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beenbaanbuun · 2 months

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Hey Bunny! I hope you’re doing well <3 so I got this thing with that one interview Hongjoong and Mingi did during his Halazia hair phase.. he looked so damn good with the styling and outfit and the ROSARY 😫 I was wondering if you would be open to the idea of Priest!Mingi and assistant reader, Mingi degrading the reader when she confesses that she thinks of a certain someone in an unholy way. MEAAAN dom Mingi, punishing her for the way she looks at him during service and being told of such sinful things by his assistant. anyway! Thank you so much <3

warnings - priest!mingi, sex in church, oral (m!recieving), throat fucking, degredation, mean dom! mingi, oh god i’m going to hell…

so idk if any of you have seen fleabag but hot priest!mingi is not something i knew i needed until now.

like i’m just thinking about the whole confession scene where fleabag ends up on her knees in front of him, and whilst the hot priest has it in him to walk away, i just know mingi does not.

because for all his talk of being a holy man, this man knows deep down that he is nothing but a slut. perhaps he thought becoming a priest would cure him of his sexual cravings, but instead the abstinence just made it all worse. especially when you started working in his place of worship. such a pretty thing willing to do anything he asks for? you’re sent by the devil as a temptation, he’s sure of it.

the way you look at him during service only proves his theory. how you sit there with your lips agape, practically begging for him to shove something between them, and the way you clench your thighs whenever he speaks to the congregation; it all works against him, reverting him back to the depraved man he was before becoming holy.

so when the two of you end up in the confession booth one evening, he can’t help but hold his breath in anticipation. he prays to his god that he has the courage to power through whatever it is you’re going to tell him. he prays for the ability to control himself, and promises to make up for his sins in any way he can. for a moment, he thinks it’s enough, but then you start talking, and just your voice is enough the make his dick jump in his pants. that’s when he knows for certain you were sent by the devil.

“forgive me father for i have sinned,” you mutter, breath bated as you wait for him to respond. this is a bad idea, you tell yourself. getting horny every time mingi steps into a room is bad enough, but telling him about it feels so much dirtier. perhaps you should keep it a secret; take it to the grave. beg for forgiveness at st. peters gate.

“tell me your sins,” mingi responds, voice breathy. it’s enough to send your mind stumbling into that dark place again. you thought church to be a holy place, so why did you feel more at kin with the devil right now.

“i’ve been having… thoughts, father,” you begin, “sinful thoughts. thoughts i shouldn’t be having outside of wedlock.”

mingi sucks in a breath, tipping his head back until it hats the back of his side of the confession booth. the thud makes you jump in place, but no more so than the noise that follows. a low grunt that seems to echo through the booth. images of what he could be doing in there fill your brain, and you desperately try to shun them away.

“and who are you having these thoughts about?” you’re sure that behind his gravelly voice you can hear the sound of a zipper. you cant help but let your mind spiral even further as images of the man, sweaty with cock in hand, fill your brain. you struggle to hold in the whimper that crawls up your throat.

“you, father,” you whisper, feeling nothing but ashamed of your confession, “i have these thoughts about you.”

silence follows, eerie and daunting. you cant blame him for that; it must be a shock to find out his assistant has been thinking about doing unholy things with him. you can’t help but feel immeasurable guilt for thinking about him in that way, and perhaps you were right when you pondered just taking it to the grave. his silence doesn’t help soothe your concerns in the slightest.

but then the curtain before you is ripped open, and mingi stands before you looking like sin itself. his black shirt is wide open to reveal the smooth skin of his chest. his zipper - you knew you’d heard it - is open, making space for his hand to palm at his boxer-clad crotch. you swallow down your drool as you look into his eyes; dark and menacing as he stares into your soul.

“get on the floor,” he spits. you quickly shuffle off of the bench, dropping to your knees before him. you watch as his thumb circles the wet patch on his boxers, a guttural moan exiting his plush lips as he digs his thumb in slightly. it’s a sight to behold, the way he bites into his bottom lip and scrunches his face up in pleasure. you can’t look away.

“fucking slut,” he pants to himself as he hurries to push his trousers and boxers down past his hips. his dick bounces as it’s freed from its material cage, and upon seeing it you moan. long and hard and thick and everything you’ve ever dreamed of it being. you want to crawl forwards to take a closer look, but before you can, mingi takes a step forward.

his cock it eye level now, and you can’t help but study it. the perfect pink mushroom tip that drips pearlescent liquid from its slit. the silken skin that covers the shaft, glistening with sweat as the dim lights from the confessional booth shine down upon it. the thick vein that runs from his sack to the top, throbbing as it begs for your touch.

“father,” you whisper, looking up at his face with wide eyes.

“what is it, slut?” he spits down at you, “tell me what you want.”

you glance to his dick before looking up at him again. he chuckles darkly, “where has that slutty little tongue gone?” he taunts, “you seemed to have no problem telling me about your sinful thoughts a minute ago, yet now you can’t even tell me what you want? perhaps you’re dumber than i gave you credit for.”

you open your mouth to say something, but clamp it shut when you can’t find the words. mingi just tuts at you from where he stands, waiting impatiently for you to say something.

“please, father,” you feel your face heat up at you stumble over your words, “please may i touch you?”

he scoffs.

“touch me?” a hand grabs your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks in a way that makes your lips pucker. there’s bound to be red crescents on your face, left by his fingernails that show no mercy, digging in to the point where it makes you wince, “you think i’d let a whore like you touch me?”

you whine.

“pathetic,” he grunts as he lets you go. you can’t find the courage to move your hands to massage at your aching jaw. you let it hurt as he presses his fingers to your lips, forcing themselves into your mouth to pull down your bottom jaw. when it’s completely slack, he let’s go and steps closer yet again, “you’re going to pay for what you’ve done, little girl. just sit there and take it, and maybe if you please me, we can talk about your forgiveness.”

he waits to see if you’ll close your mouth, but you don’t. you want this.

and with that, he presses and hand to the back of your head and forces his dick into your mouth, pushing it forward until it hits a barrier at the back of your throat. you choke, but he doesn’t pull back. he just lets it sit there, effectively gagging you until there are tears pooling up in the corners of your eyes and drool threatening to cascade down your chin.

his face is stony as he stares you down, watching you struggle for air so prettily. he pulls back briefly, taking a little mercy on you before pushing back in just as hard as the first time. you barely have time to gasp for air before it’s ripped away from you once again.

he pushes in further, feeling your tight throat clench around his cock and he almost cums on the spot. so warm and wet and tight around him that he can’t help but cry out in pleasure as he pulls back once more.

you’re grateful as he lets you take in a few breaths before delving in once again, this time thrusting messily back and forth. you gag every time he hits your uvular, but it doesn’t seem to deter him. it only eggs him on, driving him to go harder and faster with every single thrust.

he’s close, he realises as he feels you try to swallow around him. your face is already a mess with spit and tears, but he can’t help but feel like you’ll look even prettier with his cum painting your face too.

he pulls out completely, thrusting into his fist a couple of times. the dam breaks quicker than he expected, and the white spurts of liquid that erupt from his tip fall perfectly on your face. you close your eyes just in time for some to land on your eyebrow, dripping down to mix with the tears that have yet to stop flowing.

“pretty little slut,” he hums once he’s finished cumming, and his cock begins to soften in his grasp. he chuckles, “go clean your face up, okay? you have five minutes before i come looking; i want a taste of that slutty little hole next.”

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard hours

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mongooseblues · 3 years

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Bless You Father for I Have Sinned (Fleabag, Hot Priest) 1/1

Did anyone watch Fleabag and/or want to read about a hot priest sneezing?

This works just fine as a standalone if u haven’t seen the show but for context: Hot Irish prob alcoholic “cool swear-y” priest and recovering sex addict and all-around hot mess main character (who doesn’t have a name) strike up a “friendship” that is just a poorly veiled excuse for spending time with someone they want very badly to fuck but can’t bc priesthood vow of celibacy and whatnot.

Here’s ~2k words in which I continuously get off on the idea of blessing a priest and unresolved sexual tension I also don’t resolve.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

“Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it…”

It happens for maybe ten minutes before it starts to stick out to her. Because it’s cold, as it always is on early-spring nights in London, and while they’re both fully dressed (unfortunately), neither is probably quite dressed enough to be out in a garden at this hour. And they’re a bit drunk—not that drunk, they’re both pretty practiced—on the G&Ts he’s so fond of for whatever reason. He specifically likes the kind you get already mixed in a can, which are especially shit, but it’s almost endearing that he likes those in particular. Well, very endearing actually. Goddamn this man—or… hmm, poor choice of words.

It doesn’t really grab her attention until he combines the sniffling with pinching his nostrils together.

“You alright, you’re quite sniffly?”

“I know, I dunno what’s going on,” he says, and punctuates it with a harsher sniffle than the ones previously unacknowledged, “Think ‘m just cold.” He zips his sweatshirt up a bit as if to illustrate.

“We could get you a blanket and swaddle you up like baby Jesus.”

He laughs. She extracts from her coat pocket a pack of cigarettes, takes one herself and angles the carton toward him in offering. Mostly because she wants him to scoot closer to her on the bench as she flicks the lighter for him. The flame illuminates the angles of his face in orange, the back of his fingers grazing her hand by happy accident, and yes, it’s a little pathetic that this momentary skin-to-skin contact is as erotic as it is to her, but that’s what you get when you fancy a priest isn’t it?

“They’re always describing him as being swaddled. Odd word, swaddled. Sounds kind of violent.”

“It does kind of,” he agrees, leaning back against the bench and exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. Her plan worked, he’s ever so slightly closer to her now, post cigarette exchange, close enough that when he sniffles she can feel the slight vibration of his shoulders through the loose fabric on her coat sleeve. It unites them like an accidental spark of electricity she can sense just faintly enough to feel jumpy. Or turned on. Or both.

She really shouldn’t be this shameless about trying desperately to corrupt a man of the cloth she wants to get under. Maybe she’d feel properly guilty if she wasn’t quite so fucking horny.

“So you did read more than just the passages I marked for you?” He asks, at once surprised and pleased and maybe nervous, grinning but also looking away for a moment as if he could disguise all of that.

“Not really, just the birth of the ol’ lord and savior. It seemed like it’d be climactic.”

“Was it?”

“Can’t say I climaxed reading it, no,” she says with a cheeky look that elicits the laughter she’s looking for, “No offense but it’s really quite boring, this book you love so much.”

“Yeah… that’s a tragically common sentiment among reviewers.” He’s scratching at his nose with the back of one wrist with such intensity it’s unmistakeable how much it’s bothering him.

“Don’t care much for the writing style either, I have to say.”

If the irritation could be resolved with a mouse-like scrunch of the nose he’d have figured it out by now, and clearly he hasn’t because he still has to shrink into his crossed arms like an accordion with a fairly high-pitched, vocal and thus somehow Irish-accented, “Hehh-ishhYUE!”

“Bless. The only way I was able to get through it was by imagining you in every speaking role.”

It’s a sentence meant to provoke him, not unlike most of her sentences, and for a minute as her eyes are on her own exhaled smoke and he fails to respond, she wonders whether it sounded even weirder than she meant it, but as it turns out he’s just about to sneeze again — squinting into the distance and bringing an arm to his face in slow motion.

“Mmff-SHOO!” He blinks in surprise as he resumes his previous position on the bench, now shifted just a bit farther away from her. Damn.

“Ugh, sorry. Every speaking role?? Ohfuck— ahh-ishSHEU!”

“Jesus.”

“You imagined me as Jesus??”

“No I mean Jesus, are you okay, did you catch something?” Of course she imagined him as Jesus.

“Ooh I hope not,” he says with a nervous look, “that’d be lousy timing.”

“The lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Thuh-that he does—” A sudden inhale, a crooked arm rising at a much hastened speed. It begins in a manageable way, somewhat controlled, but then it seems to get away from him.

“Hh… hehd’SHHUE!”

“Bless you, Father."

He mumbles a thank you bookended by soft snuffling.

“Maybe he’s sent you a plague of sneezing. He does that sometimes doesn’t he? Send plagues?”

His face just scarcely conveys amusement before it’s hijacked again by the same expectant expression, but he still attempts to talk through it, even as irritation becomes evident in every feature. “S-sometimes…”

She thinks about saying bless you in advance but decides instead to just wait for him to succumb to it. A flicker of lashes, a reveal of the very tips of canines, his entire face crinkles around his visibly twitching nose. It pulls him downward and then forward in that order, as he collapses into a crooked arm as if stumbling despite being seated.

An especially desperate, “hehhSCHOO!” that begins quietly but certainly doesn’t end that way.

“God bless you, Father, again.”

“Wow,” he says with a sniff, knuckles swiping under his nose in a single smooth motion, “Maybe I’m allergic to you. My body’s having a reaction.”

“Is it?”

An eyeroll and a grin, and then he goes back to scratching at his aggravated face in a manner that’s becoming aggressive.

“Well stop manhandling your nose that’s clearly not working.” Before she can think better of it, she takes his elbow to pull the offending arm away from his face. She can feel his muscles tense with the movement, but when she looks up at him there’s only a blurry-eyed smile chased by a nervous huff of a laugh. Another line she can’t uncross but doesn’t particularly want to.

The therapist hadn’t needed to point out that her all-consuming attraction to someone she couldn’t have was probably a healthy coping mechanism of her recently adopted abstinence. She hadn’t really expected this though — for her advances to not be rejected entirely. She hadn’t planned for hope to cease feeling like such a daft, one-sided notion.

“Should I even be blessing you or is that overkill? Or am I even qualified to bless you? Can one bless a priest if they’re not like, anointed or something?”

“You can bless me,” he confirms, looking like he’s barely got a handle on controlling his own eyebrows. Or lips for that matter. God, that mouth, those lips. Parting by accident the way she’d like to make them open on purpose.

“Little greedy of you. You’re not blessed enough as is?”

“Neh—neverhurts…” He pitches sidewards with a slurred, tellingly tipsy, “hehh-ESHHyoooo!”

“Bless you…”

“Thank you,” he sniffles with embarrassed necessity, bringing the back of a sleeve to his nose.

“Hold on, I think I have some tissues,” she says as she feels around in her bag in the darkness, “Well, cocktail napkins at least.” Another knuckle brush as she hands them to him. How arousing. How pitifully arousing. She really should come up with ways to hand him things more often.

“Ahh you were holding out on me,” he says, and then after a gentle blow, “Sorry.”

“You are coming down with something aren’t you?"

He thinks about it, bringing the napkin away from his nostrils with a final follow-up dab. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Do you feel ill?”

“Mostly just very itchy.”

How many other chances will she get… She reaches a hand to gingerly press the back of her fingers against his forehead. He blinks a few times in response, rapidly and reflexively, and swallows back a smile. There’s a burning in her stomach that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Um, you feel okay I think?” She says, attention course-corrected back to the cigarette crumbling in her hand, but still glancing at him to measure the aftermath of the relatively bold gesture and they lock smiling eyes in the process.

If he really wanted to ward her off he’s doing a phenomenally shitty job of it. She knows he wants her. God if only that was enough, to know he wanted her.

“I think you’re right I’ve been sent a plague of sneezing. Probably trying to tell me something.”

“Something about how your new friend could take care of you?”

He grins with half of his mouth. “Or something about how I probably shouldn’t be drinking G&Ts in the middle of the night with my new friend who I like a little too much.”

Oh he… really shouldn’t have given her that.

“ExxSHHUE!!” He shakes the whole bench with this, then straightens back up, not looking entirely recovered, and says almost to himself, “And about how I probably shouldn’t tell my new friend that I like them a little too much.”

“But you did anyway and he hasn’t, I dunno, smote you down yet.”

Irritation is still etched into his features, his chest slowly swelling with air, hastily fiddling with the napkins.

“Are you actually going to sneeze again? You haven’t finished?”

He shakes his head as his eyes close and seizes into a rushed, “hehESHHyue!"

“It’s a plague I can’t stop! Snf, it’s out of my hands."

She knows the night’s over, she does. She gets the sense that she’d been invited to overstay her welcome, but it’s getting past that point now. Whenever she leaves after being around him her face hurts from smiling like an idiot the whole time and she comes away aching in more ways than one. That ache is starting already, another sign they’ve stretched this interaction too long once again.

However, alcohol. “If you tell me to leave and you sneeze again perhaps we’ll know whether or not it was divine intervention.”

“He might just be punishing me now anyway,” he sighs, remembering a cigarette he may not have taken a single drag from, neglected and foreshortening in his fingers.

“We haven’t done anything we’re just talking. I’m a—what is it, parishioner?”

“That is a word, yes. Snf! Though it implies someone who’s actually going to church to, you know, practice their faith."

“I’m a parishioner here to…” she’s not even sure what to say, she still doesn’t know shit about Catholicism aside from the fact that it’s a massive cockblock, “seek your… counsel? Guidance? Guidance counseling.”

He puts a hand over part of his face, tired but amused. “You can’t act innocent even when you’re trying your best, can you?"

She almost snorts. Is this what he thinks trying her best looks like?—No, don’t actually say— “Who said I was trying my best?”

Why can’t she stop herself from saying things like that to him? The only thing that’s going to stop her now is a ‘no’ that’s actually firm enough not to give way when she presses against it relentlessly. He honestly needs to just get it over with before he really gives her too much to hold onto. She’s not going to win out over God, the guy’s pretty fucking stiff competition.

Goddamnit, just break her heart already, what the fuck is he waiting for? This should have ended ages ago, and now it’s getting dangerously close to too late.

Was it unfair to assume he’d be stronger than her? Or is he trying to hurt himself too? A duetted exercise in masochism, mutually assured destruc—

“—ESSHHYUE!” He looks at her through wet lashes, bleary and sheepish and drunk and cute and fuck.

She sighs loudly, looks skyward and says, “Right, you’ve made your point! I’m leaving!”

#am i going to include the forehead feeling trope in every fic I ever write? ur goddamn right I am #to be fair I resisted the heightened temperature temptation aaand he’s not technically sick so I’m ‘doing something new’#I’ve done this platonic-but-not dynamic to death and I’ll 100% do it again in the future #i have absolutely no concept of how popular this show is or isn't #but hey hot priest is hot so here ya go #i am not even a little bit catholic but neither is fleabag so no research for meeeee #mongoose writes sometimes

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mydarlingvioletine · 5 years

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Just a Puppy Crush - Chapter 3

Ship(s): Violet/Clementine

Media: The Walking Dead Game (Season 4)

Violet stood nervously at the bottom of the steps leading to the porch, a gulp forming in her throat as she held tightly onto her backpack.

“Here goes nothing.” Violet took a deep breath, and walked up the stairs, the wood creaking under her feet from the weight.

She heard Louis and Clem’s voices before she even knocked on the door. It sounded like playful arguing, which was interrupted by a familiar and soothing voice. Mr. Everett. His voice was followed by a soft and raspy female’s voice, most likely Carley.

Violet raised her fist to knock on the door, it swinging open before she got the chance. Face to face with a shocked Clementine, Violet’s eyes widened and her breath got caught in her throat.

“Hey, there you are!” Clem exclaimed, throwing her arms around Violet’s shoulders, squeezing her arms to her sides. “I’m so happy you made it.”

Violet grinned at the contact, then looked over Clem’s curls to see Mr. Everett, a glint of.. something unrecognizable in his eyes. Carley was clinging onto his arm, a wide and genuine smile on her face. Violet cleared her throat and ducked her head, as Clementine stepped back, taking her pack from her hands.

“You must be Violet.” Carley broke the silence with a bright, almost blinding smile.

So that’s where Clem got it from.

“Here, let me take your bag. Karaoke machine is all set up, Lee’s gonna start working on the fire any minute now so you can make s’mores,” Carley cleated her throat, jabbing Lee lightly in the side for emphasis.

Once he feigned exhaustion and started towards the fire pit, Carley clasped her hands together, looking down happily at Violet.

“I’m gonna give your dad a hand with the fire,” Carley beamed at Louis, nudging him with her elbow. “Get it? A hand?”

“Very good, my grasshopper,” Louis chuckled, holding his forehead as if he had a headache. “You’ve definitely got a leg up on Clem.”

Clementine groaned, detaching her prosthetic leg to wack Louis in the chest. “Can’t believe you dragged my mom into this shit. Cmon, come look at the cake my uncle Omid made for me.”

Clem led them into the kitchen, and the fresh smell of pancake batter and bacon hit Violet like a pile of bricks. The pale yellow walls were barely visible under a bunch of family pictures, newspaper clippings, and post cards plastered on the wall.

Violet’s eyes landed on a picture that couldn’t have been more than a year or two old. It was Lee, with AJ hoisted up on his shoulder. AJ was cradling a gigantic trophy, which Clem was cupping her hands underneath, to make sure he didn’t drop it and shatter it. She figured Carley was taking the picture. They all looked so happy.

“My brother’s tournament,” Clem’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts, reeling her back into reality. “Last summer, we had to go on this super long road trip across the coastline. Stayed in all these fleabag motels, pretty much ate fast food for an entire month. I still get stomachaches sometimes.”

“Did you visit any beaches?” Violet asked, her eyes slowly taking in all of the decoration on the wall. Much more different than the minimalist style she had going on at her trailer. It was a lot more home-y.

“Yeah, whenever we could. God, it was so fucking fun... Oh, don’t bring that up in front of Carley though,” Clementine’s eyes twinkled with recognition as she giggled to herself. “She got burnt... so bad. Would hardly go outside for the rest of the summer.”

“Speaking of beaches and sun burn,” Louis interjected, looking down at his phone as a couple pings came through. “Brody’s gonna be here soon.”

Loud thumps from upstairs shook the house, leading down the staircase. Clem seemed unbothered, pulling the cake out of the fridge.

It was huge. Like a wedding cake. 3 layers of blue frosting, sides decorated with white and blue flowers, speckled with darker sprinkles. On the top of the cake was a candle in the shape of a C, for Clementine.

“I call first taste!” A young voice behind them interrupted, revealing the young boy in all the pictures. He dragged the chair to the table in what seemed like seconds, but Clem’s reflexes were quick enough to grab him before he got to the cake.

“AJ, we’re gonna have it later, okay?” Clementine held the sulking kid under her arm with as much ease if he was a football. “This is my little brother, AJ. Kiddo, these are my friends Louis and Violet.”

“Ah, the famous Alvin Junior,” Louis knelt down to be eye level with the kid, who crossed his arms and looked past him, towards the cake. “Heard you got my buddy Marlon good.”

AJ’s expression softened for a moment, and Clem put her hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing it in reassurance. “He’s really sorry about that. AJ has a thing about people sneaking up behind him.”

Louis gave an understanding nod, before straightening his posture.

“Don’t ever do it.” AJ’s voice was raspy, clearly trying to be intimidating. It brought a smile to Violet’s face, reminding her of a younger version of herself.

“Loud and clear, little man.” Louis snorted to himself, his gaze turning towards Violet. “Vi, introduce yourself to the little lad.”

Violet’s face turned hot at the sudden shift of attention on her. She shakily outstretched her hand, a grinning Clem in the corner of her eye.

“I’m-“

“Violet,” The kid’s demeanor changed completely, dropping his crossed arms to his side. “Clem told me about you. We got chicken nuggets in the fridge for you.”

“We have chicken nuggets in the fridge for you,” Clem corrected, earning a soft nod from AJ, who’d gone back to doing the little hand stimming motion that she was so used to Tenn doing. “They’re dinosaur-shaped.”

The doorbell suddenly rang, and AJ booked it out of the kitchen and towards the door. Clem sighed before following behind him, shooting Violet and Louis an unreadable glance.

Louis took advantage of the privacy to swing his arm around his shorter best friend, grabbing Violet’s arm and spinning himself while she stiffly stood there, trying her best to keep her feet planted on the ground.

“Didja hear that? Karaoke, Vi!” Louis pressed, trying his best to dip himself without falling on his ass. “So, Bop to the Top or You’re the One That I Want? I call Sandy’s part, though.”

Violet snorted, shoving him away just as the soft, melodic tune that Brody’s voice carried out throughout the halls.

“Brody!” Violet practically threw herself into the arms of her auburn-haired friend, who was timidly taken aback, but returned the hug anyway. “Here, Brode’s got a much better voice than I do.” Violet had turned the tall, flustered girl around and nudged her towards Louis.

Brody’s smile turned bright as she and Louis started discussing all the possible duets they could do.

Violet turned back to Clementine, who was leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed as she looked down at the floorboards. Violet pressed herself up next to her, snapping Clem from her daze.

“You okay?” Violet asked, watching Clem as she fiddled with her hands, pushing back her cuticles.

“Yeah,” Clementine breathed out, a faint smile crossing her features. “It’s just... my brother. Not AJ, my older brother. He’s away at college and last time I talked to him, he said he wouldn’t miss my birthday for anything, but... Lee told me he and his boyfriend are going through a really bad breakup. I dunno, I’m just worried.”

Clementine took a picture frame that was lying on the kitchen table, and held it so Violet could see. Her finger landed on a tall, lanky kid, who was affectionately giving AJ and Clem noogies. He had brown, shaggy hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail. Clementine smiled down at the picture, her eyes welling up at the corners.

“Uhh... fuck.” Clementine put the picture back on the counter with more force than she meant to, knocking over a box of graham crackers. “Shit.”

Clem knelt down quickly, trying desperately to scoop up the broken graham crackers off the ground. Violet knelt down beside her and started helping out. Her brain short-circuited when she brushed hands with Clementine, but she quickly snapped out of it, dumping the cracker fragments into the trash.

“We have a couple other boxes, don’t worry.” Clem reassured her, opening the drawer parallel to her head to reveal a bunch of s’mores ingredients. “Thank you, Vi.”

Violet smiled at the girl in front of her, the light reflecting from the window above the sink illuminating the right half of her face. In the new contrast, she noticed a faint scar across Clementine’s nose, almost completely invisible in any other setting. The amount of visible freckles across her nose and cheeks multiplied in the light, like an intricate pattern or a constellation.

“Vi?” Clementine’s soft tone interrupted her musings, and Violet stepped back on impulse, hands instinctively returning to the pockets of her sweatshirt.

They both now noticed that Brody and Louis had left the kitchen, and were now sitting around the lit campfire with Lee and Carley. “Cmon,” Clem grabbed the boxes of graham crackers and held them to her chest, using her free hand to grab at the jumbo marshmallow bag.

Violet reached for the Hershey’s bar, following Clementine down the porch and towards the fire pit to join the others.

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg brody #redd writes #violentine #violetine

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sincerepositivethings · 4 years

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Issue 25 - Adam’s Best of 2019

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Last week I dubbed my dear friend Adam Maid "The King of Media." This is because nobody is more up to date on movies, books, music and TV than him. However, merely consuming all of that does not media royalty make. Thankfully, in addition to his vast audio/visual/textual diet, Adam also has impeccable taste. It only made sense to commission a top of 2019 list from him and share it with the world. Enjoy!

Hey, you know what was a pretty good year for pop culture? 2019. It would take forever to really get into everything I loved this year, so I'll try to contain it to just a top 15, so you can head into 2020 with the entertaining distractions you'll most certainly need. 1. Knives and Skin (movie) - A lot of people have been influenced by David Lynch, but few have been able to sublimate that influence into something as wholly new and exciting as Jennifer Reeder did with Knives and Skin. Even though it's set in a small town full of idiosyncratic weirdos (hello Twin Peaks) rocked by the disappearance of a teen girl (see previous parentheses), every scene/character/moment goes off in unexpected, surprising directions that make it one of the most original and daring films I've seen in years. Oh, and it's also sort of a musical? 2. Los Espookys (TV) - There's nothing that can't happen in the world of Los Espookys. A woman trapped in a world of mirrors? Sure. A water spirit obsessed with watching The King's Speech? Why not. Fred Armisen as a legendary parking valet? Yes. The show, co-created by SNL's Julio Torres and mostly set in Spanish, follows a group of friends in an undisclosed Latin American country bound by their love of horror and their business creating elaborate practical effects (you know, normal stuff like fake exorcisms to help the Church and tourist-trap sea monsters). It's delightful. 3. Normal People - Sally Rooney (book) - This is just Sally Rooney's second novel, but she has quickly established herself as one of the best writers of this generation. We see all of her young characters' strengths and weaknesses, how they fumble communication and collide into one another on the way to adulthood, through prose that is alive and absolutely precise. 4. Orville Peck - Pony (music) - So there's this guy. He's a country singer, but also kind of a punk, who wears a mask, has a sort of rockabilly-glam aesthetic, and his name's not really Orville Peck and no one actually knows who he is. It's a fun gimmick, but what keeps it from being style over substance is that the substance is really, really good. Sometimes haunting, sometimes straight-up rock, Pony is an album that will always instantly make you feel like you're on a highway at 4 AM. 5. The Righteous Gemstones (TV) - If Danny McBride and Jody Hill had just opted to make The Righteous Gemstones a straight parody of bloated southern megachurches and the large personalities who run them, it still would've been hilarious. But what they made is something much weirder and darker, with an Elmore Leonard novel's worth of blackmail, double-crossing, and actual intense stakes. It also gave us living legend Walton Goggins performing, and I'm being serious here, the song of the year. 6. Nilüfer Yanya - Miss Universe (music) - I listened to this album more than almost any other this year, and I still can't really decide how to describe it. Even in the course of a song she's able to somehow transition from sounding like late-period Sade to early 2000s indie rock and back again, stopping along the way to pick up and discard jazzy lounge, pop beats, heavy synths, and even spoken word. 7. Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir (book) - You're not going to find a more fun protagonist this year than Gideon Nav, the smartass, sword-wielding filth queen 2019 got but didn't deserve. I love the worldbuilding in this book, full of necromancers, puzzle box rooms, and massive creatures made of reanimated bones. 8. Midsommar (movie) - I saw this movie in theaters three times this year (and two of them were the 3-hour director's cut). I love it. It manages to be a weirdly funny, sun-drenched, folk horror breakup movie that's also about grief and healing, anchored by Florence Pugh giving one of the absolute best performances of the year. 9. Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest - Hanif Abdurraqib (book) - Nobody writes about music like Hanif Abdurraqib. His latest is part-biography of A Tribe Called Quest, part-autobiography through the lens of their work, part-love letter to a favorite group, part-larger reflection on race, culture, and music's role in helping a person find their place in the world. 10. Angel Olsen - All Mirrors (music) - Angel Olsen has been one of my favorite artists for nearly a decade, but this year/album felt like a leveling up in both her songwriting and aesthetic approach, bringing in a new layer of theatrical, bombastic strings coupled with an almost "Grand Dame of the Opry" stage persona that was thrilling to see evolve in real time. 11. Octet (theater) - Dave Malloy wrote one of the century's best musicals with Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812, so I had to check out his newest work at the Signature Theater here in New York (sorry, out-of-towners) that ran this past spring (sorry, New Yorkers). This piece was an eight-voice a cappella musical all focused around social media and its various detrimental effects, which, nope, I did not find relatable at all and was absolutely NOT devastated, I don't know who you've been talking to, uh uh. Anyway, a cast album is in production, so you're in luck! 12: What We Do in the Shadows (TV) - Was there a narrative need for a spinoff of the 2015 Taika Waititi movie of the same name? No. Did the show's creators find the develop a series that is both fully of that world/its humor and also stands completely on its own? A resounding yes. 13. The Last Black Man in San Francisco (movie) - I haven't stopped thinking about this movie for like six months. It's streaming on Amazon Prime now, so please just go watch it right now. (On the biggest screen you can. The cinematography is beautiful.) 14. Wilder Girls - Rory Power (book) - You simply have to hand it to a YA book with David Cronenberg-levels of body horror. You just do. Wilder Girls is set in an all-girls boarding school on a quarantined island, where everyone who isn't killed by a mysterious plague is left with some kind of physical transformation. But it's really the writing that sets it off: florid without being languid, poetic but also heart-pounding. 15. The National - I Am Easy to Find (music) - Somehow, almost two decades and eight albums in, The National keep finding new directions to push their music, and new ways for their lyrics to run you through with a knife. Yes, I am in my 30s. Ok, I know I said I'd cover my top 15, but there's a lot more I could get into and Ramsey's not here right now, so here's a quick rundown of some other great stuff you maybe haven't seen or have seen covered on other, better lists: Movies: The Farewell, Fast Color, Tigers Are Not Afraid, Parasite, High Flying Bird, Us, Booksmart Books: The Twisted Ones - T. Kingfisher, Orange World - Karen Russell, Fleishman Is in Trouble - Taffy Brodesser-Akner, Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland - Patrick Radden Keefe, Mostly Dead Things - Kristen Arnett TV: Russian Doll, Succession, Watchmen, Holy Moley, Fleabag, The Boys, Doom Patrol, I Think You Should Leave Music: James Blake - Assume Form, PUP - Morbid Stuff, Better Oblivion Community Center - s/t, Charly Bliss - Young Enough, The New Pornographers - In the Morse Code of Brake Lights, Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow

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nomorestupidangels · 4 years

Video

I decided to edit couples?? To a French song?? Who even AM I ??? Anyway been wanting to practice some style today, so I recreated some effects from @juledebaum on youtube (incredibly talented)! Hopefully a complete video soon? #fleabag #themagicians #queliot #themagiciansedit #fleabagedit #queliotedit https://www.instagram.com/p/B9M-C44IQZ8Lw2mCr8wPXvVAwB3PZenzX3LV-k0/?igshid=vpzpivcc6bf9

#fleabag #themagicians #queliot #themagiciansedit #fleabagedit #queliotedit

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frutinimotivational · 4 years

Text

2019

First things first, did you have a good year? - Yes. There were some hard moments, stress, heartbreak, sadness but it was more about finding and creating my best self, having amazing adventures, running, traveling, living.

How old did you turn this year? 26

Do you feel your age? I guess yes..

Did your appearance change in anyway? Oh yes. First i cut my hair short, than this fall i changed my hair colour from blonde to copper red.

Post your favorite selfie.

If you traveled, where did you go? Istanbul, Turkey and Budapest, Hungary.

Which fashion trends did you love? I loved long and flowy summer skirt and dresses.

Which fashion trends did you hate? i guess none.

What was your favorite article of clothing this year? Post a pic if possible? My white long skirt, ripped jeans, red coat.

What song sums up this year for you? Anything form Ariana Grande cause i have been listening to her music a lot.

What album came out and has been on heavy rotation since then?

What was your favorite movie of the year? - Harry Styles - Fine Line.

Did an actor/actress catch your attention for the first time this year? Timothée Chalamet

Favorite new TV show? Fleabag

Which new ship/fandom has taken over a lot of your time, attention, and tears? none

What food did you try for the first time? i have no idea what is the english name but it is a sweet desert made from potatoes

Did you make any big permanent changes this year? A lot

What was one nice thing you did for someone else? I took my mum on a weekend trip.

What was one nice thing you did for yourself? I started running regularly

Did you develop a new obsession? YES running <3

Did you vote? yes

Did you move? no

Did you get a job? not a job really, but i started my medical specialization

Did you get a pet? YES, sweet sweet doggo Marley Marchello

Do you regret not doing anything? I regret making myself small for other people, not saying what i need and i what i want when i had to.

Do you regret doing something? No.

Have you done anything that scared you? A lot of things. I went on my first hike all alone with hiking group. I ran a half marathon. I ran a trail run all alone. I started doing a practice in a really fancy private hospital and i was shitting my pants everyday.

Did anyone/thing make you so mad it stayed with you for days? oh yes

Did you lose anyone close to you? Yes

Did you fall in love? with me and life

Did you fall out of love? yes

Did you start a new relationship? no

Did you go through a break up? yes

Did you have to cut ties to someone? yes

Who was important to you this year but wasn’t important last year? Few people actually, and remembering that makes me realize that everything passes.

Who wasn’t as important to you this year as they were last year? I would like to say my ex, but that would be lying to myself. Right now he is not important to me. But he was for a long time this year

If you could have a do over on one thing you did, would you take it? No.

What was the best moment of the year for you? A lot of beautiful moments

What was the worst? getting dumped via text hahah it was funny though

Did anything happen that you were sure would change you as a person but it really didn’t? I dont know

Did anything happen to you that you were sure wouldn’t change you as a person but it did? Hiking, running, starting a pediatrics specialization

What are you most proud of accomplishing? Running a half marathon

What have you learned about yourself this year that you didn’t know in the years prior? I am strong af, brave and a a badass.

Did your opinion of anyone change for the better? yes

Did your opinion of anyone change for worse? yes yes

If you make resolutions, did you complete them this year? i did, a lot of them actually

If you make resolutions, what will your resolutions be for the coming year? Running more races, hiking and traveling more, start saving money, build better relationships, learn more!

If you could go on an adventure during the remaining days of the year, where would you go and what would you do? Who would you go this? I dont have any wishes right now honestly

What do you wish for others for the coming year? Love, calmness and happiness

What do you wish for yourself? Same

#personal

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