#gotta adjust the volume more often

[leona-florianova]

Magnus Protocol cool, but whenever there are dialogues happening in another room, I zone out and just dont hear what they are talking about...brain doesnt compute.

#magnus protocol #its the combo of accents and the almost under water quality of sound from another room #gotta adjust the volume more often

[daz4i]

listen. sometimes idm ads. i do want sites i use or youtubers i watch frequently to earn money so i can keep using/watching them, and i won't spend money myself, so this is a good compromise.

the problem is!!!!! ads make these sites lag, sometimes cover pages and make them unusable, or they clog videos and pop up so often and are so long they're practically as long as the video itself, to the point i just stop watching youtubers who have too many ad breaks even if i do like their content

and i gotta say, i don't get it? like being annoyed with an ad won't make me want to get the product - and i know that's not the point, the point is to put it at the front of your mind for when you or someone you know need the product this company provides - and i do end up clicking ads for things i find interesting sometimes

and the thing is. with video ads especially. i think smaller is better for everyone. one 5 seconds ad is so much less annoying than a 20 seconds one or even just two 5 seconds ads, even if it appears multiple times per video, bc psychologically it feels more bearable, yknow? the product is still gonna be in my subconscious or w/e but now i won't associate it with being painfully annoyed, so this is better for the advertisers too. so why not go for that!

also, sometimes ads are taken straight from tv directly to youtube (probably why some are very long), and the problem with that is their volume. like. if i'm watching smth in the middle of the night and your car insurance ad is twice as loud as the video i'm watching, i'm gonna hate it even more (a friend who learned copywriting told me they make ads louder on tv bc if you lower your volume during an ad break and tune out or just change channels quickly, it's more likely to catch your attention this way. i get that but why not just do this very minor adjustment when you sell that ad to youtube. please)

as for websites, some of these ads are so fucking evil 😭 i ranted abt this before but oh my god weight loss and especially fasting apps ads should be illegal i am not even slightly exaggerating. ads literally being malware??? not even getting into how scary algorithms can get.

and as i mentioned about lags, so many ads running at the same time, or the same ad space changing rapidly make things so slow that i once again have to wonder who's benefitting from this. i can't even see what some of the ads are bro, and i don't want to, but like, you're just losing money here, and if i know a site doesn't work well with ads enabled i will either switch to a browser with adblock (tbc, talking abt mobile here. firefox's app is shitty but necessary) or, if i can't use adblock, won't use that site anymore. so again. who's benefitting from this.

idk what the point of this rant is. ads today literally exist for the sake of existing i swear. i don't think they help sell things more at this point, which is the whole point of ads in the first place. and for smaller or newer businesses, they sometimes have to raise prices to make up for paying for their advertising campaign (drew gooden's videos about buying random items he gets ads for showcase this phenomenon well i think) which makes people less likely to buy them, and i can't help but wonder if some products would be better if their companies spent less money on just advertising them and instead actually invest in quality (see also: any shady company that targets youtubers for sponsorships constantly while having an extremely bad product, or barely paying their employees a living wage, etc)

anyway yeah these are my probably not too uncommon thoughts on the matter. have a nice rest of the day

#this isn't coherent. i just got angry over a site i'm using lagging bc of annoying ads that get in the way of using it #and somehow it turned into a lengthy rant oops #knowing multiple people who work in advertising really puts shit in perspective i think #both the whole. knowing what the actual goal of advertising is. and how algorithms and targetting work and such #and it both makes me hate it more and respect companies that don't do shady shit more #מחסני חשמל you are the only bitch i can trust in this house!!!! still not gonna buy from you tho sorry

[fanficwriter284]

THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IT WONT LEAVE…and plus it’s been awhile since I’ve mentioned Chelsea….

Gloria belongs to @twyz

Summer was on the horizon, school days beginning to number for the Ray kids. Meaning one thing…and one thing only. The end of the school year dance. An event dreaded by the youngest of the Rays. Gloria had often joked about Chelsea having a personal vendetta against dances, however now her simple joke had been cemented into reality.

“Getting ready for the dance?”

Gloria shot her head upward, still applying her accessories for the event.

"Yup"

Gloria adjusted her necklace and fluffed her vermilion locks up a bit giving them a nice hint of volume. She was about to head out of her room only to realize something...off about Chelsea. Her once confident stance and demeanor were now shrunken and slouched. Her eyes faced away from Gloria's and instead locked down to the floor. Her left foot had been scrapping against the ground, as she rocked from side to side, appearing to be very uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?"

Chelsea didn't move her head up and continued awkwardly rocking, fiddling with her fingers trying to distract herself.

"What's up?"

Finally, she lifted her head revealing her crystal baby blues, those identical to her father's.

"...I can't believe I'm asking this...it's so stupid"

"What?"

"C---Could you do my makeup.....for the dance tonight...."

Gloria's lips began to curve formulating a small cheeky grin. However, she suppressed it knowing that the idea of makeup was a foreign concept to her younger sister, and didn't want her to shy away from her.

"Really!?"

"...you know what never mind it was dumb anyways"

Gloria gently grabbed at her little sister's hand and held her there for a brief moment.

"It's not stupid! I think it's cool!"

The youngest Ray had exhaled a long sigh embarrassed by her ask, regretting it, with each passing second.

"How does it even work? And please...nothing heavy...."

Gloria excitedly nodded, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, anytime she even hinted at the idea of applying makeup or a makeover on Chelsea, the youngest would always leave. Clearly not fond of the idea. Gloria assumed Chelsea wanted a more natural look with a touch-up here and there. So, she primarily focused on her eyes adding a thin natural eyeliner, as well as light pink lip gloss adding some shine to her lips. Gloria avoided any shadows or heavy control, making it look as natural as possible with some minor tweaks.

She placed a headband on her litter sister's head a maroon one to match Chelsea's tuxedo and adjusted her little bowtie.

"Perfect!"

Chelsea hesitated before looking into Gloria's mirror and was actually happy with the end result.

"Thank you"

"Come on we gotta get a photo!"

"......Seriously"

"YES! This is like a once in a lifetime opportunity and sight I need photo evidence to prove it actually happened"

Before Chelsea could clap back with a smart remark she was pulled in by her sister into the view of Gloria's phone camera.

"SAY CHEESE"

"...CHEESE"

#Chelsea Ray #Chelsea Marianne Ray #gloria belongs to twyz #Gloria Marie Ray #Why is she going? #Well #Benny asked her

[zengroove]

In Music, like any Art, there's many different approaches. Advantages and disadvantages to any choice u make. Digital makes it easy for others to steal ya Music. Altering a Time stamp often to make it appear dey wrote it 😆 in fact a murder was solved by a guy filming his self fishing, then he altered the Time stamp n those with knowledge revealed it. Is no difficult to see. Old school has disadvantage of not Sounding as good on Digital stuff. Digital advantage of being relatively cheap, and also makes it easy to pose, or cheat by pretending to play sumpin you're not which is perfect for some. Old school has advantage to OWN the room and drown all ya cell phones right out and also doesn't require internet connection. Digital u memorize a part, get it perfect in 100 or so takes. Is fine for some. Old school play live memorize SETLIST, or Songs u gonna perform live at next gig and u get 1 take every night. When creating Art whichever way makes u more comfortable go with it while considering where u gonna play most and how u want to experience your own Sound. Once u feel 800 Watts go thru ya bones everyday then 15 Watts will no longer feel the same. Nothing like turning on a full stacc and shredding. Is therapy for me Soul u understand? Live performance will teach u a valuable lesson, u gonna miss notes, in reality nobody's perfect, every Musician has missed a note at some point the lesson is... IT'S OK U JUST KEEP GOING AND U WILL IMPROVE NO GIVE UP! Winning is merely REFUSING TO LOSE! Losing and failure is when u surrender and give up or quit. I'm comfortable with the Old School and the New School. They're not at War in me style. Digital records to media like Tumblr better, Sound good. Old School Sounds better Live imo both have their place and uses. I been to gigs the Venue gear was horrible u can bring a laptop but u running thru Venue gear sounding worse cause of it when if u had own good Amplification u can Sound much better in many Venues. As for price, over the years u can make connections. Many will work with u if u try. AMS and Sweetwater offer excellent deals and have many options allowing u to pay in a way that fits ya budget. There's really no reason not to attempt to improve ya Sound. Best way to do that of course is practice, practice and more practice and sweat and grinding. No gear will ever make u Sound better than just playing the instrument more will, that said, correct gear for your own style, adjusted as needed to ya personal parameters will make u Sound better. The Sound is ya Guide. Does it Sound good to u cause u gonna be the one using it. If I gotta play a Million Notes, I wanna play them on Brooklyn. She's comfortable and Sounds amazing. I call this Ampeg SoFi like Chargers Stadium. If I don't need her 800 Watts of shred everything on Earth I simply turn her volume down. Rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. When u find ya favorite axe, or paintbrush or canvas, or laptop, or woman 😜 u know.

#Favorite #no surrender

[korasonata]

Alright, here we are. Back by popular demand, I have favourite moments from Joe and Cleo’s paper model stream Part 3! Y’all asked for this so here we go. (Definitely not a short post anymore)

—

Cleo (singing): Excellent choices!

Joe (singing): Made by me! Made by you!

Cleo (talking): I mean, I wouldn’t say this is an excellent choice made by us. Just as a-

Joe (still singing): As long as we stream together! Nothing can ever stumble us both at once!

Cleo: I mean, I think you’d be surprised.

Joe: There’s nothing we can’t achieve! You and me!

Cleo: …Yeah.

—

Joe: Why’d you leave the cat up on the table?

Cleo: Because she won’t go away! She knows she’s not allowed on the table, but I’m here and therefore it must be awesome.

Joe: Mhm. Yeah usually when I climb on a table it’s because you’re there. This is why my viewers are always like “Joe, Cleo brings out such negative behaviour in you.”

Cleo: *cackle laughing* It’s true. It’s true.

Joe: It is.

Cleo: I am a bad influence on you.

Joe: I mean, you could have just ended that sentence after influence, but you know it’s fine.

—

Cleo (affectionately): Joe you are rude today! I think that’s the second time you’ve insulted me in like 5 minutes.

Joe (not even 2 minutes into the stream): What, already?

—

Joe: You know, you’ve had so many jobs in your career. Obviously night surgeon is going to be the next one.

Cleo (holding a scalpel menacingly): *maniacal snickering*

—

Cleo: *leaves for literally less than 2 minutes*

Joe: *singing The Wellerman at full volume*

—

Joe (reading chat): Is Cleo next to me? You know, I like to think that Cleo��s always a little bit ahead of me, but it encourages me to catch up.

—

Cleo: I mean, to be fair, most things could be me. For I am- for I am…(with drama) I am legion! For we are many!

Joe: Hell is empty! And all the Cleo’s are here!

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Does Joe know what you look like?”

Joe: No…

Cleo: I could send you a photo if you wanted Joe. If you really felt the need.

Joe: See, I- I- I felt like, you know, asking like, uh, women on the Internet to send me pictures of themselves might be a bad look, so I have chosen not to ask? But…I mean if you’re volunteering I am curious- especially because if I am in London and I do bump into you somewhere, it would be nice to be able to say hello.

Cleo: Fair enough. Hang on a second.

Joe: But I am hoping to get over there like next summer.

Cleo: Let’s see if I can find a pho-I don’t tend to take photos of myself because I don’t like showing myself-…ever. So…let’s browse some photos, see if I can show you.

Joe (panicking): …Oh! Are you gonna send it like right now so you can get a reaction, cause my fa-my face is on camera?!

SILENCE

Cleo: There you go. That’s me.

—

Joe (in response to seeing Cleo’s face for the first time): so you’re so- you’re so private about your appearance, I don’t wanna say anything that, like, that could be used to interpolate anything.

Cleo: You can just say I’m minging it Joe, it’s fine.

Joe: What does minging it mean?

Cleo: Ugly as all hell. That’s basically what that is.

Joe: What?! No!

Cleo: It’s fine! I know…

SILENCE

Cleo: *laughing* I’ve made Joe feel awkward now, that takes a LOT to do! *laughing harder*

Joe: No no! No! No! So the thing is I’m running through the, like, security mode threat model thing where I’m like “ok, so Cleo definitely benefits from people thinking shes ugly, so I don’t wanna like mention how attractive she is because then that gets that weird in multiple ways while also revealing that she’s very attractive which th- somebody could use to track her down” and I’m just like, eh I’m just gonna let this one slide.

—

Joe: I have tried a few adjustments Cleo, but in the end I never made it as a wise man.

Cleo: I mean-

Joe (singing): I couldn’t cut it as a poor man stealing.

Cleo: To be fair, you do strike me more as a- as a… (trails off)

SILENCE

Cleo: I was trying to think of a non-insulting…

Joe: Just go ahead and insult me, it’s fine.

Cleo: I- I- ah-

Joe: You’ve already insulted yourself enough this stream.

Cleo: I see you as a sheep is what I said.

Joe: What?

Cleo: As in not a wise man, not a shepherd, you’re a sheep in that nativity.

Joe (delighted): Awe!!

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Do you often lie to spare Joe’s feelings?” Umm…

Joe: N…no.

Cleo: Not often no. *giggling*

Joe: I mean, she doesn’t have to. I’m great.

Cleo: No, it’s alright, Joe doesn’t have feelings it’s fine. I mean, not that I’ve noticed.

Joe: if Joe had feelings we’d have to start acting ethically around him, so it’s in our best interest to ensure that research does not detect any.

—

Cleo (reading her chat): “I just wanted to say your voice is very pretty”. I don’t know how to take that.

Joe: Oh, thank you!

Cleo: I think Joes voice is very pretty. I appreciate that.

Joe: I was gonna say, they know that you’re not me, right? I know it’s confusing cause we’re both talking on both peoples streams.

Cleo: I mean, I think- I think they might know that you are the pretty one.

—

Joe (reading chat): “not gonna lie, I’m kinda jealous of those glasses.”

Cleo: Umm…in the fact that they’re on Joe’s face? Or just-

Joe: Oh yeah, you know everybody’s jealous of anything on my face, I get it.

Cleo: *wheezing intensely* Yes Joe… *cry laughing* No, I’m done… *laughing continues* Ok… *trying desperately to compose herself*

—

Cleo (about Scar jump scaring Joe): Again, if you haven’t seen Joe scream like an itty bitty baby-

Joe: I’m sorry, babies don’t have lungs this powerful. I screamed like a man. Screaming like, very loudly.

—

Joe: I’ve gotta do this 3 more times and what’s deeply deeply upsetting is I know I’m gonna do an equally bad job every time.

Cleo: No!! No! I believe in you Joe!

Joe (with heavy dead-voiced sarcasm): I’m sure the 4th one will be perfect Cleo, you’re right. I should’ve believed in myself all along. Thank you. For those words. Of affirmation. They mean so much. Coming from such a close friend.

Cleo: I dunno about you chat, but I definitely felt sarcasm.

—

Cleo: I’m crushing it right now! I wish I wasn’t. *dejected* Why do I always hurt the things I love?

—

Cleo (entertaining Joe’s chat while he’s away): Do you think Joe grants wishes? Because if he does grant wishes, I don’t think it’s the wishes we think he’s gonna grant. I mean, it would explain Joe, because he could grant wishes in the way that, umm…Hmm…I’m thinking…

Joe: I’m back Cleo if you need me to grant you any wishes.

Cleo: I mean, could you?

—

Cleo: Awe! Practical Magic was one of my favourites when I was growing up!

Joe (heavy sarcasm): I can’t imagine why!

Cleo: *snickering* I built my whole life around it. *laughing* shut up Joe.

Joe: *snickering* Surprising no one!

Cleo: SHUT UP JOE *laughing*

—

Cleo: To be fair, if Joe really didn’t like me threatening him I would stop.

Joe: Yeah no it’s fine.

Cleo: See?

Joe: It makes me feel important.

Cleo: You are Joe. You are very important.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombiecleo #zombie cleo #joehills #joe hills #quotes

[weasleypogues]

help pt.2 (r.c.)

after lots of requests asking for a part two!! i decided fuck it and to make it! hope u all enjoy! :) xxxxxx

part one here if you haven’t read it already! 

masterlist.

after being in a relationship with rafe for a year now, you know how he handles his feelings and rationalizes them. it’s simple, he doesn’t. you’d watch and hear about him getting into fights with his sisters which was normal for siblings but you can see how he blew them out of proportion. 

you knew for one thing that you weren’t in this relationship to solely be his therapist and fix him but you loved him and you help the ones you love. even if that means acknowledging that they may be in the wrong and helping them come to that realization to rationalize it. 

however, no matter how many times you helped him and talked through everything with him, there were some nights in which a conversation was no use. there were only so many times that he felt as if he deserved help and other times where he resorted to drugs and drinking to ease his thoughts. 

even though watching him blow your date off and throw a party as an excuse to push away his thoughts, you still cared for him. so when you walked away you didn’t hop in your car and speed off, but you invited yourself inside the large and dark house. you tiptoed your way to his room, not fully knowing who was home and who was asleep. 

you found yourself in front of his door and placed your hand on the knob, turning it slightly and hearing the familiar creak of the hinges. you smelt the faint hint of the shower he had taken after you left and before the party. your eyes easily trailed the the outfit at the foot of his bed. it was not the outfit that you left him in and came to the conclusion that this was the outfit he was going to take you out in. you took a few steps to that outfit and lightly let your fingers trail along the stitching and buttons of his shirt, finally grasping it as tight as you could as you felt a lump in your throat form. 

“(y/n)?” you heard a faint voice call out. you spun around and were face to face with wheezie who had her hair in two french braids and in her pajamas. she shined her phone in your direction to get a better look. you softly smiled and walked towards her, taking her in for a hug.

“hi wheeze. sorry, did i wake you?” you asked thoughtfully, pulling away and taking your shoes off in his doorway to throw them to the side. she put down her phone as her eyes finally adjusted to the moonlight shining in. 

“nope, i could feel the bass bumping outside from here.” she chuckled. you looked into her soft brown eyes for a second and felt a tinge of guilt. you always tried to sympathize with everyone and put yourself in their shoes. you couldn’t imagine how wheezie felt. this was not the easiest household to grow up in, regardless of how it looks on the outside. she was only thirteen and already had her heartbroken. by her brother and father. and no matter how many times they pushed her to the side in their own frantics, she still put on a brave face and loved them. she was not as in the dark as she let off to be. she was intelligent and knew how to formulate her thoughts and actions. 

“oh shit yeah, i’m sorry.” you apologized on behalf of rafe. she gave you a soft smile and shook her head, allowing one braid to fall from her shoulder to behind her back.

“don’t apologize for him, this is nothing new.” wheezie laughed off. you smiled off the situation as well, just accepting it at this point.

“what do you say we go out into town for brunch tomorrow? you and i?” you inquired, as a way of letting her know that you were there for her. because if you were there for rafe, you had to be there for everything that came from this relationship, and that meant his little sisters. a big smile grew on her face that warmed your heart and she nodded her head fast.

“totally down! i’ll start looking up cute places on google and let you know!” wheezie exclaimed, trying to contain some of her excitement. she turned around and excitedly ran back to her room upstairs. you closed rafe’s door, not all the way in hopes of letting some light from the hallway in. 

making your way to his bathroom, you invited yourself to some of your toiletries that he practically begged you to keep here as an excuse to stay over more often. you grabbed make up wipes and your toothbrush and settled yourself before grabbing a tshirt of his and sliding off your dress. you placed your phone on the nightstand next to the bed, claiming your usual side of the bed before sliding under and shutting your eyes.

this slumber, if you could even call it that, felt like at least ten minutes when rafe had woken you up by barging through his door at least three hours later. your eyes fluttered open and tried their hardest to adjust quickly to the hallway light he was letting shine in your face. his glossy eyes lazily landed on your body under his covers and you swear you could see his shoulders relax. you gave your body a slight stretch and grabbed onto the top of the blanket and opened it up as an invite for rafe to hop in. rafe kicked off his shoes and stumbled his way to bed, which made your heart hurt a little.

“i thought you went home.” he slightly slurred, his eyes closing. he was lying on his back with the arm further from your resting on his forehead. the room must be spinning right now. 

“i thought about it and maybe i had every right to, but i didn’t want to leave you.” you responded, in a mousier voice than you realized as this was the first words to leave your mouth since you woke up. 

“why not? i fucking blew you off tonight. it was shitty.” he answered truthfully. you took a second and watched his chest rise and fall as he awaited an answer. you knew you were not here to be his savior but you were here to love him. 

“it was shitty...but. but i know it’s because your psych yourself out and maybe feel like your in a valley rather than a peak. when your in peaks i love to see the smile on your face and make all these great memories with you. but when you’re in valleys, that is not the time for me to run and let you deal with everything on your own. i’m here to back you up and love you for you.” you responded, keeping your eyes on his rising and falling chest and letting your hand make it’s way to the center of it, feeling the faint beat of his heart. he took the free hand he had and grabbed your hand from his chest and kissed the top of it. 

“i love you, (y/n).” rafe whispered, leaning over and kissing the top of your head. you both instinctively snuggled closer to each other and you could feel him squeeze you protectively. the moonlight and body warmth helped both of you fall asleep rather quickly. 

--

waking up to the sunlight in the room shining through his two windows was almost as comforting as the fact that you woke up on your stomach with your hand still placed on his chest and his own hand resting on top of that. you could still feel the faint pitter patter and smiled softly to yourself. you slightly sat up to check the time on his nightstand where his clock sat. 9:17. you rolled your eyes playfully, thinking of the last time you saw that time, was last night when you hopped out of your car in front of his house. circumstances and conversations were different. 

you slowly slid out from under the covers and made your way to the bathroom to freshen up quickly and grabbing a pair of his basketball shorts before heading to the kitchen for some water. grabbing a glass and filling it as quietly as you could you heard faint footsteps grow in volume as they entered the kitchen. you swiftly turned around and saw sarah walk in, opening up the fridge.

“mornin’.” sarah said, groggily and grabbing pre-made cold brew out of the fridge. you smiled softly as you brought the glass once at your lips down to the marble counter.

“morning. wheeze and i are going out to grab brunch if you wanna come out and make it a girls day!” you stated, lightly tapping your fingers against the glass. she made a face with a smile that looked like she was considering it and raised her eyebrows.

“i think i’ll take you up on that offer.” sarah responded, running a hand through her bed head and taking a sip. you smiled and felt slightly relieved, you and sarah were always nice to each other and were once even close but her and rafe’s relationship made you nervous to overstep. but you had to admit you missed how close you two were. 

making your way back to rafe’s bedroom, you noticed his eyes fluttering open and he stretched, groaning in the meanwhile. he brought his hands to his head and rubbed his temples. 

“need some advil babe?” you chuckled, grabbing the pill bottle from his dresser and going to hand him your glass of water. he groaned in response. as you handed the pill bottle to him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in to bed. you couldn’t handle the scream that escaped your lips as you accidentally poured the water from your cup on the both of you. 

he grabbed the cup and put it on the nightstand and wrapped his hands around your waist. rafe began planting kisses all over your face until you pulled away with a giant smile and realized you were straddling him. he smirked and checked you out before making his way back up to your eyes.

“i can get used to this sight.” rafe flirted and you felt your cheeks go hot as you rolled off of him. 

“i gotta get ready.” you stated, chuckling and getting off the bed. you watched him dry swallow two ibuprofen and look at you with a shocked look on his face.

“get ready?” rafe said exasperatedly, lifting his torso off his bed and sitting up. you playfully rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone off the bed next to him. 

“indeed. i’m having a girls only brunch with your sisters.” you said, flashing him a cheeky smile. he groaned and rolled his eyes, letting his body fall dramatically back on his bed. “oh, don’t be dramatic.” you heard his chuckle slightly fade out and you glanced over at him as he stared off into space.

“can you come back here later? or maybe i come to you? help me figure some of this “seeing someone to talk to” shit out. i don’t think i can do it alone.” he muttered, clearly a little embaraassed to admit it. you did not hesitate to walk over to him and grab his face in your hands before planting a kiss on his lips.

“anything for you, my love.” you whispered in front of his face and looked longingly into his eyes. you appreciated softer moments like this that reminded you of the sweet times you both had together. you pulled away after one more kiss. “i’m with you every step of the way.” 

you stuck your pinky out to him and he again, playfully rolled his eyes, attempting to withhold the display of the oncoming smile on his face. he linked his pinky in yours and you both kissed your thumbs.

“i’m with you every step of the way.” he repeated. you both unlinked your fingers but let your hands graze each other as you walked closer to his doorframe. 

“sarah, wheezie! ready whenever you are!” you yelled up, hearing two pairs of footsteps only a few moments after. you looked back and rafe winked at you as he put his hands behind his head. you laughed and caught up with his sisters in the foyer.

you were with each other every step of the way.

#obx #obx imagines #obx x reader #obx headcanon #john b routledge #topper thorton #jj maybank #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #wheezie cameron #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #Outer Banks #outer banks imagines #outer banks masterlist

[silv3rswirls]

Learning Experience part one

Professor Namjoon Smut

Anon asks: Yay!! Requests are open again 🥳Okay okay.. Professor Joon getting a blowjob from student! reader. 🤐 by blowjob i mean using their throats as a fleshlisht 👀Gotta have the dirty talk and degradation. 🥺 Please, bit heavier and dirtier this time 🥺 (consensual but it depends on you. No pressure 😅) 😋 Oh and add anything please add the spitting kink you like. Thanks for bearing with me btw 👉👈❤️❤️ Have a nice day ❤️❤️ this is gonna be fun 👀👀

NOT PROFESSOR JOON! Kinky anon you need to stop hitting all my favorite kinks. It’s a problem- are you reading my mind over here? 

Warnings: Female reader, student/professor, dirty talk/degradation, blowjob, spitting, slight corruption kink

Word Count: 1.5k

nsfw below the cut!

It was safe to say that Kim Namjoon was one of the most attractive professors at your college. It seemed that all the girls who took his class swooned for him. Personally, you had never seen all the excitement over him, that was until you took his class. The truth was that Namjoon was undoubtedly attractive. Tall with swept-back hair, professional, and he had one of the most beautiful dimpled smiles you had come across. Not to mention his voice; a rich and velvety tone that you could listen to his lecture all day.

You liked to think of yourself better than falling for your professor, but clearly, you were wrong.

As hot as Namjoon was, his class was tough. He was a serious teacher who didn’t believe in babying his students and you liked that about his class, but halfway through the semester, you found your grades beginning to slip. Once they fell it was hard to get the backup, trapped under a mountain of reading and assignments you found yourself close to failing. Namjoon normally didn’t keep a close track of his students grades, nor did he call them in to talk about them. Once you had noticed him holding a student back to discuss his grades, but other than that it seemed everyone was supposed to fend for themselves. So, when he told you to stay behind you were quite surprised, and nervous. You talked about your grades, even about some extra credit. You weren’t entirely sure what led you to be on your knees under his desk with his dick in your mouth, but you weren’t complaining.

After that encounter you noticed Namjoon being a tad more lenient with your work, just a bit, but you took whatever you could get. And while you wanted to lie to yourself and say that blowing him after school hours was an isolated occurrence deep down you wanted it to happen again. You had dated before, but nothing ever crossed into the bedroom. Your professor being one of your first sexual experiences was, well, exciting. Namjoon clearly knew what he was doing and didn’t seem to mind you fumbling through your first blowjob. The dirty things he told you with that deep voice of his had been music to your ears, and you wanted more. So you asked to speak to him after class and it happened again and you waited anxiously for the next time he would tell you to come to him after school. 

It seemed that today was your lucky day. You were currently sitting before him, knee’s growing sore against the hard floor as you bobbed up and down his length. His hand was tangled laxly in your hair, occasionally you found his fingers tense, debating whether or not to pull your hair or not. It was one of the few things you noticed when the two of you got together, he seemed to be holding back what he really wanted. He treated you softly, may be unsure if he should take things to a rougher place. You were a stranger to most things that weren’t considered vanilla, but you wanted nothing more than to please your professor. You pulled away from him, adjusting your position before looking up at Namjoon, who stared back with a quirked eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” 

You shook your head, “nothing’s wrong” you muttered, feeling yourself grow a bit embarrassed to bring it up. “It’s just...if you want to be rougher with me, you can.”

“Oh really?” he asked, his hand coming to cup your face, thumb swiping away the dribble of saliva at the corner of your mouth. “You want me to be rough?” He asked again, his deep voice making you squirm in place. You blink up at him, worried at the tone he had taken. 

“Only if you want…”

To your surprise, he smiled, “you’ll do anything to please me, hm?” He hummed, pulling you in closer and tipping your head to stare up at him. “What a whore” he grinned and you bit your lip to hide your smile. You had never known how much the world of degradation and dirty talk turned you until you started your little escapades with your professor. He pulled you back onto his dick, telling you to tap his thigh twice if things became too much. You hummed, sure that you wouldn’t be stopping him. Giving Namjoon pleasure had become one of your favorite pastimes and it only worked to turn you on more and more. 

Namjoon grabbed the back of your head to push you down further. Obediently you opened your mouth wider to take him all over him and you shuddered when you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. He held you there for a moment, letting you adjust and get your breathing in control. Namjoon took a moment to take in your expression, side innocent eyes gazing up at him with tears beginning to brim them. “Such a pretty slut” he sighed, tightening his grip on your hair before starting to move you up and down his shaft. You tried your best to keep your jaw slack, but you couldn’t help the little coughs and sputters escape. He didn’t stop though, increasing his speed and building apace. “Don’t worry” he cooed, “we’ll get rid of that gag reflect, won’t we?” He hummed at the warm tongue running along his shaft and your throat constricting now and again. “Such a whore, letting your teacher use your face like this.” he peered down at you, the sight of your choking and gasping made him bite his lip, not ready to climax and end the fun just yet. Small tears bubbled in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as he used you. “Letting me use you just so you pass” he repeated, “too much of a dumb slut to do the work yourself, have to suck me off instead. You like this better don’t you slut?” You squealed in shock when he titled your head up a little more and spat onto you, mixing with the tears falling down your cheek.

If you were able to, you would’ve nodded. You were almost ashamed to admit how often you thought about your professor using you like this. You thought about how many times you had sat down to do your work at home, only to let your thoughts drift to Namjoon and your times together and get too turned on to keep working; devolving to desperately trying to get yourself off at the thought of him and wishing he would just bend you over his desk and fuck you. Without warning, you felt Namjoon still his movements as he shot his load into your mouth, pulling you off halfway and letting a few strings of cum hit your face. Namjoon groaned, watching a mix of cum and spit dribbled down your chin and onto your clothes. Namjoon wished his phone was near him so he could take a picture of your red and teary face, cum, and spit dribbling down and your hair a tangled mess around it. 

Before you could even get up to clean yourself off you felt Namjoon push you roughly under his desk as someone knocked on the door. Worry bubbled up in your chest as you heard one of the other professors walk in to ask Namjooon a few questions. You pressed your back against the desk, trying to get rid of the discomfort of your position. Namjoon talked back casually as if he hadn’t just been using you like a toy. You chewed on your lip, shifting at the wetness that had pooled between your legs. Namjoon’s foot tapped you lightly when a small whimper escaped you. You gasped, his shoe coming to press between your legs. You gripped at his thigh as he rubbed your cunt. You tried your best to conceal your moans and gasps, waiting desperately for the other professor to leave. 

Finally, when the door closed and the two of you were alone again Namjoon pulled away from you. He peered down at you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “So eager to get off on my shoe?” Your face was bright red and you gave a shy nod as he pulled you up, pushing you to sit on the edge of his desk. His hands massaged over your thighs, slipping under your skirt in no time and yanking your panties down. You whined, his fingers slipping into you his thumb rubbing your clit quickly. You squirmed and moaned under his movements, “you want to cum?” He asked and you nodded, muttering a tired and whiny please in response. “Look at you, all covered in my cum and spit, begging for me to let you cum. God, you're so desperate, come on and cum slut.” You moaned, trying to keep your volume down as you came all over his fingers. Namjoon smirked, watching you fall apart before him. You felt him brush your hair back from your face, his hand moving to pet your hair as he took in your appearance. “Come see me again tomorrow” he grinned, “there’s still a lot to explore with you.”

You nodded tiredly, already too excited to wait for tomorrow’s lesson.

#bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut #bts smut #smut #kinky anon

[tg-headcanons]

HIDEYOSHI NSFW ALPHABET PLEEEEESE

HORNY HOURS FOR BLONDE BOY this is just hidekane really “partner” is Kaneki

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he’s SUPER sweet, the second he’s done he’s already cleaning his partner up and showering them in praise

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): on himself he likes his arms, he thinks he’s way more jacked than he is. On his partner (cough cough Kaneki) he likes the Kagune. Don’t judge him it’s sexy

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he shudders when he does it. It’s sort of cute the way his whole body shows when he finishes

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he’s REALLY into kagune. Like disgustingly into kagune. It started with “oh that’s pretty cool biologically” then “hey this is cute” then “hey hypothetically could you jerk me off with your tentacles?” By now he’s gotta accept that the second his man brings out the kagune he’s harder than the SATs

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): a little. A girl here and there at school or at parties but hasn’t been with anyone in a solid relationship before. He knows what he’s doing when it comes to pace and keeping the mood, and he studies a lot on how his to make his partner feel good just to be sure he does well for them. Honestly he studied what brands of condoms are better or what positions are the easiest on his partner better than he studies for anything he’s ever had a test in

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): he likes anything really, but different ones have different perks. Butterfly or lotus is great for that sweet, intimate sex with lots of kissing, but doggy is good for getting deep in his partner or when helping him through his heat

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he’s constantly joking. Almost every time they fuck he and Ken now have a stupid inside joke. Now whenever someone mentions Cadbury eggs they exchange a look due to That Thing Hide Said After Kaneki Came In Him

H = Heat (what are heats like for them? How do they handle it?): when he becomes a quinx he starts getting them. They’re very mild compared to full a ghoul’s but he’s still got cramps and muscle weakness and The Big Horny. He and Kaneki just go to a hotel and have a whole ass fuckfest for a week. By the time their heats sync up they’ve both got reservations made and the calendar marked. Even though it’s Oof Ouch Cramps they look forward to it since it means they can have a little getaway

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he’s very romantic. He keeps things light, but still makes sure his partner knows how much he cares about them

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): surprisingly, not that often. He used to do it two or three times a week, but since he started dating ken he mostly deals with his urges with him, but will still jerk off if his partner isn’t in the mood or they aren’t together. Those memories of having their lips wrapped around his cock go a long way

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): he likes having his partner wear something. Ropes, a collar, even a piece of clothing or jewelry. Anything that he put on them or asked them to wear gives him a rush, he loves the feeling of his partner letting him control what on their body. He likes to tease and pamper, why not give them a cute thing to wear while getting their back blown out?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): hotels. He loves doing it anywhere he can, but there’s something about a fancy room he doesn’t have to think about cleaning all laid out for the two of them to fuck in that can’t be topped

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): seeing his partner flustered. He’ll tease and praise them until they’re a blushing mess, and at that point he’s raring to go

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): he can’t be mean. Teasing is fine, maybe a few joking insults, but any actual degradation or role play where he even conceptually crosses a boundary is too far for him. Even if his partner wants it, he’d feel guilty and need to stop

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he likes giving a little more just for the opportunity to tease. There’s no feeling quite like having his partner in his mouth just teetering on the edge of climax

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he starts excruciatingly slow to let his partner adjust even when he’s sure they’re fine, but once they let him know they can take it he fucks like a rabbit. Call him Lightning McPeen because he is speed

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): yes. Just yes. He’ll ask over and over if his partner is really okay with it because he doesn’t want to pressure them but DAMN does he want to fuck them somewhere where they might get caught

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he’d try anything and everything, but the only thing he worries about is feeling like he’s pressuring his partner. Even if they both completely consent to something, no matter what, he’s going to check with them over and over to be sure they’re really okay with it. Anything is fine as long as he’s given a heads up so he can prepare for it and maybe read up on it to make sure it’s done safely and right

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): he can go for awhile, Kaneki better watch out. R I P that bussy ayy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he has some bondage rope for the rare occasion he and his partner plan out some rope play, and he has a muzzle. That’s a long story

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): CONSTANTLY. He will make his partner beg without even telling them to, he’s good at teasing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): mostly some deep moans, but he can get a little giggly sometimes. It’s not uncommon for him to give a few excited chuckles when things are getting heated

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): for Kaneki’s first heat, he was given a cage muzzle to stop him from biting a chunk out of Hide. They used it. Then they didn’t stop. It’s surprisingly hot to muzzle his boyfriend, he looks cute muzzled like an obedient puppy and he likes giving that control to Hide. Whenever they’re looking to spice up their time together, their first thought is always that

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Hide Is hung like a fucking centaur. 8 inches and thick, he can kill god with that

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): more or less average, but with his partner he’s of course going to be more likely to be turned on

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): not too fast. He’s always awake enough to give aftercare, and cuddles for awhile before passing out

#tokyo ghoul #hidekane #ken kaneki #hideyoshi nagachika #tokyo ghoul headcanon #notsfw alphabet #notsfw

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 7

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

sdfsfdgdfgf

^^^^^ my actual thoughts after writing this.

There was no denying that he was still thinking about that Saturday night. The feeling had been extraordinary. It’s been some time ever since he felt like this, but there was also something more. And he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

First thing he did on Monday when getting to work was to lock himself in his office, his thoughts empty as he repeatedly drummed a pen against his desk, his gaze hardly focusing on anything. He did call for someone though at some point, taking this waiting time as an opportunity to collect his thoughts into something comprehensible.

Some knocks were heard at the door, a single “yes” escaping Donnie, an approval for the newcomer to come in. Next came into view another turtle adorning a red do-rag, this one much more massive when compared to the bespectacled mutant. It was none other than Raphael, the muscular terrapin a rare sight in the building as he was often more out to meet clients than stuck behind a desk.

“What’s up?” he started, closing the door behind him. “I’m on a tight schedule, so it better be important.”

Raph did frown a little as he noticed his brother’s composure, the purple clad mutant’s eyes speaking volumes.

“I, uhm... I need some advice,” finally said Donnie.

“What kind? A client’s giving you troubles?” added the other, taking a seat.

Donatello tsked, quickly waving that query away: “No, I know how to deal with those. ... It’s more of a personal matter. A... relationship one.”

Raph’s eyes widened a little, then relaxing his stance with an amused smirk.

“Well, well, well... back in business, I see? I thought that receptionist situation would keep you out of the market for quite some time.”

“Oh please, that girl was crazy. I’m just glad she moved out of the city. ... It’s been more than a year, I’ve moved on.”

“What’s the matter then?” added the red clad terrapin. “You forgot how to socialize or somethin’?”

Donnie quietly chuckled, leaning back in his chair, then thoughtful.

“Oh no, I’ve been socializing, alright... I just don’t want to fuck it up, you know? Things have been going so well now and on this last Saturday we took it a lil’ further-”

“How much further?”

“We kissed.”

“Bro, that’s nothin’.”

Tension was broken for a moment, both brothers snickering. That did help Donnie and calmed his thoughts a little.

“Who is it though?” next asked Raphael. “Someone working here or... ?”

“She’s a project manager for our creative team. She got here from Montréal a couple months back and we met one night by pure coincidence as we were both working late. Her name’s Véronique, but I call her Vee.”

“Oohh, already on a nickname basis, now that’s a feat,” teased the other.

“Please, she asked me to call her like that on the first night we met.”

“Ay, you know I’m just pokin’ some fun at you. ... What’s the matter, then? Why aren’t you talking about that to Leo or Mikey?”

“Because,” started Donnie. “Leo would try to dissuade me into pursuing this relationship, and Mikey well ... you know him. He’d say: ‘Invite her to my place and have her swim in the pool. Girls love pools!’,” mimicked the purple clad mutant. “... You know he’d only want that so he can have a look at her as well. I ain’t having none of that shit.”

Raph laughed once again, acknowledging those statements.

“And, to be frank,” added the bespectacled one. “I value your judgement. You get straight to the point and that’s what I need right now.” He leaned foward a little on his desk, hands joined. “So my concern is; what should I do next? We have interest for one another - we openly expressed as much. We obviously have a good chemistry together... but how do I know she’s the one? ... She feels different from anything, anyone, I’ve ever been with before, may it be in terms of relationships or not.”

“Easy,” shrugged Raph. “Have sex with her.”

“Raph!”

“I’m serious! ... You wanna know if she’s the one? Show yourself vulnerable before her. If there’s something more between you two, it’ll click.”

Donnie sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them in slight annoyance.

“Okay so what, I just have to sleep with her, no strings attached? I hope you’re not suggesting for me to force myself upon her.”

“Hell no, stupid. I said be vulnerable, not a psycho,” frowned the red clad mutant. “Look ... you wanted my opinion, there it is. I believe in deep connections, and if right now you’re already feeling something special between you two, I don’t see what’s bad about wanting to explore that and see if there’s truly something more. ... Also, people can fuck for the fun of it, I hope you know that?”

Donnie exhaled sharply, half of a smile next on his lips: “I suddenly regret asking for your opinion, but I do see your point.”

“I’m sure you can be a gentleman about all of that.”

“My brain turns to goo whenever I’m with her. I try not to show it, but damn... I don’t think she’d get to that point though, I don’t know...”

“As long as it naturally gets there, that’s what matters. ... Those things are felt, Donnie. I’m not saying to rush it, but rather to not be scared.”

The purple clad one conceeded, lowkey admiring his brother’s wisdom about the matter. He finally rose from his seat, inviting Raph to do the same.

“Alright, I won’t take more of your time. You’ve given me enough food for thought.”

“‘Bout time, I have to go Uptown, I’ll be late ‘cause of you,” Raph teased, playfully nudging his brother’s shoulder along the way.

“Har, har, very funny,” added the other, opening the door so both could exit the room.

As they were about to say their goodbyes, a voice rose, followed by the light clicking sound of hurried heels against the floor.

“Donnie, good timing!”

Both turtles turned their attention to a woman coming their way; Vee. She was holding a pile of documents, already taking some apart and then handing them to the tall terrapin when she was next to him.

“I’ll need you to sign some of these before Wednesday. Some designs for an upcoming project need an approval and I thought you’d be the best for that task. And I- ...” She stopped, finally noticing the other mutant. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Absolutely not,” smiled Donnie, properly holding the documents now. “We had just finished our small meeting, actually.” He gestured the woman to his brother: “Raph, this is Vee, our newest project manager addition.”

The red clad turtle grinned, extending his hand to the human in a proper greeting.

“Ah yes, Donnie mentionned you a couple of times.”

“Oh dear, I hope it wasn’t in a bad way,” lightly laughed Vee, shaking Raph’s hand.

“I would never,” reassured Donnie gently, his free hand instinctively resting at the small of her back.

A faint blush appeared on the woman’s cheeks, next adjusting her hold on the documents as her handshake with Raph ended.

“Not to be a party pooper, but I’ve gotta run,” she said with a smile. “I have a lot of stuff to hand out. Have a good day you two!”

She made sure to cross Donnie’s gaze before walking away, wanting to express her small longing to him. As she was back on her way, Raph did not hesitate to follow her frame, judging her for a moment. He finally looked back at Donnie with a look of approval.

“... Brother, you got taste.”

Donnie only replied by hiding his face with the documents he was holding.

***

Raph had said to not be scared, but Donnie couldn’t help still feeling that way. A part of him wanted to spend every moments with Vee, but on the other hand he didn’t want to appear too clingy or demanding. Gotta savor it like a fine wine, he’d try to reason. ... But frankly he just wanted to chug the damn bottle.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and so far he had only exchanged some words with her on Monday, then Wedneseday when he handed her back the approved documents he reviewed. Then he’d retreat to his office and think. And think. And think.

A ping from his computer got him out of his reverie, noticing a direct message notification.

His heart skipped a beat, his lips forming a thin line as he thought about what to answer.

Hey, wanna bang? Gosh, he felt dirty thinking about that... Keep it natural, Donnie, you don’t have to think about that for now. See where things go from there, naturally.

ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION. ABORT!!!! He felt so goddamn cheesy after sending that.

If it were up to him 100%, he’d get on his feet right this instant and sweep her off to anywhere she’d want to go. But he tried to keep it cool:

You’re the best one so far...

More like I’ll be lying down on the floor, a blushing mess. He couldn’t erase his smile, rereading again and again this conversation. He’d definitely have to think of something!

***

Later in the afternoon, as people were finishing their day, Donnie had reclused himself back into his drawing room, continuing some work on the Lowline plans. He was so focused that he did not hear Vee come in, the woman calmly making her way to his position.

“Hey...” she started softly, leaving a hand on his shoulder.

Donnie gasped, his hand holding a pencil jerking and leaving a long mark on the paper. Both froze, eyes wide as they witnessed the horror.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that much!” apologized Vee, already on the look out for an eraser. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“No it’s alright. I, uh...”

Donnie’s sentence died as the woman was now hunched close to him, already removing traces of that nasty mistake.

“I could’ve done it. I...”

His voice was hushed, having a hard time to keep focus on Vee’s movement, prefering to look at her features instead.

“I ... I could do it,” he added.

Vee slowed her movement, finally looking at Donnie.

“Do what?”

He paused, his heart drumming in his chest.

“This...”

He delicately placed a finger under Vee’s chin, not even needing to move much in order to bring them both closer for a soft kiss. The woman was surprised at first, but she quickly melted, not even denying that she had been craving the feeling as well since that Saturday night... She dropped the eraser, her hands prefering to trail along the mutant’s scales. As they broke the kiss to breathe, Donnie brought her closer to his sitting position, Vee now standing inbetween his legs. No words needed to be said, this sudden electrifying feeling passing through them. The terrapin’s hands couldn’t get off of her, either lost in her hair or tracing her back. The more they joined in a kiss, the more they wanted to be closer. At some point the turtle acted on instinct as he rose up, his hold on the woman’s hips as he laid her against the inclined drafting board. The paper crinkled underneath, but he gave no care in the world about that. Their kiss was heating up, a low pleasured churr rumbling in Donnie’s chest as he stood close to Vee’s core, feeling her desire as strong as his.

The distant sound of people talking and laughing, still around and about to exit the building, brought them both to a stop - looking at the room’s entrance, as if afraid someone would pop in at any second.

Both were lightly panting, their smiles shy after what happened. Donnie took that moment of grace to study Vee’s features, gently brushing away some wild strands of hair off her face. He straightened his stance back up afterward, helping the woman back on her feet.

“Welp, and here I came only to wish you a good evening,” chuckled Vee, adjusting her clothes.

“I’m sorry,” added the mutant in a similar tone.

“Don’t be ... I liked that.”

She rested her hands on his chest, slowly rubbing the fabric of his shirt over his plastron.

“I can’t stay late tonight, but I won’t prevent you from doing so. ... Just don’t stay here too late though.”

“No promises.”

“Please, don’t overwork yourself,” softly pleaded Vee.

“Don’t worry...” he reassured with a smile, a hand cupping the other’s cheek.

They added one good evening kiss. Nothing more, nothing less. A pleasant omen for feelings to come...

((Part 8))

#it's-a-moi #business au #dammmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnn #usual sorry if there's mistakes #I need to go to bed right now #BUT I COULDN'T STOP WRITING FSDJFHBSDBFBSDHFBSD

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 4:

Gif credit @84hotpockets

Warnings: More mentions of stalking, mutual pining, some *close quarter tension*, little angst.

Word Count: 2,865

------

“Rummaging in our souls, we often dig up something that ought to have lain there unnoticed. ” - Leo Tolstoy

------

Your breaths come sharp and short, sweat dripping from your forehead as you bounce on the balls of your feet slightly,  lungs burning as you throw punches at the boxing pads that Agent Hotchner holds out in front of you. You throw your weight into every punch, hitting out the aggression and anger at the unknown shadowy figure your mind had conjured up. The person who was trying to take your life away. The gym smells like old rubber and sweat as Hotch calls out combination numbers over the flat snapping sound of your gloves hitting the pads. His head is down and his eyes are laser focused on you, following your every move. You throw a punch on his left hand as his right comes up and taps you on your face. You groan in frustration. 

“Come on, we’ve been through this!” He repeats. “Don’t get too into your head. Block.” He brings his own hand up to demonstrate, his thick arms flexing under his t-shirt. “When you’re throwing your jabs, make sure your other hand’s by your face, nice and high, okay?” He places his hand about level with his cheek as he shifts his feet, throwing jabs at the air. You can’t even pretend anymore, watching him punch and flex makes your breath hitch and your thighs squeeze . God, you felt so naive. Stupid even. The situation is quite literally life or death and he’s teaching you to defend yourself against your stalker and instead of focusing, you’re imagining how strong he really is. 

“Got it?” He snaps you out of your stupor. You nod. “Okay, try again. Remember, the key is to block.” You nod again, and meet his pads faster and more accurately this time, blocking his attempts to get at your face. He laughs approvingly, a grin on his face. “Alright, that’s more like it! Good girl.” Your heart rate increases at that, warmth pooling, the words of praise coming from his mouth unleashing butterflies in your stomach. 

Good girl? 

The momentary lapse in concentration has his pad make contact with your face as you grunt. He shoots you a bewildered and slightly disappointed look. “Okay, tell me what went wrong there, because you were doing good.” He demands. You can feel heat rising up your neck and chest while you try to play it off. Authoritative Agent Hotchner is an Agent Hotchner you hadn’t had the pleasure of witnessing until today, and you think that maybe you’d want him to stick around a little longer. Maybe even push his buttons to see how far you could take it. Maybe hear him shout orders at you and lavish you with praise. 

He whistles. “Hey. Over here.” He claps the pads together as he narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head. You blink at him as he undoes the straps on the bottom and throws them aside, striding over to you. His shorts ride up just slightly, exposing his flexing quads as he stalks towards you. 

Oh, he’s solid.

He corners you against the ropes of the ring as he asks you again, his eyes burning into yours. “What. do you. think. went. wrong?” You blink up at him, words not coming easy now that you felt so exposed. He swallows thickly, exhaling hard through his nose. He turns to stand in the middle of the ring. 

“C’mere.” He beckons you forward with his fingers. 

Okay. 

You stomp your leg slightly, rolling your eyes. “Why? I wanna be done now, what, we haven’t done enough?” His jaw ticks and his nostrils flare. He takes another harsh breath through his nose to steady himself, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your rising chest in your sports bra. 

“I’m not going to ask you again. Come here.” 

That’ll do it. 

“Yes, sir.” You concede sarcastically. You kiss your teeth and sigh, making your way over to him, watching as you swear he blushes slightly. He adjusts the waistband on his shorts as you come close. 

Oh.

He clears his throat. “Remember the hand to hand stuff we went through? Again.” He throws a couple of jabs towards you, travelling in a loose circle and you block them with your forearm just as quickly as they come. 

He makes a point to get you comfortable, until he throws a hook which you swat downwards and try to twist his arm. You try to throw a hook of your own but you’re too slow. He ducks and wraps his arm around your waist, his other hand catching your fist and crossing it across your chest, allowing your weight to fall back on him as he carries you backwards a couple of steps. 

You curse in frustration, wincing slightly as you feel a stitch coming. His breath is soft on your neck, cooling against the sweat. You’re hyper aware of his bare arm around your exposed stomach, the other holding your arm across your chest. The length of his body presses snugly against you as your breathing falls into a rhythm, his thumb rubbing small circles on your stomach. 

“Hotchner!” You jump as the voice shouts from the hallway. You separate quickly, stretching out your neck as footsteps approach, McCall emerging from the dimly lit hallway. He’s in his work clothes and he looks agitated, his eyebrows pulled tight into a frown, mindless repetitive glances at his watch. “There you are.” He breathes out. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you. A word?” 

Hotch takes a cursory look back at you as you try to busy yourself with stretches, anything to not make eye contact. He steps out of the ring from under the ropes and while your ears are keenly trained on their conversation, you can’t quite make out anything they say, their voices hushed and intense. You figure you’re probably done for the day anyway and make a start on removing your gloves and tape. 

You squeeze yourself past Agents Hotchner and McCall to get to the showers, offering a tight smile as you do, feet fast on the worn Lino floor. You step into the changing rooms but leave the door open just enough to eavesdrop. You curse yourself mentally for developing such a horrible habit, your grandmother’s voice in your head lecturing you on the evils of listening in to conversations which aren’t meant for you. 

Still. 

“What, and it mentioned me by name? How the-“ Hotch asks, his volume increasing. 

Agent McCall shushes him. 

“How the hell does he know my name? And how did it even get through? They didn’t see anything?” He hisses.

Your eyes widen. Another note? Your stomach starts to churn. Truth is, yes it had been your idea to move back and make yourself vulnerable, and yes you had felt independent and empowered when suggesting it. But the more time went on, the more you felt like a sitting duck, unable to escape the shadowy hands closing in around your neck. 

Metro PD really needed to get better at talking quietly. You’d heard some officers outside your door a few days ago talking about how the FBI preliminary profile speculated that this guy was an obsessive, delusional stalker who’d likely kill himself, you and anybody else in his way, rather than let you go. Since then, those voices had played like echos throughout random points in the day, a sharp pang and your stomach would drop when you’d remember. The back of your neck would burn and you’d feel like your knees could give out. 

How many people were you putting in danger because you didn’t want to compromise your freedom? Was your father right? Would they all be better off? Agent Hotchner had been on his list since the day you moved in, and now the psycho knew his name. You’d heard them, he’s never going to let you go, and now you’re a pawn, waiting to draw him out, unsure of whether they’ll even be able to stop him once he gets too close. 

Your vision tunnels. 

“He didn’t drop it off directly this time.” Agent McCall tells Hotch. “An Officer Mullbeck collected the mail from the mailroom to bring up but he didn’t do a sweep. I did when I arrived and found it lying inside a magazine.” 

“So, what? He’s doing counter-surveillance now? Knows we’ve got guys posted outside?” 

“Probably. I got a call that said they got a tiny bit of his face on camera, I’m on my way to the tech guy to figure out what they can get, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s good. Knows where the cameras are.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, your breathing shallow so as to not alert them that you’re listening in. Your heart races at the thought of this person, this animal just lurking in the shadows, nameless, faceless, ready to take you down with him. 

McCall tells Hotch not to get too worked up and to just stick to routine while they work out a solid profile. 

“Alright, but what do I tell her? She acts like she’s fine but I know she’s scared, anybody would be in this situation. Do I tell her about this note?” He asks. Your face softens a little at the concern in his voice, a small smile tugging at your mouth as you lean against the door. 

Footsteps approach the changing room, you gently and quickly allow the weight of the door to fall almost all the way, allowing the last few centimetres to close slowly. 

You hear a knock at the door. Hotch clears his voice as he shouts from the other end. “15 minutes! We gotta get to the gun range. I’ll wait out here.” 

———

The air feels heavy in the Suburban, a lot on both of your minds but the unspoken words hang like smog in the SUV. He doesn’t know you heard him, but you did anyway - and the implications of what you heard - it would take some reconciling. 

You glance at Hotch out of the corner of your eye, for the hundredth time since you got in the car, his right hand firm on the wheel, his left elbow perched on the window, index finger rubbing his lips. His frown is perpetual at this point, jaw tensing and relaxing. You can’t find the words. 

“I can feel you looking at me.” He mutters matter-of-factly. “If you have something you wanna say, say it.” His eyes don’t leave the road. You feel heat rise in your face, embarrassed at your incredibly indiscreet attempt to gauge him. You come to a rolling stop in traffic as you turn slightly in the car seat. 

His eyes are still trained on the road in front, an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact as there’s not much to look at other than the numerous lanes of standstill traffic. He extends his hand across the console and turns the heat up, hot air blowing your hair back.

“Well I-” You exhale sharply. Your brain feels foggy and jumbled as you try to the find the words to not make it seem like you’re insane for listening in to his conversation. You click your knuckles to try and centre yourself, a calming habit you’d had since childhood - unsurprisingly abhorrent to your grandmother. 

You take a deep breath. “Well you haven’t said two words to me since we left the gym.” Not since Agent McCall came to see you. Plus, your jaw’s been tensing for about 20 minutes, you’ve been picking at your lips and you’re refusing to make eye contact.” You rush out, in a single breath, your voice an octave higher than usual. His eyes narrow, but he still won’t look at you, his arms moving from the steering wheel to the wing mirror, pretending to adjust it. He sniffs nonchalantly. “The real question is, what are you not telling me?” You continue. 

You feel genuinely worked up now, realising that you’re giving him an out and if he doesn’t take it now, he’d be withholding key information about your case. You prod his bicep with your finger. “I’m talking to you.” You remark. 

His jaw ticks. He finally puts the car in park, conceding to the idea that you’re going to be in traffic for a long while, and there’s nowhere and no way to escape. He still refuses to look at you, pretend squinting at the road ahead as he lets out a short laugh and you feel a strange pinch of guilt in your chest. 

That’s not fair. It was his name on the new note, and you’d heard what he’d said back in the gym. He was worried about you. Not himself. You. “I thought I was supposed to be the profiler.” He finally mutters with a dry laugh.

He puts the car in drive as a green light shows, the car dead silent the rest of the way and through the parking lot as he pulls up. You don’t want to push it-

No. You deserve to hear it from him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek again, the tension inside the car making it hard to breathe. “Hotch. Hey.” Your voice is soft. You duck your head to try and seek out his eyes. “Hey, c’mon, Hotch. Look at me. What is it?” You ask earnestly. 

He shrugs it off. “It’s nothing.” He finally turns his head to glance at you, but you refuse to take your eyes off his. You stay like that a moment, fighting for him to just tell you. 

He finally takes a deep breath and diverts his eyes. He swallows thickly before he clears his throat. “I-“ he shakes his head. “It’s nothing, really. I just don’t want you to panic.” You nod for him to continue. “McCall told me another note came today. But it was addressed to me.” He gauges your expression before he continues. “But it’s okay, I promise. He said they got a shot of him in the mailroom, McCall’s on his way to HQ now.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that he’s getting sloppy, and he’s making mistakes. It means we’re close.” He explains. 

“But what does that mean for you?” You whisper. 

“It means that the plan is working. He’s getting jealous, thinks I’m gonna take you away, and the more riled up he gets, the more likely it is he’ll make a mistake.” He reassures you, his eyes burning into yours.  

“Take me away?” You chuckle.

“He thinks we’re a uh-” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, averting his gaze. You notice he does that when he’s flustered, small smile tugging at his lips, his dimples peeking through his beard. “-Well, he thinks we’re together.” His voice drops an octave. He clears his throat as he continues. “The whole point of me being assigned to you was that it would be believable, that we would be able to pass as a couple.” He stutters over his words a little, and you can’t help but return his small grin. It’s endearing. 

His own heart sinks a little at that thought, guilt creeping in. He can’t help but reach out and grab your hand, to make sure you know he’ll do everything in his power to get this guy. Wants to somehow, some way put a smile on your face, hear your laugh, take all your worries away. Hates it when your eyes well up and you swallow your tears. Hates even more, the fact that he feels like this, feels like he needs to control what he says and does around you, knowing that the thoughts he has are dangerously close to becoming the words he truly wants to say, right on the tip of his tongue. All while his high-school sweetheart probably sits at home wondering if he’ll even make it home, worried sick about his safety, hoping that he’s okay. Hates that he’s even conflicted, that it’s even a thought in his mind. 

Yet his hand still finds yours, large and rough, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles, anything to be close to you. He continues, “But look, don’t worry about anything else other than narrowing down a list of suspects for us and we’ll take care of the rest, okay? I got you.”

Yeah. He does, he thinks.

Yeah. He does, you think.

You know It’s to catch this person, this monster, hellbent on ruining your life and you don’t doubt that Hotch would do everything in his power to make sure you were okay. You were his assignment. You know he’s ambitious. You know he wants to rise through the ranks. You know it’s his job but you can’t help but think, anyway. And your heart stupidly sinks every time. 

What kind of couple do you two make when the guy gets to go home to his girlfriend every night and you’re left thinking about what could’ve been?

----------

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[finn-ray-nal-beads]

BABY! CONGRATULATIONS ON 50 FOLLOWERS!

I HAVE A SMUTTY ASK (OBVIOUSLY) FOR MY GOBLIN HUSBAND PHILLIP (SHOCKING I KNOW)

IM THINKING PUBLIC TEASING, FOLLOWED BY SOME SEMI-PUBLIC SHENANIGANS BEFORE BEING RAILED BACK HOME IF YOU COULD BE SO KIND! THANK YOU MY ANGEL💖

@historyandfandoms50 I LITERALLY DON’T EVEN MIND IN THE SLIGHTEST AND I COULD HAVE GUESSED YOU WANTED A PHILLIP FIC.... I WONDER WHY????? 

I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU BABE I JUST LOVE YOUR SLUTTY ASS!🤤

“P-Phil,” you whispered panicked as you crossed your legs under the dinner table, the warm vibration of the little bullet causing the ripples to spread through your lower half. 

He smirked, flipping the volume up slowly on his phone as he let out a cough to stifle your hand gripping his thigh under the crowded restaurant. 

“What’s goin’ on babe?” he pandered to your scrunched face, the waves beginning to build more and more as you let out low breaths from your nostrils, “something wrong with the food?” his lips pouting as he sipped on his wine, his phone safely in his farthest pocket as he pat the spot. 

“Y-you k-know exactly w-what,” straining your voice just enough to catch the attention of Paul across the table. 

“Y/N?” he set his fork down, watching as you slowly scooted around yin your chair, the speed picking up on your clit as you took a huge swig of water, “everything okay?” his eyebrow raising as he watched your embarrassed and aroused face smile at him. 

You slammed a hand on the table, a laugh escaping Phillip as he dialed the notch to the highest degree, hearing your gasps while you pushed your thighs closed as tight as possible. 

Your disheveled behavior signaling most of the people surrounding your group to look over at you as you held a shaky thumbs up. 

“J-just f-f-f-i-i o-oh f-fuck!” the pleasure sweeping over you in a huge tsunami while your doting boyfriend kept his chuckling up, clearing his throat while his cock twitched in his slacks. 

Your cries now signaling most of the restaurant to glance at you, flipping your hair back as you smoothed your dress over yourself, the overstimulation causing you to wince openly. 

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you whispered, taking another sip of water, “this chicken is j-just s-so good,” cooing as you took a hesitant bite, smiling as you chewed and completely mortified at what had just occurred. 

“Is it honey?” he cooed in your ear, kissing the side of your cheek as he smirked, exhaling a breath on your lobe as his aftershave wafted in your nose. 

“I think I may wanna have what you’re having,” Wendy piped up, signaling the waiter to grab her the same dish as you took another bite of the chicken, sipping on some wine while you sat in your own spend the remainder of the dinner. 

His hand brushed the inside of your thigh, teasing your wetness again as he nestled his face in your neck. Kissing your pulse as his family droned on about the week they had. 

“I wanna take you home so fuckin’ bad right now baby doll,” his deep baritone vibrating to your core while you let out a pained moan that only he could hear. 

“Then what are you waiting for?” moving your face to meet his while a hand snaked to tickle his goatee, “you already are in for a whippin’ anyway,” smirking as you pecked a kiss on his waiting lips. 

“Oh is that so?” his eyebrows raised, “wasn’t it you who suggested that we should spice things up tonight, darling?” his pandering insufferable as you popped your tongue on the roof of your mouth. 

“Not admitting to shit, huh?” he giggled, swirling his wine again to stare you down, your eyes becoming slits as you shook your head in shame. 

“You’re so hot when you’re mad,” his toothy smile peeking through the glass as he took a sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, making you salivate at the sight. Your lips curled in your teeth as you tried to hold back sucking a hickey over it in front of the family. 

“What are you lookin’ at angel?” he cooed, placing the cup on the cloth again to rub his hands on your thighs, your faces coming within inches of each other again making you revel in his signature scent. His buttons straining in his dress shirt as he reached his frame to you, enveloping you in the deepest of kisses, shoving his tongue with yours. 

“Okay,” brushing his very prominent erection in agreement, “I think you need to go home honey,” gripping his girth as he hitched a breath from the touch. 

He coughed again slightly, pushing his seat back and saluting his family as he grabbed your hand to escort you in front of him to leave the restaurant, bidding everyone goodbyes and air kisses while you sauntered your curves out of the doors. 

The drive back was excruciating, the bullet whizzing on your clit again as he couldn’t help himself with his new torture toy. Every stop light he changed the mode on it, beckoning a moan from your lips while he adjusted in his seat. 

His erection was so hard by the time you pulled in to the driveway he practically forgot to switch the car off to carry your ass inside. 

Bursting through in a fit of teeth, tongue, hands, and flailing appendages, he slammed the door with his large foot, taking the stairs to the bedroom with you bridal style two by two with you latched to his lower lip. 

He threw you on the bed, wiping the crimson from his mouth as he ripped his shirt off in one tug, your dress falling off of you in the blink of his eye as he took in your laced body. 

“Good God,” he hissed, lowering himself over you on the plush comforter, a fit of hair sprawled in a halo around your gorgeous face as he sucked in a breath, “how did I get the hottest wife in the whole world?” his lips kissing your jawline as you found his locks in your fingers. 

“You’re a smooth talker you naughty boy,” whispering with a chuckle as you pulled his throbbing cock to meet your entrance, “now fuck me like you mean it,” clawing his back as he lowered himself to touch your forehead with his. 

“Yes ma’am,” smirking as his gaze met his head, tapping on the top of the key before he inched himself in your sopping hole, “I think I gotta warm you up that way more often,” feeling your tightness choke his girth as he settled himself deep within you. 

“Shut your gorgeous mouth and fuck me babe,” you strained, his grin meeting you again as he set a punishing pace over you, the headboard banging the wall with every push he made. 

“Mmmm.. such a dirty little mouth my pretty wife has,” grunting at the feeling of your nails digging into his meaty shoulders, his tits straining with every moan he made over you. 

Melting into each other as the wails continued, and the pacing sped up. His tip touching your G-spot as he changed his angle slightly, making you choke on the air in a cry. 

“There we fuckin’ go,” he mused, pushing even further and faster as you cried under him, the sensation sending waves upon waves of fire through your spine as your release rose to new heights. 

“Fuckin’ cum all over my cock angel,” he growled, the sweat dripping from his short locks onto your glistening skin, digging into his biceps as you stared into his blackened eyes. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum for me baby doll,” he cooed, the damn breaking as a feral wail left your lungs, the pleasure sending you into overdrive as he reveled in your second climax of the night. 

It lasted longer than you could count, the ringing in your ears clouding the sounds in the room as you felt his warmth coat your insides in the most delicious way. 

The fog lifting when his movements slowed down, hearing his heavy pants as his seed spilled in its rightful place. 

“J-Jesus,” he huffed, removing to see the thick mixture spill from your gaping cunt as it begged to be plugged again. 

“That,” slapping the top of your thigh before crashing next to you on the bed in a thud, both your sweaty bodies spent in the best way as you listened to him continue, “was the best investment... Ever,” grabbing a handful of tit in a giggle. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself honey,” rolling your eyes again with a smirk. 

“I know you enjoyed yourself too, babe,” kissing your cheek, “and so did the entire restaurant,” in a huge fit of cackles as he dodged playful slaps from you and rightfully so. 

______________

I TOOK SOME INSPO FROM THE MOVIE THE UGLY TRUTH ON THIS ONE... I HOPE YOU LOVED THE TAKE I MADE ON IT HONEY! 

🖤, 

ray-nal-beads

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[princess-of-riviaa]

Aphrodisiac

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader x Chris Evans

Summary: You get high with your best friends, Henry and Chris, one night. Only when it’s too late do the three of you realize that you hadn’t smoked weed, but rather an aphrodisiac that turns the night into something hot and surprising.

Warning(s): drug use, threesome, fingering, choking kink, dirty talk

Word Count: 1,902

Tonight’s plan takes a very unexpected turn the second you, Henry, and Chris realize that the marijuana you’d just smoked had turned out to be something very different--an aphrodisiac. Since you’re the smallest of your trio, the effects hit you first. One second you normal, thinking you hadn’t smoked enough and that you weren’t going to get buzzed tonight, and the next second fire is licking up your veins, burning you alive with want.

“Are we sure that was weed?” you ask, your words slightly slurring together as your mind begins to drown in a haze of lust.

Both of the men frown at you. You’re holed up in Chris’ house for the night, though it had been Henry who’d brought the weed over. The three of you now sit in Chris’ living room, their large bodies taking up all the room on the couch, and you’re on your back on the floor. The pipe is on the table next to the rest of Henry’s bag of weed.

“What are you…?” Chris begins, then jumps when you start to touch yourself. “What are you doing?!”

You knead your breasts over your shirt, trying to ease the burning just under the surface of your skin. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out while continuing to touch yourself, “I can’t stop it. It fucking hurts--”

“Shit,” Chris curses, letting out something between a sigh and a moan, and you know he feels the drug too. His hand reaches for his crotch, then pauses when he realizes what he was about to do. “Fuck man, what the hell did you give us?”

“I told my brother I wanted weed,” Henry says. The drug has yet to kick in for him. Since he has the most body mass, it’s not surprising that it takes him the longest to feel the effects. “He must have given me the wrong bag. I’m sorry, guys--” He freezes and his eyes go wide like he’s got a brain freeze. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Yeah, he definitely gave me the wrong bag.”

“What do we… do now?” you ask, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

The guys exchange a glance, then look at you.

“What?” You look between them and notice their gazes flick to your hands, which are still massaging your breasts. Your brain is tied down and locked up for the night. Your body has a mind of its own now and you’re going to give into your desire whether the logical side of you--the side that keeps reminding you that Chris and Henry are your friends and you’ll be mortified if you continue down this road--likes it or not.

“Well, we’re all fucked for the night,” Chris begins. “I think, as friends, we should help each other out.”

You frown. Help each other out? He can’t actually be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“I think that’s reasonable,” Henry agrees, coughing to cover up whatever sound of desperation he was about to release. “It’s only for one night.”

They’re still staring at you, waiting for you to reject the idea. “I’ve been… touching my breasts... for the last two minutes in front of you guys. You really think I’m… going to say no to this?”

They make room for you to sit on the couch between them. You struggle to get up--your body feels two hundred pounds heavier than it was five minutes ago--but eventually find your seat between them. Your heart beats embarrassingly loudly at the thought of hooking up with two of your closest friends. But your nerves disappear the second Chris’ hand moves to your thigh. Desire fuels you as you lean in to kiss him. You can taste the drug on his tongue along with something sweet that you can’t place. He kisses you deep enough to make you moan and when he pulls back, you’re absolutely breathless.

“My turn,” Henry growls on your other side. He cups your cheek and pulls you toward him. Henry’s kiss is a lot rougher than Chris’; while Chris kissed you sweetly and softly, almost hesitantly, Henry is demanding and eager. Both of them kiss passionately but the way Henry’s tongue moves against yours… it’s a kiss you can feel in your toes. Your breathing is shaky when he finally pulls away from you. His gaze jumps south. “Enjoying yourself?”

It’s only then that you realize your hands had gone back to your breasts, kneading them hard enough to make it hurt. Your erect nipples brush against your bra and suddenly you want nothing more than to be naked and unrestrained. You don’t even bother to feel embarrassed before you attempt to take your shirt off. The guys see you struggle and hurry to help. Chris’ fingers graze against your sides as he lifts your shirt over your head, making goosebumps rise on every inch of your body. He hurries to unclasp your bra as Henry unbuttons your shorts and drags them down your legs. Somehow you end up with your back against Chris’ chest and your legs in Henry’s lap.

“God, the things I want to do to you,” Chris breathes in your ear.

You let out a groan at his words and the tone of his voice. “Touch me,” you cry out, the words tumbling out before you can think to stop them.

Chris’ chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles. His hands cup your breasts and begin to slowly knead them until you’re aching your back against him and crying out with bliss.

On the other end of the couch, Henry is enjoying the view of you and Chris while slowly trailing his fingers up the insides of your thighs. His touch, though featherlight, makes your skin burn everywhere he touches and you swear you’re going to cum before either of these men even undress. Henry’s hands stop at the top of your thighs, inches from your heat, and your legs fall open for him.

Henry curses under her breath. “Whatever you’re doing, Chris, keep it up. She’s already soaked for us.”

Chris takes your earlobe between his teeth and gives a playful tug before murmuring, “Is that so? What made you so wet, baby? We haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Oh, the thought of either one of them being inside of you makes your legs clench. But Henry pries your legs apart, forcing them to stay wide open on his lap. You meet his dark gaze and beg him to start touching you. He teases you for a few more seconds by running his hands over the sensitive skin on your pelvis and the inside of your thighs before finally moving two thick digits between your folds. Your hips spasm with that small touch. Henry growls at your reaction while Chris chuckles playfully. While Henry begins to rub at your clit Chris focuses on your nipples, twisting and pulling them between his fingers under their erect and aching. You gasp for air, already feeling close to coming. The drug magnifies everything--their hands on your bare skin; the volume of their voices; the delicious smell of their cologne rubbing onto you--and makes you more sensitive than usual.

“Suck on my fingers, baby,” Chris coos in your ear, his fingers tracing the outline of your mouth.

Your mouth parts instantly, desperate and obedient for him. He pushes three thick fingers in your mouth and you begin to suck on them, giving him an idea of how well you’d suck his cock.

“Yeah, just like that,” Chris groans. “Fuck, baby. The sight of you like this is making me so hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Henry speaks up, his fingers still attacking your clit in teasing circles. “I swear these jeans have never been tighter.”

You moan around Chris’ fingers. The thought that you’re winding them up this much makes you drip. Henry notices it.

“You like that, baby girl?” he asks. “You like it when we tell you how good you’re being for us, how hot the sight of you is making us?” The way he speaks so fluidly tells you that he’s done this before. You squirm at his dirty mouth and find yourself wishing that you weren’t just going to experience this tonight, that this wasn’t just a one time thing. You wish you could see this side of Henry and Chris more often.

Chris pulls his fingers out of your mouth and licks your spit off of them. “Fuck, you taste so good. Wonder what your sweet little cunt tastes like.” You can tell Chris doesn’t talk dirty as much as Henry does, but he finds off of Henry’s energy all the same, turning you into a pile of mush between them.

“Please,” you cry out, your pussy burning with need. “I need… something.”

“Gotta be specific, baby,” Chris whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. A shiver runs down your spine. “Tell Henry what you want him to do to you.”

“F-fingers,” you get out. “I want you to finger me, Henry.” Wow, you never thought you’d say that to him. Not in a million years could you have predicted something like this unfolding.

“Are you sure about that?” Henry asks, his gaze steady on yours, but he shoves a finger inside of you before you can answer.

Your entire body tenses at the surprising intrusion. He’d lubed his finger up in your arousal, but his fingers are so thick and you’re so tight that your pussy burns for a few seconds before adjusting to him.

Henry hisses as if he feels the pain too. “You’re so fucking tight, I can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

You whimper again and find yourself grinding against his hand. Chris grabs you by the throat, not letting you move an inch further. You sigh out at the feeling of Chris’ hand on you--choking has always been a secret kink of yours--just as Henry begins curling his finger deep inside of you, already hitting your g-spot with every movement. Your hips grind against his hand desperately, wildly, hungrily. Your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

Chris must notice the change in your breathing because he says, “She’s close. Keep fingering her, Cavill. I wanna watch her fall apart.”

And you do. Henry only has to curl his finger two more times before your walls clench impossibly tight around his digit. Your head gets thrown back as your body begins to spasm with the force of your climax. Oh, you never want it to end. You want to stay in this moment of mindless ecstasy forever. It ends too soon. You find yourself struggling to open your eyes as you steady your breathing.

“Fuck,” you and Henry sigh out simultaneously, quickly followed by Chris’ laugh and a curse under his breath.

You can still feel the drug tugging at the edges of your mind, but its strength has dimmed as if your climax has satisfied it. “Can your brother give us some more of that aphrodisiac?” you ask Henry.

“I can ask,” he says, “but we’re doing this sober next time.”

“Next time?” you gasp. They want to do this again? You’re all for it, you just hadn’t thought that you’d be lucky enough for them to feel the same.

The guys exchange a look.

“Next time,” Chris answers, his chest vibrating against your back.

Fuck yes.

***

Tag Squad:

@agniavateira​ @hnryycvll​ @littlefreya​ @celestial-vomit​ @lestersglitterglue​ @watermeloncavill​ @honeychicana​ @penwieldingdreamer​ @mary-ann84​ @elixasays​ @buckysgoldenheart​ @noz4a2​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @omgkatinka​ @lunedelorient​ @aphrodites-punch​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @sweetybuzz25​ @iloveyouyen​ @deathonyourtongue​ @utterlyhopeful​ @wondersofdreaming​ @tsukuyomi011​ @the-soot-sprite @desperate-and-broken​ @jayismz @emelinelovesjc @palaiasaurus64​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @henrythickcavill​ @secretlyactivated​ @madbaddic7ed​ @persephonehemingway​

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Can we get some spare Launo headcannons for July?

Launo sucked big time at knight school when he first arrived—he didn’t exactly have any background help given no one in his family was a knight either. He was basically assigned the equivalent of “equipment manager” during the first few months. And when he did get proper actions with a broadsword or a bow, Launo struggled with footwork and precision and all the minute details of a duel so he often got his ass handed to him.

But one the top kids in Launo’s class thought he was cool anyways—that was, one Arcadius Hartell. Pretty, rich, ace with sword, bow, spear, and anything sharp, and pretty much had no flaws or weaknesses. Launo at first thought the guy was just pitying him, the kid who has never won a single sparring match and consistently put on training dummy duty (that is reattaching their heads when they got lopped off)

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Arcadius came to ask something from him.

“How do you do that?”

Launo turned from the training dummy he was working on. “S-Sorry, what?”

“The...the thing you do. With the...thing?” Arcadius pointed to the needle and thread Launo was holding as he was reattaching the dummy’s forearm. “How do you do that?”

Launo scrunched his eyebrows in confuzzlement. “This is, uh, well. It’s just sewing I guess. If this guy were real I guess it would be stitching, haha...” He patted the dummy’s wood shoulder playfully as if joking with a pal—the dummy immediately tipped over, Launo coughed and stepped in front of the mess to ignore it. Arcadius nodded thoughtfully.

“So, do you have a special technique or something?”

“I mean, not really, it’s just regular old sewing...”

“But I assume you’ve spent years training on the art.”

“I...uh...I guess? My mom taught me.”

“Oh! So it’s like...an apprenticeship...?”

“...Are you under the impression that sewing is some sacred gift that gets passed down to the worthy or something?”

“.........no....”

The two boys just stood awkwardly for a moment longer, Launo studying Arcadius’ face.

“You don’t even know what sewing is do you?”

“O-Of course I do! It’s the...thing.” He made a sword motion with his fingers, as if wielding a tiny blade. “You stab the stuff and it repairs. With the...” Arcadius squinted as he thought for a moment, “...stool...”

“Spool?”

“Yeah! That! So, look, you’re pretty skilled at everything—“

“I am??” Launo took a step back in shock.

“Yeah! You always fix the equipment, and somehow haul around all those weapons, and make us cool lunches—“

“I don’t know, I made Rubeo vomit last week cause I forgot he hates blueberries...”

Arcadius shook his hands. “N-Not the point. And he sort of deserves it. The fact is you’re obviously leagues ahead of the game—“

“I—Actually I wouldn’t say—“

“—so you just gotta teach me everything you know!” Arcadius pumped a fist and closed his eyes. “How could I ever call myself a knight if I don’t even learn the basics of equipment management! Who will mend the wounded holes in my soldier’s pride if I can’t even fix the tears in my uniform! A mountain’s peak is equivalent to the shallow shore if you have no bearing of the heights you soar.”

Launo blinked. “Are you...okay?”

Arcadius scratched his head. “Aha...sorry. That’s a quote from Aria Nori’s newest volume. Guess I was too into the moment there.”

“Oh! The Zora poet! I’ve read her stuff! I haven’t read her latest volume, but my dad often binds her books—“

“Really?!” Arcadius’ eyes were suddenly star struck. “That’s so cool! This is all the more reason you gotta teach me this stuff.” He waved again at the collapsed training dummy. “Maybe start with the beetle and thread.”

“Needle. D-Do you not know what a needle is?”

Arcadius’ eyes glazed over. “...no...oh my gods that’s not gonna be on the test is it?? I’m so screwed—“

“Nonono it’s not, I’m just...” Launo bit his tongue. Now that he thought about it, he never really saw anyone else in his class do mundane house chore stuff. They were far too busy sharpening swords and bragging about their parents or grandparents or great uncles or cousins that totally were war heroes and high ranking political figures. Sewing could just be a Hateno thing, could it..?

“Can’t you just hire someone to teach you?” Launo started. “I mean, I’m super flattered! Just that, I’m not exactly a master at this, so I’m sure there are adults out there that are more accomplished.”

Arcadius hung his head. “I don’t think my dad would let me...Pretty much everything not sword related he just hires someone to do for me. And he’s super picky about what training I focus on.”

“Well it’s not really official training, it could just be a hobby.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, sounding out the word. “H...Hob...?”

“O-OK, just forget that. H-How about...” Launo didn’t meet his eyes as he absentmindedly kicked the dirt. “Y-You like poetry, right? You can come over to my house and look at my dad’s collection. And when we’re there, I can let my mom...” He scrunched his eyes, trying to nail down the words, “...apprentice you? On the...art, of sewing?”

Arcadius’ eyes were wide enough to reflect the heavens themselves. “R-Really?? You’d do that??”

“I don’t see why not. It’ll be after call and,” Launo’s eyes suddenly sparked, “...You can just tell your dad that you’re training me! Say that you were asked to help your fellow classmates cause you’re already so far ahead from everyone else.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie, Launo thought, bitterly.

“Hmm...” Arcadius tapped his chin, before shrugging. “Might have to tweak the explanation to ‘getting extra credit for top grades by tutoring’ cause I don’t know how he’ll feel about me helping the competition.” He articulated the last word with a mocking, adulting tone. Then he held out a hand. “But I think it sounds like a deal! I’ll give you some pointers, and you introduce me to your mentor.”

“My mom.”

“Yeah, that.”

Launo shook his hand, still a bit timidly, given he now noticed that a few other boys in the training yard were watching the prodigy student interact with the glorified janitor boy.

So they both tutored each other: Larc, in the art of knowing what sewing magic was (Larc bringing the most expensive and ornate needle Launo had ever seen, even though Larc claimed he just found it in his father’s closet) and brewing delicious broths (“Wait, you have to stand around this pot for hours and cook this stuff?? I thought you just made soup in a bowl! You know, like how servants take off the silver cover on the tray and the soup is already there?” “We...dont have waiters or anything...so our method of cooking different.”) Meanwhile, Launo was able to make some progress with knight training—keyword, “some.”

“Don’t make your stance so wide.” Arcadius shoved Launo’s back foot with his boot. “Keep your feet closer together, you only want enough distance so that your front foot can hover an inch off the ground while your back foot stays planted. Any further, and you’ll topple too easily.”

Launo adjusted his stance as instructed, and readied the rapier again. He set his jaw. “OK. Come at me!”

Arcadius nodded. He picked up the wooden sword and swung (a bit slowly and wide) at Launo’s side.

Launo immediately shoved his rapier point left to counter his attack, but instead moved with such force and vigor that he practically fell onto Arcadius’ blade.

Arcadius chuckled, dropping the sword and helping Launo up again. “You don’t need to use to much force when you swing. In fact it’s better to work with simple quick movements with any rapier or piercing sword, since the damage is done by the tip, not the weight.”

“S-Sorry...” Launo mumbled as he got up again.

“Don’t be! Oh hey!” Arcadius suddenly went back around towards the pile of weapons and pulled out a claymore. “Actually, maybe a sword like this will work better for you! You won’t have to worry as much about holding back, or being finesse. All the power is in that downward swing—!” Arcadius swung the sword into a nearby log to demonstrate, nearly cutting it asunder.

He offered it to Launo. “And don’t let the size fool you, it’s not actually that heavy. Large weapons still need to let soldiers be quick enough to parry and block attacks.”

Launo turned the claymore around in his hands, studying the blade and handle.

Arcadius gestured to the log. “Well, go on! It’s similar to the grip I taught you with the broadsword, but this time you use your other hand in the bottom to support the weight as it turns on an axis. Try that downward swing I showed you!”

Launo paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he planted his foot down, and swung the claymore down with all his might, aiming for another soon-to-be piece of firewood.

The claymore whistled as it fell, and it cut into the log deep—about halfway. Yet, still not nearly as deep as how Arcadius had done it.

Nonetheless, he was hopping with joy for Launo. “That was awesome!! You did great!!”

He sighed as he left the claymore in the log. “No I didn’t...”

“What are you talking about? That was probably the best blow you’ve done all night!”

“Yeah! And it’s not even a quarter of the damage that you did with your swing!”

“Well, it still took me a while to—“

Launo gestured to the other log. “It’s been how many weeks?? And I’m not even CLOSE to being as good as you, much less being a top student...” He plopped into the dirt and laid himself out like a starfish.

Larc stood over him, confused. “Why would you want to be a top student?”

“BECAUSE I SUCK ASS, DUDE!” Launo held up his arms, exasperated. Larc, on instinct, stepped back and held his hands close to his chest as he fiddled with his thumbs and mumbled an apology. Launo immediately sighed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m mad at you. You’re really great, Link. You’re so nice to me and you’re talented and I’m so grateful, but I’m just...” He shifted in the dirt again. “I don’t think I could ever be like you. I’d even dare to say it’s impossible.”

Larc stilled, playing with his thumbs, before daring to step closer and sit in the dirt beside him.

“Can I tell you a secret, Launo?”

He was quiet, but he nodded a yes.

“I think my brother’s a stronger fighter than me.”

Launo furrowed his eyebrows confused, but he continued.

“He just never takes his knight training seriously, because of my father. But I bet if he really tried, he’d be great at it.”

Ah. So that’s what he meant.

“But I AM trying.” Launo whined. “I guess compared to you it doesn’t seem like much but—!”

“Nono! Sorry that’s not what I meant!” Larc quickly cut in. “I just...” He trailed off.

“...There’s a reason I have to be the best.” Larc finally said. He was looking out into the woods, but Launo felt that he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular, maybe deep in thought. “There’s a reason I can’t settle, I can’t rest. It’s really important that I get this all right. And I guess that makes me admirable to most people but...”

He looked down at Launo, still spread out in the dirt. “I didn’t really choose to be a knight, unlike you. I didn’t actually choose to be the best, and I don’t get why so many people do train to be at the top out of their own violation. It really...sucks ass.” He articulated the last part in Launo’s tone, and they both giggled.

“So...I guess that I’m trying to say here is that...” He thought one his words a moment longer. “I think so many people are afraid of trying new things, because they fear not being the best at it, not being at the top. And I suppose ambition is good but...” He tilted his head and shrugged at Launo. “As someone who’s supposedly at the top, I would say I envy anybody that can make progress that their proud of. You choose to be a knight, and you’re training for it out of your own strength and courage. That’s more than I’ll ever have, so you should probably get off the ground and realize that soon.”

Launo’s eyes widened, a bit unnerved by how uncharacteristically blunt Larc was being.

“In my opinion, anyone that aims to be better than everyone is stupid—maybe that’s just me, but...I would think that if I was you, I’d be proud of any progress I made. If I was more skilled than I was yesterday, that’s really all I would care about. Why would I care about being the top of my class? I would kill to just be satisfied with being a better me.”

There was silence as the boys took in Larc’s words. Then he suddenly stood up. “G-Goddess Hylia, sorry I’ve been talking for so long, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” He went to collect his things. “You can keep the claymore, I think you’d be great at it, just...”

Larc packed his swords and backpack, before turning back to the flopped out Launo. “...I think you’re really cool, Launo. So don’t tap out for my sake—I’m not the person that matters in your training, am I? So don’t give up for any silly reasons like that.”

Launo perked his head up to meet his gaze. While Arcadius was usually serious and controlled during training at school, Larc always seemed to have genuine excitement about swords when it came to him. The bright smile on his face caused his cheeks to warm and he immediately flipped his head back to hide it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Launo!” Larc ran off into the night, a cobblestone streets in the distance swallowing his figure.

“See you...” Launo whispered.

He lay in the dirt a moment longer—his mother would probably berated him for the stains again—when he finally got up and looked at the claymore in the log. He walked up to it and observed it further, it was another a sixth of the way deep. He glanced at Larc’s log, which was nearly split in two, and sighed. Then he glanced back at his own work.

“Well, it’s better than when I first started I guess...” Launo mumbled.

No one responded.

The boy let out a huff, and gripped the sword again in his hands.

“But I can do better.”

By the time Launo was 16 he was finally beating his classmates with ease, specializing in longswords, axes, and hammers. And while he definitely still “sucked ass” in things like archery and lance work—to which some boys still teased him for—he found overtime that he no longer cared about what they thought. They had their strengths, and he had his. And to top it off, absolutely no one in the academy could make a lemon cookie like him. So at least he had the best in show for that angle.

Even years later, after certain incidents transpired concerning House Hartell, Launo always welcomed Larc to his house for “training.” Although after a while, it would be hard to still call it that when a large chunk of time is really just spent running their fingers through each other’s hair.

“But we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

And even years after graduating as part of the top ten in his class and working as a knight, some of his old classmates would tease him for being the “rich boy’s lap dog,” Launo would find that he still really didn’t care—after a punch or two was thrown, of course. He found that his new lack of anxiety and concern heavily stemmed from that night, when Larc had told him about his envy for choice and satisfaction. Thinking back at the memory of his handling with a sword and his happy little smile once made Launo blush so hard his father teased him about it for the rest of his life—his mother claimed he went so red he would fit right in with the tomato stew. One of these days, Launo would pay Larc back for the endless teasing he got from his parents. And pay Larc back he would, indeed.

I mean, he already had the ring.

#hku spoilers #Launo Birch

[reneesi]

i never would have thought // CH.03

WRITTEN PORTION

“How the hell did Hinata of all people sleep in?” Tanak roared, leaning forward to loom over (y/n) from the seat just behind. (Y/n) leaned her head back and peered up, offering only a shrug. Much to everyones dismay, the Hinata’s had arrived around 20 minutes late. Kageyama was especially pissed, chastising Shoyo nonstop since the team had boarded the charter bus. The crazy first year duo had sat in the very back, bickering at an uncharacteristically low voice. (Y/n) would definitely have to ask Shoyo about it later.

But because of said seating, (y/n) had ended up sitting next to Asahi with Tanak and Nishinoya in the seats right behind. In front of (y/n) Daichi and Sugawara were showing each other memes on Instagram, little giggles escaping Suga every so often.

“What in the hell did he stay up doing?” Tanaka yelled, reaching over to poke at (y/n)’s nose

“I don’t know Tanaka-Senpai!! I was too busy sleeping!” (Y/n) replied, pouting as she swatted away his hand

“Hey! No more nose poking! You’ve lost your nose booping privileges since being demoted to Hoe Number Two!” (Y/n) ducked her head down, bringing up her knees to press against her chest as she hid her face in between. Tanak sighed dramatically

“Guess I’ll just pass away now.” Tanka cried out, tone dripped in feigned anguish as he collapsed back into his seat with a thud. Nishinoya burst into short booming laughter, causing (y/n) to smile quietly to herself. Every day that passed (Y/n) was starting to feel more at home, developing inside jokes and stronger bonds with each of her new team mates. (Y/n) began to think of all the good that had happened once she had moved and relaxed back into her seat with a smile spread across her face. And as the bus droned on, the members of Karasuno settled into a comfortable silence.

(Y/n) was very grateful for her cousin, because if not for him she’d still be stuck in her miserable bubble back at home. And it wasn’t as though (y/n) hATED home, it was a quieter resentment. The kind that made Christmas tolerable but high school absolute hell. She knew that she’d have to return someday, but for the time being she was safe far far away and that alone made the weight of everything she’d suffered disappear. Although, what made (y/n) actually happy rather than just relieved was most definitely her new friends, and someday she’d repay Shoyo for the best gift she had ever received: Karasuno’s boys volleyball team.

Deep in thought (Y/n) turned back to peak at her cousin, instinctively, only to find him asleep on Kageyama’s shoulder. (Y/n) smiled softly, feeling a melancholic pang through her chest. She loved to see Shoyo happy by Kageyama’s side, but deep down she envied their friendship more than she’d ever admit. Shoyo had a best friend, even if it didn’t always appear that way to other. But (Y/n) knew the truth, she’d seen the pair sprawled out together on the couch, channel surfing on their days off. She’d seen them throw goldfish at each other, she’d even seen Kageyama’s soft side subsequent of he and her cousins incredibly close friendship. Something that she was, according to them, “legally” never allowed to talk about. But when Shoyo had gotten sick, she had seen Kageyama at his bedside. And (Y/n) wanted that more than anything in the whole wide world.

In an attempt to distract herself from such thoughts, (Y/n) pulled out her cellphone. Plugged in her headphones, she turned up the volume and let her lids fall to a close in hopes of drifting off to sleep and forgetting about her secret loneliness. She was only on the second song of her playlist when (Y/n) felt a gentle tap on her shoulders, her eyes fluttering open in response.

“What song are you listening to?” Asahi asked, shy smile spread across his lips. (Y/n) removed an earbud, eyes wide with embarrassment.

“Im so sorry! Was my music too loud?” She apologized, cheeks turning pink. Asahi brows furrowed, and his head tilted slightly.

“Only a little bit but it wasn’t bothering anyone,” His pointer finger motioned at her cellphone once more “So what song is that?”

(Y/n) double tapped her screen, lighting it up to display her lock screen. She turned it to show Asahi the songs title and artists.

“I thought I recognized it! I love that artists, though I didn’t know he’d released more music!” He chuckled, grin widening with each word. (Y/n) smiled back shyly.

“R..really? I didn’t know people knew about him, he’s sort of new.. right?”

“Yeah but his stuff is really good.” Asahi reached towards her phone, but stopped “do you mind if I take a look at your playlist?”

“No, not at all!” (Y/n) exclaimed, attempting to hid her nervousness. No one had ever liked her taste in music before, so she’d never really been inclined to share, but its not like she was gonna say no to Jesus himself. As he scrolled, his eyes lit up.

“I recognize a couple of these, this playlist looks awesome.” Asahi said in quiet enthusiasm, scrolling back up to the top.

“Thank you.” (Y/n) beamed

“What are you guys looking at?” Nishinoya cut in, leaning over Asahi with his hands now grasping onto the ace’s shoulders.

“It’s (y/n)’s playlist.” Asahi explained

“Woah!! This is yours?” Nishinoya snatched the cellphone from Asahi scrolling through it himself “(Y/N) this iS SO GOOD!” He burst out

“What is it?” Tanak interjected, standing up and leaning over to Nishinoya in an attempt to see the screen. Nishinoya adjusted to share.

“Woah (Y/N)!! I didn’t know you had such a good playlist!” Tanak exclaimed, excitedly shaking her by the shoulders.

“Hey! No shaking privileges remember!” (Y/n) giggled, gently brushing off his hands.

“What are you guys talking about?” Yamaguchi asked, leaning across the isle. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had sat across the isle from (Y/n) and Asahi but Tsukishima had quickly put on his headphones and turned to face the window and Yamaguchi had fallen asleep despite the loudness of the earlier conversations, so neither had uttered a single word for the trip thus far.

“It’s my playlist.” (Y/n) turned her head to face Yamaguchi, visibly pleased “they like it!”

Yamaguchi lit up in delight

“I wanna see!” Yamaguchi said, reaching up towards Tanaka whom was currently holding onto (Y/n)’s phone. Tanak handed the phone over without complaint.

Yamaguchi, just as his team mates had, began to gush over (Y/n)’s playlist. This attracted the attention of the remaining team mates, sans Kageyama and Hinata whom were still asleep in the back and Tsukishima who’s headphones blocked out the commotion.

“(Y/n) you should play your music out loud, so everyone can enjoy it with you!” Yachi declared softly, handing back (Y/n)’s cellphone. (Y/n) looked around unsure.

“I mean my phone’s speaker isn’t that loud and I dont want to bother any-“

“I have a speaker!”Yamaguchi cut in, reaching into his bag

“And you won’t be bothering anyone,” Daichi added “I for one would like to hear these songs the everyone is raving so much about.” He finished with a chuck. Sugawara looked back at him lovingly, before agreeing aloud

“Me too!” He turned back to (Y/n), offering a reassuring smile

(Y/n) looked around, searching for some sort of disapproval but found only supportive encouragement across her teammate’s faces. A grin snuck its way across her lips.

“Alright!” She exclaimed, pulling up her bluetooth setting as Yamaguchi held out his speaker.

In the end the team went through the playlist 3 times before arriving at training camp, and during that time the bus was nothing but smiles. (Y/n) looked around in utter glee, as her team mates vibed out to the music, bopping their head along to the beat and sometimes even singing along. When Kageyama and Shoyo had woken up, they too joined the jam session and even came to sit further up with the rest of the team.

When the bus eventually began to pull into the lot, Nishinoya pumped a fist into the air.

“You gotta send me that playlist (y/n)!” He bellowed “now i’m all hyped up to train.”

As the bus came to a stop Nishinoya nearly jumped out of his seat. The rest followed suit, chatting excitedly as everyone began to gather their belongings. (Y/n) reached down and picked up her bag, still smiling. She was so glad everyone had had so much fun, and was practically on platonic cloud 9. (Y/n) reached over to hand Yamaguchi back his speaker, and out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she saw the impossible. Tsukishima with his headphones off. Smiling.

Her cheeks grew warm, had he been listening with everyone? Did he like her music? But he hadn’t even complained! (Y/n) lowered her head quickly, snapping her gaze back to her lap in which her bag awaited. She hid her face, which was now darkened by hues of pink and red.

Had Tsukishima actually listened to her music, and had he liked it? Or was she just jumping to conclusions and imagining thing? (Y/n) was dying to know.

CH.03 II i didn’t know you had tAsTE??

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[taikova]

do you got any tips on studying and applying anatomy to art? your character art always inspires me because of how well rounded it is. i get frustrated practicing life drawing because it feels like i never get anywhere.

so because it’s kind of vague to me what you mean by “well-roundedness”, i’m gonna just talk about general things (i do this a lot with art asks. i just have to keep reiterating about learning something of every single possible art fundamental from painters and illustrators and graphic designers and even 3d artists because doing that has helped me tremendously to improve my art. it might help you too, so here i go again. for more of the same and others, you can try the tag “art help” on a browser ver of my blog)

i think i practised *some* anatomy by drawing plain naked bodies at one time. but honestly rn i’m pretty bad at drawing that, because i haven’t drawn anatomy studies of muscles at all or done it very little lately. and there IS plenty of references to use if you google. it’s good to do life drawing for anatomy’s sake but there’s more to characters than just getting the muscles where they’re supposed to go (and you can actually just find/make a reference very specific to your art piece whenever you need it. reference is good.)

(cut for length)

i like drawing clothes folds, and you can make them look good with just a little knowledge of how certain clothing acts, bulks or wraps around a limb. i think rather than getting things anatomically correct (though it certainly helps me) it’s more important to focus on knowing how your character would look if you walked around them and saw them in 3 dimensions. gesture, body type, hair volume, clothes etc on top of this are part of well rounded characters. observing real life is very important, for example, often in my everyday life i’ve just taken a moment to stare at something objectively like how my clothes fold at the elbow or how i adjust my hoodie and how my hand grips something, and thought about how fun it could be to draw that. sometimes i just look at other people or their hands or clothes and try to keep them in mind for when i draw again. like it’s not very different from using real ref but you have to actually, actively think about it, incorporate it just a little into your daily life so you can remember it (on top of doing studies!). but when you’re in front of your canvas and need to be able to or need to solve a problem in your drawing, try to make sure you don’t get distracted by other things around you, and focus on drawing one thing for a little bit. (put on something instrumental, repetitive for focusing, like game bg soundtrack), and find or make the references you need, and go.

i’ve gotten frustrated a lot too, specifically about how HARD it is to like. see a full body and reference that instead of getting stuck into details like this one fold that’s right above the knee and you just can’t seem to make it look right and you gotta erase it over and over and over.... until you realise its sucked all fun out of drawing it cause you just can’t “see” the drawing anymore...

i think i had to find ways to make it more interesting to LEARN. it’s not always fun, but i’d just try to find any way to get me inspired to push into doing lots of bad drawing. there’s plenty of other reasons like feeling inadequate, which you SOMEHOW need to psych yourself out of. maybe if you’re not making something for an audience (so don’t think about posting it online, even if you likely would), but you’re making it cause you want to feel the satisfaction of either the process, or solving a problem, or the eventual long-game finished drawing that you will like to look at, or just the motivation from knowledge that if you push through this patch of studies, then drawing that next time will get a little bit easier. you won’t notice improvement until you stop to compare your old art to your new, it will be pretty gradual. (or maybe the satisfaction just comes from imagining a fave character and expressing that in whichever way or quality through your art? or just from imitating a cool speed painting from youtube and dreaming about achieving something like it *at that specific time*, even if your art will likely not look the same because you take inspiration from a lot of different places)

but anyway, i recommend trying to maybe find a fun way to do studies? if you find some fun references, try making them your fave character you like to draw each time. draw your own clothes! you have a free model living inside you all day and night. maybe try copying another artist, see what they do right (buuuuuut maybe don’t post it anywhere). Like, REALLY good painters have taught me to see better in 3d and what that means for art? it’s a lot of things that come together to make a very nice drawing of a character. good luck!

#Anonymous #asks #sorry this took so long to post i forgot this in my drafts. i do that a lot. #art help

[shotsbyshae]

Coming Soon: Till There’s Nothing Left

Hunter Steve Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Murder, Bloody, Little Smut-ish

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: I’m back-ish. Little Hunter Steve drabble I’m working on with this holiday break coming up. Tag list is open - sorry I’ve been away so long - 2020 has been a crazy train.

Song: Till There’s Nothing Left by Cam

I wanna know what it feels like To disappear into you and Never have to say goodbye

You strike the match in your hand carefully, watching the flame as it glows a bright orange against the darkness while Steve pours salt and lighter fluid into the small barrel in front of you. The cursed music box the two of you had been chasing the last week finally being put to rest as you drop the match and watch the flames engulf the small oak chest.

“I’m glad that’s done,” Steve remarks quietly and you nod your agreement before turning to walk back inside the cabin. Your feet are starting to ache from the black heels you are wearing and the knee length navy chiffon dress – while flattering – is not nearly as comfortable as you would like.

“Hey –” Steve’s voice stops you as you reach for one of the heels while the two of you make your way inside the warmth of the cabin. “Not so fast.”

“What?” you straighten back up as you glance to him puzzled.

He still looks ridiculously handsome in his three-piece black suit – perks of having to attend a benefit auction to retrieve the music box. You watch as Steve moves towards Donna’s record player in the corner – wondering what he’s up to.

“We’ve been caught up with this case all evening,” he comments, carefully lifting the needle up and placing it on the record before he adjusts the volume. You smile as you recognize the opening guitar riffs to the Stones’ Wild Horses. Steve turns toward you, offering his hand and you take it, a laugh escaping as he twirls you into him. “I want to enjoy you – like this.” His hand rests against your hip as he takes in your appearance once more.

When his blue eyes land on yours you feel the air leave your lungs and you wonder if that feeling will ever go away.

You hope not.

You find yourself questioning more often now If this is what other people in love truly feel or is everyone else just faking it?

He leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips and it feels as if the whole world disappears.

The sound of the heavy door closing brings you out of your reverie and you find yourself no longer in Donna’s cabin, but instead you are surrounded by bookshelves. The momentary warmth you’d felt slips away as the numbness returns and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I got you a salad,” a voice says softly as a paper sack is placed on the table in front of you, followed by another identical sack. “And a burger – I wasn’t sure which one you’d want.”

“I’m not hungry,” you say barely audible.

“You gotta eat,” Dean responds sympathetically. “You need your strength.”

“What strength?” you glance up at the man standing beside you. “He took it – remember? I’m not a vampire anymore – he took it away. He took everything.”

He takes a deep breath before placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t –” your voice cracks, and you place your head in your hands. “I’m spiraling – everything is wrong.”

“Hey,” his voice is soft, but stern as he crouches beside the chair you sit in. “Look at me.”

You do as he says, eyes brimming with tears and you watch his features soften just a bit.

“I promise you – we will find Steve,” Dean states. “Chuck wanted us – not him.”

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