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spicyllewyn · 7 months

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Kinktober 5. - Pregnant / lactation.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Pregnancy + lactation. (+18)

As you all know I hate Will for no real reason, this is my peace offering to a fictional character, lol.

Word count. 2K

Summary. You love babying him.

Kinktober masterlist.

Pregnancy was becoming unbearable at times; you felt heavy, your feet ached even after just a few steps around the house, and sleeping at night was turning into a daily battle. Fortunately, there was no doubt in your mind that you had chosen the right life partner.

The only thing keeping you sane right now was Will and how he went out of his way to make you happy and make this whole thing more bearable.

You always joked with him, saying that anyway, all of this was his fault, so the least he could do for you was to fulfill your cravings and massage your shoulders until you fell asleep.

Oh, and that pillow with a hole in the center that allowed you to lie face down.

"I miss my pillow," you murmured in a low tone as you remembered it. You closed the door behind you slowly.

Will's room was just as he had left it several years ago when he left home for college, where he met you. Nonetheless, you wandered around with curiosity, looking at his movie posters that perhaps only he had seen, and the occasional Lego figure that you doubted he would let his future child touch someday.

"I told you we could come up with some excuse."

"Every time you suggest we make up an excuse, it has to do with pretending that one of us died," you rolled your eyes. "Your parents are not believing it for more than two times in a row." When you had 4 walls around you for privacy, your hands went to the hem of your shirt, getting rid of it, clearly tired of wearing any type of clothing.

Will watched you from the bed, as if you were giving him a personal show. His eyes roaming over your bare skin, always lingering a few extra seconds on your breasts before looking up again and pretending that the lack of sex wasn't killing him.

You were both too introverted to simply ask at gynecologist appointments, “Hey, is it wise to have uncontrolled sex against some furniture at this point in pregnancy?” so you just assumed the answer was no.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

You frowned at his question.

"What?"

“I'm serious, I notice something different about you.”

One of his pillows landed right in his face, making him laugh. You already knew that joke too well.

“Yes, idiot, I'm pregnant.” The mattress squeaked as you lay down, only wearing your loose pants and the sports bra that had become your best friend a few days ago because it turns out that your normal bras decided they didn't want to close anymore eventually.

That was the only piece of fabric that kept your tits in place, tight and comfortable. It was also a headache for Will.

The changes that pregnancy had made in your body never ceased to amaze him even though he had analyzed each one for hours as the months passed. There was the obvious, that completely new sparkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed 24/7 and your skin seemed to be glowing more than ever.

But on the other hand there were the things that made him fantasize about the nights he stayed on the couch fucking his own hand to try to control the impulses that attacked him more times than he would like lately. Your hips became wider, your thighs were softer but oh, his favorite part was definitely your breasts.

Round, full, hard, delicious.

You were complaining about pain recently and he didn't know if that was a sign that he should help you in some way or just not touch you and wait patiently for the pain to go away in a few weeks when the baby was born.

“Did you know…” He murmured, taking his eyes off his phone for a few seconds to look at you. You did the same.

Lying together to chat or just watch stupid videos on your phones had become routine when the pain in your back kept you from sleeping or when you took too many naps throughout the day and all your energy was reserved for the night.

Yes, Will stayed up with you each and every one of those times.

"Did I know what?"

“Did you know that there are freaks who like milk?”

You frowned.

“I like milk, what's so strange about it?”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile.

“Breast milk, I mean.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, you already knew that the father of your future baby was… peculiar. He had perfectly mastered the act of bringing up the strangest topics of conversation lately. You shrugged. “It doesn't seem that strange to me.”

"No?" If your gaze hadn't returned to your phone you would have noticed the mischievous glint on his eyes.

You had taken the bait.

“No, I mean.” There you went, to reason with the madman, always engrossed in his midnight talks. “You used to suck on my boobs all the time, do you mean you wouldn't do it anymore if there was milk involved? Not to mention that you are addicted to eating me out, it wouldn't be the first time you drink some liquid from my body.”

“Mhm.” He pretended to consider your response before nodding slowly, agreeing with you. The truth is that Will had considered the possibility since he had noticed the circular stains that suddenly began to appear on your shirts. “You have a point.”

"See?" You felt triumphant to think that you had changed his way of thinking. Your gaze returned to your phone and you took the topic for granted.

“Though I don't understand how anyone could be sexually attracted to that.”

You looked up again.

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course not, don't you think it's strange?”

You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your phone and placing it on the cabinet next to you so you could face him.

"Do you want to try?"

"What?" He played dumb and you fell into his trap again.

"Do you want to try? I will show you that there is nothing strange about it.”

He again pretended to consider your proposal and with his lower lip trapped between his teeth he nodded slowly.

"Good." He also put his phone aside, sitting up in bed as if considering which position was best to settle into. His pupils dilated when he saw you take off your top.

He had been trying for a long time not to stare at your completely naked breasts or else we wasn't going to be able to control himself anymore. Your nipples were always hard, occasionally with a drop or two of milk running through them, so sensitive and delicious.

You looked at him, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"Take off your shirt." Your voice sounded like an order.

He obediently did so. His tanned skin making your mouth water and making your cheeks blush even more than usual. You were a hormonal mess a long time ago.

“How should I…?”

“Just lay your head here.” You pointed to the hill where your pregnant belly began, just below your breasts.

“But, I don't want to hurt-”

“You're not going to hurt me, Will.” Your voice came out in frustration as you gave two small taps to the area you had pointed out before. He hesitated a little before taking his place there, the weight of his head and part of his body was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, his body heat felt stupidly good.

Skin to skin contact was something you wouldn't trade for a million dollars.

“You look so pretty like this.” You whispered in a low, loving voice. A dopey smile on your face when you had the chance to see him from a completely new angle.

His huge eyes were fixed on you, he had to look up so he could fix his gaze on you while you looked down. Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a while ago you had noticed that his curls became more noticeable when his hair was a little longer than usual.

“Go on.” You cooed while he licked his lips.

You didn't have to ask twice, Will settled into his spot and took part of your breast into his mouth, pressing his tongue against your hard, sensitive nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine, resulting in a wave of pleasure directly between your legs. A delicious heat pooling on your lower abdomen.

He for his part moaned against your skin. You tasted so sweet.

“T-That's it.” You encouraged him with blushing cheeks. “Just like that, baby.”

It didn't take him long to pick up the pace he wanted, you could hear him gulp and suck, over and over again while your trembling hands ran through his hair slowly, comforting him.

You knew how much he was enjoying it when you saw him close his eyes. A couple of drops running down the edge of his lips.

“You taste so fucking good.” It was the only thing he stammered before going back to his job. He rested the weight of his body on you a little more and you didn't complain, you missed having him on you so much, caging you against any surface that he found and his body.

He raised a hand, his fingers squeezing your breast as if he wanted to squeeze out every last drop. His cock twitched under his baggy pants and you at the same time squeezed your legs together, your slick already making your underwear wet and sticky.

“Do you like it, baby?” Your voice was breathy.

It was incredible how your bodies began to react as if you were a pair of desperate teenagers, seeking relief in any friction you might have with each other.

“Help me with t-the other one, yeah? Please?" You begged when you could finally feel some kind of relief on your tit, it was no longer hard and swollen. All this time you had only needed this? If you had known before.

He looked up with dilated pupils, licking his lips with heavy breathing.

"Please." You whispered once more, your fingers giving his hair a light tug that snapped him out of the spell you seemed to have placed on him with just a few gulps of warm milk.

You gave him a push with your hand and he obeyed, tracing exactly four circles around your right nipple before leaning down again and taking it into his mouth. Now that he was almost face down to reach the other side his hips began a slow rocking motion against the bed.

You, meanwhile, squeezed your legs together, your soft thighs giving you a bit of relief that made you whimper.

“Such a good boy.” You closed your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly, finding it impossible to calm the rhythm of your breathing. Eventually you understood that it wasn't just the sensitivity of your body, it was the situation.

Your sweet voice praising him, listening to the way he swallowed and the way he whimpered desperately just from the pleasure that sucking on your tit gave him.

You were no longer hiding the clumsy movements of your hips, nor was he the way he pretended to be fucking the mattress. His sensitive cock throbing every time he rubbed against his favorite blanket.

The friction was giving delicious warmth to his needy erection and your milk was doing the same to his entire body. Warm and delicious running through his throat.

Your thrusts were making the mattress creak under your bodies although you didn't last more than a couple of seconds longer. Abstinence was your best excuse to explain why something like this had led you to have one of the most delicious orgasms of your entire relationship.

It was definitely not what you had done per se, right?

When he pushed himself up so he could kiss you you could taste the milk and his saliva combined. You understood well why the taste had driven him crazy.

“See?” You whispered against his lips. “Not weird at all.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

#life itself #will dempsey #will dempsey x reader #will dempsey smut #will dempsey x you #will dempsey x y/n #life itself will

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nadja-antipaxos · 2 years

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oscar isaac being absolutely adorable in life itself (2018)

#oscar isaac #dailytvfilmgifs #usertvfilm #userstream #chewieblog #userbbelcher #dilfsource #dilfgifs #life itself #if you wanna be tagged in oscar edits send me a message #cause i have no idea and. i do not remember #*#mine*gif #never done big gifs before

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melodygatesauthor · 5 months

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Do you have any recommendations for other writers? I love your dark writing but I’d like to hear your other favorites too

I love that you're asking me this but I hate this question because I always end up forgetting SOMEONE and then kicking myself in the ass later. - Also sorry for taking so long to answer this lol.

I'm going to write out this list but I need my friends to know that if I didn't add you, it's not because you're not near and dear to my heart, it's because I'm an idiot and my brain doesn't work right sometimes. But yeah, this is basically a list of my friends lol and other writers haha.

Not all of these writers write dark content, but I still recommend them highly.

These are writers who write for the Oscar Isaac fandom in general, or who USED to write for it.

@virtie333

@reallyrallyauthor

@astroboots

@faretheeoscar

@oddballwriter

@soft-girl-musings

@theywhowriteandknowthings

@spacecowboyhotch

@angel-of-the-moons

@ominoose

@runa-falls

@saturn-rings-writes

@inklore

@ivystoryweaver

@boredzillenial

@eyelessfaces

@spider-starry

@sweetly-yours-and-mine

@fandxmslxt69

@pimosworld

@xbellaxcarolinax

@artemiseamoon

@missdictatorme

@romana-after-dark

@theluciansystem

@psychedelic-ink

@minigirl87

@bit-dodgy-innit

@luc-k-y

@poedameronthighs

@moonknightly

@360iris

@lunalockley

@thirstworldproblemss

@foli-vora

@ninebluehearts

@charnelhouse

@juneknight

@thot-of-khonshu

@kittyofalltrades

@jake-g-lockley

@writefightandflightclub

@foxilayde

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@romanarose

@soonknight

@flightlessangelwings

@whatthefishh

@campingwiththecharmings

@dameronscopilot

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m00nsbaby · 8 months

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The calendar.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Yes, I did this only because I hate this man and I wanted to make him unhappy, lol.

Word count. 2.9k

Summary.

There is simply nothing worst than knowing how it ends.

He had his strengths, unfortunately, socializing wasn't part of that extensive list. So when you, a natural chatterbox, took a seat beside him, he knew he was condemned for the rest of the day.

Will didn't know that you were also terrible at making friends.

"I saw you in the literature class, you did great," you whispered with a smile, adhering to the library's rules, and he sighed, thinking that he only responded to teachers' questions because no one else did.

"Uh-huh."

A few seconds of silence, and you picked up on it. After having five people reject your friendship, you understood the message loud and clear. It seemed you would finish your university career without knowing a single friendly soul on campus.

Although, well, in this case, maybe it was your fault. He seemed a bit older than you. Perhaps the weariness of university life had already consumed his soul or something like that.

You didn't say anything more, you crossed your arms and buried your face in them, close to tears. It was only a few seconds before a tap on your shoulder made you turn.

Without looking at you, the curly-haired guy was pushing his coffee cup towards you, as an invitation.

Did you look that exhausted?

In silence, you took the cup and had a sip. Maybe not everything was so bad.

It became a routine; you didn't say anything when you arrived at his side at the same table that only the two of you shared.

You learned that the two free hours you had between classes were the same ones he seemed to have; you always found him in the same spot, writing as if his life depended on it. Many times, the only sound accompanying you was the noise of his old laptop, whose fan you compared to the engine of a broken-down car.

"I didn't see you in class today." It was the first time in a long time that he spoke to you as he pushed the remainder of his coffee towards you, as usual.

You drank it, trying to hide your surprise at his words.

"I overslept."

He scoffed. And you smiled when you discovered that he had more than just one facial expression.

You figured that the encounter for that day was over because he turned towards his backpack. However, instead of packing things, he seemed to be rummaging through it.

"I'll send you what we covered in class." He wrote on a post-it note before pushing it towards you; his email address was written on it.

Very formal, very him.

And you smiled even more, if that was possible.

With time, things became a bit of a frenzy for you two. Before you knew it, you were in Will's arms, already accustomed to his way of covering your eyes and hugging you from behind.

"Who am I?"

"Mhm, let me guess…" He always laughed when you pretended not to recognize him.

Slowly, he slid his hand from your eyes down your face and rested it on your neck. You knew there were people watching you, there were always people watching you at school.

Maybe everyone wondered what you had given to the quietest and most introverted guy in school to have him so enchanted with you.

Slowly, you turned around in his arms. He pressed you against his chest, and you smiled.

"Do you want to study together tonight?"

Study sessions one day turned into make-out sessions.

"Is this okay?" He leaned over your body to look at your laptop screen.

His body rose and fell with your breath, and you tried not to complain that he was crushing you with the weight of his body.

"Poor wording," he teased, and you realized it when he pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, and you pushed him.

"I won't ask for your opinion ever again."

"I tell you for your own good." He rested a hand on the pillow next to your head, looking at you with that mocking smile that annoyed you so much.

"You always say that." You pouted.

He leaned further forward, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"And you keep asking me to review it," he whispered, his huge brown eyes fixed on you.

Your hand rose, and you gently caressed the light beard that began to grow every three days. The same one that tickled you whenever he rested his chin on your neck.

"You're a lousy tutor."

Seconds of silence before he pushed forward, his lips crashing against yours with desperation.

It seemed like Will had been waiting for this his whole life. He was devouring your mouth, claiming it as his own.

This became a habit, meeting every week to kiss until your lips hurt, him squeezing your hip until his fingers were imprinted on you.

All of this under the title of "best friends."

Your story had its ups and downs, needless to say, both of your characters were somewhat special. Because even though you worked perfectly together, you both had too much pride to acknowledge your feelings for each other.

You met his girlfriends; he met every idiot who tried to be with you without realizing that you were too good for losers like them.

You argued, gave each other the cold shoulder on multiple occasions, and reconciled just as many times.

And before you knew it, you were living with him.

Not only that, you had already had an established relationship for about two years.

"Are you going through a phase?" He slid his arms around your waist, and with little force, he pulled you close to his chest as your gaze remained fixed on your phone.

"Can't I listen to One Direction albums on repeat without you judging me?"

"No." Sometimes he was so good in his performances that you had no other choice but to elbow him to take the air out of his lungs.

Still, he laughed.

"Listen, it's a masterpiece." You turned slowly. You placed one of the earphones in his ear, and you kept the other in yours.

As the music played and you hummed along, Will just stared at you. He used to do that often, but he never told you that in the meantime, he was thinking about how lucky he was.

About how he prayed to heaven, to God, to fate, to whatever was listening that life would stay like this forever. With you in his arms and your horrible musical choices.

"It's awful."

You both burst into laughter, and he didn't even complain when you hit him again. Nor did you when he pushed you beneath him, kissing you like a hungry man.

Your shared closet was full of little colorful notes - yellow, pink, green, and orange - and you read each one carefully.

Behind you, Will was biting one of his nails, looking at you as if Jane Austen herself were judging his work.

Exactly 36 minutes passed as you finished your reading, and in the end, you turned to him with a smile that brought his soul back to life.

It turns out that Will had always dreamed of being a writer, and you, better than anyone, had known this since that disastrous afternoon when you first met. In fact, you were surprised that he didn't already have four novels completed, given the speed and desperation with which he always wrote.

"It's perfect, love!" Yeah, it was just a storyboard but you still jumped into his arms, and with the coordination of two people who were born to be together, he lifted you off the ground.

Of course, you supported his dream, even if it meant quitting his job to write full-time. You knew it would be tough, exhausting for you as the primary provider, but in your eyes, it would all be worth it when you saw him dedicate his first book to you.

That had been the deal. You would get the first copy, the first page would clarify how important you were to him (that part was his suggestion), and the book, adorned with his autograph, would be part of the house's decor.

"I can't wait to read it." Your forehead rested against his.

"I love you." He told you all the time, in fact, he had been saying it since you were best friends, but this time it was different.

Special, sincere, and intimate.

Will wanted to tear out his heart and leave it in your hands, like the dramatic writer he had been for years.

And you wanted to take care of it, to take care of his heart, to take care of him, until your time ran out.

"I can't take it anymore, Will." You sobbed in his arms as he gently rocked you back and forth.

The edge of his desk was digging into your ribs every time he leaned forward, but you didn't complain; you knew he was doing his best to console you.

He could only think that it wasn't fair; you were giving up your life to let him fulfill his dream.

It turned out that when you started taking extra shifts, your body began to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion. You were utterly drained, and in recent days, your boss wasn't making it any easier for you.

"Quit," was the first thing that came to his mind.

And that made you sob even more because you were no longer a child.

Because even though he offered you the easiest way out, you knew when things were possible and when they weren't, and losing your job without a backup plan was by no means an option. That was probably the most frustrating part, not seeing a way out.

Your boyfriend's beard tickled your forehead, and when your breathing synchronized with his, you thought what you always thought. 'This will be worth it someday.'

Will was worth it. Will was worth even more than this, and you knew it. You would never have the strength to ask him to be unhappy again for a little more money.

"We should get married."

Will choked on his cereal, his gaze leaving his laptop for a few seconds.

It wasn't the first time you had made such comments, and although you thought Will was simply too dumb to understand hints, he had decided to start ignoring them.

And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe he had never been attracted to the idea of marriage, maybe part of it made him feel like his youth was slipping through his fingers.

But this time you were too direct to ignore.

"I don't know, love," he scratched his beard, finally pushing his laptop aside.

Lately, you didn't spend as much time together without him writing, without the sound of the keys resonating in your head.

Anyway, his answer was enough to make you swallow hard.

It hurt that he doubted.

"I think we don't have enough money," he cleared his throat with the excuse.

You nodded silently.

That night you turned your back on him, and he unconsciously did the same. He didn't like it at all; in fact, he didn't want to repeat the experience ever again.

"How long are we going to keep this up?" Your voice was almost a cold whisper as you stared at your coffee cup.

Of course, Will had noticed for weeks that things weren't right between you, but by his own choice, he hadn't said anything.

He knew that talking would mean facing many things, maybe hearing from your own mouth everything he had been doing wrong. Losing you.

No scenario seemed tempting to him, so he chose the best way out of all this, pretending that everything was fine, playing dumb when you hinted in some way that things weren't going well. You see, perhaps Will's worst flaw was being selfish.

He could see you losing yourself over time, little by little, every day more, rather than letting you go. Letting you be happy somewhere else.

"Keep what up, love?"

Life was weighing you down. Your job, your relationship, feeling stuck in the same place. And on occasions like these, he reminded you that you weren't ready either.

You didn't have the strength to argue.

Your eyes were tired of the constant burning of tears.

You simply shook your head, and your boyfriend's heart returned to its normal rhythm.

He didn't know how long you would hold up like this, but at least for today, things would stay as they were.

You would sleep in his arms, and he would pretend that hugging you tighter was just an involuntary move and a way to silently comfort those sobs that you always thought would never wake him up.

Sometimes you felt like you were just exaggerating. That you, like all couples, were simply going through a rough patch.

Will was the same. He always was.

The one who made you laugh, the one who saved his last sip of coffee for you, and the one who promised to share his dream of a lifetime with you, which you confirmed on an ordinary Saturday.

He invited you to dinner and temporarily got rid of that beard that always scratched you when you kissed him. He took you to the movies and let you choose the film.

You made out in the last row of seats like teenagers with little time alone, and you laughed out loud when your lipstick ended up completely on his now swollen lips. And things only got better at home.

Yes, you were one of those ridiculous couples who had matching pajamas, and that night, after many, you wore them at the same time.

"I love you." Your stomach fluttered as it had the first time he said it to you, and you kissed his lips until you got tired.

Will watched you sleep, thinking about how lucky he was. He prayed with all his heart that the day would never come when you realized that he would never be worth it, and that unfortunately, living through those terrible ups and downs wouldn't be worth it someday either.

He prayed that you wouldn't notice how his face fell when you proposed the idea of starting a family, or how the excuse of an expensive wedding went to hell when you suggested something small with his family and yours.

Both of you slept on the couch, although the next day you woke up sore, you could ignore many things if Will held you that way with his arms.

Things came to an end exactly three months later when you realized that all the previous times you said, "I can't take it anymore" didn't compare to what it truly meant to not be able to take it anymore.

Will knew it; for a week, it could have been any day.

Still, no matter how much he prepared mentally, it felt like someone was ripping his stomach out when he woke up one day and found you sitting on the couch, a coffee cup in your hand, and your suitcases in front of you.

He thought it was ridiculous that you had to leave your own home, but to the very end, you were thinking of him.

"Don't go," was all he could say, and you looked at him.

You were exhausted.

"I can't stay, Will." You sounded so determined that he almost felt happy to hear you being yourself again. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he heard you speak so firmly.

He wished it hadn't been this way.

"Every morning…" Your voice broke, along with his heart. "Every morning, I feel like I have to put my hands on my chest and check to confirm that I'm alive."

This was precisely what Will had been trying to avoid for so long.

"Please, don't do it," he repeated softly. For a writer of some of the most dramatic stories you'd ever read, he didn't seem to have much else on his mind than this, repeating over and over not to leave.

"Promise me it will be different, and I'll try, Will."

He swallowed hard.

"Make me your wife, make me your everything," you begged through tears.

And he couldn't. He couldn't even walk behind you to stop you as you left, dragging your noisy suitcases.

He knew he would dream for the rest of his nights about that broken hug and painful kiss on the cheek you gave him to say goodbye. And although his ears played him a continuous ringing, something he had only seen in movies, he managed to hear that you said something about taking care of himself.

It tore his soul apart to think that even in the last minute, you were thinking of his well-being, something he had stopped doing a long time ago.

Will's life spiraled downhill, but that's something he had predicted a long time ago. He knew that everything in him depended on you to be okay.

His writings lost their meaning, his novel remained half-finished when he realized that maybe it wasn't worth completing if he wouldn't have someone to dedicate it to in the end.

He always believed that misfortune could bring out the potential in any artist, but unfortunately, he wasn't one of those cases.

He never listened to any songs he recognized from being on the same playlist you used to play on any occasion, and his bed started to feel colder and colder, even in the summer.

The only thing he sometimes liked was that period of time between lying down and falling asleep; he liked to remember.

Sometimes, he even laughed at all those times he begged not to lose you. He wished he had done more than just pray.

#life itself #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n #will dempsey

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hermitshippingbigbang · 2 months

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Life Itself

by Samuel/Moonie (@moon1ee)

Relationship(s): Grian/Scar

Rating: Teen and Up

Word count: 13k

Summary: “Man,” Scar said. “I’m going to miss Scott. He was a really nice guy.” Grian wordlessly hummed acknowledgement, eyes closed. Scar’s lips skimmed his shoulderblade. He laughed. “But hey, we’re that much closer to winning, right?” Grian swallowed back bile, and nodded.

Or: Welcome to Life Island, where you’ll be competing to win the love of your life—and 100,000 dollars, all while you're being streamed on live television! Here’s the catch: if you get voted out, you die. It’s just that none of them know that yet-- except for Grian

Read Life Itself on AO3!

This work has multiple chapters and will be finished by March 31!

Full art pieces will be posted with their associated chapters!

Check out the amazing artists for this team:

Salm (@5almm):

Ao3

Bowie (@inkystaarart)

Kaz (@bloodcrownedking)

#hsbb 2023 #promo post #trafficshipping #scarian #smoking tw #life itself

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gifmovie · 1 year

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#gif #gifmovie #film #movie #cinema #the menu #Mark Mylod #drunk #reaction gif #old people #life itself #lol

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pork-soda-83 · 8 months

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happy birthday to the album ever… it means so much to me 🤲🥹 happy 7 years to this special special album, love you htbahb 🫶 (i did almost forget to post here yes)

#glass animals #htbahb #how to be a human being #art #chuck rogers #life itself #season2episode3 #pork soda #cane shuga #the other side of paradise

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strangerhands · 14 days

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he is too beautiful...

#oscar isaac #pls...#will dempsey #pls #life itself #him #hes so gorgeous #i want to kiss #his face #.#his eyes his eyebrows his eyelashes his lips his nose his ears his freckles his stubble his curls his skin his face his voice his talent his #everything #talkin shit #this clip is also a little funny to me tbh

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 10 months

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“To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it’s a story you can’t tell. It’s a story you almost by definition, can’t share. I’ve learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment.”

— Anthony Bourdain, In his Final Interview

[Belles-lettres]

#Anthony Bourdain #Belles-lettres #quotes #friends #life itself

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moon1ee · 2 months

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MY HERMITSHIPPING BIG BANG FIC IS OUT! READ IT NOW!!!

chapters: 4/4, complete, word count: 23k, tags: romance, horror, angst, typical romance tv shenaniganry, also not so typical romance tv shenaniganry, the island is alive and trying to kill you, babygirl i can invent stages of grief you've never even heard of, canon typical ending, fucked up ways of showing love

thank you to the lovely @bloodcrownedking, @inkystaarart, and 5alm0n for making art for life itself! words cannot express my gratitude ❤

@hermitshippingbigbang

#scarian #hermitshipping #hermitshipping big bang #mcyt fic #trafficshipping #desert duo #ao3 #moonie writes #og post #pinned #ive been working on this since july omg #hsbb 2023 #life itself

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quasi-normalcy · 2 months

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Hmm, some thoughts.

"Red Directive" - evocative of the prime directive, the omega directive, and perhaps red matter (which jives with my supposition that the secret that they're looking for is linked with the Romulan supernova somehow), and red angel (though I hope it's not that).

"Under the Twin Moons" - A return to Coppelius from PIC season 1, perhaps? Would be interesting to see how the androids have progressed over the last thousand years (and I noticed a thing that looked like that Romulan puzzle box in the trailer).

"Mirrors" might be yet more mirror universe stuff (though I hope not).

There's not too much to infer from the other titles, but "Life, Itself" sounds like it might be related to the proto-humanoids from "The Chase" (or perhaps synthetic life?).

All of this is just wildly speculative, of course.

#star trek discovery #red directive #under the twin moons #jinaal #face the strange #mirrors #whistlespeak #erigah #labyrinths #lagrange point #life itself

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god-complex-12 · 10 months

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Tristful

— Paring; Will Dempsey x male reader. Fandom; Life Itself

Tristful [ trist-fuhl ]: (adj.) full of sadness; sorrowful

Quote; “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?”

Description; Will’s sulking on a bus stop bench and suddenly someone interesting sits next to him and brightens up a little more than just his day. Disclaimer; Liquor. Breaking down. Melancholy. Description of depression. Greif. Intoxication. Reader is a lawyer. Sadness? Angst? Immature jokes. Will sucks at flirting. No use of “Y/N”

Word Count: 1.4k

Life Itself Masterlist, Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Will sat at the bus stop bench. He has a brown bag with whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on resting between his legs, his hand loosely wrapped around the neck on the bottle. His entire body leaning against the bus stop enclosure. The enclosure used to stop people from getting wet when it rains. He was already tipsy despite it being pretty early in the day. His eyes were tired and had a dead-like look in them.

A man sat next to him on the bench. Not so close to where they were touching, but the bench wasn’t that big so he wasn’t that far away from Will either. The man tugged his coat closed over his suit. He looked like a very well put together man, He dressed fancy. His hair was done. He crossed his leg over the other and gently bounced the one over the other as he waited.

The man’s appearance slightly shocked Will. He sat up a little straighter and moved the bottle of liquor to the other side of him, outside of the man’s view if he were to look over at Will. He momentarily forgot about his life and his disheveled appearance. He looked at the man. “Hey.” He could see his breath in the cold air and it made him feel like a giddy kid, thinking the smoke was cool.

He shook his head to get his head straight. “Are you waiting for the bus?” If he was sober, he would have slapped himself for the stupid question. He hated when people asked stupid obvious questions, yet here he was, at a bus stop, asking if this man was waiting for the bus.

The man could smell the alcohol off of Will, but said nothing about it. He didn’t think it was his business to point it out. “Yes, sir. I am,” He said, politely.

Will noticed that the man’s nose and ears were red from the cold air. He found it endearing for just a split second. He looked at the ground and he seemed like he was on the verge of just breaking down. Right then and there. He swallowed hard and spoke up again. “Where ya headed?”

The man smiled politely at Will. “Work.”

“Oh, what do you do for work?” Will seemed to take a little interest in what he had to say, wiping his eyes and putting a hand to his mouth as he covered it, trying his hardest not to sob.

"I have an office job." He said in a softer voice. He could tell Will was on the verge of tears. He didn't mention that, to avoid embarrassing him by chance, so he just spoke in a more gentle tone.

Will chuckled lightly. It was ironic that he had found himself in this circumstance, talking to someone so proper yet here he is. “What kind of office job? Accountant? Salesman?” Will tried his hardest to focus on the small talk with this proper man, rather than his life problems.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Cool.” Will was starting to crack. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried so hard to hide his pain. His voice sounded shaky, even more so because he desperately tried to cover it up. His voice cracked as he barely managed to say more words. “I’m a screenwriter.”

The man looked at him with a shocked expression, his eyebrows raised in interest. “Really?”

The stranger’s interest seemed to be the only thing to keep Will from breaking. He managed to look up at him and meet his gaze. His eyes were red and puffy from all the sadness, but he was doing his best to look happy. He managed a small smile. “Yeah, I write scripts and such.”

“Scripts and such?” The man repeated with a chuckle. “Is that a job or a hobby?”

Will paused. “A- a hobby,” Will said in a shaky voice. He tried his best to sound confident but he was failing. He coughed a bit and then spoke once more. “What kind of lawyer are you? Corporate, criminal, business?” Will was desperately trying to focus on something other than his grief, anything to keep his mind off of the pain he felt deep inside his soul.

“Criminal.”

“What’s it like? Like what do you do? Go to court and represent people and try to get them either the worst or best outcome, or something like that?” Will asked. He was still trying to figure out what life was like past his own misery. He couldn’t imagine doing anything other than what he used to do before life got dark, before the storm clouds came and life felt like a hopeless cause.

“Yeah, something like that.” He said with a laugh.

“Wow, that’s gotta be stressful. I can’t even imagine. Do you like your job?” Will said with a blank expression.

The man paused. “Um, to- to an extent.”

“To an extent?” Will looked surprised. He looked like he was thinking about the possibility of having a job he didn’t like. “How much do you like it on a scale of — let's say -– 1 to 10?” He was curious.

“6.9.” He said rather quickly.

Will smirked at the number. “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?” He gave the stranger a playful wink as he let out a quick laugh.

The man chuckled in embarrassment. “No, no, that was unintentional.” He looked away.

Will let out a chuckle as his cheeks blushed. His eyes met the man’s and he had a warm smile as his eyes looked into the stranger’s. “Are you sure? I think it’s a pretty genius number, if I do say so myself.” He tilted his head to the side as he said this, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks blushed as the two men locked eyes. He was clearly flirting. He looked rather attractive as he did so, and was rather happy at this moment. He was distracted from his pain and grief.

Will was shocked with himself at this new act, but for some reason, he didn’t care. He hadn’t flirted with some since her, let alone has he flirted with a man who was a stranger— yet here he was.

The man laughed and covered his mouth. He was slightly disappointed in himself for laughing at such an immature joke, but something about the situation made him crack.

Will let out a genuine laugh. He liked that the stranger had a sense of humor. “I’m sure you love immature jokes.” He said in a flirtatious tone while glancing at the man’s lips. He was a hopeless flirt. He let out a playful laugh afterwards, his eyes twinkling as he did so. “So, do you just practice criminal or do you ever do family law or something like that?”

The man paused and looked at Will before falling into a pit of laughter. He covered his mouth and leaned forward, tears pricking his eyes as he found the situation funny. "Business, dirty joke, straight back to business."

Will’s laugh slowly came to an end. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Will took the time to collect himself, and after letting out one last chuckle, he spoke once more. “Are you always this friendly? Or am I just lucky enough that you sat next to me today?” He looked at the stranger with a wide grin. His eyes twinkled and his cheeks blushed as he said this. He couldn’t help but giggle at his own words. “That sounded pretty smooth, didn’t it?”

The man started laughing again and he leaned against the bench edge. "Stop, my stomach's starting to hurt.." The bus suddenly pulled up and the doors opened and the man stood. “I have to go. Thank you. This has been a nice addition to my day.”

Will sat up a little more. “No, not without giving me your number.”

The man paused and chuckled. He pulled out a business card and gave it to him. “Message me.” He said before stepping onto the bus.

Will stared at the business card, and— for once —he felt happy.

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