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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months

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hey girlie it’s me asking for that football player choso x nerd reader smut who offers to tutor him😉

I had so many ideas for this but in the end, I wanted to write him as a whimpering mess corrupted by reader!!

☆*: .｡.Summary .｡.:*☆

Choso is a star athlete who's still virgin- and has no clue about sex. Not a shocker that he's also failing anatomy, which is where you come in to help. What better way to teach him than hands-on ;)

Word count: 1.8k

SFW/NSFW

Pairing: Dumb Jock!Choso x Tutor!Reader

He’s not what you expected.

Choso sits beside you with a quiet nod, fidgeting with his fingers as you pull out a textbook. The two of you had met through your teacher, both of you in the Anatomy class your college offered. You were the one of the students with the highest grade, he was the student with the lowest. You had actually been given an academic accomplishment aware the day you met him in your teacher’s office. He was just as quiet then as he is now, eyes down as if they weren’t up when he was on the field a few days before. What he lacked in book smarts he made up for during games. Thanks to him, your college was going to the College Cup. Maybe if you brought that up you could get him to talk.

“So…congrats.”

“On?” His voice is a rasp, barely above a whisper.

“On all the wins, I've gone to a few games. You’re incredible.” You smile softly and his cheeks flush pink. Cute, you didn’t expect someone so popular to be so bashful.

“T-Thank you.” He sinks in his seat a little, eyes on his lap. He’s used to compliments but they sound different coming from you. “Congrats to you too, on the award I mean. You’re really smart, I wish I was.”

“Thanks, and you are.” You put your hands on his, squeezing them gently. “Sometimes your brain just needs a bit of help.”

“Then I’m glad I have someone like you to help me.” Damn that smile, it’s like his face is as bright as the sun.

He’s a fast learner, clinging to every word that leaves your lips. You catch him staring at them but before you can ask, he jerks his red face away. Weird. He’s acting like he’s never been this close to a girl before, like a first grader on valentines day. You laugh quietly at the thought, there’s no way you’re the first girl he’s been around. He’s handsome, small eyes and thin dark brows with jet black hair cascading down his shoulders. There’s a mark on his face that drags across his nose, maybe a scar from football. You try not to look at it much, but it’s the only blemish you’ve found on his face.

“Y/N, what’s a clit?” He curiously looks at you, pointing to words on the page. How’d he even get that far?! You zone out for five seconds and he’s read through ten chapters! “It seems kind of useless.”

“Useless? It’s literally the best thing to play-” Your face burns and you quickly close your mouth. “Let’s just flip back the chapter before, okay?”

“Is it something weird? Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just surprised-” You move your hands from his to your lap, “-You’ve never…?”

“Never what?” God, he can’t even finish the sentence. Did his parents never give him the talk? He was the same age as you, he had to at least know something but the way he looked at you was so curious and oblivious.

“Choso, are you a virgin?” Normally, you’d think the question was too pervasive but how else were you supposed to ask it?!

“What’s a virgin?”

“Have you ever had sex?” Your voice is a whisper, the library quiet enough for it to seem like a shout. “Hooked up with someone?”

“No, I thought people only did that to make babies.” He says it so casually, shrugging a little. “Why else would someone do that?”

“For fun.”

“...Fun?”

Choso’s never thought of it that way, he’s never really had to. Unlike his peers, when puberty hit him he didn’t run to release it. He kept to himself, focused on sports like his father wanted and grades like his mother pleaded. He had always been well behaved, not an ounce of rebellion in him. College had introduced him to new things like Alcohol and porn, but he wasn’t that into any of it honestly.

“Is something wrong with me?” His shoulders slump, tears in his eyes. His football friends always talked about doing it but he hadn’t really thought much about it until now. “Am I supposed to have done it?”

“No! It’s up to you when you’re ready to!” You scramble to comfort him, cupping his face and smiling. “You’re the one who gets to decide. I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s totally normal to not have done it yet.”

“How do I know when I’m ready to do it?” He says in between sniffles.

“Well, when you like and trust someone enough I guess.” You shrug, “I don’t even really remember my first time. I was pretty young and the guy was one of my first boyfriends. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal…” He repeats.

You finish studying a few hours later, leaving the library side by side. He’s quiet, eyebrows furrowed and focused on the sidewalk. You give him a gentle nudge and he jumps, apologizing frantically for zoning out. Cute, you didn’t mean to call him it out loud but it slipped out. His face reddens and he thanks you, hands in his pockets as his thoughts churn. Whenever he’s ready? With someone he likes? What if he’s just curious? Is it okay to do it then?

“Y/N?”

“What’s up?” You glance up from your phone.

“Can we…do it?”

And that was how he ended up where he is now, whimpering and sobbing under you as you slam down on his bare shaft. Tight, so tight, it feels like there’s a rubber-band around his cock. Your hands are planted down on his chest, groping it as you suck up every sound that dares to leave his mouth. He’s drooling, head thrown back as his fingers dig into your thighs. Soft, it’s like squeezing a pillow. Weightless, he feels like he’s floating, mind numb as you bounce up and down on his cock. He’s never felt so hot, like he’s going to melt away when you clench around him. He cries out, cock jolting inside of you before spurting a sticky load. You don’t stop, you don’t give him time to recover. His neck is covered in dark red and purple marks left by your mouth, barely any of his pale skin left untouched. Your glasses hang from the bridge of your nose, button-up only halfway buttoned, leaving your bra and breasts exposed. Your room is humid, air thick with the scent of sex.

“What would your parents think, hm?” You taunt, tongue tracing the scar on his nose as he shudders. “Their precious little son, filling up a woman he met only a few hours ago.”

“Y/N, ‘m sorry, I‘m sorry~” His voice is a choked sob, eyes rolled back as he cums again. So he likes being degraded? You can do that. “Please, please, please~”

“Please what? You wanted to ‘do it’ remember?” You slowly stop, sliding his cock out until his tip is nestled in your cunt. “You came crawling to my apartment tonight in nothing but gray sweats and a tight compression shirt like you didn’t think I’d get turned on from that.”

“Y/N~” He cries out when you sit back down, sending his cock back into your warmth. You’re kissing him again, devouring his lips with yours as you grind. His legs are starting to feel numb, vision blurring as his mind fogs. How many times has he came now? At least ten.

“C’mon Choso, don’t go stupid on me.” You coo as if you aren’t crushing his cock between your walls, “Does it really feel that good?”

“Mhm~ good…more…” He can’t think straight, can barely speak. He lets out a sweet little strangled scream when you pin his hands above his head and speed up, “Anngh~!”

You’ve been trying to ignore your building orgasm but if he keeps making those cute sounds you’re going to lose it. His body is so honest, hips arching to meet yours and tongue hanging from his mouth whenever you lean down. God, those eyes are so pretty rolled back. Sweat glistens on his muscles, especially his plump chest and those pink inverted nipples. You want to swallow him whole, suck his soul from his body. You’ll do that next, you’ll take his cock into your mouth and slurp it until it sprays clear shots. Your filthy thoughts are interrupted by your orgasm, pleasure popping in every nerve when his cock hits your spot. You moan into his mouth, his eyes closing as another load spills into you.

“Choso?” You poke him, panting. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s passed out, “Choso!”

“Wet…’s wet…” Is all he manages to mumble, in and out of consciousness.

You laugh breathlessly, slowly getting up to get a washcloth. The cocktail of your fluids string between the two of you, his milky semen dripping from your pussy. You stumble into the bathroom, legs shaking and knees sore. He stretched you out good, thick cock rubbed your walls smooth. You hop in the shower, washing away the stench of sex before going back to your bedroom. He’s still fast asleep, snoring softly and body sticky. You gently shake him away and smirk when his snores turn into low grumbles.

“Hurts…” He winces when you pull him up, his arm on your shoulder as you lead him to the shower.

Your hands are delicate now, wiping him down as he sleeps in the tub. His eyelashes flutter every so often, eyes peeking open as if he thinks you’ll leave him. You kiss his forehead, whispering praises before helping him back to bed. He lays his head on your lap, nose between your thighs. You gasp when he parts them, hazy eyes looking up at you hungrily.

“C-Choso, what are you- ohmygod~!”

“Wan’ taste.” Is all he says before slurping between your folds. Your scent had woken him and his cock up.

Your hands tangle in his wet hair as he gulps down every drop from your cunt. His tongue is merciless, digging inside of you until his nose is buried into your pussy. You moan, rocking against his face. You push his head down, back arching when his mouth moves to your clit.

“You said this was the best to play with…” He flicks his tongue against it and you muffle your cry with your palms.

You’re sweet, sticking to his tongue. He sucks your clit while looking up at you so innocently, as if he doesn’t have a face full of pussy. How the hell was a virgin eating you out so expertly? He twisted and curled his tongue inside of you, grunting when you tugged his hair. Good, so damn good, fuck you just want to push him back to ride his face. A low buzz fills your fuzzy mind and before you know it you’re unraveling in front of him, pussy twitching and spasming around his mouth as you arch into his ministrations. You slump against your bed frame, thighs trembling as you come down from your orgasm.

“Y/N, I learned a lot tonight.” He whispers with a soft smile, kissing your clit. “Thank you.”

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#wink writes 💗#choso jjk #choso jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk fanfic #choso #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso smut #kamo choso #choso kamo smut #chousou #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk

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wayfayrr · 7 months

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This is based on @sketchyspook's Mask - the hero of terminal! he's a lil gremlin who in this decided to pull a sky and break out of his game. He just wants a sibling though so can you blame him?

“Hey we were thinking about going out tonight [name], you want to join us?”

“Nah, I’ll be honest I was planning to stay in tonight. Just want a rest you know, got some old games I’ve been planning to replay.” “Fair, if I hadn’t promised someone I’d join them I’d probably be doing the same. See you around sometime [name].”

After how hectic everything has been recently it’ll be nice to have a night in where I can just zone out and do next to nothing; really what better way is there to do that than by playing through Majora’s mask for the, what 50th time? It’s such a nostalgic game to me that it can’t be anything other than my go-to relaxing game. Besides that though, really it’s just fun to fish using the fierce deity mask. Something about an ancient war god going fishing like that? It’s a fun break from the rest of the game.

Something feels different this time though. I can’t quite pinpoint what but even the opening cutscene feels different. There’s more static than there should be, it just feels wrong. There’s also this feeling, I’m probably just being paranoid, but I swear someone’s watching me. Judging me even. Like they’re trying to evaluate me for something, I just can’t tell what. It’s nothing I’m sure. Just need to shake it off and carry on playing.

Saving it after getting the deity mask feels like a good point to leave it off for the evening, how long have I even been playing? I could’ve sworn it wasn’t that long but - It’s past 2?? It’s never taken me this long to get to this point before, maybe it’s been glitching way more than I thought. I mean it felt like every few minutes I lost control over Link, oddly enough it was only when his model was facing the screen. My controller must just be acting up, I knew buying the cheapest one on eBay would’ve been a bad idea, of course, it’s gonna have some issues. Just turn off the game and go to bed, it’s that easy [name]. Your bed’s comfortable anyway, you’ll fall asleep in no time.

What’s that sound? It’s barely enough to wake me up, am I hearing things? What’s gotten into you tonight [name], first being paranoid while playing, now hearing things? Am I coming down with something? Just try to go back to sleep and deal with this in the morning.

Okay, I can’t just be feeling things now, did something fall on me during the night?

No, it feels far too much like a person, but then who is lying on me? And how did they get here? Opening my eyes to a blonde kid who looks suspiciously like Link doesn’t feel quite real, maybe I’m still asleep and something fell on me and affected my dream? Oh, what am I kidding myself? I’m awake. I’ll just try to gently wake him up to get some answers, if he doesn’t wake up then at least I can move him so I can get a look at just how he got here.

“Bewegen Sie mich nicht, ich fühle mich hier wohl.”

So he didn’t like that then, my german is rusty but even then it’s clear enough what he meant by how he’s trying to get closer to me in his half-asleep state. He’s going to be staying right where he is for as long as he can get away with it. All I can hope for in the meantime is to try and find out he got in here without moving. There isn’t any broken glass or windows so he didn’t get in that way, it would be insane for a kid to break in just for hugs as well so that rules out that possibility.

There is broken glass though… by my laptop… what?Of all the - my laptop is shattered. How did that - did he? My laptop is broken and there is a game character in my arms, that has to be related, doesn't it?

There are tiny cuts and fresh burns on his arms, ones that look like they could be - did he?

That would explain how my laptop broke. There are more questions from that though. Such as how did a video game character get out of my laptop and into my arms?? And why? Answers aren’t going to show themselves and theres only one person who knows why he did this.

“Kid? I know you don’t want to move, but can you tell me what’s going on? How you got here at least?” That seems to have woken him up a little, enough for him to look at me now even though he looks very bitter he’s had to move. Now that I’m getting a better look at his face though, he’s certainly link but he looks a little different to how he does in the game. White streaks in the front of his hair, paler eyes and far too many scars for someone his age. It’s like he’s picked up traits of the fierce deity mask, you know what if he’s here in my room real like this why couldn’t he look different from in game?

“Ich kann, ich tue es nicht - I don’t want to be in the game any more, so I got out.”

“Can I ask how you got out?”

Alright no answer for that besides a quick look at his hair, must be a sore point for him. I won’t press him on that until he feels more alright to talk about it.

“Is there any reason you wanted to well, be like this link?”

With a gesture to how he’s decided to lay on me, he has at least a little bit of shame as he looks away from me before mumbling something just loud enough that I could hear.

“After you playing through it for so long, you uh, you feel like an older sibling to me. So I’ll stay here with you [name]?”

It’s either he can stay with me or he’ll go out to the street, not that I have the heart to throw him out, after everything I know he’s been through. That I’m partly responsible for putting him through? If I didn’t play his game, he - he wouldn’t have had to go through that would he. It’s my fault.

“[name]? You aren’t upset at me are you? I didn’t - I didn’t mean to make you cry, I can - Nun, ich denke, ich kann - if you don’t want me here I can go back.”

“No I don’t - of course I don’t think that. I’m sorry link, I made you keep reliving all of that. I never even knew that you were - oh god I’m so sorry link.”

He paused at that to think things over for a second, most likely about to say something although I can’t tell what from his body language. Is he crying now? Shaking slightly while leaning towards me like he wants a hug, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was crying after everythin-

“AUGH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?”

“You wouldn’t stop crying because you were blaming yourself for ‘hurting’ me. Now we’re even so you can stop crying about it.”

As much as I hate it he is right, somewhat, one single bite doesn’t exactly make up for everything that I put him through but I’m not going to say that aloud incase he bites me again. Inspecting my arm there is a neat mark from his teeth, kid’s got a strong jaw I’ll give him that.

“Alright [name] I’ve seen a few things of your world when you were playing, but um would you mind showing me what it’s like? You’re my big sibling now so I think that’s just what you have to do.”

“Oh about that, why do you see me as a sibling?”

A shrug with yet another glance at his hair like it holds the answer.

“I’m not the only one who sees you as my sibling, I know the deity has kinda unofficially adopted you as well.”

“Huh? The deity? Like the mask, the thing you use in game? Has adopted me?”

“Mhm, he’s the one who encouraged me to get out, it’s a little complicated but basically I wore the mask a bit too much.”

Just another thing I’ve done wrong then, or maybe not seeing as he seems to be fine with what is happening and the fact that it’s gotten him out of the game.

“You gonna explain what you mean by that?”

“Nah not yet, gotta come to terms with it myself as well before any of that.”

#hope he comes across as the lil shit he is <3 #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #mask gremlin child #platonic yandere #moss✦writes

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lunawings · 2 months

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While I was in Japan during March 2024, I was able to visit the Pretty Rhythm Rainbow Live 10th Anniversary Exhibit. This is my favorite anime of all time, so it was an incredible honor.

Unfortunately, you could not take pictures in many areas and I always try my best to be respectful and follow the rules. So, I will describe it.

The walls of the first room were covered in several tapestries depicting each individual episode of the anime, so you could reminisce about everything that happened as you slowly walked through the room. In the middle of the room, there were several exhibits perfectly recreating every single paper, notebook, sketch...

Hokkaido itinerary? Wakana and Bell's test scores? Momo's Happy Rain costume sketches? Naru and Bell's manager applications? The score to pride? Any piece of paper you can think of that appeared in PRRL, it was all HERE! Recreated with meticulous accuracy...

The next room was the photo room where you could take pictures in Prism Stone or in front of Rinne's feathers.

Something else they had here which was really neat, was all of these mini photo ops of various scenes from the anime that you could put your plushies or figures into! As I rarely have someone with me to take photos of myself at events like this, and I rarely post them even when I do, NGL I loved it. I wish I had brought something! I did have a PAF Naru on my bag I could have used, but it would have taken time to unpin her so unfortunetly I did not.

The next room contained an exhibit of various merch from throughout the years.

Unfortunately, there wasn't really much merch to look at in the classic section. Just the guitars, some stones, and the Smart Pod Shot. But I definitely think there was more than that back in the day! There has to have been because I own at least one thing that was not in here (a pool bag) haha!

They also had a REAL prism guitar on display, which apparently they are actually going to sell at some point!?

The last part of the exhibit before going to the gift shop, was a hallway with messages from all the voice actresses and the director. This was also a zone where photos were banned, but I remember in the director's he acknowledged Rainbow Live as being the only Pretty Rhythm season to achieve a 10th anniversary celebration and ended his commentary with "Glorious Pretty Rhythm" hahaha. Next was the gift shop...

Which was honestly super disappointing... I was prepared to spend a lot of money here, but in the end, I barely bought anything. Everything, EVERYTHING good was blind and the stuff that wasn't was just so expensive.

Like, they had this set of Hiro cards with his magazine covers and debut poster and I really wanted them but when I actually saw them it was like... 2,000 yen? FOR THREE CARDS!? Those tiny little cards you can see up there below the keychains?

????????????

Am I missing something!?

In the end I bought two Wakana boards and two clear files. And the one blind thing I couldn't resist was the Prism Stone badges... which turned out to be Otoha x2 and one Ann. Gah.

I also might have bought a Wakana plush doll, but she was sold out. Out of all the Rainbow Live girls she was the only one sold out both here and at Tokyo Station Prism Stone.

And here were the bonuses I got. Including, yes, the AiPri card. So for people who saw me posting it over on @pretty-idol-hell, this was where it came from.

I also got a very special letter, which I am saving to translate at a later date...

Outside the event was an up and running Pretty Rhythm machine, or so I thought. Wow, no line! I said to myself as I happily bounced up to it only to find the coin slot taped over and a sign reading it could not be used. Darn. (I know there's no prism stones left in the wild, but come on, there's no free play mode...? Well, I guess even if there was they wouldn't want people loitering around the exhibition.)

Anyway, as you read I did have a few complaints, but it still makes my heart happy that this event existed at all. I loved all the time and effort that went into making all the recreations of things!

#pretty rhythm #prrl #pretty rhythm rainbow live

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margowritesthings · 1 year

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ROMEO AND JULIET: I

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬, 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲…

series masterpost

pairing: low honour!Arthur Morgan x O'Driscoll!reader (f) word count: 4253 words warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexually explicit, low honour Arthur, rough sex, fingering (r receiving), blood play, knife play, touch of cnc, dirty talk, degradation, enemies while lovers authors note: here it is! the first chapter of my most requested, most talked about series. I'm so excited for this one, y'all. I really pushed myself out of my comfort zone and wrote some absolute filth. I hope you enjoy the first official instalment of Romeo and Juliet! update - this is a reupload after the orignal didnt show up in tags! taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes

It’s always astounded you, the way those warm orbs of light hang over the streets, glowing bright no matter the time of night. Saint Denis is a city that never seems to truly sleep. There’s always some lady of the night stalking her prey, some street urchins playing in the street no matter how high the moon, or, in the case of tonight, a shadowed outlaw sneaking through the hidden alleys and veins of the town. Arthur Morgan, enforcer and right hand man of the infamous Van der Linde gang.

It’s not the first time you’ve been assigned a job like this, following Morgan around gathering scraps of whatever intel he’s collecting at the time to get a head start on any jobs around. You’re by far the stealthiest of the O’Driscolls and Colm knows that, hence why you get sent out every time. This time, you’re pretty sure it’s a home robbery in one of the apartments atop a store in the city. Arthur has been scoping the same building out for the last 10 minutes, making circles with the turns in the streets and alleys he takes.

You’re always 10 steps behind him, so used to the skill of following someone through their shadows that it comes naturally to you. You’re so light on your feet that your boots hardly make a sound against the cobblestone streets. Currently, your fingers clutch at the corner of a brick wall as you peer around a bend, watching Arthur make that face you’ve learnt over time means he’s got something. Despite the fact the two of you have never actually spoken a positive word towards one another, you know far too much about each and every little mannerism Arthur has for your liking, but when his lip twitches at the corners, you know he’s pleased with himself. You hate that you know it, but you just goddamn do.

Thinking about it, you hate a hell of a lot about the Van Der Linde. You hate that he’s there at every turn, with his cocky smirk and that drawl. You hate the way that every time you get one up on him, the next time he’s right there giving it back. You hate his stupid fucking smirk and the way he outsmarts your idiot family every damn time. Most of all, you hate that every time you cross paths, he lingers in your mind, hidden in the darkest shadows until it’s the dead of night and it’s just you, all by yourself in your tent.

…anyway.

Fuck Arthur Fucking Morgan. And his stupid goddamn shit-eating grin.

Following his eyeline, you can see what he’s grinning at: it’s a back entrance, with a rusty old ladder just barely clinging to the bricks of the building. It would be all too easy to follow Arthur in and attempt to get to the loot before him, but why expend the effort when you can let him do all the work and pickpocket him on his way out? It’s the perfect plan, or it would be if Arthur hadn’t disappeared in the few seconds you spent looking over the ladder. Where you were watching is now completely deserted, the street lamps casting orange-hued light and striking shadows over the backs of the stores and apartments. Arthur is nowhere to be seen and your brows pull together with the strongest confusion. The ladder remains untouched, home un-looted and yet Morgan is gone?

Your voice is barely audible as you whisper to yourself, “What in the-”

You’re cut off as metal cooled by the night air is pressed firmly against the tendons in your throat, to the point where swallowing might just break the skin. Your breath hitches in your chest when you feel a hard, large body press against your back, an arm snaking around your waist to keep you firmly in place. The sharpness of the weapon is so evident, you daren’t breathe.

“Now now, just what do we have here? A little stray who lost her way…” Arthur’s voice rumbles in his chest, low and throaty as his breath dances right on your ear. He’s so close, pressing the knife into your windpipe so that the only relief you can get comes from pushing your back further into him. It’s near impossible to think as you feel the outline of his cock against your ass, but you have to, because there’s literally a knife to your throat. And it’s Arthur Morgan and his cock should not matter.

“Get the fuck off me, Morgan.” You hiss, voice restrained by not wanting to move your neck too much.

“Not a chance, O’Driscoll. Just what do you think you’re doin’, followin’ me like this? Can’t get your own leads?” He’s speaking through gritted teeth, the whiskey on his breath intoxicating your senses.

“I ain’t- argh!” A sharp pain shoots up your neck as the very tip of the knife knicks your skin.

“Don’t lie. Or it’ll get worse. What’s your plan, little stray? Gonna jump me? Stab me from behind, kill me in the shadows like the rest of your backward coward cousins?”

Your eyes roll with the low blow. You’re so much better than your idiot cousins in every way and Arthur damn well knows that. He knows you’re the only one to match him, the only one he ends up head to head in heated, spitting arguments because you’re the one who can keep up. He also knows how much it makes you seethe to be compared to the bastards.

Your movements are quick, as to not have your neck slashed open, but somehow you manage to whack Arthur in the stomach with your elbow. The second plays out like an hour when you spin out from under his vice-like grip and manage to grasp your own hunting knife. It’s jabbed into Arthur’s side, but not before he can push his arm into your chest and pin you to the wall, his knife back on your neck.

Now, your chest is heaving against Arthur’s, the cold brick of the wall cooling your flushed back. It seems to have taken both of you considerable effort to dance around each other and end up like this, as you’re both fighting for breath. A defiant fire burns in your eyes as you look up at him, refusing to be the first to move or break this stalemate. Your knife presses firmer to Arthur’s side as the blade on your neck actually starts to steam.

“You know full well I don’t need to get you from behind, Morgan.” You spit, trying not to let Arthur’s distinct scent, that one that haunts you when you’re all alone, distract you. Instead you focus on the sensation of the sharp tip of Arthur’s hunting knife threatening to rip your skin again. This time, you barely flinch, not even breaking eye contact with the knife’s owner as it nicks you again. The cockiest smirk tugs on Arthur’s stubbled lip as his free hand reaches up to caress the origin of the sting.

“Oh, sure, you’re doin’ just great right now, princess…” A shiver rushes through your veins and runs down your spine when Arthur’s calloused finger swipes across your neck, spreading bright red blood in a line across the tendons. He brings the finger to his mouth, sucking the crimson clean off in one smooth movement. He actually moans, low and deep and you swear you can feel it in your cunt. The tiny cuts burn, but not as much as the scorched, invisible gash Arthur has left on you with his mere touch.

You can’t buckle, can’t for even a second rely on anybody else to keep you upright, especially not the enforcer of the gang your entire family practically devote themselves to the ruining of. So you put all your focus into not thinking about the heat pooling between your legs again, and you try to keep the strength in your limbs. It’s near impossible when he leans right into you, his lips a hair away from the lobe of your ear.

“Twice now I could’ve killed ya’. Slit that pretty little throat and watched the life drain from those big doe eyes… You’re losin’ your touch, little stray…” His breath on your skin is too much and you feel your instincts turning your head, but you can’t tell if it’s to get away from him or to further expose yourself. God, you hope it's the former. You’re terrified it’s the latter.

The cool metal is pulled away from your flushed skin, instead replaced by Arthur’s huge palm wrapping around your neck, his fingers winding upwards to cup your jaw and force your glare back to him. Arthur dips his head to the tiny patch of skin between your ear and jaw not covered by his grasp and, god help you, he sniffs. You can hear the growl catch in his throat as you do so and it takes everything you have to keep the gasp in your mouth. So much so that the grip around your knife falters, even if just for a second, letting the blade go slack against Arthur’s jet black shirt.

He chuckles, forcing you to realise your mistake and rectify it with an even stronger hold, “See? I bet I could have that knife clanging on these cobblestones before anybody would ever know we’re here…”

…oh?

Your pulse is pounding against Arthur’s palm and you’re sure he can feel it’s quickening as you realise exactly where this is going. It screams your true thoughts, those carnal, forbidden desires out to Arthur despite the demeanour of resistance you’re so desperately managing to cling onto. Your pulse is pounding in other places, too, and it’s making it ridiculously difficult to stay focused.

Your jaw opens and closes helplessly, mind racing to find a smug enough quip to rival Arthur’s annoyingly quick wit. You’re coming up empty, having to put all your energy into not collapsing into his weight and letting him have his way with you. Arthur’s thumb creeps up your jaw to caress your cheek, kneading the reddening flesh with a tenderness that juxtaposes everything about this moment. The fury burning in your stare, the hatred engrained in years of butting heads and foiled jobs and venomous words spat at each other. For as long as you’ve known of Arthur Morgan, he has kept this fire burning in you. It’s the anger, it’s the fury and the hatred and the venom and the tension… and…

And fuck if you’re not about to shatter at the hands of this man.

You’re squirming under Arthur’s grip, your legs starting to feel like jelly as his intense stare burns at your skin like glass on an ant. You don’t know when it becomes inevitable, maybe it’s when your lips part for his thumb to run over the bottom one, or maybe it’s when your tongue darts out to lick his pad, or maybe it’s when he smirks at you, dipping right next to your lobe and taking it between your teeth. It doesn’t matter when it becomes inevitable, only that it does. And oh, god, does it.

You’re both wordless, the sounds of the people of Saint Denis existing around you and two hot, panting breaths the only disruption from an otherwise silent air.

The knife returns to poke your cheek, leaving the faintest trace of your own blood on your skin as Arthur pulls the blade down your neck, chest and stomach. It’s featherlight, almost tickling until it reaches the crotch of your jeans and another gasp gets caught in your throat.

A single seam rips open.

With it, the smallest sound of the knife slicing the cotton becomes the loudest noise you’ve ever heard in your life. Arthur’s brow raises, and you hate that he gives you this second to back out. Even more so, you detest that you can’t seem to bring yourself to do it.

Arthur’s hand clamped on your throat, his knife physically warming at the heat he’s creating right between your legs, you mirror his expression, knowing speaking these three little words will be your undoing.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

There are two things you know about Arthur Morgan with absolute certainty: he never backs down from a challenge and he’s the out-and-out last person you should trust.

…so why does your composure never once falter as Arthur cuts the crotch of your jeans clean open in one swift, expert movement?

Each individual stitch tears effortlessly against the edge of the metal and you finally allow that gasp to escape you. The cold night air seeps through and clings to the wetness starting to soak the cotton of your underwear and you can feel the most furious blush alighting your skin. You’ve never felt so exposed, emotionally, as Arthur feels just how wet you are for him with a drag of his index finger up your covered slit, and physically, as he hooks said finger into the band of your panties, ripping them open effortlessly. At this, your cunt clenches around nothing and you have to stop yourself from crying out. You can’t lose your composure, won’t let him win even if you’re all but dripping down your own leg.

“Tsk tsk… All this for me, hm? I don’t think Uncle Colm would be all too happy to see what a mess you are for mean old Arthur Morgan…” He’s sneering, his teasing too much to bear, especially when considering both the angel and the devil sitting on your shoulders telling you to get the fuck out of here and definitely not-

“Are you gonna shut the fuck up and-”

You’re rendered unable to finish your demand, struggled out through Arthur’s grip, when two long, thick fingers plunge into your cunt and curl up inside you. You cry out, a strangled, pathetic sound before Arthur lets go of your throat and clamps a hand over your mouth instead. The rush of blood returning to your head sends you dizzy, mixing with the intensity of Arthur’s fingers oh so deep inside you to the point where it’s difficult to form coherent thoughts.

Good. Coherent thoughts are not what you need right now, for they would tell you that this is the worst decision you could possibly make right now and/or ever and you really don’t think you could make yourself stop right now.

You coil tighter and tighter each time Arthur pumps into you, trying in vain to stop the whines that vibrate the outlaw’s palm against your lips. You’ve never climaxed without some sort of clit stimulation, but you’ve also never been handled so… expertly. Arthur somehow knows you, inside and out as he pulls you right to the edge, pushing his fingers in as deep as they can go and tickling your walls with a come hither motion. In that moment, you’re sure you’d follow him to the ends of the earth… even if you’d shoot him there afterwards.

Your own weapon is still tightly fisted in your grip, still pressing against Arthur’s side because you cannot lose this bet, despite the fact that you’re seconds away from cumming all over one of his hands and have your jaw clamped into the flesh of the other. You’re watching him, seeing the ever so slight concentration tugging his brows together a little before his blue-green eyes, darkened by the shadows to the point of near-blackness, meet yours. It’s the most intense eye contact you’ve ever experienced and it washes over you like ice water.

Your jaw hurts from the force Arthur is applying to it and you feel so full even from just his fingers and when you’re sure you can’t take any more stimulation else you might break into pieces, you feel another inch slide into you and that cold metal press against the hood of your clit.

Because of course he hasn’t put the knife down.

Fucking Arthur fucking Morgan.

The pressure and the sensation of the cold on your clit hangs you over the edge like a damned man awaiting the gallows, and there's an excruciating moment that drags out a lifetime before your whole body is wracked with white hot pleasure and red hot pain pulling you apart at both ends. The very tip of the knife pokes at your inner thigh exposed by the large rip in the denim of your pants, but you can’t stop your legs shaking and pushing together. Your skin breaks just as you reach your pinnacle and you feel both sensations everywhere. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, opposing forces at war in your very being, leaving splattered crimson on your leg and tear tracks on your cheeks.

You don’t even realise you’ve dropped the damn knife, the clatter echoing around the alleyway over your mewls and the downright obscene sounds of Arthur working your soaked cunt through your high, fingers pumping in and out of you.

It’s over with the force of a wave cresting and crashing. Blood rushing in your ears, you whimper when he slides his fingers out of you and follow his gaze downwards when he begins to chuckle again. He’s looking down at your knife, long discarded on the floor, and he’s smirking that smirk that makes you want to smack it right off his face.

Arthur’s eyes drag from your weapon back to you, raking them over your whole body as he releases his clamp on your mouth. Air rushes to fill your lungs and you stretch out your jaw to ease the ache. He looks so fucking smug, especially when he lifts his hand to his mouth, inserting the two fingers he just had inside you past his lips. When he removes them with a tiny pop, he holds his knife up to catch the nearby street lamp. The tip is scarlet, shimmering through sticky blood, but the blade itself is covered in your slick.

“Looks like I win…”

Fuck.

The regret is creeping around the corner, ready to set in and have you running down the street away from the man you hate most in the world, but just before it does, Arthur grasps your cheeks again, forcing your jaw open and squeezing until there’s no room in your mouth for your tongue and you have to stick it out. It trembles, suspended in the tiny space between you and Arthur until he lifts the blade and runs the smooth edge over the muscle. You taste the metallic tang of your own blood and the sweetness of your juices mixing together. It’s lewd and carnal and disgusting and so fucking hot you could just cum on the spot.

“Ah, see? You can be a good girl when you wanna be, can’t you? Cleanin’ up your mess…”

But you can’t. Not again, at least… You have to get out of here, away from this fucking devil in disguise who just made you cum quicker than you’ve ever cum in your life.

But you can’t think straight, can’t even hold yourself up, really, the rough brick of the wall behind you burning the back of your neck from the weight you’re putting into it when Arthur lets go of you completely. You hate that you feel the lack of his touch burning you worse than acid. You have to go. Now.

“I… I have to…”

But Arthur isn’t listening. He’s already unzipping his pants, the shadow of his cock branding down his thigh.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I’ve gotta get my prize, don’t I?”

Oh god.

You have to craft an expression of distaste, cannot under any circumstance let on that you can’t think of anything you want more in this moment. The distaste shatters quickly, however, when Arthur sheathes his knife and pulls his hard, thick cock out of his jeans. It’s a fucking masterpiece, twitching and pulsing, his deep veins and rosy head practically entrancing you.

…until Arthur begins to palm his throbbing erection and his growl reminds you just who’s cock you’re all but drooling over.

“I ain’t a-“

But your protest is the next victim to die at the hands of the Van Der Linde as he grasps an ass cheek in each hand, effortlessly lifting you to your tiptoes so he can spear into you. He wastes no time or gentleness, invading you to the hilt first time. You’ve never felt so full. It’s almost too much, your sensitive nub still reeling from its first orgasm, but you take it like the most beautiful punishment you’ve ever experienced. You bite down onto your bottom lip to keep from screaming out, watching from the hidden shadows of the alley as a lawman walks past, completely unaware of the carnal sins of the flesh being committed just feet away from him.

That thought only winds you further and higher as Arthur’s hard, relentless thrusts pound deep into you. He’s hitting the same spot his fingers were curling up into only seconds ago every damn time, completely overwhelming you and stealing the breath from your lungs.

Arthur leans in close to the shell of your ear, “Oh, I bet you just fuckin’ love this, don’tcha princess? Little whore, comin’ undone like this just for me…”

“F-Fuck off-" you stutter out, barely managing to gasp for the air required to do so. You can’t finish your insult as calloused hands grip tighter onto your thighs and pick you up fully. It exposes you even more and allows a new angle for Arthur to fuck up into you and you see stars. You think your lip is bleeding from the way you’re biting on it, but you probably couldn’t count to ten right now. Who knows what’s going on around you when Arthur is so deep inside you.

You’re hurtling towards another orgasm even without the external stimulation, feeling everything. The lewd sensation of Arthur’s balls slapping against your ass, his fingernails digging hard into your fleshy thighs, the mixture of the both of you dripping down your leg and soaking your newly ripped jeans, the taste of your own blood filling your moaning, mewling mouth. All of it.

“Don’t fucking cum in me, Morgan, or I swear I’ll-”

“Shut up.” he demands, his grip on your legs moving to wrap them tight around his waist so that he can release one side and pin you to the wall by your throat. It shuts you up, alright, as you can barely manage the gasp ripped out of you when he uses his other hand to smack your ass hard. His thumb squeezes your neck in just the right place and your vision starts to blur, and just when you think you might black out, he thrusts up into you, gyrating his hips in a circular motion. The head of his cock feels like it’s massaging you, the pressure in your temples growing and the throbbing in your cunt intensifying to the point where it feels like the earth is shattering around you. Arthur is growling into your ear, your nails scratching deep marks into his neck, ripping open the skin every so often.

“Oh fuck, oh Arthur d-don’t stop, don’t fucking stop I-I-” Your voice is croaked but somehow you manage your demand, and Arthur obliges, continuing to spear you. His pelvis is grinding down on your clit in perfect time to the pulsing waves you feel all over and at one point you swear those orbs of light hanging above seem to dance around your vision. Your complete release comes at the same time as Arthur’s release of your neck, the blood rushing back through your veins and making everything feel distant.

Arthur’s grunts and moans vibrating against your ear guide you back to Earth, your tight cunt feeling that much fuller after its second climax of the evening. You know you can’t take much more. You’re a drooling, mumbling mess in his arms. Arthur lifts your chin, taking the weight of your head in his hand to force your eyes onto him as he thrusts in and out a final, intense, invasive, wonderful time.

He slips out of you just in time, his hot seed spilling out in between the two of you and splattering over your shirt. If you had enough pieces of your own mind to gather a coherent thought, you would probably be furious, but your tired limbs ache from being suspended for so long, the skin of your neck burning from the rough brick you’ve been forced against.

It’s the most gentle he’s been all night when he places you onto the floor, supporting your weight until your legs have enough integrity to do it themselves. You can hear the teeth of Arthur’s zip, feel the cold air on your exposed jeans as everything starts to sink in.

“Here.” Arthur grumbles, as if it’s the last thing in the world he wants to do is help you, but you just about manage to grab the jacket he throws at you. You’re speechless, that fire once fuelled by lust now holding pure fury and hatred. Hatred for Arthur and his stupid fucking smirk, fury for yourself for giving into him… and now here you are, tying Arthur Morgan’s jacket around your waist after fucking him in an alleyway, his spurs clicking against the cobblestone as he leaves you alone in the middle of Saint Denis.

…God fucking dammit.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic

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crushthecore · 24 days

Text

MINOR BTW

Hey so I impulsively decided to make this blog for the purpose of making friends and uhh idk where to start do I just put my interests out there and people pop out of nowhere,^^`π¢√|ππ`°€°€ Anyways soo at the time it's 2am, so bare with me, sorry if some things are grammatically wrong or/and don't make sense, I know all of this has a bunch of errors. Kinda rushed through this all..:D

Uhh

Here's an interest board🙏 this contains like the music I like, movies, and stuff,,,tbh I have some shit in here that I haven't watched cuz of my lazy ass but I really want to, does it count😞 i am interested in it

If I'm being honest some of these aren't really my current interests, or I'm just rusty in my knowledge abt em, but I haven't been interested in some things for awhile so it would be boring if I had only a few things in there soo (I barely do anything with my life but sleep. I don't even watch shows anymore, ikik boring I'm trying to convince my mom to buy me the CSM manga at the moment though. I'll have something to yap abt, maybe.🙏🙏)

EDIT: looking back at this I forgot to include some other stuff that I'm also interested in but I forgot abt it at the time of making this... anywho I'll make an updated interest post or something if I'm motivated enough 2 do it

!! Some extra stuff that may be useful to know, to you knowww know what you're getting into. 🤔:3

Ahem ahem, I have social anxiety which means I most likely won't text you first unless I really really force myself too or/and I really like you and think you are very cool. So if u wanna be friends with me, using the anon question option thingy would be a nice first step. :D

I get attached extremely fast uhhh🤔🤔yea, oh and I'm extremely clingy so if someone texting you every 30 minutes (or minute, jkjk) sounds like a no go, than I'm not a good fit to be your friend.^_^ BUT. I also have my times where I feel like talking to no one so uhhhsidnjddj. I have no life so that's what probably contributes to me being attached to someone, maybe, probably...😇 (dumbass)

MY TIME ZONE: PDT (Pacific Daylight Time)

BEWAREE⚠️I sometimes joke around meanly so let me know if that ain't your thing, also I SOMETIMES get a little tooooo sentimental so I should probably stop playing around like that but I'll let you know if you passed a limit. Also I don't think I joke around very mean, but just to be safe. Please don't let this be a turn off. 🙏 Some examples of the jokes I may make are like "kys" and uhm yea. My minds kinda blank right now I'm getting a little tired, but my jokes consist of suicide, bombing places I don't like(school) and some other ones.So idk if it's heavilyyy offensive humor but some people don't take a liking to it so I thgouht it would be imporant to add

I feel like writing down a whole DNI list is gonna be uhh time consuming, will it take a long timr??? Some that I can name on the top of my head rn are proshippers, homophobes, and transphobes. But anyways I'll just block you if you're weird weird (in a bad way) so like age regrresors, (SFW) furries, witches, emos, oher co ol people i hsve forggteten, PLEAESRETEGD let me be ur friend 😞

I'm 14 btw,, the age range I'm aiming to become friends with is 13-16

Idk if I'd be down to be friends with people younger than 13 or older than 16, we'll see. 🤷🤷 But 13-16 people PLEASEEe INTERACT.

I'm not even kidding I'm so desperate for social interaction blehdhdhhd, I hate being an introverted socially anxious loser🤬🤬/hj :3 but please guys🙏🙏 I will worship the ground you walk on I need some friends

ONE. LASTM THING. When I talk to someone new I usually talk, uhh, formally??? Kind of, I get anxious talking to others so I'm so sorry if I seem uptight💔 I swear I'll warm up after some time, the more consistent the interactions, the faster I get used to you and warm up^^

I feel like I'm forgetting to write something else uhh, I'll update if anything important comes to my mind later, maybe (sorry for the messy formatting btw I lost all my progress when I was trying to make it pretty so I just gave up)

Well this is going to be embarrassing if this doesn't have any results errmmfjfjfjjffi I had been contemplating on doing this for awhile, praying to God at least one person reaches out 🙏🙏

I don't even believe in that mf ☹️

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE /ref

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reneerappisms · 2 days

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"i'm not drunk enough for this" for cadina?

or read below:

cady's starting to regret coming to this party. the music is too loud and there's too many people around and she hardly knows anyone. the bass from whatever song is playing is making her bones vibrate, and she hasn't been drinking enough to dull her senses to a point where this is all manageable. she swirls around whatever's in her solo cup, and stares at it like it just threatened to kill her. with a hefty sigh, she brings the cup to her lips and downs the rest of the cup in one go. thankfully it was pretty empty, but god does it burn.

cady's face scrunches up in discomfort, and she does her best to weave through the constantly moving crowd of people to find someone she knows. it's not too long before she finds karen (who seems absolutely overjoyed to see her, according to the massive grin on her face. that might just be the alcohol, though), and she's grateful to at least be in familiar company. she can barely make out anything karen's saying over the bone - shaking, brain - vibrating music, and even then, she doesn't think karen would hear her when she responds.

it works out well enough, at least. karen's just happy to have someone to talk to (or talk at), and cady's grateful to be with someone she knows. she hangs around karen for a while longer, doing her best to listen to karen's rambling about some guy that's been flirting with her lately, and it's only when she's being tugged along to another room that she realizes she managed to zone out. (zoning out in even the most distressing situations is a skill cady acquired years ago, thankfully.)

she blinks, brows furrowed as she sort of stumbles lamely behind karen. . . and gretchen. (when did she find them?) it's not long before she finds herself standing awkwardly in front of a circle of her peers, all staring expectantly at her. she catches sight of a bottle in the center of the circle, but before she can put the puzzle pieces together in her mind, she catches none other than regina george's gaze. regina george, who currently looks uncharacteristically nervous. she's fidgeting with her fingers ——— something cady's noticed she does fairly often, actually ——— and her gaze is flipping back and forth between cady and karen (and gretchen, by extension).

before cady can even begin to react, though, karen's dragging her to a gap that's formed in the circle. she, karen and gretchen all sit down, and this is how cady heron gets dragged into a surprise game (and her first game) of spin the bottle. she gets the basic concept, but she's grateful to be able to just observe for a few rounds. the beer bottle gods have granted her luck, apparently. the bottle makes at least 7 rounds in the circle before there’s even so much as a close call. The one close call they do have, though, is when some girl across the circle has a turn and the bottle lands on karen. cady finds that she feels uncomfortable watching, and she notices gretchen tensing up when she looks away. she doesn't have any time to process that information though, because she turns back to the circle and finds that it's regina's turn to spin.

regina takes her sweet time with it, waiting for all the lingering hubbub from the last kiss to cool off. on the other end of the circle, cady's gaze is shifting between regina ——— she's so pretty, and the alcohol isn't helping ——— and the bottle in the middle of the circle. by the time regina actually moves to spin it, cady's having a very intense staring contest with it. she’s not sure if she’s willing it to do something ——— spin her way, maybe ——— or if she’s just really invested in where it lands. regardless of her subconscious desires, she’s distracted by perfectly manicured pink nails tapping the glass, and once again, regina george has all eyes on her (and cady’s lost her beer bottle staring contest). when she finally spins the bottle, silence settles over the room like a blanket ——— as much as a room adjacent to a loud party could be silent, at least ——— and everyone’s focus is on the bottle, and subsequently the person it lands on. it spins and spins and spins, and for a moment, cady thinks it might never stop. stop it does, though, and suddenly all eyes are on cady. she squirms uncomfortably in her spot, eyeing the beer bottle as if it's threatened her.

to cady, it feels like her heart's exploding in her chest. it's pounding in her ears like the bone - shaking bass from whatever awful music is playing in the other room, and all at once, she can't breathe. she tries her best to ignore all the expectant eyes on her when she looks at regina again, assuming it'll be the blonde that makes the first move in this situation, whatever that may be.

at the other end of the bottle, regina is, once again, fidgeting with her fingers. her inner monologue consists mostly of her cussing out the ugly ass brown beer bottle sitting between all of them, but there's another voice hidden in there, amidst all the concerningly angry swearing. it's far too calm amidst the chaos, and it's reminding her that this is very public, and that she needs to keep her long buried, deeply smothered feelings in check. I'm not drunk enough for this, she thinks. it repeats on a loop in her head as she glances between cady, the crowd, and her drink.

“I'm not drunk enough for this,” she says, far too audibly and far too coldly. not only was she not intending on speaking this thought aloud, but she surely wasn't intending to say it like that. well, no matter. she has to play the part now, so she grabs her drink and all but chugs it, eyes steady on cady over the rim of the cup. now, with the way they play spin the bottle at these parties, that would normally mean regina's refusing to kiss cady, but regina hasn't been one for sticking to the rules in a long while.

she's deliberate about how she crawls across the circle to cady. regina's making a show of it the way she makes a show everything. her movements are slow and cat - like, and when she's close enough, she reaches out to gently grab cady's jaw. her nails scratch gently at cady's skin when she does, and the smaller girl tenses visibly at the sensation. that gets a little teasing smile from regina, and before cady can back out, regina's closing the miniscule distance between them.

cady, on the other hand, is freaking the hell out. this entire interaction has been nothing short of conflicting, and she hasn't shaken off the hurt from regina's words by the time they're kissing. the pink nails scratching lightly at her jaw prove to be incredibly distracting though, and cady finds herself leaning into the situation, rather than resenting the bottle that got her into it. her hand comes to rest on regina's top, fingers curling into the fabric the tiniest bit. she's more than aware that she's flushed from her neck to the tips of her ears, and she's totally prepared to blame it on the alcohol if it comes up (assuming everyone hasn't already picked up on the totally obvious real reason).

the kiss lasts far longer than a spin the bottle kiss has any right to reasonably last, and cady gets far too into it for someone who's so positive that she's not into regina like that (read: in denial). when regina finally pulls back, cady's left sitting there, totally dumbfounded and pink in the face. murmurs break out among the peanut gallery as regina returns to her seat, calm and collected as ever. cady, however, doesn't move at all for a solid 45 seconds. she sits there, still as a statue, eyes wide and heart pounding and breathing shaky, staring straight at regina. when she finally moves, it's to get up and rush out of the room.

now it's regina's turn to stare. dark brows knit into a confused frown, gaze trailing after the smaller girl as she all but sprints out of the house. there's a buffer of a minute or two before regina gets up and follows her, ignoring the pit in her stomach. she doesn't find cady again until she's fully out of the house, and when she does finally spot her, she's bathed in the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp and facing away from her.

“cady,” she calls out, walking a little faster now that she knows where cady actually is. “hey.”

cady turns around at the sound of regina's voice, frowning and tugging her jacket closer to herself. she's confused ——— why would regina chase after her? it's just a stupid game. cady's the one being wholly overdramatic about it all. and yet, here they are, under a streetlamp just after 1am, all because cady couldn't handle a game.

“what,” she says, finally, unprepared for how whiny she sounds. “haven't you done enough?”

regina's lost. thoroughly confused. if she were to tap into her secret english nerd side, she might even call herself discombobulated.

“what are you talking about?”

“you didn't have to make such a show about not wanting to kiss me,” cady relents, gaze dropping like a rock to the ground. she's all but hugging herself at this stage, unable to ignore the lingering disappointment. “you don't have to make a show about everything, gina.”

regina sighs. god damn her brain and her inability to keep her thoughts in her head. she clenches her jaw, doing her best to actually think before she speaks this time around. admittedly, though, her mind is foggy at best.

“that's not what I ———,” she sighs again, cutting herself off early. “here.”

she glances around then ——— they're alone, thank god ——— before drawing cady closer, tugging her in by her jacket. her hands find cady's cheeks, and once again, perfectly manicured pink nails scratch her skin. cady shivers, gaze flitting up to regina's, eyes sparkling curiously. there's some hesitance on regina's end, and if cady's mind was clearer she'd be able to see the gears turning in her head. she relents, ultimately, and pulls cady in for another kiss.

this one is real. this one is genuine. there's no game, no obligation, no image to uphold. it's just them, the streetlamp and the light of the moon.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #cadina #cady heron #regina george #cady x regina #regina x cady #prompts #send me prompts

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utilitycaster · 3 months

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hi! is s01e01 representative of midst as a whole? i tried it but couldn't get through it bc i found it very distracting with the bg music/noise and the tag teaming of the narration; it all kept pulling me out of my minds palace and i just couldn't get into it. however, a lot of people on here and on reddit highly recommend it so the story must be good, and i like good stories so id like to enjoy it. does it "get better", so to speak, in regards to the background ambiance and narration? is it available in written form anywhere, so that i could enjoy it by reading it? thank you!

Hi anon,

In terms of the narration style and sound design, yes, it is.

I've thought fairly carefully about this answer but in short: I think with podcasts (and frankly, anything), the medium is the message. There are transcripts, and you can read them. I think if you are hard of hearing such that the sound design makes it difficult to separate narration from the music or noise; or you have misophonia or auditory processing disorders or something similar such that it is genuinely uncomfortable, then the transcripts are available.

However, if that's not the case, Midst's sound design is in my opinion a strength. It is undeniable that if you choose to read the transcripts rather than listen, you will be losing a major dimension of the storytelling and worldbuilding: the sound is, fundamentally, part of the mind palace. And as someone who listens to a decent number of fiction podcasts that have background sounds or music, I actually think the design and the pure technical balance of Midst is one of the best there is, to the point that actually I find that some sounds fade into the background very naturally and I end up relistening when someone else brings them up.

What I would recommend, if you have only listened to the first episode, is to stick it out through a few more, because I suspect that if an auditory issue is not at play, you are actually having difficulty with the three-narrator structure. I personally found it initially difficult but quickly acclimated (and it too is a key part of the whole). Listen to the first 3-4 episodes. Episode 1 is barely over 15 minutes. Would you give up altogether on a TV show 15 minutes in? Give it another hour or so, and if you still don't like it, you can decide what to do from there.

I think just to wrap up I do want to admit that this might make me sound like a cranky millennial and also a completionist, and to be fair I am both these things, but I think there is a tendency in fandom spaces to want to be part of something whether or not it is working for you. This is an understandable impulse. However, I think this has unfortunately become entangled with a tendency I am less sympathetic towards; that of demanding things be catered to your existing preferences rather than allowing yourself to be a little uncomfortable. Naturally I don't think anyone should deliberately trigger themselves or be in pain; but perhaps we could all stand to be more patient, give things more time, be more willing to meet works where they are rather than trying to pull them towards what we already know and love, and listen to the songs on the album we don't love as much rather than skipping to the easy hits. And, if after a good-faith patient effort, it's still not clicking for us, to walk away instead of trying to find a way to sand it down enough to fit into our comfort zone.

#answered #Anonymous

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 9 months

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CW: Intrusive thoughts (nearly acting one out which would hurt an animal)

Hi! I’m not really sure how to go about asking this, but a few years ago I was professionally diagnosed with autism and whilst it explained a lot of my behaviours there are still quite a few that aren’t “normal” and I’m not sure if it’s something else, but I thought you’d be the best person to come to (I’ve tried talking to my parents about it several times but they brushed it off, and since I’m a year off 18 I can’t really do anything about it myself).

Throughout most of my life I haven’t like getting dirty, and whilst this is partially a sensory thing, every time I touch something that I perceive to be dirty—even if I know that it’s clean and it has been cleaned several times over—I can’t touch it and if I do then my hands feel like they’re covered in a thin layer of filth and I can’t concentrate on anything else until I wash my hands thoroughly, and this can lead me to washing my hands at least fifteen times a day, but I can go days without showering and not feeling bothered by it at all. My parents sometimes ask me why I just seem to “randomly” wash my hands but I don’t want to tell them the actual reason because they’d say I was overreacting, but this can lead me to not wanting to touch people at all, especially their hands because they’re usually the dirtiest part of a person (with a couple of exceptions) and like I said I can’t stand the thought of having some else’s germs on me. Again I don’t know if this is an autism-related thing since sensory issues also come into play but I haven’t seen much about it in relation to ASD.

Another couple of things I wanted to ask about was intrusive thoughts and dissociation: I’ve been having intrusive thoughts for the last few years and most of the time I can deal with them but lately I’ve been really struggling with not acting them out, for example I’ll get one urging me to physically lash out or tell yell slurs or verbally abuse someone and it’s difficult to hold myself back now, which is similar to when they first started, where I got an intrusive thought to strangle one of my pets and it was difficult for me to not go through with it (don’t worry they’re fine I didn’t hurt them) but it distresses me that if I was zoned out enough for even just a bit I could go through with them.

As for the dissociation, again that’s been happening for a couple years, where it’s been manageable, but the last few months/year I keep zoning out a lot for long periods of time to the point where it badly impacted my grades and school work because I’d barely ever be able to pay attention in lessons, even ones I enjoyed—the teacher could be standing right in front of me and talking but I wouldn’t be able to hear a word they were saying even if I was looking at them, and a lot of the time I wasn’t even aware that I was looking at them because my eyes wouldn’t take anything in and I’d be completely inside my head. Lately it’s been getting worse because whilst I’ve always had vivid dreams it’s started to get increasingly difficult to tell what are dreams and what aren’t—even ones that are completely nonsensical—because it’s gotten to the point where my dreams feel too real and my waking life feels fake and my mind and body feel numb, my dreams feel so much more vivid and realistic, and it sometimes gets to the point where sometimes I don’t know whether I’m awake or not because real life doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t help that for the last couple of weeks I’ve been having nightmares almost every night, which ends up in me waking up terrified in the middle of the night because it feels like the threat’s actually there so I’ve been perpetually exhausted due to disrupted sleep and insomnia because it’s gotten to the point where I’m scared of falling asleep. Back to the dissociation bit, a lot of the time I also don’t seem to know what I’m doing or where I’m going and it can again sometimes feel like I’m dreaming even though I’m wide awake because my mind and senses feel disconnected from my body, I think this is sometimes described as brain fog? but I’m not entirely sure.

Sorry this turned out to be really long but I just wanted to see what your thoughts were because I’ve been really struggling lately, and there’s currently nobody else I can talk to about this. If you respond then thank you in advance, it would mean a lot to me.

Hi there,

I’ll do my best to answer this.

The washing your hands part reminds a little of OCD. And it can coincide with autism. Here’s a Venn diagram showing the difference and similarities:

The link to this article will be below if you want to read it.

I can’t really help you with the dissociation part, that’s something that needs to be talked about with a professional or therapists. Maybe some of my followers can give advice.

I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your question fully. But thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is open

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villainessprefect · 1 year

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title: The Game We're Playing and You're My Target

summary: Idia has three hours to survive at a party. Easier said than done. At least he can hang out in the garden...with Azul? Yeah, Azul is there too.

ship: Idiazul

word count: 2,643

Read on AO3!

Parties are a total war zone. All the extroverts are running around, greeting each other, and participating in mindless mingling. For an introvert, it means avoiding as many people as possible. After you give your forced introduction it's time to make a getaway. There's no time to hang around out in the open and wait for those normies to pounce on a poor soul.

Thankfully, all Idia needs to do is survive for three hours. The counter started the minute he stepped foot onto these overly fancy grounds and he made sure that the second his time was up, he'd disappear. It's not like anyone would miss him anyway. That excuse is easy to use to try and slip away earlier, but he can't after making a promise to Ortho.

"Just for a few hours? Please, Idia?"

When Ortho gave him those pleading eyes, he couldn't say no. And boy does he regret it.

On the bright side, he knows the venue inside and out. When prepping for the big night, Idia made sure to know all the secret getaways, the hidden hallways, the backdoors, any where to get out of the bigger and more populated areas for the night. And that helped with his first hour.

Idia only promised to be at the party, not to socialize.

The voices of people he could care less about were all drowned out by the music blaring through the speakers. Even while out in the gardens, Idia could hear the annoyingly modern music. As much as it wasn't to his tastes, it did provide as nice background noise. Wandering through the garden, he found a nice spot to relax. A secluded area that he doubts anyone would venture out to. It might not be as ideal as finding an empty bedroom to hide in, but it was better than nothing.

As Idia takes a seat on the white marble, golden eyes glance over to the main building. He huffs.

"I don't need to be with those normies," he mutters. "It's not like they need me to be there anyway. My tablet would have just been fine and I could have remained as some mystery character. The top-tier characters get all the attention anyway."

It's easy to imagine Vil stealing the show. An SSR character like him is in his natural habitat in a place like this. Plus he has the beauty to flaunt while being on stage for a crowd. Honestly, the school should have only sent him instead of all the housewardens. But, whatever.

A hand plays with his blue flames. His hair had been put up to look...decent instead of its usual mess. It's fine, he doesn't mind it, but he hated the looks he got on the way here. With his other hand, he whips out his phone. His gaze automatically goes to the time. An hour and a half left. That gives him time to grind before a game resets for the day.

"Agh, I should have just let this run on a script at home..." He murmurs. "Could have gotten some more EXP."

Idia sighs as he finishes the usual tasks. He could do more but it's monotonous and repetitive if he isn't doing something else. And the only other thing option is going back inside while letting this run. Yeah, no. Not doing that. It doesn't help that it barely ate a few minutes off the clock.

"My, my, I should have known I'd find you out here."

"Eep!"

Idia is quick to jump to his feet. Hands gripping his phone for dear life as he steps away from the source of the new voice.

"Azul?" He relaxes once their eyes meet. "I didn't know you could jump-scare someone. What are you doing out here?"

"Enjoying the scenery." Idia scoffs. "What? Don't believe me?" Azul says with an obviously feigned sad expression. "Even I have to escape from the scene every now and then."

"You? Make an escape? The only reason you'd get away is if you were losing at your own game."

"You wound me, to think I'd ever let that happen."

Idia hates that he has to agree with him on that. Azul knows people, knows what they want, and knows how to get what he wants from them. As far as he's aware, Azul has never failed in making a deal. His completionist stats were always 100%.

"There's a first for everything..." Idia mumbles as he returns to his seat. Not even this interaction took up a few minutes. When had time ever been this slow? Not even his MMO updates were this painstakingly long.

Idia doesn't think to give Azul any more attention, not until he hears the other's footsteps. Heels click against the tiles leading toward him. He sighs and looks up.

"Your brother would be disappointed seeing you out here."

"Erk!" Idia winces. That was a critical hit! "Y-Yeah..." He gulps. "W-What are you going to do? Tattle on me like some middle schooler?"

"I'm not that petty. Of course, I'd only resort to it if necessary."

Idia frowns, not liking the sound of that.

"How about this? Offer me your time out here and I'll remain silent about your failure to your brother's expectations."

"I think even he has low expectations for me..." Idia says. He knows otherwise. Ortho would be cheering him on every step of the way. But being in there? With so many people? No no no no. He needed to take baby steps first. Get comfortable at housewarden meetings, maybe go to a school event without needing to run off. Being thrown into a party was just like sending a level 1 newbie into the final boss's lair. "Do what you want."

"I'll take that as a yes."

With that, Azul takes a seat beside Idia. He sits close enough that their legs nearly touch, leaving only a small space between them. Neither seems to mind, both are comfortable with each other to be this close. Idia fiddles with his phone, trying to be preoccupied with something to make the time tick by faster. If only downloading a new game wouldn't take so long then he could at least have something to do. He's close to resorting to doing a ten-pull on his previous game out of pure boredom. He doesn't even like the current character's banner, but he wants something to do.

"If you're that bored, you know we could always do something while we're out here."

Idia hates how Azul picks up on his habits. Perhaps he'd been too obvious by swiping back and forth on his phone, or he just knows how he is. How long have they known each other? And how long have they been hanging out outside of class and club activities? It's hard to say.

"Like what? Touch grass?"

"While I think that is something you should do," Azul pauses as he gets to his feet. "Perhaps a walk would be better? That wouldn't hurt."

Idia is about to decline but sighs. He feels like he's lost this game before he's even started it. No excuse could get him out of it. So, he silently puts his phone away and stands.

He lets Azul lead the way. Idia keeps his head down, hands in his pockets. Despite the formal attitude needed for a party like this, he doesn't feel as tense as he should. If he were inside, alone, and surrounded by too many normies, he'd be having a heart attack. But out here? Being with Azul and the comfort of the cool air, and silent winds. It's comforting. He's not alone as he would like, but he feels at ease with Azul.

They pass by a small pond, one decorated with intricate statues. It reminds Idia of a game, a save point area specifically. The music was really pleasant, a gentle piano tune drifting through the air. It brought a sense of comfort after a long and hard fight. He remembers searching for the song immediately and putting it in a playlist for a later day.

"You're smiling," Azul points out.

"Eh? N-No I'm not!" Idia is quick to cover his mouth with his hand and turn away from him. Azul chuckles.

In an attempt to gain some distance between him while getting rid of his little embarrassment, he makes one mistake. A misstep. He hadn't calculated the difference in height between the pond's outer marble layer and the grass, thus leading to his ultimate downfall. He feels his body begin to fall, gravity pulling him down to meet his demise. If this is how he's supposed to go out, then it's a pretty lame way to go. A tragic and uncool death by falling into a shallow pool of water and hitting his head while all dressed up.

Didn't this happen in a game once? Would Azul be suspected of murder? Why couldn't he have just stayed home tonight? Is Vil singing that one song he did at the SDC right now? Why does he know that song? Were Azul's eyes always so pretty?

Whoever said your life flashes before your eyes before you die is a liar because his mind is running a mile a minute about everything else. Then again, he isn't dying. Or falling.

Something, or rather, someone, had stopped his ungraceful death. A hand grips his with all its might and then yanks him forward. It's so sudden that his mind goes blank. Especially as his body collides with Azul's.

"Idia," Azul breathes. His pretty ocean-like eyes were on him. "You should be more careful where you step."

Idia gulps, unable to speak. His heart racing from his (not) near-death experience and being so, so close to Azul. Their bodies are still pressing against each other, their noses only inches apart, hands still clinging to each other.

What kind of flag did he just raise? More importantly, how did he end up in a route like this?!

"Are you okay?" Azul asks, tone softer than earlier, gaze too.

"Y-Yeah!" Idia squeaks out, finally finding his voice. His hair flicks wildly, flashing pink at the tips. He unintentionally squeezes Azul's hand for support. He tries to find his footing now that he's processing everything and finds Azul's other hand placed carefully against his back, keeping him in place.

"Trying to escape me now?" Azul hums with a teasing look. That soft and trustworthy look is gone. Maybe he was imagining things- did Azul really look concerned about him earlier? "After I just saved your life too?"

"Th-That's the worst outcome. If anything, I just ruin my outfit and have to leave earlier than I'm supposed to."

"Oh? Perhaps I should allow you to test your fate then." To tease him, Azul tips Idia back. His hold is firm, but Idia can't tell if he's being serious or not. In a panic, Idia lets go of his hand and wraps his arms around Azul, clinging onto him for dear life. Even if he would like to go home early, it wasn't worth looking like a wet mess in front of Azul.

"D-Don't!" He yelps. Idia glances back to the water to make sure their distance remains the same. When he's certain that Azul isn't going to throw him back, he lets out a sigh. And then it hits him.

Idia is practically embracing Azul. While his arms remain around the other boy, he pulls back enough to catch Azul with pink cheeks.

"You're so bold, Idia," he says. He's trying to sound confident, but his tone lacks the same finesse it usually carries.

"I-It's not like..." Idia bites down on his lip. Azul's grip has loosened and he can escape from him if he wishes. But he doesn't.

"I don't mind this," Azul breathes.

"Huh."

"This. Being here with you." Azul mumbles and boldly press forward, destroying the little space between them. "Perhaps you enjoy it too? That's why you don't mind me out here. Or being in my arms."

Idia fumbles for an excuse. His mind tries to think of something, but this sudden event is leaving him with nothing to work with. There was no filled heart gauges in his vision or options that clearly led him down this route. But now he's here. And instead of being the protagonist, he feels like he's the capture target. Literally.

All he knows is their lips are about to meet. He can feel Azul's breath against his skin. Smell that sweet lavender that has a hint of the ocean he comes from. At this close, he can really see how his eyes sparkle like the waves of the ocean, the moonlight making them shimmer at just the right angle.

"I-If this continues...I-I'm going to ruin this night for you," Idia mumbles just before their lips can meet. His hands grip tightly onto Azul, fingers digging so deep into his blazer that it might just rip. Azul's hesitation upon hearing him speak is enough to let Idia turn his head to the side. Pink flames end up grazing his lips instead. "Y-You don't want that."

Azul huffs and pouts. He's upset by the sound of it. What did he do to upset him?!

"And what do you know about what I want, hm?" Azul raises a hand to grip Idia's chin, making the other boy face him. Tears prick at the edges of those beautiful golden eyes. As embarrassed as he may be, those tears don't help his situation, if anything it's a pathetic sight that Azul loves dearly.

He grins, proud, and then presses his lips against his cheek.

"The only thing you can ruin is the win streak I have against you," Azul whispers into his ear. He feels the other shudder and clings onto him with a little whimper.

"Azul..." Idia feels weak in his hold. Hot, bothered. His body might just overheat at this rate. It makes him feel like he should do something, reciprocate, at the very least. But no matter how many times he clicks on the action icon, his body doesn't move.

And then his phone explodes with an obnoxiously loud song.

With some amazing force, Idia manages to free himself from Azul. His time here was up and he didn't need to be in this final boss round any longer. Idia doesn't even mumble an apology as he makes his escape. All he wants to do is get out of here and set his thoughts straight.

Azul sighs and puts a hand on his head, rubbing it. He knew 'conquering' Idia, as he would have put it, wouldn't be easy. But tonight was a perfect chance to try. He even factored in a time limit, which is why he excused himself fairly early from the party. The only thing he didn't factor in was Idia having an alarm for his departure.

It's even worse that he can still hear the tune. He wishes that he could silence it forever, and ban that single song from all of Octavinelle while he's at it.

A light on the ground catches his attention. The source of the music comes from it as well. Azul bends down to pick up Idia's phone. With a press of a button, the garden falls silent. As he sees his own reflection against the phone's screen, he chuckles.

"There's a tale just like this, isn't there? A princess running away from a prince yet leaving behind something important." Azul hums as he pockets the phone. He's certain that Idia will figure out it's missing sooner or later and this is a piece of technology that he needs. Azul knows Idia. He knows the other will try to hide from him, but with this little bargaining chip, perhaps they'll run into each other sooner rather than later.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idiazul #azulidi #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #idia x azul #ignihyde #octavinelle

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codychristiantreasures · 6 months

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Worked up

For the few that still read Cody writings

This idea popped into my head and I just kinda ran with it

18+

Warnings: talks of sexual activity, implied sexual activity, making out, taking clothes off, the word “hell” is used. Let me know if I missed any!

You’re sitting on set, scrolling through your phone. You wanted something to distract yourself from your nerves. You had an intimate scene to film with Cody and you have been nervous about it since you first read the script. You have had intimate scenes with Cody before but it never went any further than kissing. Now your characters have decided to take the next step and this is what the writers wanted. It wasn’t having to do the scene with Cody that made you nervous, you were very comfortable with him having been dating for the past 2 years. It was doing the scene in front of the crew. This was your first intimate scene and you had no idea if you would be any good, if it would be awkward having to act everything out, if you could make it believable. There were so many concerns running through your mind.

“Hey, are you ready? I think they want to get started soon.” You looked up to see Cody smiling at you. “Yeah, I think so. I want to get this over with.” You said with a nervous laugh. “Baby” he said while cupping your face “If you really don’t want to do this, let’s talk to the writers. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” “No, I want to do this. I’m nervous as hell but I think it’s important for our character’s development. I also want my first intimate scene to be with someone I am 100% comfortable with.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. He looked at you with an unsure look. “I’m good, I promise.” You smiled and went over to let the directors know you were good to go.

Your legs are wrapped around Cody’s waist, arms around his neck. He has one hand on your back and the other on your thigh, holding you up. This part is fun for you, you get to make out with your boyfriend for work. As Cody makes his way over to the bed on the set that is meant to be your character’s room, you start to get a little nervous again because you know it’s really about to start. Cody feels you tense up a bit. Luckily it wasn’t enough for the camera to see so you two kept the scene going. Cody lays you down on the bed and gets on top of you. He kisses your neck and whispers “Pretend they’re not here. Close your eyes and imagine it’s you and me at home.” You close your eyes as he continues to kiss down your neck to your collarbone. He stops just long enough to take your shirt off then starts to kiss down your chest and to the waistband of your jeans. He takes your jeans off too, quickly taking a moment to take in how gorgeous you are. “I think we have to even out the playing field.” You say your line, in a flirty way. Cody smirks and takes off his shirt and pants too.

The next scene is you two under the sheets together. You’re lying in the bed, sheet covering your bare chest, completely zoned out. “Are you ready for the next scene?” A voice breaks you out of lala land. You blink a couple times and look over to see the director. “Yeah, I’m ready!” You say, actually excited for the next scene. “Great! Keep up the great work. That last scene was amazing. You two have great chemistry!” He says giving you a smile and walking over to Cody to see if he is ready too. Cody got into the bed next to you. Your head is on his chest, hand drawing mindlessly on his abs as your characters enjoyed the post coital bliss. “I know we were just as close as physically possible but somehow this moment feels more intimate.” You jokingly gasped “Is tough guy Theo going soft on me?” You said and smirked to yourself knowing he would probably make a sarcastic comment himself. “Soft for you? Never. Actually, I’m ready for round 2 if you are.” He said you looked up at him to see him wink and you couldn’t help but giggle at what he said. Cody rolled on top of you and started to kiss you again, implying that your characters were about to go for round two.

“How are you feeling about the scenes?” Cody asked as he sat in your trailer, waiting for you to finish gathering your things so you two could go home. “I’m actually really excited to see how they turn out on screen. I think the TW fanbase is going to love this new step our characters have taken together. I do want to thank you though. You helped ease my nerves and got me into the right mindset for the scenes. So thank you baby.” You said and leaned in to give him a kiss. “I’m so happy you’re happy with everything and I could make you feel comfortable.” He said giving you another kiss. “Now lets go home because those scenes got me really worked up and all that has been running through my mind since has been the image of you in that lingerie you were wearing.” Cody said, shifting in his seat a bit. “Say no more.” You grinned and you both left to go home.

#cody christian #cody christian drabble #cody christian x reader #cody christian imagine #theo raeken #teen wolf #asher adams

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voltrathesparking · 1 year

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All Over A Spilled Drink

Gustavo still refuses to take blame for what happened that fateful night. After all, it's not like he could help it; they were playing his song. There was no way he wasn't going to start busting out his moves on the floor and it’s not his fault that Peppino's table happened to be in the way of his (sloshed as hell) whirl. And there happened to be a glass on that table that got splashed onto Peppino's (only) coat. That could have happened because of anything else really.

Now the argument afterwards he probably could have handled a little better but once Peppino picked up the table in a red faced rage, talking was not an option. It took a good ten minutes for the bartender to separate them long enough to throw them both out. The details on what exactly happened once they were kicked out were a little blurry to this day.

(“I swear on my nonna that I got a good grip on you and gave ya a good suplexin’.” “You must have hit your head harder than you thought, monello.”)

After a few slow swings and muttered insults, Gustavo burst out laughing and laughing and just wanted to have a drink with this guy, much to the other man’s confusion. And that’s how they became friends.

They would run into each other at least once a week, most often at various bars around town. This is particularly strange in hindsight to Gustavo since he knows well now that Peppino never hits the bottle for anything.

(“It was a lot quieter than the nightclubs and a lot less sad than the park. Now get the dough for the next order ready!”)

But he supposes it isn’t that strange in hindsight. Peppino keeps his cards close to his chest. Barely talks about stuff that happened before they met outside of buying the location for Peppino’s Pizza and how that screwed him over in the long term. Gustavo doesn’t press, he’ll be there if the time comes. Besides, Peppino has a way of opening up when all is still. As rare as those times are in this sort of business.

The first time it happened was the first night that Gustavo worked at Peppino’s place, just sweeping up after cleaning the tables. The words of the chef cleaning up his counter were almost lost underneath the sound of cleaning (and Peppino’s odd quiet tone), but Gustavo heard and answered. To this day he’s still not sure why Peppino asked if he had any sisters.

Anger and stress on the other hand were things Gustavo saw plenty of. There always seemed to be something in the kitchen that would be on the fritz when Peppino was in the zone, throwing him off for the rest of the hour at least. You’d think that all the money that was poured into the heart of a restaurant, the kitchen, would have the decency to behave but they had no loyalty to anyone but whims. The smacking Peppino doles out to them once the order is finished clearly has nothing to do with it. He’d be there if anything went too crazy.

(“I hate this stupid holiday.” “I know, I know. Just wish those kids knew before they started throwin’ firecrackers around.” “Thanks. For stopping me.” “No problem, I don’t think they’ll come back with them.” “And there goes another group of customers…” “Ey, c’mon Peppino-” “Don’t try and tell me otherwise, I know I fucked up.” “Well. There’s always someone else next time.” “...Gustavo.” “Hm?” “Heh. How do you stand being such an optimist, it sounds exhausting.” “Someone’s gotta do it!”)

You couldn’t ask for a better guy to hang out with. Peppino is a real pal through and through.

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #gustavo #fanfiction #volt art

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evelyne-am · 1 year

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22nd March 2023

Day 9

I’m still slacking and to my horror others are struggling too here and there. Most of the cast is finding it tough to remember the new cues and lines and line distributions. We spent two hours on the first five lines today barely getting through the act one. Director is understandably furious. We got a proper yelling because we are just stumbling at every line. He reminds us we haven't even done the first two pages and we have 58 left. The song we open with is the one I made and I havent locked it, so we keep making mistakes on that first opening scene for over an hour.

I feel very angry with myself, even though my lackings are in a different place than others, M is correct when she says that we still haven’t jumped in fully. I wonder if I should stop writing the blog, it makes me feel like I’m still an outsider because I’m writing about it. But I also don’t want to stop because our director is really something and I would like to remember how I have been learning, how he is directing, and also these heightened emotions that I feel that may inspire me later. I already feel myself changing, my tolerance for inefficiency in my own teams is lowering. Even though I’m doing the same thing. Get to 100 percent AM!

We are on the 3rd version now. Originally we had thought it would be each person reads one part and is M1/M2/M3 turn by turn. 2nd version we played her at the same time, line by line like we are one person. Today's version seems final. There is only one M1/M2- though everyone else has dialogue its in 3rd person now. Sir seems to have picked M1/M2 as Sharm and Srab. They've played it the second day in a row. Sharm is doing super it I have to say. She’s the most experienced of the lot except M. shes able to stay in the zone and concentrate. We are working on act one which is basically pre 71, happisg times. I realise that we haven’t cried in a few sags. The first 6 to 7 days I was crying in rehearsal every day as we were learning the script. But as we are only figuring out the intros and beginning sequences none of it has been of the war of the crimes south so it’s very sort of mild. Md says that now we are forgetting the person who is actually telling the story. She is so right after rehearsal we are all feeling a bit down because I didn’t go well, I don’t blame the director for saying that he is going to see this for one more week before deciding if we will go through or not. Even though I know there’s a lot of preparation, the actual booking of the theatre, budgets, everything else is being done, so if you want to cancel you still can. After the rehearsal M calls me aside and says we need to fix that opening sequence, I’m very shame at least say yes let’s do it. She says come to our meeting tonight. I had plans to join the gym today because at this point I realise that we are no longer doing our morning exercise as we come in and go straight into the rehearsing of the play and I gained weight in the first nine days of rehearsals I’ve gained about 2 lb in any case postcode with my hunger is through the roof, stress from recent projects and personal stuff my hunger is through the roof, and though I still try to walk a little bit it’s not every day anymore like it used to be still only a few days week. also I missed the gym I haven’t been for over six months I used to love it so much. My plans though are now canceled. I go home and take a 20 minute nap and then I rush off to the meeting. Traffic is absolutely insane and I abandon my car and get a bike and thanks to a really nice bike I reach exactly at 7:29 when I am supposed to start the music work at 7:30. The meeting is in someone’s house, one of the core members of the group. I the first time see everyone in a more relaxed situation. The entire living room is split up the keyboard is kept open for me on one side on the other side people are making dinner on the other side the entire floor plan is being made with things draw been drawn to scale. The director seems to be in a better mood and everyone is figuring out logistics and planning things et cetera et cetera. everyone looks really nice they’re all dressed up in their normal clothes.

Did I ever mention that we have a sort of outfit that we wear ?. It’s T-shirts and pants that are not too loose or too tight; this is why you see me in a different T-shirt every day that is the actual uniform for rehearsal as it’s the one that is most flexible for all of our physical work. I’m the only one who still wearing my T-shirt and sweat pants. M is dressed in a sari and she keeps covering her head and I asked her why and she says that ever since the start of the play she dresses as a birangona at home. I have been considering doing a few things to keep the essence of the play with me when I go home, and I wonder if I can do the same or not I don’t know yet. I’ve considered giving up some of my favourite things to eat to do, just to channel a bit of the story is a bit more but A part of me realises that I might be best used to do the musical aspects then being a novice actor on stage, and the fact that I am in a Inner Circle meeting doing the structures for the music means that that’s also what everyone else is thinking. this is the first time that it is acknowledged at all in these circumstances that I have a sort of following all my own identity as a media person. Reference being we are trying to calculate how many shares to do how many tickets need to be sold how many tickets can be sold at certain prices and The host jokes that oh don’t worry Armeen will bring her own crowd. I have no idea if that’s true I know my friends would come. Overall it’s very light and jolly situation however once we wrap up our introductory song so I remind Sir that there is a second one to do and I actually feel like giving him ideas. I try to do a rap like spoken word piece and Azhar sort of points out doesn’t go. So I sort of give up for the day, I don’t know why I give up so easily these days. I don’t have a push sometimes when I don’t get my first brilliant idea naturally I give up very easily. The first song that I made for the intro it was literally the first thing that came out of my mind and it was based on a bunch of chords that I know that are good. The second song is different it’s not a soft song so not in my genre and obviously I am struggling with it and I just give up. but I admit it was nice to see The director a bit more relaxed; they all joke about each other and their romantic partners even Sir teases M, I’m a bit embarrassed so I just smile and sit in the corner. Our host is really sweet though she is evidently someone who has seen a lot of my work already and both the host chat with me a little bit. It feels weird to have references to my non-theatre life in theatre mode.

I’m struggling to fix my sleep schedule, when I go home it’s already pretty late, but I have my own things to do thoughts to have that I cannot ignore, I wish we were there were more days in the air, or more hours on the day that I could use to spend a little bit of time just thinking and also bloody apartment I don’t even have an AC right now and it’s getting really hot and I haven’t had the time to actually buy an AC and get it installed. Also I am dying to just organise my bookshelf it’s the first thing you see you when you enter my flat but despite the fact that I’ve had all the books nicely done I still do not have even 10 minutes to put the books in the order that I want to. I’m up till 2 am again with my own stuff. I haven’t memorised M2 either, I won’t say that I’m not enjoying being part of the music but I do realise it might lower my chances of getting any proper lines.

Oh God after disastrous rehearsal day I am a bit more relieved to see that the play is still being planned, they have decided to lower the number of shows from 25 to 19. M says it’s only physically durable to do the maximum 19 shows in a row. I have performed many many days in a row but never 19 shows I’m actually deeply looking forward to those 19 inches. Your girl hasn’t been on stage in awhile and it’s coming through.

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 1 year

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HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 19

*Warning: Adult Content*

On the ride home, Flora Hunter regales them with the tale of her first Shift, her words tumbling over each other in her eager excitement.

Martin Hunter listens, enjoying the second-hand happiness of a father's pride but another kind of happiness fills him as well.

He glances over at Skylar West as he drives, his father's words replaying in his mind.

"Don't hold on to pain, Martin," Alpha Joseph Hunter had said as he hugged his son goodbye.

"Life is too short.”

Martin had heard such words before but until this morning, he hadn't been ready to listen.

It seemed like his father had shrank a little in the last year, his frame frail and light even compared to Martin’s.

As Joseph embraced his son with the sparkle of tears in his eyes, Martin had looked past him and seen Miguel watching them and at last, father to father, he had understood that when he punish himself, he hurt those who love him as well.

No matter what they'd done, Martin wouldn't want his children to suffer as he has and he may have unknowingly caused his father more pain by staying away from him than by anything else he'd done.

So he told his father that he loved him and returned his embrace, allowing Martin to be forgiven or at least take a step in that direction.

It wouldn't happen overnight but he already felt better than he had in a very long time.

He wasn't ready to Shift, just yet but his inner wolf stirred a little, as if just waking up from a long hibernation.

Skylar had played a part in that awakening and if Martin let him, he might play a greater role, still.

He may no longer trust his heart but Martin trusts the evidence before his eyes.

He'd seen the way Skylar played with Rio and Nico, how he listened to Miguel and how he treated Flora with the respect her maturity deserved.

As for himself, Martin never thought he'd so much as go on a date again but Sky had skipped over that, slipped past his defenses and literally moved right in.

Most importantly, Skylar liked the Hunter children and most impossibly, he seemed to like Martin, too.

Most surprisingly, Martin didn't mind at all, in fact, he'd already come to rely on him.

In just a few short weeks, he'd grown accustomed to waking up to freshly brewed coffee and an extra pair of hands helping the kids get ready for school.

He no longer worried about them when they left the house, as Skylar either walked with them or gave them a ride in his van.

The sound of the young man’s hammer and the whine of power tools had become a constant and comforting, background noise as Martin worked towards a deadline he'd have had no chance of meeting without the help.

Martin was immensely grateful for Skylar’s unexpected friendship and company and the last thing he wanted was to push him away.

He'd taken the single father by surprise when he kissed him out of the blue like that but he hadn't backed down after learning about Martin’s past or the fact he is a Wolf.

Could he be so lucky?

It seemed impossible that Martin could have met someone so perfect by pure accident but that's how fate works, he supposes.

A thing barely mended is the most breakable and he never thought he'd entrust it to anyone again but Skylar may already have his heart.

***

"Would you like to see it?" Skylar asks, startling Martin from his reverie.

"Pardon?"

"I was just saying I've put the finishing touches on the loft, if you'd like a peek."

"Oh."

Through the windshield, Martin sees that they've nearly arrived home.

"Once I get the kids settled, sure."

"Of course,"

Skylar nods and turns his attention back to the road but Martin notices that there's something a little distant in his tone.

"I'm sorry if it seemed I wasn't listening," Martin says.

"I guess I zoned out a bit, there."

"No. I understand. It's been a long night. You should go in and rest. I can show you the garage another time."

"No. I want to see it. I mean, if you still want to show it to me, that is."

Martin clears his throat and wills himself to stop talking as he’s reminded why never dating again had seemed like such a good idea.

Skylar casts him a sidelong look and smiles.

"As you wish. I'll show you whatever you like."

"What's he gonna show you, Daddy?" Nico asks, as Martin turns away to hide a flush of embarrassment.

"I wanna see it, too."

"Me, too. Me, too." Rio says.

"Nobody's seeing anything until you've had a bath and a nap. That goes for all of you and if you want to watch movies or play games later, you'll do as I say," Martin adds, cutting off the collective groans that greet this proclamation.

"I'll show you all something very special," Skylar says, "But only if you listen to your father."

This tantalizing promise has the desired effect and no more objections are raised.

When they arrive home, the Hunter children grab their things and dash inside, while their father follows at a slower pace.

Skylar doesn't follow, telling Martin to join him when he’s ready.

Despite having slept in, Nico and Rio were up well past their bedtime the night before and are tired enough to fall asleep within minutes once they're clean and tucked into bed.

Having stayed up all night, Flora and Miguel are old enough to appreciate a few more hours of sleep and each retreat to their bedroom after a quick shower.

Martin rinses off as well and then, after donning a fresh set of clothes and checking in on his kids, heads out to find Skylar, who is waiting for him in front of the garage, arms crossed and leaning casually against the exterior wall.

Skylar pushes himself away as Martin approaches and greets him with a smile.

It looks as if he's cleaned up a bit as well, his long hair still slightly damp from a wash.

Piles of lumber, sheets of plywood and various tools clutter the space in front of the garage but the little building looks better already.

Skylar has painted it to match the house, fixed up the walkway and taken out the large garage door, replacing it with a solid wall.

The little side door, which now serves as the primary entrance, has also been replaced with something much nicer than the cheap press-board one the place had come with.

As Skylar opens it and leads Martin inside, he can't help but frown at the new flag-stone entryway and wood-panel floors.

"You're not spending too much, I hope," Martin says, eyeing the stylish light fixtures warily.

"You're only supposed to spend what you would in rent, remember?"

"I'm investing," Skylar says easily.

"I'm going to live here and I want to live somewhere nice."

“Still...”

The place is mostly unfurnished, as yet, with no interior walls but an area has already been transformed into a simple, yet spacious, bath.

The large, corner tub looks like it would fit two, easily.

Blushing at the unbidden thought of Skylar making use of it, Martin turns his attention to the steps leading to the loft.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Martin asks.

"Come and see."

He smiles and leads the way upstairs.

Martin follows and at the top step, draws a breath of surprise.

Given that Skylar's putting in all the work, Martin had told him he could have a free hand with the interior design.

It seems like the art teacher had taken that to heart.

He'd gone with an oceanic theme, Martin perceives, with driftwood colored floors and sea-glass blue walls.

The accents, baseboards and window frames and such, are a delicate wave-foam white.

The only furnishings so far are an enormous bed with pillows and coverings in the same palette, with a sea chest at its foot.

"This is..."

Martin blinks and turns in a slow circle.

He had imagined this as a five-year project but Sky has gotten farther in one month than he had in twelve.

"When did you do all this?"

"While you were working," he says with a smile.

"Being a semi-employed art teacher leaves me with plenty of free time."

"And money?"

Martin raises his brows at him, know from experience that even a trip to IKEA can put you back a few grand.

Skylar shrugs.

"I've had little to spend it on before now. So, don't worry, Martin," he says, placing a hand on Martin’s arm.

"I've contributed no more and no less, than I wanted to."

“But...”

Martin turns and finds himself staring up into a pair of entrancing green eyes.

"But nothing," Skylar says softly.

"I like it here and... I like you. So I'll ask properly, this time. Are the kids asleep?"

Blinking in surprise at the unexpected question, Martin nods, still caught in the tidal pull of Skylar’s gaze, who smiles, his eyes sparkling with secret amusement like the sun on water.

"Good. Well, then, Martin Hunter. Do you like me, too?"

He nods and this time, when Skylar moves forward to kiss him, Martin meets him half way.

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wroteonedad · 7 months

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Stop Making Sense (1984) Review

About 5 years ago, I went to visit my hometown after a long 2 weeks of being a fresher. I was just so exhausted from eating dry cereal and drinking a bottle of wine at every fresher pre-drinks before not going out because I didn't have a valid ID, so I went home. I'm sitting in the back of my grandparents vintage car, one so old it only has a cassette player. My grandad pulls out a handful [of tapes] and goes, this one is a classic I'm going to put it on. Below and behold, it was a cassette of the live recording of Talking Head's Stop Making Sense. I had never listened to the band before then, but I fell in love with the recording of Psycho Killer immediately. Flash forward to October 2023 where my boyfriend has taken me to the cinema to see the the 4k restoration edition of Stop Making Sense; the film begins with David Byrne on the stage. 'Hi, I've got a tape I'd like to play' and the exact version of the song I had heard on my grandad's copy of the cassette starts to play.

I know that sounds silly, but as someone who has been familiar of the band for years, but never really knew them enough to consider myself a huge fan, I was in shock. I spent most of the concert movie watching in awe, footage that had been taken originally from 4 days of playing Pantages Theatre in Hollywood in 1983. The first 5 or 6 songs have stage progression, it starts with Byrnes and his acoustic guitar and as every song plays, you watch as the stage men roll across new instruments, more equipment and more band members take to the stage to play their role in the show. It is like watching a pantomime in real time. The stage presence of every person involved was electrifying, there was constantly something to look at.

When the curtains finally fall to create a full set design, you know we're finally in the zone, the next segment of the show begins. David Byrne rotates between slim fitting to super baggy extra large grey suit, you know *the* grey suit. He swings his arms and legs around in directions that doesn't make sense, he constantly looks like a drunk man about to topple to the ground after a few too many and uses a lampshade as a swing during the film.

As far as the character of Stop Making Sense goes, it is the perfect analogy of an autistic person after three cups of coffee, I love it. Ednah Holt and Lynn Mabry, the backing vocalists for this particular tour bring in strong complimentary vocals and bringing in two big personality characters to jump along in time to David Byrne being David Bryne clamouring across the stage in all directions at once.

Jerry Harrison became every man through the film rotating between guitar and the keyboard. I remember that one part of the film where he lifts his arms up after playing on the keyboard and seeing the sweat stains the size of a country, it was so real. I was sweating just from watching them all bundle around the stage in a hot theatre with variations of lights beaming on them for an hour and a half straight. There were no breaks, there were barely time for costume changes and there certainly wasn't an encore, but it just made sense.

The closest we had for a break was when Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz became centre stage, performing Genius Of Love by Tom Tom Club, their side project. A song which I also knew of, but had no idea it had anything to do with Talking Heads, I felt flummoxed. After this song was when Byrne came back to the stage in the two piece suit which seemed to consume him.

Towards the last couple of songs is when the whole band are finally introduced to the audience, to which they then play one of their best hits and pan to the crowd dancing, laughing, having the time of their lives. Half of the audience looked like a Chad, a typical jock character you always see on the 80s cult classic movies, but the guy that stole the show was the child with the unicorn stuffed toy in his hand, standing up and watching the show.

It was impossible to take my eyes off the screen for a second and I wouldn't dare think of going for a quick toilet break during this show. You truly never knew what David Byrne was going to do next on that stage, he was unpredictable, like a child after too many blue sweets containing e numbers. He did laps around the entire stage the way I used to as a toddler after a slushie. The whole band gave a show that didn't feel like a concert itself, it felt like a theatrical show and it is very fitting that this was also filmed in a theatre.

I would also like to note that there are definitely times where David Byrne reminds me of Cillian Murphy and I also think that when Byrne was in the big suit, that he looked like a larger than life Oppenheimer.

Like I really hope this makes sense.

Also, much to my boyfriends disgust, when Jerry Harrison first came out on stage I said he looked like Nick Jonas.

And as for Tina, she really reminds me of Stevie Nicks. I think it's mostly something about the blonde hair and her eyes.

#writing #movies #movie review #stop making sense #stop making sense review #talking heads

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