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#and thank you for your kind words T_T
anathemafiction · 2 years
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anna i love youu dont you worry your pretty brilliant little head the hype hasn't died at all❤️❤️I'm practicing restraint by not reading the extended demo so i can read all of it when the full game gets released haha but its difficult🤧idk if you've been asked this before but what are your favorite books? like real books.
It's very hard for me to pick a list of favorite books, I love so many of them! My interests and obsessions tend to shift over time, but looking back, some titles have always stayed with me. For different reasons and with different depths but these books, no matter how fresh they are in my mind, left an impression so I suppose these are my top 5.
I'll put them under a read me more because, by God, it got extremely long! 😄
In no particular order:
1984 
I love dystopian books, and out of the ones I've read, this is the one that I always come back to. It's not a feel good book - it's the very opposite. There are scenes in it that made me physically uncomfortable, scenes where I wanted to stop reading, and characters that deeply disturbed me. 
But that's exactly the point. It's a dark, harrowing tale where the main character isn't a hero, and it's a tale that perfectly encaptures what George Orwell lived through and witnessed. You can feel the claustrophobia, the control that Big Brother has on every single thought of his subjects, and the narrative is so well written that I felt afraid whenever Winston did something that he wasn't supposed to. I felt as paranoid as he did. 
Just a masterpiece of dystopia, and I can see why it's considered a classic. It's not a horror in the traditional sense, but what could be more terrifying than the totalitarian empire of Oceania?
One Hundred Years of Solitude
I'll admit: I've tried reading other works of Gabriel Márquez, but I didn't enjoy them very much. This one though... this one, I have a hard time putting into words why it marked me as it did. But damned, it really did. 
The story follows not a character but a family. We accompany the Buendía family from the first generation when they settle in Macondo, to the very last descendent. And we feel the years and time move forward while eerily, oddly, staying exactly the same. Time is not a line but a circle that is bound to repeat itself - fate acts on the grandpa in the same way it does on the grandson. And each person, each generation has its struggles and victories, but they're always connected to the ones who came before. It's so hard to put into words the fatalism of this tale and how it makes you feel - and think of your own history, your own family, your own culture. 
It's been a while since I last read it, and many details of the story are blurry in my mind, but I will never forget the ending. I remember I couldn't see the words, for tears were spilling out of my eyes and I could barely breathe because everything leading to that last page is a masterclass on how to write. I don't know how Márquez did it, but he wrote one of the best, maybe the best, endings I've ever read. 
The book is also a window into life in Latin America, for the town might be fictional but it's obviously influenced by Latin countries. The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (another book that I love, but doesn't make the top 5 by a tiny margin) or, to be fair, any book by Allende, is the only other piece of media I can think of that gives such a raw and clear account of Latin America.
Memorial do Convento
José Saramago is my favorite author, I think I've read all his books, and let me tell you, it was very hard not to fill this list with his works. But if I must choose only one, then it's a no-brainer: it's this one.
The story follows the making of the Mafra monastery, a construction only made possible by the gold and diamonds the Portuguese crowd imported from our colonies in Brazil. It has both a macro scope - the monastery's construction - and a micro one; the love story of Baltazar and Blimunda, the novel's "protagonists".
Like pretty much all of Saramago's books, it deconstructs and critiques the rich's exploitation of the poor, the sacrifices and importance of free speech and freedom of thinking, and, especially, the corruption of the Church. All written in his unique style that always has me reading with a smirk on my face and endlessly in awe of the masterfulness Saramago has of the Portuguese language - there's no one like him. The man makes the Portuguese dictionary his personal toy. 
There's a chapter I particularly love. It's called The Epic of the Stone, on which a group of 600 men and 400 oxen carry an enormous stone from the quarry to Mafra - a journey that took 8 days and cost the lives of several men. This was done because the king wanted a beautiful balcony, and they didn't want to cut the stone into several, smaller parts - it had to be one big, magnificent piece. 
There's not a better metaphor for how the rich are built on the back of workers. For how, despite History saying that it was King João V who build the monastery, it was actually the hundreds of unnamed men who did it. 
I could go on and on about this book. It's beautiful and tragic and perfectly satirizes the darker side of not only my nation's history and government, but Europe at large.
The Lord of the Rings trilogy
I know, it's cheating, but I really can't separate the books! It's LOTR, on its whole, and I'd go as far as to throw in the Hobbit too because I adore it almost as much. 
To be honest... what can I say about them? I love, love, love fantasy - I've spent so many hours in my childhood devouring fantasy books - and of all the ones that I love, none can quite reach Middle Earth. It's magical. I have a hard time explaining it, Tolkien's work feels like home to me. 
I love the theme of perseverance, of believing even when you're in the darkest of nightmares. Of having hope that the sun will always rise, and if it doesn't, then you'll face death not without fear but refusing to lose yourself to desperation. 
An army of merciless, grotesque orcs is coming, and there's so little hope, but you still pick up the sword. It's a lesson that I try to take with me - maybe not apply it in such a dramatic way, of course, but in my own daily struggles and my fears. A little hobbit made it to Mordor, despite all the odds, despite all the pain - and he saved the world. 
Maybe there's some hope for me too?
The Graveyard Book
I... adore this book. If One Hundred Years of Solitude has the best ending I've read, then this book has the absolute best beginning. 
"There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife."
I'm getting chills from it. The book is a treasure, both in the way it's written and the story itself. It's whimsical and light, even as it touches subjects as heavy as mortality and what it means to be alive. The main character and all of the characters, even the villains, are so well written. I am a massive fan of Neil Gaiman, and I think this is one of his best works. 
This book is deceitfully simple, but it's one that I think about from time to time. Maybe because it's about themes that have always fascinated me - and I've always feared too. Life and death, seizing the moment, and, most importantly, the importance of moving on. I don't know, it's a story that I carry with me. 
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queenofbaws · 13 days
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There's been a drought of non-poly Chrashley-focused content for quite a while now (apart from the occasional story on Ao3), and I'm starved for ANYTHING featuring the nerds and their schmaltzy escapades. I've considered remedying this situation by making my own food (read: trying to write my own fanfiction), but I fear I wouldn't do the characters justice. You've proven to be a talented author from what I've read of your works, so would you be willing to write a soft, sweet snippet in my stead?
catch me catching up on some not-quite-six sentence sat(or)sunday!
"So...is it that you think glaring it down is somehow going to magically make it safer, or...?" He couldn't mark it down as a full victory, not with the way her mouth was twisted up like that, but there was juuust enough laughter in her eyes for Chris to pat himself on the back. Not that he ever needed much of an excuse to do that.
After another moment of heavy, heavy consideration, Ashley sighed, then groaned, then forced herself to take a single lurching step over the threshold and into the cable car. She mumbled something as she shrugged her bag off and plunked it down on the same bench where he'd ditched his, and while he couldn't make most of it out, he for sure caught "death trap" and "tin can" thrown around in there.
"That'd be a 'yes' on the glaring question, then?" he teased, pretending not to follow her with his eyes as she sat beside him. She folded her arms and sighed again, and he nudged her shoulder with his own. "Think about it this way," he tried instead, "maybe it's Peter Pan rules - if you believe we're going to drop about a million feet and plunge to our icy deaths, then we will, and if you don't, we won't!"
"Chris! Oh my God." Ashley dropped her head into her hands, laughing tensely. Very, very tensely. "Do you seriously think that's helping?"
"Nah. I just didn't want to go full bad movie cliche and say, y'know...c'mon, Ash, what's the worst that could happen?"
The cable car's door clicked shut, the mechanism began to hum, and Ashley's laughter took on a desperate note. "Oooh but you said it anywayyy!"
She scooted another few inches away from the window, and just like that they were flush against each other, her arm pressing into his...from between, like, twelve layers of jacket, anyway. They hadn't even chugged a single inch up the mountain yet and whoop, yeah, uh huh, now Chris was all aboard the Anxiety Express too, his ticket paid for, processed, and punched in not by heights or the decidedly out-of-date maintenance sticker on the back window but Ashley herself. As was so often the case.
What was his move here? Did he have a move here? And, maybe more importantly, since when did he think about his life in terms of moves?
Okay, that last one was actually easy enough to answer: Since he'd hung up with Josh all of three minutes ago. It had been a thirty second call, if that, just enough to let him know they were heading up and he should expect them at the summit's station in the next ten minutes or so...but in true Josh fashion, he'd managed to pack that thirty seconds with as much psychic damage as humanly possible.
"Hope you two have a nice ride up," he'd said cheerfully enough, which had tripped at least five different warning alarms in Chris's brain. "See the sights, revel in the atmosphere, engage in a much-needed heart-to-heart...you know, just...really enjoy each other's company."
Good ol' Josh. Always knowing the exact thing to say to leave a guy completely unarmed.
Armed! Was that the answer? He could, in theory, sort of stretch his arm around her shoulders. People did that, didn't they? If someone they were with was freaked out? It...it didn't have to be seen as a romantic gesture, not if all he was doing was comforting her, but...but would she see it like that?
The cable car crept a foot off the ground, two, three, four, five...and right as they crested the roof of the station, it...well, it stopped. Completely.
"What's going on?" All it took was the cable car rocking once as it came to a halt and Ashley was on him, her face buried in the fur lining of his parka and her arms wrapped so tightly around his middle he could feel her fingers knotting at his side, Princess and the Pea style. "I can't look! How high up are we? I - wait, no, I don't want to know! Don't tell me!"
"I...we're like seven feet up, Ash. Like, maybe eight. Nine?"
"Make up your miiiiiiiind!" she groaned into his coat, her shoulders shaking as he did, in fact, scrounge up courage enough to wrap his arm around them. "I knew this was a bad idea...God, I hate these stupid things!"
"They've never stalled like this before. It's probably just, uh, a glitch or something. The system needs to warm up a little bit." He tried to sound confident as he said it, even as he glanced out the window and started running the numbers in his head. Could they jump out if they needed to? Maybe. It'd probably hurt, though, and he was prone to getting hurt on leisurely walks around the block, to say nothing of sick, snowy stunts. Plus, it'd taken a hell of a lot of convincing to get Ashley into the cable car in the first place; convincing her out of it...
"Yeah," she agreed, poking her head out from his coat only long enough to shoot a worried glance out the window on her side, "they've never stalled like this before, that's the problem, Chris! Maybe this is it! This is the time they break down for good! We're going to be stuck up here and - "
Before she could get another word out, the lights in the car flickered. And dimmed.
They turned to each other, eyes wide as panic began to really set in, and...and then...wait.
Now wait one fucking second.
The car suddenly filled with music. Music of the low and slow variety, that was, music the likes of which you only ever heard during the swelling denouement of a cheesy Hallmark romance movie, and Jesus Christ, he was going to kill Josh when they got to the summit. If they got to the summit.
Chris's head fell back against the glass panel behind him with a dull thunk. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they went. "Well," he said, feeling his adrenaline begin to flag, "looks like someone installed speakers in this bad boy since our last visit."
"Oh my God. Oh my...God." Beside him, Ashley slumped. Up until that moment, she'd been a spring wound tight against his side; now she felt more like a ragdoll folded up under his arm, her heartbeat still frantic enough that he could feel it through their layers upon layers of winterwear.
A moment later the cable car chugged back to life, rising up, up, up into the sky and towards the lodge, its lights low and its jams smooth. Chris waited for the moment Ashley straightened again, prepared himself for their inevitable separation...and even as the lights of the summit slowly came into view, it did not come.
"You just had to say it, didn't you?" Ashley asked after awhile, her arms still tight around him, her head still nestled in his parka's lining. "Just had to go and jinx us, huh?"
It took him a second, but when it clicked, it was all he could do not to laugh outright. Instead, he pressed his luck a liiittle more, tightening the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer before setting his chin atop her head. "Ash, uh, if this right here is the worst that could happen, I gotta be honest, I would love to know what your idea of the best-case scenario would've been."
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wortverlust · 2 years
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Jo! I'm so glad to be mutuals with you oh my goooosh I love your art so much I'm gonna cry 😭 seriously! you're the only blog who I have notifications turned on for because I get so excited about the art you post for~
also you're so sweet I appreciate you 🥺
oh.my.gowd Rae!!! …aaah…don't cry!!! efhawöoefoawhfoh....a-and....t-the...n-notifications?! Y-you....t-turned...t-them...o-on… aaaaaahhhh… I AM TOUCHED!!! SO GRATEFUL!!!! SO GLAD YOU ENJOY MY DRAWINGS/POSTS!!!
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starrysamu · 8 months
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hey remy !! it’s been a while since i’ve been on tumblr but i remembered how much i loved your writing so i wanted to check on your blog i don’t know if you remember but maybe 2 or 3 years ago you got a couple of anon messages of someone just complimenting you it’s been a while so you probs don’t remember but that was me <3 i see you’re not super active anymore but i hope you’re doing well i had a really good time reading your stories because both the writing and the story were absolutely wonderful. you really do have a way with words i hope your still writing or if not i hope you doing something that you enjoy and that you’re living your best life 💕💕 your blog was a place for me to rest in a way i got so immersed in your writing that’s kinda gave me a break for the couple of minutes that i would read your stuff. i wrote to much lol sorry but i hope my message was well received 🫶🏼
have a nice day and week and year and rest of your life ❤️
this is so so so sweet - as i'm going through my box and mentioned earlier i'm so sorry this is like four months late, but thank you so very much for taking the time out of your day to send me this. sometimes i rlly reminisce the 2020 days and how into writing i was and how much fun i was having, and i'm so happy to hear that this was a place for you to relax for even a little bit of time. i hope you're still finding some outlets to relax even today. thank you so so much for your well wishes
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’
☀︎|toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.
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toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.
he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.
“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.
toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.
you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.
a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.
“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.
you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”
silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.
that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.
despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.
“heh.” you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.
you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.
“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.
toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.
“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.
he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.
toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.
“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.
you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.
plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.
“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”
the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.
you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.
“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.
“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.
you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.
“i love you too, toji.”
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chubsonthemoon · 1 year
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Last Binderary book is DONE!!!! This is the incredible Maybe sprout wings, by @moorishflower.
This post is going to be a doozy, so gonna just skip straight to the cut!
INTERIOR
INTRODUCTION
I really wanted to model this bind after my own copy of the Odyssey, (which is all highlighted and bookmarked and annotated to hell from my Great Text courses in undergrad ehe, so this bind was such a fun trip down memory lane!). But beyond just the cover/general aesthetic, I also wanted to give the book a similar feel to these kinds of editions of classics--there's usually an introduction, translation notes, and other supplementary materials, right? Like, a physical manifestation of the work of many, many people, all having conversations with one another across time and space.
So that's what I did! I wrote a short introduction (I will also probably post it to my AO3/my blog as well, in the name of preservation etc. etc.) and began reaching out to folks in the fandom who I knew had created art and meta for the fic. The result? 18k words of analysis, comments, and meta, and nearly twenty pages of art!
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And this is what I love most about this bind, I think! This book is the work of several people--truly a collaborative work by the fandom--all of whom I will now be shamelessly calling out below :D
CHAPTER HEADER ART
First and foremost, this book would not be what it is without the gorgeous header art by @fancy-rock-dove! Thank you so much Dove for letting include your work, and for being so supportive and kind these past few weeks about this bind <3 You in particular have contributed so much to this book (which I will be getting more into in the next section ehe), and I'm so psyched I get to hold your art and words, too!
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NOTES ON THE TEXT
This section was divided into four parts: Asks and Answers, Meta, Selected Comments, and Chapter Heading Art: Process
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For Asks and Answers, I trawled Heather's blog for meta she had written in response to questions and other meta about the fic. Asks came from @fancy-rock-dove, @quillingwords, @kulapti, and myself! (I THINK I got all of them--tumblr's search function is finnicky even on its best days, so so sorry if I missed something T_T) I first got hooked into reading this fic because of one of these asks, so I'm very fond of this section in particular :D
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For Meta, I included two wonderful essays written by @pastrypuppy (also known as @kulapti) about Hob as an author figure and the Disrupted Fisher King narrative in MSW. Her analyses were so fascinating and I just had to include them in the book! (And thank you as well for your permission, friend!) (also hello fellow Renegade comrade 🫡)
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For Selected Comments, I owe everything to (once again :3) @fancy-rock-dove, whose insights are the epitome of transformative fandom at work. I'd look for their comments after I read every chapter to see what their takes were on this or that element of the story, and every single time I would go "!!!!! I didn't even realize!!!" or "OOOOOOOH I hadn't thought of that!!" It was like being in a lecture hall and always whipping your head around when one of your classmates raised their hand, because you knew they were going to say something fascinating that you hadn't considered before.
Aside from one of my own comments, Dove's comments make up the entirety of this section (for which I owe you my life--your long-form responses to fics are a gift to this world) but GOSH was it also so much fun going through the comments section while typesetting and seeing all the keyboard smashing, yelling, and crying from the other commenters. Communal nature of storytelling and ongoing meaning-making of fanfiction, babey!
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And finally for Chapter Heading Art: Process: once again Dove coming in clutch with some wonderful insights into the design of each of the chapter heading art pieces! This kind of stuff is honestly my favorite: meta about art for a fic which is, in turn, a transformation of an existing story (not even to mention that The Sandman is its own kind of fanfiction of existing mythologies and histories)--I just!! Think it's all really, really neat :'D (for more coherent/polished thoughts on this pls see my introduction asjdfkls)
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ART
The art gallery!!! A million thanks to @fishfingersandscarves, @honeyseller, @jazzpsych, @doctor-rainbowfoxey, and (HI AGAIN DOVE) @fancy-rock-dove for granting me permission to include all of your beautiful pieces!
As usual for artworks in my binds, I printed each piece out on specialty photo paper to really make the colors pop, then sewed each page separately to the text block! Behold, everyone's beautiful beautiful pieces!
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The art gallery also satisfies the certain "oooh shiny" part of my brain that always activates when I see pictures in a book, so am also very fond of this section :3
CONSTRUCTION
And now on to the nitty gritty stuff! I used the German Bradel binding technique again, my second time using it. Even though it's more complicated than the case bind, I really love how it gives you the full board space for the cover designs (~it's free real estate~). Keep it a secret but I kiiiiiiind of made a small goof in the last few steps (I did the turn-ins a step too early and so had to paste an extra sheet of cardstock to secure the spine to the boards, whoopsie), but it's a pretty small difference, aesthetically speaking, so it wasn't the end of the world XD
Edges are once again fake gilded, but this time I tried something new with the colors! I did two layers of acrylic paint--one watered down shade of red for the base, then one metallic gold on top of that. I really like the red/gold effect! I'll have to keep experimenting with this kind of layering:
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ALSO. Y'ALL! I think I'm finally getting the hang of endbands!!! Many thanks to the folks at Renegade who hosted all the endband workshops last month--I'm still working through them, but even the few sessions I've seen have been TREMENDOUSLY helpful. I learned that tension is Very Important, as well as thread thickness, so I tried doubling my thread and keeping a Very Close Eye on how I was holding the threads while doing the beads. And behold! I still have a ways to go (and one day I would LOVE to do the fancier designs), but I'm v happy with the progress I've made so far!
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And finally the covers!! ARCHIVAL MOD PODGE MY BELOVED. I printed on the same matte presentation paper that I used for the art, then did several coats of archival matte mod podge + a pass of gloss mod podge over the title strip to make it ~shiny~. Then once those had dried and I'd adhered them to the boards, I sprayed two layers of matte clear acrylic sealer (also mod podge!) to finish it off. I had some issues with the paper tearing when I handled it before it was fully dry, but luckily the blemishes were small enough that it was easy to do spot corrections with my black acrylic paint. And now I know to be more patient next time LOL
(some non-photoshoot shots that show the shine a little better!)
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FINAL THOUGHTS
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I had a lot of thoughts while I was binding this book--about Sandman fandom, about Dreamling fandom, about the Odyssey, about storytelling, about fanbinding, about Binderary, about Renegade, about my friends--but really what came to mind the most was gratitude!
Simply put, I'm so grateful to everyone I've met both in this fandom and throughout the years I've been active online--this is SO fun, y'all. It's so much fun to love stories together--to talk about them, to write them, and of course to bind them! I hope I've adequately conveyed that gratitude.
But of course, this book would not exist without the wonderful words of @moorishflower. Heather, thank you so, SO much for sharing your stories, thoughts, and time with us--it is always a happier, better day when I get an email notif from you and when I see you on my dash. I love your work so much, and I'm so happy I finally get to put it on my shelf! So thank you so much again, for everything <3
and OKAY THAT'S IT FROM ME FOLKS!!!!! Binderary 2023 is officially a wrap! I had SUCH a blast--will probably write up a reflection post on it uhhhh after I take a very long nap ajslkdfjslk _(:3」∠)_
all my love! <3
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Note
hello, can i request
the reader is getting frustrated because she is having trouble coming, so she tries to fake it. Morpheus figures out what she's trying to do because he knows how her pussy feels when she's tight around him, so he gets mad and stops, leaving her wanting for the next few days....then when he finally gives in , is she sharpened all night as punishment? I hope this makes some kind of sense.
Good Thing
Dream of the Endless x Reader
Summary: Lord Morpheus does not appreciate you faking it and your sweet dream turns into a nightmare.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: fem!reader, petty!dream, MDNI, smut (pwp, free use, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, light sadism, vaginal penetration, edging, temperature play, cunninglingus), typos, etc.
A/N: this has been in my drafts for ages T_T me so sorry. but ya know nonnie, what was so wild, when you sent this i was reading an aemond targaryen fic with he exact same prompt i was sent into orbit Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
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I squirm as I am hoisted on his lap. I feel Dream's hot breath on my neck. My flesh was spilling between his fingers as he kneaded them. My hands were shaking as they latched around his neck.
He felt good. He felt so good-- he really did. But I was exhausted.
Dream brushes his nose against me, palms by the curve of my hips as he maneuvered me in sync with his movements. He snapped into me with a need that could not be quelled. His thighs and abdomen were hot and sticky with my slick. My whole body was burning with sweat and remnants of the multiple orgasms he's left me, he's left in me. He mutters against my ear, his deep voice making my shaky one even more unstable, "one more, my love."
One more.
But see, he's been saying this for hours.
And when I say hours, I mean there's no sense of time in the Dreaming, and he's taken fuck me to oblivion way to fuckin' seriously. And yet -
"I assure you," he crooned as he clutched the back of my head when it got too heavy for me to keep up, "my sister will not touch you. I will not let her take what's mine. She will not come near you," he sucks on my skin, "not when I have you in such a servile state."
Fuck me.
And he did.
And he was.
Still is.
My head rested on his shoulder. My body jolted with each of his thrusts. I felt my eyes water all over again, and now even my mouth was crying. I dribble on his skin as I whine, "D-Dream."
"Shhh," he kisses my head, "let me relax," he holds me firm in my place, "we have an arrangement, don't we? You want me to do this, don't you?"
I whimper when his thumb rubs on my oversensitive nub, "p-please-"
"I know," he tuts, "I know," he purrs, claiming my mouth with his, "just one more. Can you not give your beloved king one more sweet orgasm? Don't you want me to relax, darling? You said you'd let me do anything I want-"
"Dream-"
He sits up straighter, "and I want to feel you take pleasure in my love making."
A tired cry leaves my mouth.
"I need you to feel how much I love you, my jewel," he licks my neck and nips on my skin, "one more time."
"B-but you've been s-saying that-- for hours," I feel tears streak my cheeks.
He nods and licks my tears, "I swear to you, my love," his fingers dig into my flesh, "one last rupture is all I will ask of you now."
"Promise?" I blurt desperately.
Dream peppers kisses on my neck, "you have my word."
And fair enough, fair enough, he did promise me relief after. The words of an Endless were not fickle and I should have trusted in him. I mean I did! I do! But my mortal body could only take so much and so, I did what I had to do.
I faked it.
I faked it and immediately he stopped.
Thank. Goodness.
At least... it was a thank goodness in that moment.
I caught my breath as I melted like putty on him, allowing my body to bathe in its exhaustion though I did not feel pleasure from the squirming show I just put on.
Dream's hold on me relaxes. His hands come to my thighs as he adjusted me on him.
"T-thank you," I mutter.
"What was that?"
I heave as I look at him, "I said t-"
"You did not finish," he cuts, one hand coming to my back to keep me in place as he pulled back to scowl at me.
My silence proved me guilty. My stutter decided my sentence.
Dream's nostril flare and his jaw hardens, "hmmm." He reaches out for my face and pushes back my sweat soaked hair, "did you think I would not realize?"
I squeak when he pulls me off him and sets me down on his side. I fidget as I feel the cushion of the bed on my swollen, dampened thighs. I reposition myself uncomfortably as he leans on his knees and sighs.
"Dream-"
"I will not forget this."
"... w-what?"
Dream turns to me, eyes darker than normal, face tense and clearly irritated, "you will learn not to resort to trickery with me, insolent girl."
Well, fuck. "My love-"
I don't get to speak as he stands and eyes me in disdain, "if you do not want me to touch you-"
"I didn't say I don't want you to touch-"
"-then I shall have my leave and keep my hands to myself."
I sigh in frustration as I watch him walk away from me. I crumble on the bed and slam my head on the sheets. I look up and see he's already by the door, his clothing already manifested on him, "Dream. Dream, please-"
Dream reaches for the knob and slams the door shut on his way out.
For the next week, the whole Dreaming would be walking on eggshells around their king and it was all my doing.
A harsh winter fell on the Dreaming. Everyone was fighting for their life in the cold and I could no longer let them suffer because of my unintended offence and his exaggerated pettiness.
I manage to get Mervyn make Dream go to the throne room.
The throne room echoes, "so, you've resorted to trickery once more, brat."
I turn over my shoulder and jolt when I see Dream already looming over me. I clutch my chest as I look up at him, "don't be ridiculous. Am I not guest who can ask for the attention of the king?"
"No," he rebuts.
The windows of the throne room begin to get battered by hail. I flinch when a large, icy stone breaks through the glass. I turn to the thing on the floor, back to the being that was the reason why there was an eternal frost, "Dream, please-"
"So, I do not please you?" his voice reverberates through my rib cage as his form is obscured and grows larger.
My heart races as I reach out and try to touch him. My hands go through his form and I whimper, "my love."
He growls.
I gasp when his icy hand takes my cheek.
"You have offended me beyond reparation."
I flinch at his touch. Cold begins to creep up on me. I bite back the quip lingering on my tongue. How dramatic of him.
I try to reach out to him again and this time, he lets me touch him. I feel something like shoulders and I pull on him, "puppy, please-"
"Do not insult me," he barks, face coming into view as he looks down on me, "I've had enough of you."
A shiver runs down my spine.
His hand dig into the roots of my hair. He pulls my locks back and tilts my head up, "so..." he inhales deeply, "how shall I get retribution? What will you to to appease me?"
My pulse quickens. I bite my lip, "anything."
He scoffs, "and have you trick me again?"
"I -" I shudder when he circles around me, "I promise I won't complain. I'll be a good girl."
"I do not believe you," he leans into my neck from behind, "insect."
Goosebumps form on my skin, "Dream-"
He places a hand on my mouth, "silence."
I squeal into his hand and do my best not to squirm at the ice cold of his palm now scouring my body. He breathes against my skin and I flinch at the cold.
"Oh," he mocks, hand coming off my mouth, "are you cold, my love?"
I suck in a sharp breath, "y-yes."
He hums and kisses my jaw. His lips are ice cold, "my poor girl."
I flinch when his hands trace upward underneath my shirt, "perhaps removing your clothes will help you," he pulls my top off, "don't you agree?"
I shiver and pant at the notion.
"Well?" he coaxes.
I find myself nodding, "y-yes."
Dream kisses my cheek repeatedly, "very good."
He turns me around and begins to strip me naked. I begin to shiver more violently when I'm left bare. I feel my nose begin to clog.
Fuck, I'm going to die.
"D-D-Dream," I shudder, "I'm fre-eezing."
He pulls me into his chest. He is an icicle. He caresses my cheeks, "shhh," he leans in and kisses me, "you're mine. Nothing else will touch you but me," he lifts me up, "isn't that right?"
"R-r-r-r-ight," I wrap my legs around him.
I let out a hiss when I am upon a cold surface. I realize then that I was sat on his throne.
I continue to shiver as he pulls away and looks down on me. He tilts his head as snow begins to powder the room, "you will not touch me," he bends down, "am I understood?"
I nod quickly as I watch him drop to his knees.
He sighs, steam wafting up from his lips, "good girl."
I hiss, nails digging into the armrest, when his suddenly hot fingers touch my shaking knees and part them, "sweet Mary- fuck-"
He snorts, steam coming out of his nostrils, "you will not say any other name but mine."
I pant heavily as he takes my legs and throw them over his shoulder. I whine and so badly want to grab at him when I feel how warm he is. I lean into him and cry out when his mouth connects with my freezing skin. My belly quakes for multiple reasons when his large hand rubs my skin. My nails scrape the wood on the armrest. I scream his name out helplessly.
He sighs in satisfaction. I hear him in my head: very good.
I screw my eyes shut and rut into him, "please let me touch you."
"Never," he rather instantaneously retorts.
It continues like this. I tremble at his ministrations while snow continues to build all over the throne room, save for the area around him.
"Fuck," I shake off snow from my shoulder. I flinch when I feel his tongue working on me. I could barely feel my fingers though my lower half was warm, "p-please, my hands-"
My cries fall deaf on his ears.
It continues like this up until my voice is hoarse and my calves are shaking at the feel of him eating me up.
"F-fu- D-Dream-"
"Mmm," he finally looks up at me, face wet with slick and saliva.
Fuck, I hate him but he was so pretty. "P-please- m-my hands," I shudder."
I could see the warmth radiating off him, "what of your hands, little bug?"
"T-they're so cold-"
I whimper when he takes my hands and places them on his cheeks, "better?"
I nod, "thank y-you."
Dream smiles softly, placing a burning kiss on the inside of my thigh, "good girl."
My belly spasms when I feel his hot breath on my core again, "tell me. Will my beautiful toy trick her master again?"
I let out a overwhelmed sound when he slowly sinks his teeth into my aching core. I arch my back and dig my fingers in his hair, pulling firmly. My toes curl as I whimper, "n-no."
He hums against me. It makes me squeal.
He takes my legs and pushes me back, hanging my legs on the armrest, "you swear it to me?"
I whimper when he pulls away from my thighs and rises to his feet to kiss me. I bring him close and relish the feel of his warmth, "yes," I sink my face into his neck and rub my cheek on his skin, "yes! I swear, I swear-"
"Mmm," he places his arms around me, "I believe you."
Dream rubs his hands down my shoulders then my thighs and pulls back.
I look up at him as snowflakes fall onto his hair and lashes. He smiles at me then rubs my cheek with his warm hand, "best find your clothes in the snow, my love. It would be unfortunate if you caught a cold."
"W-What?"
With that, he retreats and wraps his coat around himself.
I shiver and watch my breath condense in the air Dream walks off, treading easily through the snow.
When I realize what was happening, I curl into myself and feel my body shake. Was it the cold? Anger? Betrayal? Who knew.
"Come quick, pretty girl. I will prepare a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder, licking his lips as he heads for the door.
I hiss when I attempt to step into the snow. I whimper and look up as I clutch my chest, "you're not seriously leaving me? Dream?! DREAM!"
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adventuringblind · 9 months
Text
Nerospicy has never been so cute
Oscar Piastri x Nerodivergent!reader
Genre: fluff... angst if you squint.
Request: nope but they are open! Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, George, Daniel and Pierre are on the list. Also open for poly fics if anyone is interested.
Summary: just cute fluff between Oscar and his autistic coded partner
Warnings: idk people who can't mind their own business IG
Notes: This is self-indulgent, and I do not care. I just wanna feel supported, okay? T_T
Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feeling hurt if you ignor this but I wanted to put it out there.
Masterlist
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You weren't sure if you'd ever fit in with people. Something about you always felt different from others.
Maybe it was that you didn't understand their antics. Their jokes weren't funny to you, or you didn't understand them. They seemed you as sensitive, but you're really just incredibly empathic.
You were interested in things that they weren't. You hated certain foods, textures, and feeling in general.
Then somtimes it all became too much. Alone in a dark room with headphones in. Attempting to soothe yourself from the overwhelming feelings running through your mind and body.
Your friends wanted to go out of a Friday night. Previously, you were feeling alright and decided to go with. Instantly regretting your decision as soon as you walked into the door of the club.
It was here that you met Oscar.
He didn't really want to be here. He'd given into the pleas of his friends who didn't want to go without him. He liked people and going out to have fun, but he wasn't in the mood right now.
He noticed you sitting at the bar nursing a drink. You looked like you wouldn't bother him, and the bar was already crowded, so he sat down on the stool next to yours.
You briefly looked over at him. Finding your drink to be more entertaining than the male next to you.
You were getting more overwhelmed by the second. The discreetly hidden earbuds only help so much. The vibration of the bass and the lights combined made you want to puke. You wanted to get out of there, but your body was ever so slowly shutting down.
Oscar noticed how your body was shrinking into itself. He didn't want to stare, but it was obvious you were in distress.
"Are you alright?" Asked the Australian.
You didn't look up at him, and words became too difficult, so you settled for shaking your head no.
Oscar thought about it for a minute. "Do you want to get out of here? I'm not in the mood to party, and you don't seem like you are either." He grimaced at how awkward he felt like he sounded. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or something." He laughed but it was more at himself then anything.
Eager to leave, regardless of who the man was, you stood up and made your way towards the door. You didn't have a tab, just water in your glass to make you feel like you belonged.
Once outside the door, you breathe a sigh of relief. Less people, less vibration, and less light.
You wanted to cry, though. Your body still feeling everything.
"Do you need anything? A ride home even? I probably seem like suck a creep right now." Oscar rubs his temples.
For the first time, you fully examine the male. Shocked to see kind features and gentle eyes. He was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans.
"Thank you." You managed. Not wanting him to feel like a weirdo any longer.
He paused and looked up at you. Wanting to find your eyes but noticing your eyes did not want to find his. "I'm Oscar, by the way." He reached out his hand for you to shake.
Which you did hesitantly. "I'm Y/N."
~
You had explained to Oscar that you didn't live close to here. Over an hour away at best. You'd been exploring the town with friends earlier in the day when they decided to end the night at the club.
He offered you a stay at his apartment for the night and then he could take you home in the morning.
"Actually, can I take you on a date first?" He'd found you intriguing and beautiful, and he didn't want this to be for one night.
You were nervous, to say the least, but when he offered to take you anywhere you wanted to go, the deal seemed appealing. Furthermore, there was a music store you wanted to look at that your friends had passed by. So when he offered, you pointed him in the direction.
"Can I ask you something?" His eyes never left the rode, and you were grateful for it. It helped the conversation flow easier for you.
"Sure." You shrugged.
"Why are you wearing earbuds?"
Oh. You dreaded this. Talking about the way your body and mind work had yet to end well.
Your hesitancy did not do unnoticed, so Oscar quickly followed up with "you don't have to answer if it's uncomfortable."
"Well, it's just that- loud noise makes me overwhelmed, and things like headphones help drown it out." You fumbled.
"Oh I use those at work too sometimes cause it can get loud."
He seemed so natural saying it. His calm demeanor helping you to read him a bit better.
He then proceeded to tell you about his job and ask questions about you. He was very clear when he spoke. Eventually helping you to wind down.
This guy you just met was taking you on a date. Was it a good idea to out yourself? Probably not, but if you didn't care for people opinions much. "I'm autistic."
"I was wondering that but didn't want to ask. I had a friend in school that was, and in some ways, you seem similar to him." He hit his head on the steering wheel. "I'm not trying to stereotype. I'm sorry that probably sounded rude."
You laughed at him. His response was one of the best you'd been given. "It's alright, it's actually kind of cool that you picked up on it."
When you arrived it the music store it was ten minutes to close. The records lined the walls, and boxes of CDs were packed to the brim. Not many people use them nowadays, but it felt comfortable in the little store.
You and Oscar browsed the music and talked about the different kinds of music you like. It felt natural. Even when you knew you were info-dumping, he just listened intently and asked questions about your interest.
Soon enough, the shopkeeper asked you both to leave. You waved a thank you and slid back into Oscar's car.
"Thank you for indulging me. I really enjoyed this." You were shocked to hear that come from him. Mainly because you felt like you talked his ear off.
The drive to his apartment was quiet, but not the awkward kind.
He opened the door for you when you arrived. His apartment was comfortable. It's not super empty or overly decorated. It's just comfortable.
"Right, so you can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and take the room, and I'll take the couch." He didn't even give you a chance to protest as he sped off to gether the essentials.
You two didn't do much sleeping that night. Wasting away the time. The clock moving two fast for your liking. You two spent hours conversing and laughing with each other.
Somewhere along the line, Oscar passed out on the couch, and you had made your way to his room like he said to.
You two exchanged numbers when it was finally time for you to leave his car. He promised to stay in contact with you.
A promise he followed through on. It didn't take long til you were following him around to races.
You were mostly watched from the quiet places in the McLaren paddock. Sometimes, it even curled up in Oscar's driver room. He didn't mind, though, making it a small game you played between the two of you.
You and Lando got along nicely as well. Oscar only getting frustrated when it comes to both of you and your eating habits.
You were manageable, but Lando was just ridiculous in his eyes.
You didn't actively say your autistic but definitely explained why you are the way you are. Eventually, people came to their own conclusions. The gossip pages included.
You didn't really understand the criticism at first. People had always misjudged and misunderstood. But when they started nitpicking your every move, it became annoying.
The names didn't bother you. It was them saying Oscar deserved someone who wasn't as weird.
It followed you everywhere. These labels that the media had given you.
You were happy with Oscar. He treated you so well, and you were doing your best to support him. You two created your own small routines that you enjoyed.
You couldn't even walk through the paddock without journalists trying to question you. The physical souch of their bodies and shouting so they could be heard sending your body into overdrive. You liked the environment of racing, but this was over your limit.
You were so glad you texted Oscar you had arrived. Him responding that he was already on his way to you.
He noticed the journalists first, then you at the center of attention. Your hands in your hair and your breathing rapid. You looked like you might scream.
His legs moved faster than his mind as he put himself in between you and anyone else. Very gently, placing a hand on your shoulder to try and guide you away.
You did end up screaming. Your body needing to release all the pent-up emotions you'd been wanting to release earlier. Thankfully, it was somewhere private and muffled by Oscar's jacket.
You didn't want the so close like that. They were too much. They questions they asked were incredibly invasive. Some even going as far as to ask about intimate things.
You managed to explain to Oscar what happened. His listening intently, watching you play with his fingers in the pattern your head had come up with.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make things hard for you."
Oscar smiled and simply shook his head. "You aren't making things difficult, and on the contrary, you and your nerodivergent brain have never looked so cute."
"I just got done screaming and trying to self-soothe."
"It doesn't matter. You still look absolutely adorable." He kissed the top of your head, hoping to convey what he was feeling without words.
Am hour later, Oscar had posted to his socials about you. A letter to anyone who wants to form an opinion.
"Leave my girlfriend be. Neither of us likes having our personal lives invaded. You like to assume things but don't have all the facts. I love her very much, and that should be all that matters."
As you read it and looked at Oscar, who was giving you a goofy smile for being proud of what he'd just done. You realized just how much he loved you. Despite your labels, he saw past them and loved you for you.
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fhrlclln · 2 years
Text
hellfire club | eddie munson
SUMMARY -> mike and dustin are begging for you to play as a stand-in for DnD at their club tonight. you accept, not wanting to watch the championship. yet, who knew arriving early and meeting hellfire’s infamous club president would ensue one hella of a night for you as well, hm?
eddie munson x fem! reader
masterlist
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> smutty smut (oral sex; f! receiving, p in v, protected sex, fingering, spitting? i also kinda have a thing for his large rings hehe)
WC -> 4,249
a/n : this is my first eddie fanfic and this man hasn’t given me a rest on my daydreaming so i had to write smut for him for the first time. deadass. T_T
likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
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“oh, come on! one game, y/n. one game!” mike pleaded, hands clasped together as dustin was also begging, yet he was on his knees, hands clasped together also. your eyebrows were scrunched together looking at the two freshmens in utter disbelief, perhaps. you could almost laugh seeing these two little sheeps resort in begging for a game of DnD. you weren’t exactly a kind of a person in people’s eyes to play this ‘demonic’ game as the papers say. however, you were hooked, played a couple a few times with the boys. clearly, you didn’t give a shit of what some people might say about it. it was just harmless fun after all.
“get up, dustin. alright, i’ll play. just so you know, i’m still on the newbie side, alright?” their eyes lit up with such hope on it, masking over the fear after the five minutes of begging and pleading as they now erupted into cheers and thanks, trying to hug you but you moved away. it looked like your answer was the key to their sole problem and you wondered how serious was this club? “who’s the leader? of your club? seriously, getting you two to beg for someone to play in.” you asked, not liking the idea that this one upper batch was scaring the shit out of these poor kids just for a game.
“you are the most holy of the fucking holy, y/n. thank you so much.” dustin bowed, hands up like he was worshipping you. mike nudged him with his elbow as dustin yelped, stopping eventually. fearing you would change your mind.
“it’s eddie. eddie munson. he’s in your class.” mike answered, exaggerating his last words. “lucas bailed out because he had to play for the championship tonight.” mike explained, rolling his eyes, sighing as you didn’t ask why. “—but hey, eddie’s a chill dude. there’s nothing to worry about.” mike assured as dustin nodded along excitedly. you were skeptical, you heard of eddie. he was in your class yet barely you had batted an eye to him. you did heard of him, not in the good way, of course. some of your classmates bought weed from him and other things stronger than that, he’s a drug dealer and supposedly a ‘freak’. you couldn’t care less of what he is, as long as the boys were happy and safe being friends with him, you were content.
“i’m holding on to you on that, wheeler. if he’s an ass once i meet him tonight, i’m bailing as well. you got it?” you warned them. tone strict as they both curtly nodded in understanding. “alright, piss off. enjoy freshmen year.” you ushered, tone turning soft at the two as you gestured them to leave you alone, finally opening your locker for the next class.
“yes, mother! thank you!” dustin shouted as you gave him the finger before finally heading into the crowd. you shake your head at them, a grin forming on your lips as you gripped the binder in your hands. two years have passed, they still look like the same little middle school kids running towards you every single day. harrington and robin had invited you to watch the championship this night, yet you declined not really liking watching a bunch of sweaty jocks throw a ball in a laundry hoop. nancy was going as well, of course for the school paper, now leaving you alone. you didn’t really have any exciting nights these past few days, bored out of wits and your family annoying the brains out of you. so maybe, maybe you anticipated something else just this once, tonight.
•••
anticipation ran through your veins as sweat beaded the insides of your palms. your binder was hugged against your chest as you looked around the empty hallway to find no mike or dustin around. you were early, early the fact that you could hear ozzy osbourne’s voice blasting inside the club room, followed by heavy guitar streams and rhythm of the beats. so he’s a black sabbath fan? you dig some rock genre as well, more of a queen or kiss is your preference to jam along and blast it in harrington’s car though. you sighed at yourself, realizing you wasted 15 fucking minutes of waiting for the two sheeps as you already felt awkward standing in front of the door. where are they at?
fuck it. you think, rolling your eyes at yourself as you opened the door of the club room. going in, meant you had to be alone with eddie munson himself and socializing was not a strong factor of yours. dim lights showered before you, you were met with the props from every musical play that was orchestrated in the drama club and also the familiar stage lights. it was not bad, bit clustered but this hellfire club looked promising as you spotted the long table and several other necessities for the night messily laying on top. your eyes darted as the loud blast of music faded, the curly dried locks of brown hair appeared as you were now face front with eddie himself. he was jamming along, seeming to make guitar movements and banging his head like any rocker fan. huh. your heart beats, chest tightening noticing that he didn’t know you were here which meant you had to get his attention.
“munson?” you tested, raising your voice a bit. in which no response was uttered as he was still looking away from you. “eddie munson?” you raised your voice higher and tapped the table as he now jumped from his supposed throne or seat and looked to your direction. you stared at him as he as well stared directly back at you, the face of bewilderment slowly taking his expression. he’s kinda cute.
“y/l/n.” he almost shouted your last name, turning his speaker down as he arose from his seat to walk over towards you with a cheeky grin on his lips. “well, well, what the fuck are you doing at hellfire? championship’s at the other side.” he asked, arms crossed as the scent of his musty cologne hit your nose, the distance between the two of you a bit closer than intended. you looked up at him as he towered before you with now a smirk on his damn face. a little bit of a annoying prick. you thought as you broke eye contact with him, feeling a bit flustered. was he always this handsome up close?
“mike and dustin invited me. said you needed a stand-in since sinclair is at the game.” you responded, shrugging. hands fidgeting as your fingers clenched and unclenched.
“so it has. i never expected it’d be you.” he murmured, his hand raising to his chin as his fingers tapped his lips seeing his eyes roam up and down at your figure. he was observing you or probably checking you out, yet your eyes turned to see his rings gleaming under the spotlights. big hands. you noted, blushing at evident attractiveness you now realized you had for munson. and you couldn’t quiet understand how you haven’t even noticed him at all while in school. well maybe for the fact he often likes to ditch some classes so maybe that’s the reason.
“any problem?” you asked, unsure whether he had approved of you.
he hummed, smiling now as he shake his head. “nah. nah. you’re cool. henderson and wheeler picked well.” he gestured to you. one movement of his arms had your observant eyes dart to his collarbone seeing the collar of his shirt reveal a tattoo. you gulped, thighs unknowingly clenching together, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the thought of if he had more hiding under that hellfire t-shirt. shit.
“i-i’m still a bit uneasy playing with other people so maybe not too well.” you muttered, embarrassed.
“ain’t that a shame? well we can get to know each other while we’re at it, hm?” eddie suggested, a smile formed on your lips as you know damn well what you’ve just gotten yourself into. “of course, if you want to, m’lady.” he bowed with much dignity.
“i’d like that.” your voice dropped to an octave. if nancy, robin or even fucking steve and the boys were here they’d be yelling their ass off, of how your voice sounded right now. you were smitten, too smitten and you had to thank those two dweebs for pushing you to agree for this night. your binder was placed on the table, long forgotten, you couldn’t exactly count the minutes that had passed as you just talked with the guy. he spewed some jokes and some heavily introductions about himself. he was sitting on his throne as you stood before him with a smile on your face, you hadn’t expected eddie munson to be actually a chill dude as mike had said. too chill that you actually hadn’t realize your annoyance had fled.
“you were the buzz cut kid?” you laughed, asking in disbelief how he told you he didn’t looked like his style now before and that mentioned he had a killer buzz cut.
“fuck off, i rocked that buzz cut.” eddie chuckled. “and not to mention i didn’t have these sweet killer tattoos back then. so yeah, you might have not recognize me one bit until today.” he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing more as what you expected. your eyes roamed downwards, admiring the second tattoo shown before you as your eyes darted to his forearm to see one big tat. a sudden shift of movement made you look back up to his face. brown honey orbs staring back at you with same heat as your gaze was. and it clicked, your throat felt dry at the realization of the moment. you gulped, feeling the same wave of heat covered your very body. he leaned forward, still focused on your face as a smirk grazed his lips. you couldn’t exactly tell how tight it felt you were in your clothes the moment he had laid his eyes on you so intensely, erotically almost. you bit your lip, anticipation again running through your mind. the evident heat between your legs becoming so uncomfortable you could whine about how he was so slow making the first move of fucking you here and now. come on, munson.
“you like this one?” he whispered, snapping you out of your drunken trance, eyes darting to his forearm as he showed it in all it’s fucking glory. your mouth constricted, flustered seeing as his veins bulged out how he clenched his fists to show you it, looking so smug and cocky right now. you held in a breath as your eyes surveyed it, admiring how it fitted his whole style and all.
“i do.” you whispered, smiling as you bended down to his level, feeling bold enough to actually touch his tattooed skin. you felt him shiver underneath the tips of your cold fingers, tracing every line and detail up to his biceps and seeing more, making you so curious. it was your turn to smirk, satisfied. “it’s pretty cool.” you muttered, blushing before finally looking back at him to see his reaction. face so close, you hadn’t realize how much friendly space you taken up between the two of you.
“so you like tattooed dudes, huh?” he boldly asked, instead of blushing he was smirking more than ever. your cheeks heated, staring back at his brown orbs before panicking in the inside to form some response.
you stuttered. “well i— … you don’t have to know that.” you pouted, now pulling yourself back to stand. he caught your wrist, pulling you back to his level. your breath hitched, feeling the boldness radiate from him.
“you gotta answer, baby. no need to be shy.” butterflies ensued, the cold touch of his rings almost pushing you to the breaking point of kissing him. you held his gaze, trying somewhat not to show how he had this effect on you. in which, really, you swore it was very evident since the moment you smiled at him. for a moment of bliss, he had let go of your wrist, chuckling. “all jokes. so, are we cool? i gotta welcome you in the club first of all.”
you exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes at him as you stood up. “yes.” you answered as he now stood up as well, his ringed hand before you as he smiled.
“perfect.” he muttered, his eyes seeming to hold a glint in them still staring into yours. you tilt your head up a bit, cheeks feeling so hot as he took a step closer. you were so sure you thought he had understood the points of your mindless flirting, anticipation was coursing through your veins as you accepted his hand in a firm grip. now looking at him with battering eyelashes and doe lustful eyes as he understood now. “welcome to hellfire, baby.”
in one swift moment, he leaned in and crashed his lips to yours. rough and demanding as you encircled your arms around his neck to pull him down for more. you were so greedy as you tried to map out every shape of his mouth onto yours. his hands went to your hips as he squeezed them experimentally. you moaned, the heat in your legs pressed against his, chest pressed together as your breasts rubbed against his broad chest. you panted, desperately needing some form of friction from him. he groaned between your lips as he guided the two of you to his rightful throne. your thighs were placed either side of hips, clothed cunt above his crotch, hands now roaming his clothed chest.
“eager, eager y/n.” eddie chuckled, biting the bottom of your lip as you gasped feeling his two large hands cup your ass, roughly yanking them down to grind yourself on his lap. “you think i haven’t seen the way your fucking thighs were rubbing every moment we were talking, hm? getting all so worked-up for me, baby?” he whispered, peppering sloppy kisses against your jaw as you mewled at the sensation, your head tilting back as he gladly latched his teeth on your exposed neck. he nipped, sucked, you let him leave marks, not caring at the moment as you felt his hard prick grow harder at every second he was teasing you.
“eddie.” your hands gripped his shaggy hair as he let out a surprising moan. “please.” you begged, wanting more than to take of your clothes off, to feel his skin on yours and his cock inside of you. you could not wait any second as he shifted under you, breath hot against your cheek as he pecked it before slapping your ass, making you arch your back a bit.
“on the floor, y/n. come on, i’d eat the shit out of you first, beautiful.” he mutters, tapping your thighs. you held no protest as the desperation between your legs were begging for him to touch them now. your ass thumped as you laid on the floor, sprawled with eagerness in your eyes as you shrugged off the bottom of your clothes. he kneeled down, admiring the way how you looked right now. he yanked the article of clothing and tossed it of somewhere before setting his eyes to his wrapped prize between your legs.
“look at you. such desperation isn’t good.” he teased and chuckled, fingers gripping harshly the flesh of your inner thighs. you bit your lip seeing as he laid promising kisses slowly, easing his way up as he fan his breath against your dripping core. his eyes were wide-blown, pupils dilated, pussy drunken at the sight of a wet spot on the center of your cotton panties. he licked his lips, looking up for a moment as he saw you as the same as his. waiting, eyes hazy, waiting for him to devour the shit out of you. he grinned, his hand wrapped firmly above your hips, trapping you as he practically ripped off the obstacle of clothing. you yelped, feeling the fabric pull against your skin, his hot breaths now directly fanning against your pussy as eddie stared at it for a moment. his heart thumped and his cock screamed, you watch as he spat on his ringed fingers and proceeded to roughly shove in two digits into your awaiting cunt. you almost screamed yet held yourself back, gripping the brown locks as your thighs clenched his face.
“munson! oh my god.” you slurred, back arching like a cat. with much so eagerness, he pressed a loving kiss near your core before indulging himself as he licked a trip at your entrance, making you mewl. euphoria flowed through every vein inside your body, hands still gripping tightly the brown locks of his hair. your eyes closed feeling every lap of his wet tongue lavish your needy pussy, dripping hot, wet and obscene as you grind yourself on his face. he gave every lick as he circled your clit with a moan, loving the way how you tasted, tart on his tongue and so very much giddy how you were enjoying it from up there.
“so fucking good. taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” he praised, curling his fingers making you whine. the familiar knot in your stomach slowly started to form as he continued to finger fuck you while lapping like a starved man making you clench so hard, ready to come. with every lick, every pump of his fingers, his cold rings touching your entrance, you felt it slowly building as you arched your back more making your ass lift up a bit in the air. eddie growled, his large arm above your hips as he slammed you back down roughly before detaching his whole mouth out with a wet pop, and fingers pulled out from your needy pussy.
“eddie! no, no, please—“ your eyes watered, your high was coming and he denied it with amusement in his face. you watch, with whining noises escaping your mouth as you opened your legs to show him your deprived pussy. “please…”
“you’re not coming until you come on my cock, you got it?” he licked his fingers clean, evident of your arousal coating the tips of his fingers to his large rings. you nodded, your pupil blown eyes staring at him, how holy he looked as he fumbled with his jeans and grabbed something from his pocket. “knew i’d use it.” he smiles to himself, fishing out the condom, flashing it towards you with a cheeky grin before he proceeded to pull down the zipper making you laugh for a moment. eddie winked at you, adoration in his eyes as he leaned down before your frame as he kissed you finally. you groaned at the sensation, your hands greedily raking his back before pulling his shirt up a bit to feel his soft skin. your fingertips glided, moaning between his lips as you felt his tip nudge your clit.
“stop it with the slowburn, i’m dying here.” you complained, grinding your core up to rub on his bare cock and taking a quick peep to see how fucking big he is. his cock was generously big in girth, huge as ever. tip was flushing bright red and you wondered how the fuck your cunt could take a champ like that for a moment.
“patience now.” he murmured, hands braced at the side of your face as he finally took you so slowly. he entered, with experimental strokes as he growled at the sensation of your warm walls welcoming him. “sweet baby jesus. fucking hell.” he groaned out, forehead pressed against yours as sweat coiled your still clothed bodies. one of his hands were tightly gripping your hips as the other leverage himself. he started a pace, trying to get every reaction and noise out of you as he lovingly stared in your eyes. you stared back at him, lips pouty and red from his lavish attentions. you could feel it, the same feeling of butterflies inside your tummy as you arched feeling his cock rub every wall inside your cunt.
“it feels so good.” you praised, pecking his lips as your nails dig the flesh of his broad back. he growled, catching your lips again as he started to pound harder, your legs were sprawled open, ass barely touching the ground as he continued to thrust mercilessly with no intention of stopping. his hair brush against your face as you hold onto him tightly, his thrust getting sloppier by the minute. he knew it, knew the spot he hit as he hit it repeatedly as you sobbed at the overstimulating feeling.
“such a good cunt. so fucking good, all pretty for me. good fucking pussy, all mine, mine, mine—“ he messily spew praises against your lips, your walls clamped hard, your high nearing as ever. he groaned loudly, hissing as he buried his face at the crook of your neck. his thrusts almost pushed you up at such power as his cock nudge the spot over and over again. you gasped, heart fluttering, eyes rolling back as hot white sparks made you whine loudly. you grind up, catching the amazing orgasm as eddie fucking moaned. the hard rock music in the backgrounded faded as you heard him mutter every word he could muster before finally coming with one hard stroke of his dick. he gasped as well, spilling himself inside the condom, your gummy walls milking him out as guitar streams grew louder as ever. you panted, not minding his death grip on your hips. you softly caressed his sweaty back, coaxing him out of his high. his breath was hot against your neck, making you rub your face on his frizzy locks. he smelled good, good that the scent of sex was now overwhelming the air around the two of you.
“i think my knees gave out. shit, fuck—“ eddie suddenly spoke, groaning, still inside of you. “best fucking sex, goddamn.”
“i know.” you lazily grinned as he lifted himself up. “what a way to welcome me in, munson.” you smiled, joking as he huffed and laughed. you were still a bit shaking as eddie helped you up to sit. he tossed your pants back as you gladly thanked him. a moment of silence enveloped the two of you as he finally looked presentable, hair still sweaty on his forehead. his cheeks were flushed and you admired him for being so cute, reminding you he had just fucked you to the oblivion. he caught your stare, smiling as pecked your lips.
“it’s not too late to actually ask you out, is it?” eddie asked, voice low and shy. you stared at him, mouth a bit open as your tummy churn in excitement. “so, would you like me to take you out for dinner after this? that cheesy thing people do and maybe we can also— you know.”
“i would love to.” you answered quickly, you already liked him and there’s was no intention you had just wanted the sex and all.
“fuck. okay. i’m a bit awkward with all of this. this is cool.” you laughed seeing him so bashful, you grabbed his shirt to kiss him one more time. his lips moulded over yours, slow and sensational, perfect it was. you broke away, patting his chest before proceeding to find your shredded undergarment and to find it nowhere. you panicked, the realization of mike, dustin and the others were now on your mind as you frantically searched for it. hoping, it wasn’t laying somewhere that they’ll see it as you just pulled your pants up for your modesty. you suddenly looked up to the cheeky bastard, seeing some amusement behind his eyes as he watched you.
you glared. “where’s my panties, eddie?”
mike and dustin were scared seeing no sign of you in the hallway. they were scared knowing eddie would freak out if they didn’t have sub tonight. “where the fuck is y/n?” dustin asked, voice trembling. fearing you bailed on them.
“i don’t fucking know! shit.” mike sighed as they spotted the other three members of hellfire coming in now. they collected themselves, taking deep breaths as they followed in. praying to the gods eddie wasn’t revved up as usual. your voice followed their ears, dustin eyes were wide at the scene as mike followed his gaze to see you sat down on the table in-front of eddie, happily chatting with their leader. who, in fact, looked so giddy as well making their eyes wide.
“you’re early, y/n.” dustin called you out, his nervousness slowly dying from his system. you turned your head to the boys, smiling as eddie’s hand was resting on your thigh as you stood up from your place. “too early, in fact.” dustin added, shifting his gaze between munson and you suspiciously.
“i am. i was just welcomed into hellfire.” you winked at them. mike grimaced as dustin nodded unknowingly.
“and we we’re just getting to know each other very well. ain’t that right, baby?” eddie added, smiling widely. you looked down to him, eyes slightly widening as he flashed your ripped panties before you, it was tucked safely inside his pocket. he had a devilish glint in his eyes and a smirk plastered on his lips. teasing you so bad. fucking bastard. you thought, thighs clenching again, fearing the boys knew what happened now.
but, at least that it was indeed one hella of a night for you and him.
i am a slut for eddie. <3
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ruporas · 8 months
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wolfwood being meant to care about someone so openly and honestly OOOOGH *explodes*
anyways with the modern au vision, as much as it pains me to hear about the devastation they go through, and their 2 year breakup followed by a period of uncertainty and being afraid of hurting or being hurt... as painful as all that is, in the end, i'm still just glad that they are both alive and well and able to go through this with each other 😭
anyways thank you for your art and keep up the great work as always, it brings much joy to my life!! <3 easily my favorite trigun art and artist ^^
-- jay
eee youre so sweet, thank you so much for enjoying my modern au vision!!!! and i wholeheartedly agree... i think in every universe, they're bound to end up with conflict, separation, lots of anger and grief within their own personal lives that'd inevitably entangle into how they'd perceive one another and themselves and what they both think they deserve. even in a modern au, they cannot escape their self doubts... that's just the kind of people they are </3 but the time they didn't have in canon, they will have it in a modern au, allowing time to recover, allowing another chance. at the end of it, i like to imagine them happy and married and with a small family of their own, living long and peacefully.
thank you so much for your kind words T_T!! i'm happy that my work can make you happy, thank you!
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sungbeam · 7 months
Text
𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞
agent!kim sunwoo x agent!fem!reader
6.3k words, enemies 2 implied lovers?, spy au, angst, action, swearing, depictions of violence/blood/weaponry, drinking, UNREALISTIC STANDARDS FOR HOW LONG SOMEONE CAN BLEED OUT T_T, mentions of murder and death, i think that's the bulk of it?
a/n: requests now closed! omg i actually had quite the trouble writing this one 🤧 but i hope it's still enjoyable!! thanks so much @shakalakaboomboo for ur req <3
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There was something about the rain tonight that would make the smell of blood even more distinct. The moment you stepped out of the cab, you were hit by a wave of hot, all-consuming heat, accompanied by the insistent drumming of the downpour. The near abandoned streets tonight were doused in the scent of petrichor, and you blinked the water out of your eyes as you made your way toward the entrance of the building of interest.
Just as you had expected, Chanhee had logged your identification into the system, and your card alerted green with no problem. The man standing guard by the scanner passed you a nod. “Evening, Miss.”
You gave a nod back, sweeping your hand through your drenched hair to get it out of your eyes. “Good evening. Is there a bathroom nearby? I’m kind of new to the building.”
He pointed down the hall, around the corner. “Right that way. Have a good night.”
“Thanks, you, too. Stay dry!” You added the last part with a lighthearted smile, coaxing a similar expression from the guard who no doubt had a long night ahead of him. If everything worked out okay, he would still be able to leave alive. If everything worked out perfectly, then everyone could leave this building alive tonight.
You winced to yourself as the soles of your shoes squelched with each step, the shiny marble floors becoming even more shiny as water dripped down to form a trail to the bathroom. You found the ladies’ washroom right where the man had said it would be and let yourself in.
You saw his reflection before you even saw him. Your heart leapt in your chest, but that slowly came back down to Earth when your brain processed who it was. Eyes narrowed, you went over to the middle stall and enclosed yourself within.
“Took you long enough,” Kim Sunwoo, the bane of your existence, drawled. He stood outside of the stalls, leaning against the sink counter, with his body fully equipped with all the necessary items. He seemed to be fully dry, despite it having rained cats and dogs outside. The suit was dry, his hair was dry. Everything about him was pristine and neat and ready to go—howdy doo.
You glared at the door as if you were Superman with x-ray vision and laser eyes. There was a garment bag hanging on the back of the stall that you swiftly unzipped to swap out your drenched clothes with. “What the fuck are you doing in the women’s restroom, you perv?”
“Well, the only other person in here is you, so I wouldn’t say it was much of a scandal. It’s just you, after all,” he replied snidely.
You shivered as the air hit your cold, wet skin, and you hobbled into the pair of dress slacks that were given to you. You really hoped that Chanhee hadn’t given you a pair of chunky loafers just for “fashion’s” sake this time. (You appreciated his fashion advice on any other occasion, except when you were on an assignment.) To your relief, they were a simple pair of flats, and you dug out a note in the left shoe with Chanhee’s scrawl: Found the most boring, “practical” pair of shoes in the closet. You’re welcome.
“Do you ever worry about sounding like an asshole?” You voiced out into the echoey bathroom as you buttoned up your blouse and donned your suit jacket. “Oh, wait. I forgot that assholes don’t have to worry about sounding like an asshole.”
You could hear his eyes roll from behind the door.
Once you were done, you shoved all your sopping wet clothes into the garment bag and stepped out of the stall to twist your hair up and off your shoulders. Sunwoo eyed you from his little corner. There was a screen propped in one of his gloved hands as he went over the schematics of the building and where the two of you needed to go to retrieve the required target before the auction.
“Are we ready, princess?” He asked sarcastically while you double checked the weapons and tools hidden in certain parts of your clothing. Knives, ammo, lock picks, and a gun.
You ignored his mocking nickname for you. "Do you have the money?" You asked him as you both started making your way to the bathroom door.
"No." He nearly crashed face first into your back from how abruptly you stopped. He frowned. "Can you move—?"
You whirled on him. "We can't go to an auction to bid on an item without money," you said, feeling your pulse rise in your neck.
"We can," he huffed, reaching around you to open the door and usher you out, "if we're not there to bid."
"Since when were we not going to bid for it?" Your head went on a swivel, voice low, as you stuck close to Sunwoo on the way over to the private set of elevators further down the hall. It was awfully quiet in the lobby, save for the sounds of your breathing and footsteps.
Sunwoo passed you his device and reached into his jacket pocket to toss you a card on a lanyard. "Since Changmin and I decided it would be easier to just steal the damn thing instead."
Your head raced as you skimmed through the schematics and plans that Sunwoo and Changmin had come up with. These were blueprints of the auction room, neighboring rooms, and vents. Yeah, chunky loafers would not have done you any favors tonight.
But footwear wasn't the problem. The problem was that half the team had gone and decided on a whole new plan without consulting the other half. You jammed your finger against the "up" button to summon the elevator. "Of course, you would go behind my back and just decide this."
He tucked his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. "The director already okayed it. Plus, they weren't willing to give us more money than they approved of."
The elevator doors opened, and the both of you stepped inside. Sunwoo reached over and jammed his thumb against floor forty-two.
You leaned your head against the elevator wall, eyes fluttering closed. You would have throttled the director for not approving of more money being put towards this assignment. You thought it would only make sense since the flash drive that was being auctioned off tonight contained such highly sensitive information. It just didn't make sense.
"If we won the auction the right way," Sunwoo suddenly said as you mentally cartwheeled through about a dozen potential scenarios and concerns, "that would simply put a target on our backs for those who want it. Stealing it first would keep our identities low profile."
You had to admit that his words had some reason to them. You watched the numbers on the elevator tick-tock its way up to level forty-two. "So what's the plan, Oh Mighty One?" You asked, inspecting the card on the lanyard around your neck. It had the same identification as the card you'd used to get into the building, but this one had a special seal in the corner that would no doubt be used to get you into the auction itself.
"You're gonna cut the lights, and I'm gonna steal the drive."
Your head whipped toward him. "You're shitting me. I'm not a man-in-the-chair, Sunwoo."
"Never said you were," he said. "It's just too risky to have us both go for it."
Something creeped into your chest and your fingers clenched around your lanyard. "Don't give me that bullshit," you said, having to pull back a full-on snarl. "Just say you have zero faith in me to my face." It was just like the academy all over again. You could hear his taunts egging you on from across the sparring mat, could envision his gaze cutting toward you with every first rank he received. He was good at almost everything, while you had to haul ass to even get to second.
You were so sick of being underestimated.
He considered you for a moment, but you couldn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the steel doors of the elevator. He opened his mouth to say something, but the elevator slowed to a stop and the two of you had to walk out onto the floor.
The two of you fell into step with one another as you made your way down the hall to the large pair of doors at the end. There were two men stationed on either side, dressed in the typical dark suits and earpieces. Attached to their belts, you noted the shotguns hanging there. If you could get closer, you might be able to identify the model…
"IDs," said the one on the right when you and Sunwoo approached.
You and Sunwoo held your cards face up, and both guards took a device from their back pockets to scan the seals in the corner. When their devices lit up green, they reached for the doors and beckoned you through.
The auction room itself looked cavernous with its wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, ceiling dripping with panels of modern lighting, and pedestals littered about the room like a fancy showroom of expensive black market items. You and Sunwoo stuck together mainly, thankfully not sticking out like a sore thumb thanks to the business smart attire you'd changed into. There were a few people with more luxury branded garments on, but other than that, it seemed Chanhee had hit the dress code right on its nose.
Sunwoo tapped you on the arm with the back of his hand, his fingers subtly marking out the chairs, the second floor railing around the perimeter of the room, and the guarded door by the foot of the stage. "We need a distraction to get in there. Once we get inside, we'll have plenty of time to grab the thingamajig since it's the last on the—"
"Hold on—the thingamajig?" Your face screwed up in incredulity.
"Are you judging? Why are you judging?" He asked, plucking twin flutes of champagne off an orbiting waiter's tray. He handed you one. "Drink this. Act natural."
You rolled your eyes and chugged the glass. While you did think Sunwoo was good at a lot of things, alcohol tolerance was one of the few where you came out on top. Right now, you were going to take full advantage of it because that liquid courage was definitely needed. "You say that like I've never done this before, lightweight."
"Oh, shut up."
You and Sunwoo lingered for a moment, pretending to eye the list of auction items being displayed on the flat screen on stage. According to the countdown timer, the two of you only had a few minutes before—
The lights went out.
A gasp fell over the crowd as you placed your empty glass on a nearby table and grabbed Sunwoo by the upper arm. "That wasn't you, was it?" You whispered to him, making your way toward the side of the room where the back door was.
"Yes, because I can control electricity with my mind," he hissed back at you.
"Everyone, please remain calm—" a man had stepped onto the stage and was attempting to placate everyone in the room. He had his hands held out, an easygoing smile on his face. All of the guards and staff members were holding up emergency flashlights, and a few other guests were beginning to pull out their cellphones.
Yours and Sunwoo's eyes darted from the crowd to the man guarding the back door. To your surprise, you saw the man pause at something in his earpiece, before turning around to enter the door he was guarding.
"Fuck, catch the door," you said to Sunwoo, grabbing the glass out of his hand and shoving him toward the door.
He launched for it, barely shoving his body through the opening before it clicked shit. He grimaced as you caught up to him. "This door is fucking heavy," he said, baring his teeth at you when he noticed you were trying to prevent the champagne from spilling. "Can you put down the damn alcohol, Ln?"
"It might come in handy," you quipped, slipping in through the door behind him.
When the door shut behind you, the hallway was encased in darkness, save for the haunting red EXIT signs above your heads, one at each end of the hallway. You followed Sunwoo's lead since he'd been the one to study the blueprints of this place, your free hand grazing over the pistol hanging from your belt beneath the flap of your suit jacket.
"What the hell happened? That wasn't one of us, was it?" You voiced into the dark.
Sunwoo had whipped out a small flashlight and put the butt in his mouth to hold while he jimmied the opposite door open. "Mm-mm," his answer was muffled, but you knew what he meant. The door fell open a little too easily, and Sunwoo only cocked his head in curiosity for a moment, then he was moving forward.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you heard voices echoing from somewhere within this next room. The AC was jacked up to a decently high power here, keeping the room cool and dry for all the items that were supposedly being auctioned. This next room was a labyrinth of shelves, and through them, you could make out the movement of lights slicing through the spaces.
"This feels too easy," you murmured to your partner as the two of you peered through the cracks between shelves.
"Yeah, no kidding," he muttered back. "I think somebody is trying to steal something, too."
"The drive?"
"Could be."
The voices came closer, footsteps shuffling and light swarming through the shelves like visible beams through a thick fog.
You grabbed onto Sunwoo again and yanked his arm over your shoulders. You felt him stiffen. "Act drunk, you idiot," you instructed into his ear, "and when they get close enough, do the thing."
He sent you a look. "The thing? And why do I have to be the drunk one again—"
"Freeze!"
Both you and Sunwoo's heads shot up as bright lights blinded your vision. You couldn't tell how many there were—two? Three? But you felt Sunwoo relax in your hold as he sunk into the role you'd assigned him.
"I'm so sorry," you lamented, holding up the flute of champagne in your hand. "My friend over here just drank waaay too much at the open bar and started wandering."
The lights were nearing. "How did you two get back here?" Asked the same voice.
"The door was unlocked during the power outage! I am so—" Your eyes found the circle shapes of the muzzles of handguns being pointed at you and your partner when they had neared enough, "—sorry. We're just a little lost now."
You squeezed Sunwoo's side as you hobbled the two of you closer to the lights like a damsel in distress. "Just point us in the right direction and we'll be—"
If you didn't know Sunwoo like you did, you probably wouldn't have even registered what just happened. But within the blink of an eye, you felt him leave your grasp, and you tossed the glass of champagne at one of your opponents. "Hey, catch!"
On instinct, the one across from you had to drop something to catch the flying glass of champagne, and unlucky for them, it happened to be their gun. Your foot kicked that sucker like a soccer ball beneath the nearest shelf. You grabbed the champagne out of their hand—thanked them for holding it—then smashed the glass over their head.
Quick and easy, yet your heart was pounding against your chest. What the hell was going on?
When you were finished, you leaned down to pick up the fallen flashlight. Sunwoo was looming over his own opponent with his boot on the man's chest, and he pocketed the spare gun while the flashlight hung from his other hand.
You both looked at each other. "We gotta go."
"I can't believe you made me do the drunk scenario."
"Can you just shut up and focus?"
Navigating the maze of shelving was a lot easier with the flashlights. At least now, both of you could see where you were going without fear of anyone else catching you. But when neither of you found the so-called hard drive you were tasked with retrieving, you were met instead by another door leading out to another unknown location.
Sunwoo dove in headfirst. (Right, he studied the maps. Ugh.) "I have a feeling someone's taken the drive already, so be prepared to shoot."
The next room was a long corridor that sloped downward toward a lone elevator. Creepy.
You scowled. "Like I'm never prepared to shoot?"
His gaze was equally as disgruntled. "Just because you got the highest marks in all of our projectiles classes doesn't mean you'll actually shoot."
That remark was something akin to an arrow to your chest. A muscle feathered in your jaw as he called the elevator up to the floor. "You were the top of class in projectile training; you have a license to kill; and yet, you have zero kills in your stats."
How the…? "I don't have to kill to execute my objective. Those aren't assignments I take," you countered, stepping into the elevator when it opened its jaws for you.
Sunwoo crossed his arms over his chest. "Ln, you didn't even take the gun away from the guy earlier. That is protocol."
"I have a gun—"
"That's not the problem, and you know it." He snarled. He took a step near you, both of your tensions rising, heat boiling between your two gazes, nostrils flared. "Just think about it, huh? How many times could you have made it easier on yourself by shooting your way out of something? You know what I would do to have an aim like yours? It's a fucking gift in this field, Ln. And yet, here you are, too scared to even hold a gun—"
You stepped into his space, got up in his face. "You know fucking nothing about me, so quit acting like you do," you snarled and forced the tremor out of your voice. Your hand fisted at your side, close to the weapon you were cursed and gifted to always be tied to.
His tongue poked the inside of his cheek and you were so close to him that you could measure the length of his eyelashes. "What in hell happened to you?"
The elevator dinged. You'd arrived.
You pulled away, mentally shaking yourself away from this conversation. "Don't start acting like you care now."
"I don't," he said as you both walked out of the elevator into a massive underground parking structure beneath the building. "I just need to know that I can count on you if we're in trouble."
"You can," you answered. But there was a microscopic break there, and you were certain he'd heard it, too. There was a question in his stare—he was never as good with guns, but he could fight his way out of a scenario just as well. You were the right choice out of the two of you for anything long range, but the question was if you could still live up to that one-trick reputation.
The underground garage created the perfect echo chamber for loud noises. You and Sunwoo simply followed the audible cacophony coming from further within the garage. Gun rounds were being unloaded without mercy, tire squeals were shut down by no doubt those same gun shots.
You wiped your hand on your pants, sticky from the champagne from earlier, as you and your partner pressed yourselves up against two columns. Just beyond, there was an active shootout taking place—which side had the merchandise, you weren't quite sure of.
Sunwoo signaled to you in a way you recognized from games of capture the flag at the academy. Two fingers swished toward the men behind the cars closest to him, then for you, the ones on your side. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you could only nod, and enclosed your fingers around the handle of the gun in your belt.
You blindly double checked the ammunition loaded up in your firearm, but it was futile since you'd already checked in the bathroom much earlier. It was loaded completely, and very much ready to fire.
You didn't need Sunwoo to signal, because you seemed to know exactly when the other was going to whip around the stone column and take one person out at a time.
Arm—one down—a leg, oh, was that a thigh?—but there went two off your side, as easy as shooting clay pigeons. Instead of a jitteriness filling your nerves, everything seemed to muffle and calm when you had a gun between your fingers. Like second nature, you picked off people (without killing them) before they even realized their mates were gone.
You would nail them in the arm, the shoulder, the butt, the leg, then duck behind the pillar for cover. Guns had become too easy of a game for you.
You barely even noticed that the others on Sunwoo's side started shooting at both of you.
"Fuck," you heard your counterpart curse as he pressed himself against the column.
The two of you connected gazes, and he didn't even have to ask before you were pulling down the hammer again and taking aim—
"LN—YN! BEHIND YOU!"
Your heart lurched into your throat, and you dove.
A line of bullets buried themselves into the concrete where your head had been, and you winced, feeling the burn of concrete through your clothes.
You rolled behind the nearest car, swearing as you clambered to your knees for cover. Somebody had set up a few cars behind you, ready to take you out with an automatic rifle.
"Sunwoo, you need to cover me," you shouted at him, glancing over your shoulder for his visual confirmation.
He gave a firm nod, already leaping into hand-to-hand action and ditching his gun for his more trustworthy melee weapons instead.
Through the windows of the car, you could just make out movement of the gunman. You crawled over to the other side of the car, tracking the feet and legs you could see beneath the vehicles. You reloaded your pistol, smacking the magazine into place, then pressing the hammer down.
Shots suddenly rained down on you, and you pressed yourself further to the ground.
"Come on, come on," you urged, "reload already."
And when you heard that beautiful sound of silence, you yanked yourself to your feet, pointed the barrel through the window, and shot. You heard the curse, and it was enough for you to whip over the back of the car and smack the butt of your gun into their head. The gunman went crashing to the concrete; you tucked your pistol away and picked up the automatic.
The heft of the gun was an old friend—it sank over you in cold realization… how much damage you could do with this.
With pursed lips, you emptied out the gun and kicked it under the car.
You rushed to line up a shot with your pistol to help Sunwoo who was juggling a fight against two others.
He didn't need that much help, but there was the glint of a knife, and you didn't even blink. The bullet buried itself in one of their shoulders, and Sunwoo elbowed him off his back, shoving the other's face into the car in front of him. He yanked his opponent's hair back and smashed their head into the metal again.
"You got it?" You asked him, sliding over the hoods of cars to get back.
He knew what you meant. Blood ran down his nose and there was a purplish cut on his lip. Sweat dripped down the side of his face as he dumped the now unconscious foe to the concrete. "Yeah, it went flying somewhere over there," he inclined his head down a row of cars, and you gave a nod.
The two of you jogged over in the direction Sunwoo asserted and began looking for the discarded drive.
You straightened after ducking beneath a car, but your eyes caught a flash of someone—your instincts lurched.
"Fuck, Sunwoo—!" You had the time to shove him out of the way as the rounds went flying past your heads and you tackled him.
Something pierced into the skin of your shoulder though, and you felt the bullet rip through your clothes and flay your skin as it passed. Your hand slapped over your arm as you fellz Sunwoo's stabilizing you. "Shit, Ln," he said, grasping your good side.
"It's the guy from earlier," you groaned, feeling the blood begin to pool.
"Huh? What guy—"
"The one I didn't take the gun from in the hall." The regret poured into you as swiftly as your blood flowed out of you. "I'll cover you—just find the damn thing."
He sent you a look, but nodded. "Okay."
You were lucky you hadn't been nicked in your good arm, you thought, as you clambered to your knees and peered over the edge of the car.
There he was, the man you'd smashed over the head with a glass. His forehead was bleeding profusely, but he still stumbled toward you, cocking his gun and firing. You ducked, crouching around the car to get to the other side. Mind racing for strategies, you thought you could easily take him down one limb at a time like the others.
All thoughts went flying out the window though when the man started barreling toward you, teeth bared, like a bull seeing red. You yelped as a bullet pelted the ground an inch from your hand. You ducked behind the car, ignoring the pain in your shoulder to palm your gun and aim.
You heard it hit its target.
But he just kept running.
"Are you serious?" You cursed, then regretting it immediately when he threw himself across the hood of the car to knock you down.
You cried out as your head hit the car behind you, the pain stabbing white in your vision. Adrenaline and fear pumped through you as you fought to keep his hands away from your neck. You even found where your bullet had lodged itself and pressed on it.
He grunted at the feeling, nearly twisting your arm off for that. You were trying, trying, trying.
His gun was gone; it didn't matter. You weren't good at hand to hand.
And your grip on his thick fucking wrists slipped. His hands were around your throat. You couldn't breathe—you thrashed around, smashed your gun against his face. He swept your efforts away, determination pressing his thumbs into the hollow—
BANG!
You saw the life drain out of his eyes. He fell over you, blood and a smoking gun sandwiched between your bodies.
Oxygen rushed into your lungs and you coughed. The realization hit you, a hammer striking against the percussion cap.
You just killed this man. You just shot him, point blank.
Oh god—you heaved his limp body off you, his blood staining your clothing, and you felt like Lady Macbeth, scrambling over blood that would not wash away.
"Yn!" Sunwoo's voice.
You wrestled to your hands and knees. "It's not my blood," you coughed, dry gagging at the sight of the pale body, rigid from rigor mortis.
Your mind was everywhere. Another one dead. What if he had a family? What if what if what if—?
"Ln, come on, you're alive. You can do it."
You were on your feet. There was a ringing in your ears from when your head smashed against the car.
Sunwoo ran over to you and threw your good arm over his shoulder to get you to the car he had broken into. "There you go. Hey, I got the drive. How 'bout that?" He wiggled a slim, black tab—the thing that had caused all of tonight's trouble.
You shook out the orbs dancing in your vision. How hard had your head been struck? "It still feels too easy."
"Don't say that," he groaned. "I just wanna get out of this place."
You really shouldn't have spoken so soon.
You heard the shot before you felt it; then the next one, then the next.
Sunwoo twisted around to shoot three rounds himself, silencing one of the people who had gotten the strength to pull himself up for one last try.
All breath left your throat as your hand reached for your lower abdomen. One of the bullets had gone through, piercing the side of your stomach. It had gone all the way through, back to front, the bullet lodged in the metal of the car in front of you.
You couldn't even see which blood stain was yours.
"Nonononono," Sunwoo chanted as your knees buckled and you started slipping to the ground. "Yn—Yn, stay with me," he urged, laying you gently on the ground.
The pain twisted itself until your eyes watered. You thought you tasted blood in your mouth. "Should've shot them dead like you said," you managed to say.
Sunwoo leaned over you, panic wide in his dark eyes as he held your face between his palms. "Yn, honey, you need to stay with me." He pressed his hands over the wounds opening and you screamed, the sound grating against his ears. He knew it hurt—god, he knew, but he needed to stop the bleeding somehow. Oh fuck.
"I'm sorry I screwed up so many times," you grunted to him. You tasted the iron coating your throat and suppressed the urge to cough it all out. You could barely think with the fucking hole in your stomach, but all you knew was that if he wasn't quick, the shot could be fatal.
"I'm gonna get you out of here." You could hear the resolve in his voice, but the shaky undertone, too. You'd never heard his voice shake before. "Don't apologize." Not until I get you out alive.
He scooped you up and you screwed your face up in agony. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your teeth clamping down on your tongue to muffle the screams. There was blood in your mouth.
It hurt. Fucking hell, it hurt.
He went through the motions of wrestling the car door open, laying you in the passenger seat, trying to find something to staunch the bleeding on both sides.
The whole time, you kept your eyes on his face, trying to ingrain his features in your memory. The blood from his nose had partly dried, but the cut on his lips made his bottom one even poutier.
You'd never seen him so worried, or scared, with the crease between his brows. You wanted to reach up and rub it away.
"Hey," you rasped, catching his wild eyes. "Stop fussing over me and drive."
He clicked his tongue, eyes darting between your face and the knot he was tying with the jacket he found in the backseat. "Yah," he said half-heartedly, "don't tell me what to do."
He passed you another glance before shutting your door and running for the driver's seat.
As soon as Sunwoo collapsed into his side of the car, the elevator, from which you'd come, slid open. A flood of guards in armor and equipped with automatic weapons flooded out in a tidal wave. You both swore a colorful line of words.
"Drive, drive, drive—!" You urged, breaking out into coughs, then doubling over when the motion only intensified the bullet wound.
"What do you think I'm doing, woman!" He yelled and the tires squealed as he pulled out of the parking spot to make a mad dash for the exit.
Bullets fired at the car, lodging themselves in the metal and cracking the back windshield. You heard the glass shatter, and you reached for your gun to try and knock some of them off.
Sunwoo shoved your hand down. "Oh, no you don't. Save your energy, hot stuff."
It wasn't until he had navigated you both away safely from harm's way that you really let everything soak into your head. Your blood marinated the car seat beneath you, and you could feel your energy being siphoned toward the gaping hole in your stomach. Reality dawned on you faster and faster.
Did you fear death?
The streets were empty; it was still raining. You were right about the hot rain—it made the blood scent bolder.
Sunwoo made a turn onto a street, and another, to take any lingering tails off.
"I killed someone tonight," you voiced out into the quiet car amongst the humdrum of rain. It drizzled in through the shattered back windshield and onto the backseat.
"It's okay, Yn," he said quietly. "You had to."
You paused, swallowing. You inhaled sharply and you swore you were starting to get used to the throbbing all over your body. "You… you were right."
"You don't have to do that. Save your en—"
"No," you said with more force. His mouth snapped shut. "I just—" your eyes drifted closed for a moment, "—I just wanted to get this off my chest."
When he remained quiet to give you the space to speak, you told him, "What you said in the elevator was right… I uhm, I feel like a coward when I can't stomach a headshot anymore. I just… Sunwoo, I hate who, or what, I become when I have a gun in my hands."
You felt him glance over at you. "You're not a monster, if you think that's what you are," he murmured. You felt his hand cover yours where you were holding your injury.
"I've hurt a lot of people," you admitted, eyes staring out the front windshield. "The organization told me to pull the trigger, and I did. Even in the academy, I never felt good enough unless I was hitting a target." It had become a momentary triumph only, until every hit made you sink deeper and deeper into guilt. You had been tearing yourself apart at the seams, and you could remember those moments, seeing the fallen with people who cared about them rushing to their side.
The twisting in your stomach suddenly didn't feel like it was from the gunshot.
"Your record—"
"My record is doctored," you said blankly. "They wiped it when I gave up being a sniper."
He meditated on that for a moment, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He winced when he was reminded of the injury there. "I know that I was and have been—not the greatest toward you—and... I'm sorry. I think some part of me just thought it would catch your attention—which is no excuse—but…" His finger tapped on the steering wheel in time with his blinker. "I always thought that you would go far regardless. I thought you'd be recruited as a sniper for the high profile shit."
A smile curled at the corner of your lips. "Yeah?"
He nodded, his own lips pressed together. "Yeah. The best, y'know? And I thought… at least as a sniper, you won't be in the line of fire."
Your chest throbbed. "I still got shot, too, though."
"Yeah, but…" He turned into a barren residential street, no doubt toward the safe house nearby. "They wouldn't be shooting at you, I guess. I dunno. That's what I was telling myself, anyway."
You shifted your head slightly to peer over at him. There was a sincerity to his words that you had almost never remembered hearing out of his mouth. You believed him—you believed that he cared. "Thinking about me in your free time, Kim?"
"You wish," he joked, but it was a weaker comeback.
The house he pulled up to was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was the standard, cookie cutter suburban house, with its front lawn trimmed and windows dark and lifeless. Sunwoo carefully drove the car into the empty garage for privacy, then ran over to your side to help you out.
You could feel yourself falling out of consciousness with all the blood loss.
Your head was drooping as he picked you up in his arms again. The crease between his brows made a reappearance and with your last bit of strength, you reached up to gently rub it away with your thumb. "Hey… I'm gonna be okay," you whispered to him in the dark and quiet of the garage.
He swallowed, peering down at you. "You better be," he said. "Who's gonna have my back then?"
You smiled since you couldn't laugh. Maybe the blood loss was making you loopy (probably), but you swore he smiled just a teensy bit.
He managed to get you on the couch, and you whimpered at the surface beneath you. He disappeared for a moment, but when he returned, it was with a first aid kit and a phone. "I called headquarters; they'll be here in five," he murmured, kneeling next to you and beginning to peel off the blood coated fabrics.
You hissed, body squirming with whatever energy you had left. "I can't believe I'm still alive."
He huffed and gently applied pressure to the wound with gauze. "The only one who gets to kill you is me. Remember that."
"Yeah, yeah," you panted. "Sew me up or something."
"It's gonna hurt. Wanna hold my hand?"
Your eyes met his. "You're ridiculous." But somehow, he managed to make your heart lurch. Even bleeding out and halfway dead, he could make your heart rate spike.
He gave a shrug as he threaded the needle and you held onto the gauze for the moment. "You know what they say…" his voice softened when you both heard a familiar voice announcing his presence from the front door—Changmin. Backup was here. "Enemies make the best lovers, do they not?"
"Did it take me almost dying for you to think of that one?"
Changmin rushed in with a full kit in his hands and practically shoved Sunwoo out of the way. You bit on your tongue as the newcomer inspected your wound.
Sunwoo leaned over the edge of the couch and grappled at your hand, his other brushing the sweaty hair out of your face. "We're not done with this conversation, okay? You better not die on me."
You squeezed his hand when Changmin began stitching you up. "Wouldn't dream of it."
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tbz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet @ericlvr
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wachtelspinat · 4 months
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Hey ! I’ve been seeing your art going around since your midnight crew stuff and I just recently stubble across your tumblr, thank to your beautiful overwatch art for our beloveds junkers ! I’ve been scrolling through your account and read about your experience of being a former graphic designer who is a doctor now. And damn. I can’t emphasize how much I admire you, especially as someone who is struggling really hard to choose between 2 careers paths ( with one of them being art related ). This is why I was wondering if you would be open to talk about how and why you switched from art to medecine ? Especially because most of the time I feel it happens more the other way around ? ( If it’s too personal just ignore this ask + sorry if you already talked about it before )
hey ! no worries, i don't expect ppl to scroll through my tumblr to find an answer for a question they might have. first of all thanks for your nice words, means a lot <3
i switched from art to medicine because my early 20-something-self was even more anxiety-ridden than my present-self, and being in art school and having to "perform" regularly was a nightmare. i'm talking about a time in which i was so scared of being perceived that i often skipped grocery shopping, just so i could avoid being around people. so like, pitching art related projects to peers and profs was eeh... especially because art is so personal oh my god. i still hate it when someone tries to sneak a peek while i'm drawing, makes me wanna throw my sketchbook and myself off the bridge. anyways so i always felt a 110% inadequate (plus i got a gf during that time who was so good to me and tried to get me out of my funk on multiple occasions (she was and still is an artist and has now a career as a freelancer and i'm rly proud of her) but i couldn't see that because i just compared the two of us all the time and sabotaged any attempt she made for having fun with drawing with her) that i sat down at some point and asked myself if i could do this any longer, and i came to the conclusion that no, it really kills me rn.
what made me go into the health sector? i don't even know anymore, i think it was a mixture of "i loved biology, esp. the human body in school" and "my mum is an icu nurse and talks a lot about hospitals, maybe i should check it out"... it was not a well thought through decision, which is so funny because studying medicine was a hell of a meatgrinder ride (also my anxiety and self hatred? still there, but now i wasn't judged anymore because of my art but instead being called a dumb idiot collectively with all the other students because nobody likes med students) and for some reason i was able to get through that despite it not being my passion at all, but i couldn't stand up for myself in art school. i don't even know if i could work through it nowadays, but the good thing is i don't have to ask myself this question anymore, because being a doctor pays the bills, and ever since i left art school i was able to just draw without consequence. which is nice to a degree, my artistic output is not tied to the means of generating money. on the other hand... idk, in another life with more confidence and less worries, i'd love to be some sort of character designer T_T
so yeah that's basically it. at some times i cherished my career decisions, at other times i regretted them deeply, worst thing is i know it has a lot to do with personality, but the fact that we can't change who we are with a blink of an eye gives me the framework to think that the path i took was ok. as in. things happened for a reason and maybe i'm just not cut out for that kind of work. you have to be aware of the conditions of a job to decide if you are up for it. because being an artist doesn't end with "just draw". i myself had an unrealistic view of the job back then too. and the fact that i could not seperate between personal aspects and "doing a job here" was crucial.
yeah, idk if this is helpful at all. i think the one thing that is super important here is to have a realistic view on the conditions of work you are about to head into, and i know this is mostly very difficult to aquire. because unless you really work in a sector there is often no way to fully grasp the situations you can find yourself in (this applied for me also in the health sector, which made me fall into a depression a year ago, but what do you do after you spent 6 years of studying :') ). doing internships and just trying to get to know a lot of things really helps. and - idk how old you are, but if you're really young: it's ok to switch careers at some point. it's even ok to do so when you are older (trying to end on a positive note here because it feels like i just said a lot of depressing things... like don't get me wrong i like my job, the conditions are just fucked up, and again my personality prevents me from switching again but it's also not that easy in germany, BUT it's a valid thing to do, being versatile is good! just... make sure you don't end up with a job that you absolutely hate because that kills it all)
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reactionimagesdaily · 4 months
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REACTION IMAGES BLOG PATCH NOTES (aka the 10k follower celebrations got out of hand)
Hey everyone!
So it's been a hot minute since I announced that we passed 10,000 followers on here! I'm sure... well, I'm actually sure that most people won't be TOO fussed either way, but I did say I was gonna do some stuff, and I wanna stick to my word if nothing else xD
So! Let the celebrations begin! Firstly, I'm announcing a new QnA (I love those things) that'll last,,,, I'll say 2 weeks and go from there. Feel free to ask me about whatever you want!! If you want to cater to me specifically, my current big interests are Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk 2077, Mass Effect, and uuuuh Halo. (Also Bionicle remains a constant.) (Lots of scifi videogame stuff at the moment...)
[IK there's still some stuff in the inbox I need to answer/respond to you - I promise I'll get to those as well <3 thank you so much for your patience, if you've been waiting]
Secondly, here's a new song cover! IDK how many of you have played the game Divinity: Original Sin 2, but here's me singing Lohse's song; Sing For Me.
Thirdly: here's a new gimmick blog! I Was Not Joking. (Though, for my sanity, it's gonna be weekly instead of daily.) I'll be posting the images I have saved in my folder called 'feral screenshots' - it'll basically be a collection of cursed images/images with strange auras. I wanna say y'all know the ones, but if you don't, then here's an example of what we're dealing with:
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[Image ID: a person floating in a rubber ring in a swimming pool. On their head is what looks like a life-size Lego head.]
Introduciiiiing the Weekly Weird Images blog!
And Fourthly! It is my great pleasure to announce that we're adding alt text to all the images on this blog! Sorry it took so long to get round to T_T
And yes - I do mean we! To write out all the alt text for these images, I've on-boarded minion-in-chief/court jester aplomb @tizzytinkertilly! I (the reaction images guy) will still be handling every other part of the blog - she'll just be doing that bit. For the sake of my sanity xD
This is kind of a big change - both the addition of alt text, and the fact that this blog is no longer a single-person operation - so for the foreseeable future, the queue's been tweaked so that we only post 2 images a day instead of 4. (Fun fact! 2 images a day was the original MO of this blog, and then covid happened and I was like "I'll make it 4 a day because it'll be a nice thing to do for everyone while they're miserable in this pandemic :)" and then I never stopped (although you could argue that the pandemic never stopped either).) Maybe if/when we fall into a good routine and feel like we can do more, we can bump the rate of images back up, but right now this is a teething phase and I'm keen to slow things down for a little bit. :P (Tumblr has made some WEIRD mechanical choices for group blogs, I'll be honest.)
And, uh, yeah, that's all! Let the QnA begin- Hope y'all enjoy the song cover- Hope y'all enjoy the additional blog- A big welcome to Tinks and to alt text! Happy 10k followers, everybody!
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alexkeller-doodles · 4 months
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I don't know what it is about your doodles, but the first time I saw one of your doodles, I asked myself, 'Are there more of these?', clicked on your pages, and SURE ENOUGH- I've melted. T_T
Why are these so cute enough to make my day, I dunnoooooo! Can you please draw one of Alex x Farah, please?
thank you so much for your kind words!🥺💞 and your wish is my command!
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dead-dove-yandere · 6 days
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Yandere x insecure reader
Yandere who change his completely opposite personality (from non chalant and rigid to cheery and chaos personality where he ofcourse force himself) as what his darling wants, so that he could look like her previous ex, where they dating but the darling didnt get the vibe(?) And sometimes call him by her previous ex by accident, but he understand her, everytime darling feel doubt about their relationship (since she felt unloved except she receive affection from her ex and because she doesnt have feelings), he would always think some kind like "its okay she see him as someone else, he'll be the one who love her for who she is" he tried to convince his darling by keeping up the positive vibe but actually he try very hard to brush his negative thought. I hope youre understand T_T
Hello I am back!! Think I’m better now, touch wood. I have to get into the habit of writing everyday now again so please bear with me if I’m slow!! Im really sorry it took so long and thank you for being patient.
I wrote this as Noah and kinda did so that they know each other already but the darling doesn’t know he’s stalking them - hope that’s alright!! And I hope that I got your idea right too. My brain is still fuzzy 😔
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TW: Stalking, obsession, manipulation
You smile at Noah as you spot him across the cafe and you hold your hand up to wave. He smiles when he spots you and holds up his hand to wave back as you walk over to his table. Is that a new shirt he’s wearing? It looks just like… you try to banish the image of your ex out of your mind as you sit down across from Noah.
“Hi!” You greet. “Traffic was hell.”
“Hey,” he says back, his voice deeper than usual. It was obvious he was putting on a voice, but you felt awkward mentioning it.
“How have you been? Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, an uneasy waver tainting your words. “Same old.”
“You still think about Adam?” Noah asks, a sympathetic smile on his face. He’s trying to sit up straight but he’s wringing his hands, resisting the urge to pick at the skin around his nails.
“It doesn’t matter,” you say, dismissively. “I should’ve… well, I could have been a better partner to him. You know?” Noah’s brow knits together and he leans closer, his smile faded.
“You did your best - if he couldn’t appreciate that, then that’s not your fault.” It was your turn to give a pathetic smile.
“Thanks, Adam,” you said without thinking. Your eyes widen and you quickly cover your mouth with your hand.
“Sorry - Noah. Oh my god.”
“No, hey, it’s -“
“I’m so sorry, Jesus, I shouldn’t have-“
“Hey, hey, it’s alright! You’ve got him on your mimd. It happens.” You shakily let out a sigh and nod.
“Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah. Erm, sorry. You’re right.” Your heart is pounding a million miles an hour, your mind racing as you prayed that the ground would just swallow you up and you’d be out of this nightmare. You could feel Noah’s eyes on you, inspecting you, and you tried not to think of any and every flaw that you had picked apart in the mirror after your ex left, trying to figure out why he never gave you the affection you were desperate for.
Noah, meanwhile, looked calm outside, but inside he was bursting with joy. He could hardly believe it - you had, for a split second, thought that he was your ex. After so much work, so many hours reviewing the footage he had of you and Adam together, recreating every outfit, changing his hair, his cologne, his voice, anything and everything he could think of, he’d done it - he was one step closer to being the man you loved. Only he knew he could be even better once he had you and treated your right. He checked his phone and out of your view, looked at his lockscreen; a picture of you and Adam together when you were still dating. Only this time, Noah could finally imagine that it was him in the photo next to you. Not the bastard ex that made you so insecure in the first place.
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Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post
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rageprufrock · 6 months
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You are the only author in which I’m like - oh look, Pru wrote for a new c-drama. And then I seriously contemplate watching the 40 eps just so I can get the ~full reading experience~ of the fic. What desperation is this??????? T_T
A) Thank you for your kind words! I'm so flattered you like my writing, and it's always humbling to realize that the silly stories I put out on the internet have made an impact on folks.
B) Seriously though you should watch Mysterious Lotus Casebook. It's probably one of my favorite things I've watched in the last few years, and has bewitched me in a way that is difficult to quantify. Most modern Chinese historicals tend toward (badly rendered) romance or are actually more fantasy than wuxia, but Mysterious Lotus Casebook bucks that trend and is funny, well-acted, beautifully costumed and the fight scenes whip ass. It also has an absolutely unhinged female character who decides to take two of the three male leads as her unwilling queen and consort--a decision that the fandom collectively recognizes is her due, as we all support Jiao-jie's rights but more importantly her (objectively deranged) wrongs.
I am also absolutely balls deep in brain rot about this fandom. As I've said before: I refuse to get trenchfoot alone. All of you guys get down here with me and write about Li Lianhua abusing his Yangzhouman technique to go seven rounds and break Fang Duobing's ass but good.
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