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preciouslandmermaid · 12 days

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nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note: I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto x you

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fairlyang · 3 months

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Special 🕷️

you get brought up on stage (request)

w/c: 3.8K

pairing: magicmike!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. one use of y/n, ghostface mask, looks at you, chooses you, practically teasing, lap dance to the extreme, turned on x2, invited you backstage, flirting, stroking, humping, blowjob, interrupted

notes: I posted this on Halloween😭 and also this was a request by a mutual that I don’t think has found this acc yet </3

pony — song 2

It was your friend, Eva's birthday and as usual you were going to go to the club with them, but your other friend Jenna asked why don't you go to a strip club instead.

En route to your usual club too.

So the plan changed and designated driver Alivia quickly changed directions and drove to the strip club Jenna had found.

You were wearing a red lace bralette cami top with black flare pants and heels, and not a dress this time because you weren't in the mood for something tight. But now you were unsure if this was the right type of outfit for a strip club but it was too late to go change.

You had finally made it and the bright neon lights came to view after walking out of the parking lot and to the entrance. You walked to the line, getting ready to get your ids checked which surprisingly went by quickly.

You all walked in together and the inside was the complete opposite of the bright exterior of the club. It was dark and only had a few pillars with red neon lights on them.

And of course with the big stage in the middle with loads of lights. But besides that there was a bar on both opposite ends of the stage, along with lots of tables in front of it.

It was still early, barely about to be 7:30 so your group was somehow able to find a table right up front of the stage.

"No fucking way in hell do I wanna get dragged up there-" Eva says as everyone sits down making you scoff.

"It's your birthday why the fuck would you not want a hot man dancing for you." Jazmin quickly says making the rest of us nod.

"Well first of all I'm wearing a dress, everyone knows they purposely don't choose girls who wear dresses." She says matter-of-factly which only confuses you.

She notices your confusion and continues, "it'd be tougher to do all their moves with a girl in a dress."

You shrug and look up at the stage as the lights turned off, you turn to her and say, "wouldn't be the worst thing in the world though..."

Suddenly the lights come and just as Pony by Ginuwine starts playing there's a man on stage with his back turned to the crowd. He was still fully clothed but as he turned around to look at the already hollering crowd, you noticed he was wearing a ghostface mask.

And as if it couldn't get any better he started dancing while unzipping the sweater he had on, throwing it on to the floor and immediately doing some hip thrusts while he had his arms up.

You yelled along with the other women on the floor because you couldn't help it. And mainly because he deserved it.

The way he was moving his body, to the beat of the music, and in such precision, you could've sworn you were getting turned on already. He had literally just started and the worst part it's not like he was even doing this for you. And it was his job.

Which just meant he was good at it.

And looked good while doing it too.

His biceps were big and toned, you might as well have been salivating as you watched him dance and move around expertly, paying the most attention to his arms.

And his broad shoulders. He looked like a big guy and those muscles looked so fucking good.

He did more hip thrusts and spun before dropping to his knees, hands moving down his body as he slid behind him while moving his hips back and forth. Then standing up, doing a cartwheel and takes his tank top off.

More screams erupted and his torso was just as good as his arms. If not better.

You were barely able to see the six pack he had before he immediately went down to the floor and did some floor thrusts. Your mouth was wide open and your friends next to you were screaming their hearts out.

He then slid to the edge of the end of the stage he was on, sitting there for a few seconds for everyone to ogle him, lifted himself up to do two thrusts then stood up now on the stage in front of you.

He jumped on beat to the lyrics before taking off the tank top he had on earlier, out of his pants-

Your mouth was still wide open in shock because you didn't even notice he put it in there. But you quickly screamed as he threw it to your table making all of you scramble for it but birthday girl Eva was the lucky one to get it.

"Fuck yes!!" She screamed before turning her attention back to Mr. Ghostface.

He then did a few moves looking at each side of the stage before slowly taking off the mask then flipping his hair back. And of course he was gorgeous.

No surprise there.

He dragged the mask down his body before locking eyes with you. He took a couple steps back before throwing the mask behind him. He then walked forward to the front of the stage, has a hand above his eyebrows as if he's scouting out into the crowd then points towards you specifically before turning back around and does a backflip off the stage and lands in front of your table.

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you notice the lights turn off before you felt him in front of you. Surely enough you feel weight on the arms of your chair and his face in front of you. He then moves down and whispers in your ear, "do you wanna come up on stage?"

You feverishly nod before realizing maybe he can't see you, "absolutely!"

Suddenly the lights are back on and he's no longer in front of your face but between your legs. He wraps your legs around his head and then carries the chair you're sitting on up. You quickly wrap your arms behind his head as he drops the chair and in an instant holds you up by your back.

You blurt out curses as you realize how close he was to your crotch but laugh as he carefully places you down on the stage. He slyly got on the stage and his head was by your stomach before he fully brought himself onto the stage and started trusting dangerously close to your crotch.

It was full on torture but the wide grin he was giving you, might've made it worth it.

You were too afraid to touch him so you gathered up some of the bills that were by your head and waved them at him. The grin never falling from his face as he gets up, almost tripping on the loads of bills he had been receiving throughout his whole routine.

He then reached down, grabbed your hands and pulled you up. You straightened up as he brought your hands over his body, letting your trail them along his chest and abs.

You internally screamed and just gasped as you noticed how toned he was up close. And fine, this man was undeniably the hottest man you've laid your eyes on.

He then grabbed your waist and had you walk backwards until you felt something hard by the back of your leg. He had you sit down until your ass was on a chair and you couldn't believe your luck.

He began by dancing in front of you to the beat of the new song that was playing and you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together as you watch the way his body moves.

His eyes were dead set on yours and it only made this whole experience more thrilling. He moved a hand over his body before it stops at his crotch and he does a handful of thrusts to which you happily cheer for.

He then came up to you while on his knees, hands on your shoulders as his head comes up your body, almost touching your cleavage but his eyes were definitely set there before he looked into your eyes. You were mesmerized and could watch him do his thing all day if you could.

He then got on top of your chair, at first kind of squatting over your lap, running a hand over your hair then stands up with his crotch right in front of your face. Your mouth grew dry and it was just making you more excited.

He comes back down, gently caressing your cheek before he jumps off the chair then turns around facing the crowd and flips his body backwards, landing on top of your lap. You watch absolutely shocked as he thrusts on to you then grinds on you slightly before coming back up.

Your mind was already so overwhelmed and filled with thoughts you probably shouldn't be having while getting a show right in front of your eyes.

He stands up again only to do a little spin and sits on your lap, one hand on your shoulder while he brings his body backwards, then lets go but brings a leg up and over your shoulder. You left a hand on his thigh and he then quickly brings your head down towards his crotch.

You laugh again as he sits up, thrusting his hips in front of you before the lights turn dark again and he carefully brings the chair you were on down until it hits the floor. You stayed still not able to see anything until his crotch was the only thing you could see in front of your face, making your body grow hot.

You then see him move his arms forward and he brought the chair closer to him, his crotch now fully being your only view. He then used the chair as support to thrust in front of your face before he grabbed your legs, wrapping his arms around your ass then carries you up.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his waist and you had no other choice but to look at his crotch once again. You let out a shaky breath as you could've sworn you felt him give your inner thigh a kiss.

He then does some fast maneuver, somehow flipping you over his shoulder before bringing you back down to the ground. He gives you a bright smile for a singular second before he flips you back and bends you over, hands on your waist as he full on grinds against you. You held back a moan as he continued and even thrusted against you, you almost forgot there were other women watching this all, including your friends.

He then helped you back up before bringing you back down to the floor again, you laid down no questions asked. He left your eye sight, probably to do some moves for the women in the crowd before coming back crotch back in front of your face.

One thrust before he somehow flips you on to your front, pulling your hair up gently making you gasp before he thrusts into you. He then grabs you, placing you on your side, lifting your left leg up as he thrusts behind you then pulls your leg over and grinds right against your clothed (not so surprisingly) wet pussy.

You cover your mouth as the lights turn into a red and you could see the smirk on his face as if he's only now taking account what kind of reaction you've given him. Surely he was enjoying this too-

He flips over so he was back to thrusting his crotch onto your face but then flips again and drags your body across the floor and now somehow you were sitting on top of his lap looking out into the crazy hoard of women now standing up and closer to the stage.

He bucks his hips up against you then brings you down and flips you over so you were back on your back while his crotch was hovering your face, thrusting again.

He then gets off you and pulls you back up again, then grabs the back of your legs, carrying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms behind his neck. He then starts thrusting into you making you let out an accidental moan into his ear which made him laugh, "enjoying this huh?" He teases in to your ear making you laugh.

He pulls away, still thrusting and you shrug, "maybe.. could you blame me?"

"Don't think I can honestly..." he murmurs as he squats down, hands no longer on you but instead behind your back as he thrusts faster making you gasp before he stands back up.

"Maybe I can help you out." He whispers and you nod, before he places you down and finally the song was coming to its end.

He turned you to the crowd and you could only laugh and hide your face as he blew kisses and thrusted into the air for the hoard of horny women in front of you.

He grabbed your hand and walked to the end of the stage before jumping off and helping you get down. "I'll catch ya in a bit yeah?" He whispers in your ear, giving you a wink before climbing back on stage for his standing ovation.

You stood there shocked until Eva pulls you down to your chair and all your girls scream. You sat there dumbfounded, finding it absolutely unbelievable that you were somehow the chosen one.

And by a fine ass stripper at that.

You looked back up to the stage and right at that moment he gave you a wink before he slipped his ghostface mask back on and ran off backstage. You looked back at your friends and covered your mouth, eyes wide and ready to fall out still shocked. "Lucky bitch."

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life-"

"So fucking lucky-"

"He was hot as fuck-"

They all spoke at the same time and you couldn't even tell who said what because your body still felt extremely hot and now you just prayed Mr. Ghostface would come get you because he caused this mess.

Another stripper came up in a firefighter outfit but you couldn't stop thinking of that dance you just got. It was so exhilarating and your body was still feeling all tingly from his touch.

And you might as well give him a good tip because that was a once in a lifetime experience and he gave it his all.

Suddenly you're tapped on the shoulder making you turn your head to see a woman with short hair giving you a smile, "our ghostface would like to see you."

You quickly stood up waving to your friends before grabbing your purse and phone then follow the woman who led you backstage. You walked past a ton of other strippers who were getting ready to go up and who were also wearing all types of Halloween costumes.

Michael Myers was also looking pretty good...

You felt them staring right back at you and you couldn't help but question if strippers usually bring girls backstage?

That thought quickly vanishes when the woman brings you up to his door and then walks away. You knock and hear a slight, "come in."

You take a deep breath then open the door to see Mr. Ghostface putting his mask on to a mannequin head before turning to you and giving you a smile. You step in then close the door before he beckoned you.

You walked into his dressing room and gave him a smile back before opening your purse up, "that was really incredible-"

"Oh you don't have to do that." He says and walks up to you, putting his hand on yours to stop you.

"I want to!" You say and he shakes his head.

"It's alright, plus this dance felt a little... extra special than my usual ones go." He replies in a low tone making you nod slowly before letting go of your purse.

His hands were now off you but now you were just filled with curiosity. "How come?" You asked and he chuckles.

"It didn't feel like I was working, it was fun. Not every night we can say that." He says making you hum, slightly understanding him.

"But maybe you could pay me another way.." he suggests and you play dumb, shrugging.

"Like how?" You whispered and he leaned in closer to your face, sending shivers all throughout your body.

"I think you know how now don't you gorgeous?" He murmurs and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible making you place your hands to his bare chest.

"I think I have an idea." You say as you feel his hard on right up against your stomach.

"You did really do such a good job out there." You murmur as you snake a hand down his body before letting it trace around his bulge, teasing him.

He starts to breathe heavily and it only makes you more excited. "Had me shocked at every part." You whisper and finally rub your hand against him making him moan.

"Also left me wanting more..." you cooed into his ear as you started to stroke him over his sweatpants.

"It left me wanting more too as you can tell." He breathes out making you chuckle.

"You bring all the lucky girls back here?" You joke and he instantly shakes his head.

"Never do actually." He says making you scoff.

"Seriously. All the guys were shocked but you're special. Something about that out there was special." He murmurs and you stroke him faster after he's done.

"That's good to know." You coo and he hums.

"Technically no competition." You say making him laugh before he holds onto you and sits down, making you sit on his lap.

You both moan when your cunt directly rubs against him. "None at all gorgeous." He breathes out as his hands sit on your hips.

You move them back and forth while you're sat right on his hard bulge, him helping you as he lays his head back. "So fucking beautiful." He murmurs making you moan as his shaft hits perfectly against your slit.

You place your hands against his shoulders for support before moving faster, earning you the hottest moans from him. You bit your lip as you grind against him perfectly.

You then get off him and slide down his body and get on your knees in front of him, looking up at him as you play with the waistband of his sweats. "My names Miguel by the way." He says making you chuckle and smile up at him.

"Y/n." You reply before sliding his sweats and boxers off and then taking hold of his thick cock.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." He coos making you grin before you spit on it and let it dribble down before licking the tip then stroking it. You then take it in your mouth, slowly going down trying to take him while stroking his base. He moaned above you and you felt his hands guiding your head lower, to take more of him.

You let him and go as down as possible, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he bucked his hips forward making you gag before he goes back down and you pull away, slapping his tip onto your tongue.

He groaned and you took him back into your mouth, going down then back up as you looked into his eyes. He locked his gaze on to you watching as you moved back and forth as if this was your job.

He leaned his head back moaning as you took him deep in your throat again and then pulled back only to take him deep again. You were already starting to feel breathless but you needed to make this man cum.

He gave you such an incredible show you might as well repay him the best way you knew how.

"Fuck baby — taking me so good." He moans as you bob your head up and down, stroking what you can't take.

You squeezed your thighs together as your arousal was only getting more prominent in your panties. His moans were just driving you insane and were your motivation to keep taking all of him even if you couldn't breathe anymore.

"Just like that — good fucking girl you take that cock." He groans and grabs onto your head, pushing you down and having you gag on him again.

He thrusts his hips up having you gag even more before pulling away and drool slips out of your mouth and onto his cock. You stroke him fast, the wet noises of his cock filling your ears and only turning you on more and more.

"Holy fuck baby." He grunts, bringing his hand down to your face before slipping his thumb into your light which you happily sucked on.

He rolls his eyes back and pulls it away with a plop. You get back to work and bob your head much faster as you take all of him in your mouth.

Miguel leans back against the couch and feels his orgasm approaching in his lower abdomen as you gag on him more making him groan. He then pushes your head down all the way making you breathe in through your nose as you feel his trimmed happy trail tickle your nose when you feel him twitch and then drop his load down your throat.

You swallowed as much of it as you could before he finally lets go and you pull away coughing then catching your breath as you stroke him through his high, the last of his cum dripping onto his thighs.

He breathed heavily and you stopped stroking him as you watched his cock twitch the final remnants of cum drop off the side of his cock.

You let him go and he shakes his head, looking down at you with the widest grin, "I think we're even now."

You laugh and return the grin before sitting up, "maybe we are but maybe we could go furth-"

Suddenly the door swings open and you scramble to stand up while Miguel stays seated, calming his breathing when the woman from earlier comes in, "Miguel you're up again with the group."

"Thanks Lyla." He says waving her off as you stood up, a bit disappointed this was the end.

"How about we call this a rain check and next time could be outside the club?" He suggests and you nod, smiling at him before grabbing your things and watch as he stands up to change into something else.

"Well I hope you enjoy the rest of the show." He says giving you a wink as you open the door and give him a wave before walking away.

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o hara #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #atsv miguel

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evalevaeva · 7 months

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Strangers | Sieun x reader

; in which Sieun values his academics over his partner.

warning: argument, breaking up, ignoring.

eva notes! : yo this kinda hit home a little.. :] enjoy

The day seemed like the usual days. Youngbin was busy messing with Sieun and you were sitting in the seat next to him. You took the chance to glance at your significant other next to you as his ears were filled with music and the tip of his pen busy on the notebook infront of him.

"Sieun, Sieun, Sieun!" You tried to whisper-shout to get his attention as he finally took off his earpieces and turned to you, his body language calm as he waited for you to continue.

"Isn't Miss Yeon returning the test papers from the weighted assessment tests the other day?" you asked him as he nodded, his eyes still as dull as when you first met him in school.

It definitely did not go unnoticed. His cold demeanour signalled that his stress levels were over the roof once again, and he definitely was not in the mood for Youngbin's shennanigans or anything happening today.

"Everyone, please return to your seats. Let's begin with checking our assessment papers," Ms Yeon began as she walked over to the podium at the front of the class with stacks of papers, marked with red ink and big numbers on the front, the total scores.

"Miss Yeon! Who got the highest score?" A voice questioned as another student scoffed loudly, "God, you're asking that as if Sieun hasn't topped the last 20 exams since we entered this school!".

Miss Yeon took a look at the stack of papers infront of her as she smiled.

"Actually, we have a new top scorer this examination, Y/N achieved the highest score for this assessment!" Miss Yeon said with a smile as a round of applause was heard.

You looked around, ears red as you'd never have expected to be the top scorer, much more against your own boyfriend.

That was until a bang was heard.

You turned to see Sieun, hands in fists as his eyes burned holes into your face. You've never seen him this angry before, even when Youngbin had thrown a sandal at him.

"Sieun, are you alright?" Miss Yeon asked as Sieun turned to her with a blank face, and responded plainly, "Yes Miss Yeon."

You ran up to catch up with your boyfriend after school as you realised he had left without you, walking to the cram school that you both entered back in your first year of high school.

"Sieun!" You shouted as you ran to reach him, but realised he had his earpieces in, causing him to not hear you. You tapped his shoulder but was met with no response as he continued walking as if you were never there, as if you never existed. You grabbed your phone from your skirt pocket and pressed on his contact on your phone.

"Sieun, are you mad? Let's talk it out?" You texted and sent the message as you followed behind him to the bus stop to the Cram School.

Even at Cram School, he blatantly ignored you as his eyes only switched between the notebook and the large blackboard at the front of the room, ignoring any signs of you trying to get his attention. You tapped his arm, tried to move his notebook, and tried to hold his hand, and still he did not respond. It was as if he changed overnight as it was. . . terrifying to say the least.

"Sieun!" You called out to him as he walked down the path from the cram school to the bus stop to go home.

You'd had enough of him ignoring you the whole day and act as if he didn't know you. This needed to stop.

"Sieun! Stop it." You stated as he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you.

"What do you want?" He asked for the first time in the many hours you've spent together in school and cram school and all the time in between.

"You blatantly ignored me the whole day, and you have the audacity to ask me what I want? What's wrong with you? You ignored my messages, ignored me, ignored my existence, and treating me like trash. God, even trash would have to be picked up and discarded," you spoke as he stared blankly at you, as if he was, bored.

"You did this," He stated as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Did what exactly?" You questioned as his gaze became sharp.

"You knew. You knew that this was everything I had. My studies, my grades, they're all I have. Yet, you take them away from me like you don't even know me," He spat out as your jaw dropped from the absolute audacity he had to say what he said.

"You think I chose to score higher than you? Well, sorry, mister arrogant, but I studied just as hard as you did, and you knew that. Just because I scored higher than you in one assessment, it gives you the right to treat me like garbage? You're insane," you responded as you tried to remove your gaze from the stranger in front of you.

"Let's break up." Sieun stated as your eyes widened.

"Just like that?" You questioned as he turned, not bothering to answer your question at all.

He wasn't worth it anyway, right? That's what you tried to tell yourself for the next 4 weeks as days passed by like hell. You requested Miss Yeon to change your seat, away from Yeon Sieun. You did not want to associate yourself with such a jerk, and your academics shouldn't suffer because of a piece of trash like him.

A new student joined the class, and soon, Sieun was buddies with Sooho and Beomseok. Maybe a month ago, it would hurt seeing him having company with other people other than you, but now you were strangers, nothing more.

#weak hero #weak hero class 1 #yeon sieun #sieun x reader #ahn sooho #ohbeomseok #beomseok #sieun #sieun fic

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asshlyyyy · 1 year

Text

Besides You

This is for all my people who are having a rough day. I've had this in my drafts for quite some time and didn't know where to take it. I hope you enjoy this, and I can't wait to get more out to you guys! Hopefully I'll have some one-shots coming up while I continue work on the multi-part fics.

If anyone knows why my posts have been doing terribly also... let me know. My posts have been... not doing quite as well as they should be. I'm not complaining it is just frustrating when you look at your follower to like ratio. My posts are showing up in tags... I just don't know what's happening.

Masterlist

Pairing: Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x gn!reader

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, spelling and grammatical errors most likely. If I missed anything please let me know.

Word Count: 1.1k

“Hey darlin’, everything all right?” You heard Elvis speak from the door frame. You hummed and looked over at him. “Ya haven’t come down yet.” You gave him a weak smile.

“I know… just… I’m just having an off day is all.” You replied back with a simple shrug. Though it more looked like an awkward movement due to you laying down.

You felt so bad. God… you felt so so bad. It wasn’t fair to Elvis. You were extremely happy with Elvis. That wasn’t the issue at bay. Your depression just made everything worse. You had these episodes now and again. These could appear at any moment, so you could really never prepare for them, which is why it wasn’t fair for Elvis. He shouldn’t have to deal with your… illness.

“Mind if I join ya?” He asked with a slight smile on his face.

You smiled softly and nodded, “though I don’t want to hold you back, Elvis.”

“You can never hold me back, darlin’. I always want to be beside you.” He said softly and laid down on the bed next to you. You let out a break and shook your head.

“I just feel like I’m constantly holding you back.” You confessed to him. It was the first time you let those words come out of your mouth. You never told him about this. You didn’t want him to worry about you any more than he did. He looked at you confused. You brought your hand up to his shirt and played with his buttons.

“What do you mean? You’re never holding me back.” Elvis shook his head.

“Remember all those things you wanted to do? Those that you wanted me to join you with? I would say no sometimes… and then you just wouldn’t do them. I… I don't want you to not do something just because I’m not in the mood.” You explained to Elvis. He brought his hand up to your head and ran his fingers through your hair.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart. Look at ya ring finger there. What do ya see?” You looked at him confused but brought your hand up to your face. You looked at your engagement ring and wedding band.

“The engagement ring you gave me, and the wedding band that binds us together.” You answered him. You looked past your hand and towards his blue eyes.

“Exactly,” he used his finger to caress your cheek. You blushed lightly and pressed your face against his chest. “I married you because I love you for who you are. Just because ya have a few flaws don’ mean I don’ love ‘em. I love every single inch of you. From the top of your head to the ends of your toes.” He poked your stomach.

You let out a small giggle and looked up at him, “you’re so silly.”

“Only for you of course.” You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled away. You pushed yourself up into a seated position and faced him.

“Thank you.”

“Why are ya thankin’ me for?” He rubbed your thigh gently.

“Because you’ve done a lot for me.” You grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers together, “From putting up with my mood swings, joining me on my off days, holding me when I’m crying and not forcing me to speak about my feelings… to not ask why I’m crying. You don’t see me as a crybaby. You see me as a person.”

“I see you as the most perfect person I’ve eva met.” Elvis rested his forehead against yours.

“Oh stop,” you giggled lightly as you slapped his chest lightly.

“‘M being serious,” he chuckled lightly and pulled away so that he could look at you. Your e/c orbs rolled in playfulness and pulled yourself far away from him. “Without you, I don’ know where I would’ve been in ma life. As cliche as it sounds… ya shaped me into who I am today.”

“Well… you shaped me into who I am today. Without you… I could've been dead, who knows.” You shrugged and got out of bed, feeling much better than you did beforehand.

“I have a feelin’ God made it so we found each other. I believe in every universe… or different timeline… we would have found each other. We complete one another.”

“Okay lover boy, get out of bed.” You pulled the sheets off. “I have to clean these.”

“They can survive another night.”

“Elivs… these need to be cleaned. Especially after what happened yesterday morning.” You pointed out to him as you rolled the sheet over your hands.

“I have no idea what you are talkin’ about,” he said as a smirk found its way onto his lips. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the basket. You had to use whatever energy you had currently and get these chores done.

“Why don’ I help ya?” Elvis suggested. You looked over at him confused. It wasn’t like he never offered to help before, but when it came to laundry he tended to… shy away. He didn’t want to end up fucking something up. Like… accidentally shrinking his clothes, or turning his whites to pink.

“Are you sure? You can go ahead and do other things, I don’t mind.” You answered as you continued to peel the bed sheets off.

“‘M sure. I want to make this day easy and enjoyable for you.” You smiled at his kind words and looked over at him. God, you were so lucky to call him yours. You always viewed him as the poor boy you met. The fame and fortune… it was something you never saw. You viewed it more as… he got a raise. It was silly but…

You knew how stressful Elvis got when it came to fame and fortune. You also knew that he loved to spend his fortune. Especially when it came to you. He loved to shower you with new things, and you loved every minute of it. Yet, you made sure he knew that you didn’t need anything. You had him, and that was all that mattered. He was all you needed.

“You’re all I need Elvis,” you whispered, “being near you makes everything easy and enjoyable.”

“Oh darlin’,” he smiled and made his way over to you. “You’re all I need also.”

Elvis pressed his lips against yours and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You let out a light squeal before you kissed back. You brought your hands up to his face and smiled. Elvis was all you needed on a bad day.

Sorry this was so short. Sometimes, there are certain things that need to be short. Just because they are short don't mean that they don't have meaning. I know I love writing longer things, but sometimes I can't force it out of me to write longer fics.

Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

#asshlyyyy writes #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis film #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction #austin elvis x you #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis fandom

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7grandmel · 3 months

Text

Todays rip: 31/01/2024

I'll Face Gay Bowser

Season 7 Featured on: The Year of Grand Dad Sound Selection [Side A]

Ripped by eva twin

youtube

Tentative rip name: I'll Face Gay Bowser Previous rip name: Persona 64

Happy Persona 3 Reload release week, everyone! I would make this post on the date to celebrate properly, but I've got some...plans, for that day, let's say. Until then though - hey, it's eva twin again, and with a Persona rip in tow, Persona 64.

Much like the channel itself, the blog is practically swimming in Super Mario 64 rips at this point: WA-HOO DISCO, Piranha Plantsom, Super Mario 64 Submarine Ending, and of course eva twin's own previous Blessing the Dire, Dire Rains, are just some of the ones I've covered on here. But the thing is, for as frequent as they are - I never find them to grow stale due to just how much sheer creativity and freedom rippers have within Mario 64's sound. At this point, Super Mario 64's set of instruments used throughout its whole soundtrack as so iconic and immediately recognizable to it, that "Super Mario 64" is pretty much an instrument all of its own. And Persona 64 is, really, just another excellent rip showing what that "instrument" can do.

Part of what I love with rips like Piranha Plantsom in particular is just how much fun they have with the vast amount of iconic themes that are in Mario 64, almost taking you on a journey throughout the whole game - yet on the complete opposite side of that, we have rips like Harder To Breathe 64 that try to mine as much as possible out of just one of the game's themes and its core instruments. I find that Persona 64, beyond just being a banger of a rip and an excellent arrangement of Persona 4's I'll Face Myself, also serves as an excellent example of the middle ground between the two extremes. It's clearly taking after Bowser's Theme the most with the harsh, shredding-like sound that defines it taking center stage as the track begins, yet its quickly joined by the more serene, bright piano-like sound that's found in level themes like Dire, Dire Docks. Given that the original I'll Face Myself primarily uses electric guitars for most of its lead melody, it sort of feels as if the big contrast between the two instruments employed in Persona 64 was a deliberate way to bring in some of Persona 4's theming into Mario 64's soundscape - this battle between the bright optimism and hope versus the looming darkness deep within. Intentional or not, its a mood that I can't get enough of - especially in just how joyous of a note the arrangement is able to end off on as a result.

Althesame, it all culminates in one hell of a fun listen - just an all-around fantastic rip, that continues to show just how good the team has gotten at using Super Mario 64 in particular for their rips. Whilst rippers were once simply aiming to achieve authentic imitations of their source materials, the complete freedom that the game's soundscape now offers has opened up a whole new world of creative expression in terms of arranging - althewhile sounding oh so authentically like Mario 64.

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queerbrujas · 1 year

Text

okay i'm in a mood so we're gonna talk about my thoughts on the N route in twc book 3. they're not good so look away if you don't wanna read that etc etc

so i'd known for a while that i was going to have to bring in an oc that wasn't eva for this route because in the meantime i'd developed her enough and thought about her enough that she just didn't fit the route anymore anywhere other than in my head. i still tried it with her and i didn't like it one bit, but i thought hey, my own problem.

so i made a new detective.

let me tell you about tatiana.

tatiana is the definition of a uhaul lesbian. she's head over heels in love with nat, absolutely crazy for her, totally willing to gloss over any sort of conflict. exactly the kind of narrative the story wants you to go for (and we'll come back to this).

things that happened in tatiana's playthrough:

she confessed her love to nat only to get absolutely NO response, an attempt to initiate sex, and no commentary whatsoever in the narration on how nat didn't say anything back. like, i'm very sorry to mishka who seems to think that initiating sex is a satisfactory answer to that kind of thing and the Ultimate expression of love but i think a normal and expected reaction to this would be 'wait they didn't say it back'. i am NOT trying to say that N needed to say it back at that moment, before anyone comes for me, there are a million reasons why they wouldn't (i even had a theory that they'd freak out if they heard it!!!) but the fact that the narration absolutely does not acknowledge that fact is so excuse me what the fuck. i've been so pissed at this that i've been working on a fic purely out of hatred for that choice.

let's talk about the sex scenes. they're bad. i'm sorry, they're bad. not only in execution (who cares) but you are not going to tell me that what is essentially a quickie is Enough for a character who has been built up as an over-the-top romantic when it's supposed to be their first time having sex with their partner. i won't buy it. it's like mishka spent these past three years marinading in the asks about agent suavewell and how smooth and sexy and horny they are and when it was time to write the book that was all she wanted to write.

it all just feels so shallow. where is the romance, for fuck's sake. it all feels unearned. beat after beat after beat with nothing to make me care about it.

and, once again—this is playing the ideal version of this route. the 'head over heels' version of this route. i don't even want to touch the other variants that continue to exist despite it being increasingly clear they are Not how the story is meant to go. i'm absolutely someone who supports authors doing whatever the fuck they want with their stories, the fact that there's a playable MC doesn't mean the player gets to dictate every single aspect of their arc or personality, but don't offer the option of things if you're not gonna commit to it. don't tell me i can be hesitant about a relationship when the narrative is gonna fall apart if i decide to do that etc etc.

IDK MAN. i'm very very happy for anyone who enjoyed this route, love that for you, but also, what the fuck.

#twc critical #twc book 3 #silv.txt #i am Ranting with a capital R so scroll on if that's not what you wanna read

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sullustangin · 2 months

Text

Fluffy February Day 24: Apology

SWTOR

Time: Around 7.2 (after we see Arcann regretfully say he needs backup, but before we see him on Voss in 7.3); Late 28 ATC

A/N: ...this is probably a joke gone to far. Last year, I wrote Amber about Marr's lightsaber and how it was in Arcann's possession. Then, I wrote Goodbye to explain what had happened during the search for the rightful owner of the saber. And this -- this is where Arcann was between Elom and Voss. And yes, it got big enough to need a cut.

The mission report for Elom had been filed, dutifully, in the most neat and well-practiced penmanship Theron had ever seen; although regulations demanded reports be typed out and electronically submitted, he still had to admire the skill that went into this project in ink and flimsi.

The problem was that its author had not come home. Arcann was missing. Sana-Rae had arrived to provide support, and one of small taskforce Eva had assigned to help him (and monitor him) handed off the report. Arcann had disappeared.

Theron…really, really did not want to deal with this. Malgus had been captured, and there was a missing padawan and a missing holocron with probably something powerful and nasty inside. The last thing Theron needed was a missing ex-emperor.

…And then the whole situation went weird. Theron thought maybe the universe hated him. That, or Eva and her entire crew were pulling some elaborate joke on him.

Supposedly, Arcann, former emperor, had been sighted flipping burgers at some fast food joint on Dromund Kaas. It was like one of those wild claims that had popped up in the months after Senya had had the Voss heal him.

But then Talos Drellik and Koth Vortena came forward to … confirm the possibility.

Because one of the girls with tats and piercings and pink hair had said something nice about him. Years ago.

Theron wanted to bang his head against the wall. The problem with Eva and her Alliance – and Voidfleet more broadly – is that it did attract misfits. Misfits with quirks. He knew he fell into that category himself, but stars, couldn’t someone be utterly boring and come home from the mission?

So here he was, trying to be inconspicuous as he strolled through the streets of Kaas, making sure he had the right dive. Now all he had to do was wait out in the rain for the back door to open and him to get a visual confirmation that Arcann was here.

…Theron’s luck was even better than that. Arcann came out of the backdoor…

To take out the trash.

The Eternal Emperor. Garbage duty. There was a cosmic-scale joke here.

He wore the dirty, grease-stained uniform of the chain. He even had the stupid billed cap on. The door swung shut behind him –

And Theron grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall. “We’re going to make this look like some petty street dispute,” he muttered to the startled Arcann.

There was a momentary flailing, but Arcann quickly recognized him and lowered his hands. “Hello, Theron –”

“Why didn’t you check back in?” The operations manager of the Alliance – and their lead on black ops – really wasn’t in the mood for niceties. Not on Kaas.

Arcann reached up to detach Theron’s hand from his throat, which Theron allowed. “I found myself… vestigial to Sana-Rae’s work. I wrote my report, as required – “

“And then you disappeared,” Theron snapped. “You of all people can’t do that.”

Theron saw a brief flicker of temper. “Perhaps I should.”

“Excuse me?” Theron demanded.

Arcann straightened up against the rough wall of the building, trying to exude that imperial authority….while wearing a fast food uniform. “I have wondered, since the Captain’s victory over the Eternal Empire, what would become of me. I have…a liminal existence on Odessen. I am free to travel. With supervision. I continue to reside there for lack of any secure option – I’ll either be assassinated or turned into a cult figure, depending on the partisans in the area.” He motioned up at his face. “If I’m ever to be anything else other than Emperor Arcann, I must plunge myself into a completely and utterly different life.”

Theron absorbed all this. “…so the pink-haired girl flirted with you years ago, and you thought this was a great career move?”

“’Successfully committed multiple genocides in less than five years’ on the resume doesn’t really attract many employers,” Arcann returned, readily. “So…I took the first opportunity presented to me to not always be under your watchful eye. Or that of my mother.”

Theron wouldn’t apologize for that. Ever.

“I left Elom. I lied at my job interview – which took place in this very alley. I explained that my scars were from a deep fryer accident – I read about such things on Holonet forums.”

Arcann tilted his head slightly, frowned, and then said, in absolute seriousness to Theron, “Workers rights and unions are absent on Imperial planets. This concerns me greatly.”

Theron directed his gaze skyward, wondering what gods were laughing at him today. “They didn’t have those sorts of things on Zakuul either when you were running the show.”

“I was different then!” Arcann insisted, and Theron saw some flash of indignance. “I know these things should exist. I now know why they should exist.”

…Arcann was now learning things Theron had learned under Master Zho’s tutelage. About compassion without judgment, about how not everyone was safe in the galaxy, and not every state was benevolent to its people. He was over thirty now. The cure, for an adult… must have been difficult

Jedi believed in fresh starts. Otherwise, no one would ever be able to be allowed to join after escaping the Sith.

Theron wasn’t a Jedi. But…

“You’ve got to come back to Odessen. This … is not tenable.” Theron made an abstract motion to this entire, ridiculous situation.

“Not on these wages. They are not livable.”

Theron rolled his eyes, but Arcann was already untying his apron. “I have learned much…and I do want to live away from Odessen. Maybe not under my own name.”

Theron was already shaking his head. “That is a conversation for a completely different time. You need to come back. Now.”

“I will.”

Theron cleared his throat. "...I did mean it when we'd talk about this. Because you are right, you can't live forever in limbo like this."

Arcann nodded.

The two men understood each other.

...That was progress. Progress was good.

There was an awkward pause.

“…So what are you going to tell that girl?” Theron ventured.

Arcann responded with a rueful smile. “Turnover in the fast food industry is very high, which is understandable given the conditions and lack of pay. She is no longer employed here.” Then he squared up to Theron. “Hit me.”

…

Yes, this day was absolutely off-the-wall strange. “What?”

Arcann cast a look back at the eatery. “The manager will be out here to wonder where I’ve gone. He doesn’t want trouble, so if he sees me engaged in fisticuffs, he’ll be inclined to fire me – I won’t be wanted back and nobody will look for me.”

That would make everything neat and clean…

And Theron had been waiting for this for a long, long time.

So he squared up….then he paused. “Do you even know how to take a punch?”

Arcann nodded. “I did have a twin brother…we were very competitive…” Then he shifted uncomfortably. “…The Captain also decked me. Once.”

Oh yeah. Theron remembered now. “Bowdaar didn’t stop talking about it for two weeks,” Theron confirmed. Theron decided if he was only going to get one permitted hit on the guy who had stolen his wife (well, now she was his wife) from him for five years, it better be a nice big one.

The wind up….

“You do know I’m never going to apologize for this, right?”

Now Arcann smirked. “The only apology you’ll have to give is to the Captain – that she didn’t get to see this or directly participate.”

#swtor fan fiction #fluffy february #theron shan #arcann #arcann tirall

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