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cononeillbreastingboobily · 2 years

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If Stede and Ed finally got together, and Stede wanted to ✨ get it on ✨ with Ed but had no idea what to do, Izzy would show him how it's done, just like a good first mate would for his captain.

Plus he would probably tell Stede of all things Ed secretly loves in the bedroom, which, if he didn't learn those from sleeping with Ed himself, he probably heard or saw a liiittle too much for his own liking over the years.

They go through one of such lessons (clothes on of course, as Stede might be a pirate, but he's still a gentleman pirate, and even if he were to even try and suggest any degree of undress, Izzy would gouge his eyes out) and Ed walks in on them one time. Stede is simply embarrassed, while Izzy could throw himself overboard. Ed, however, turns the whole situation into a joke, saying things like "gentlemen, if you wanted to, ahem, spend some time alone without me or the crew, all you had to do was ask :D".

Stede goes on to explain that it was nothing like that, and all the while Izzy gets so red in the face one could think he was about to explode right there and then.

They separate that day and never have those "lessons" again. If asked, neither Izzy nor Stede would tell you the truth about whether they have pictured themselves in an intimate situation with the other since they started their little training, or even before then. Izzy, of course, would say something along the lines of "what the fuck did you just say to me? get back here so I could cut out your fucking tongue!". Stede, in a typical Stede fashion, would trail off from the conversation and change the topic entirely.

And yet neither could ignore the way they looked at each other since that day. Stede couldn't help observing the motion with which Izzy fixed his glove from that moment forward. It felt so 17th century, to feel yourself... Lose focus, from the sight of a simple wrist or a peek of a hand. And yet, there he was.

And Izzy was in no better condition. He'd catch himself staring a little too hard for a little too long in Stede's direction whenever he had an especially loosely fitted shirt on, and a bit of chest hair could be visible just above the fabric. He'd get increasingly frustrated with himself, as even Stede's laugh or the way that he smiles would immediately catch his attention, even from across the deck.

He couldn't take it much longer.

He was about to depart in a dinghy one night, gone forever, when, after having a lengthy conversation with Ed, Stede sorted through his feelings and decided to pursue Izzy just as he'd pursued Ed, with just as much warmth and flair and ✨ Stede charm ✨. He approaches Izzy to tell him as much.

Izzy, of course, is dumbfounded to learn this. Because it's a joke, right?

But alas, it is not.

And Stede decides to prove it by pulling one of the the "stun moves" Izzy has taught him during their lessons.

Which included grabbing Izzy and dipping him low, and then kissing him silly.

At least... Until then they ended things on the dipping.

And it is super effective, when he does the whole thing.

Izzy found kissing his second captain strangely enjoyable, even if he was mad at Stede for surprising him so suddenly.

But their kiss ends, and Izzy's face changes somewhat. And Stede sees that, and knows what it means. He happily calls out to the captain's quarters:

"You were right Ed, I think it worked!"

Ed shows up at the door, dressed in one of Stede's fancy nightgowns from the auxiliary wardrobe. On his face - a knowing smile.

Izzy got even more confused than before.

"Wait, boss? This-" here he pointed at Stede, then himself, then at Stede again. "You're okay with this?"

Ed lazily strolled in their direction.

"Oh, Izz. How could I not be? I care about both of you, and you make each other happy. There's nothing wrong with that. Plus-"

Ed stood facing them both, one hand on Stede's shoulder, one on Izzy's. He gave a peck to Stede's cheek, and then he did the same on the little "x" marking Izzy's face.

"-We don't own each other. Okay?" Ed finished.

Izzy stared at him, thoughts running through his head. Finally however, he replied:

"Okay. Thank you, boss."

Ed patted their shoulders and started making his way back to the captain's cabin.

"You really don't have to call me that anymore, Izzy. But anyways, I'll leave you boys to it, yeah?" he said with a wink, and disappeared behind the door.

Izzy looked after him, until he heard Stede clear his throat.

"Now-"

"Where were we?" Izzy interrupted, and pulled Stede closer by the collar, shutting him up with a kiss.

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luzhalley · 2 years

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My boy has had enough. This was supposed to be shitpost but oh well.

¿Do you think that kenny is cute? I def do-

#villainous #villanos #dr flug #dr flug fanart #villainous dr flug #fanart villainous #villainous fanart #fanart #my fanart #this was supposed to be one sentence #this was supposed to be shitpost

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months

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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #mdzs au #lan wangji #nie huaisang #Yungmeng Jiang training arc AU #This is the *first* part of what was supposed to be a much longer comic (LWJ's morning routine in full).#I'll finish the remaining part as a reblog to this post! I just think this is the funnier chunk.#Lan Wangji absolutely is the kind of person who has a perfect internal alarm clock for when it is time to get up.#He already has a dedicated sleep schedule. He is accurate within 10 seconds of 5am every day.#I think the Jiang disciples are most likely used to waking up around 6:00-7:00am #But the allure of having a guaranteed time keeper getting you up in the morning is worth the earlier hour.#I imagine they started outside lwj's door and slowly moved closer as the weeks went on.#Now LWJ has to cope with being way too warm in the night from all the extra body heat.#LWJ is not a fan of this but they scamper off immediately after he wakes up and they at least show initiative to follow routine.#NHS joins in only because he is a chronically heavy sleeper and needs this level of intervention to get up early.#His boldness would be a death sentence in the cloud recesses but here? Whole new game.#Yungmeng Jiang isn't a lawless land. It's just a land with different laws.#And one of those laws is to forcefully domesticate the catboy coded Lan boy through any means necessary.#Completely different tangent: I drew the thumbnail for this before I did comic 134. I then realized they had the same visual gag.#So I had to space this one out so it didn't seem like I repeated the waking up joke. That's my secret and all of you have to keep it.#And in my land the law is that snitches get itches (telepathically transfers hives onto your body)

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omegalomania · 1 year

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people bitching and moaning about fob "turning mainstream" as if that was never the entire point of fall out boy. that's In the goddamn dna of the band, it's baked into the ethos of why the band started in the first damn place. to be accessible to kids and especially to girls, who were often ridiculed and shunted out of the hardcore community. to be a gateway to bands that aren't as mainstream. to comment on the society they live in, as they live in it. people act like fall out boy "turning mainstream" was some kind of "betrayal" when from the start they were seizing on the trends of the time, putting their unique, unhinged fall out boy spin on them, and shooting them back out as a funhouse mirror. take this to your grave capitalized on the pop-punk zeitgeist that was big in the late 90s and early aughts and put their own spin on it: enmeshed catchy choruses with high-dexterity lyrical & linguistic skewerwork. infinity on high was basically a massive critique of the scene they were in - this ain't a scene it's a goddamn arm's race is a fucking thesis statement on what it is to be catapulted into fame in an industry that wants nothing more than a thousand cookie-cutter copycat acts of a successful formula, and fall out boy WAS the formula everyone desperately wanted to emulate. american beauty / american psycho blended sampling and modern hip-hop stylings with polished pop-rock and pointed those songs back at the snapshot of the 2010s we all lived in: commenting on racial injustice and the freeze-frame nature of relevancy. but even then they weren't doing it quite right - because fall out boy never does things quite right, they're never quite conventional, whether it's wentz's darkly confessional lyrics double-bagged in metaphor or stump's distinctive clear tenor or trohman's inescapable rock 'n roll edge or hurley's thunderous hardcore-punk-rock soul.

this band has always been too clever for its own critics, is the thing. but then, they always knew that. they knew they had a thriving fanbase of largely female fans so they were going to be mocked and belittled and ridiculed. they weren't quite right. they weren't quite so easy to market. pete wentz had to have all his hard edges filed off and cut down to size, skin lightened, literally whitewashed ("i feel like a photo that's been overexposed") to hell and back, even as he was marketed as the pretty boy of the band. and the other three members never even bothered with the spotlight: the soft-spoken vegan straightedge anarchist drummer and the wry, wisecracking, whip-clever guitarist who was more concerned with being the connective tissue than anything and the reticent vocalist who sang the words and wrote an awful lot of music but wasn't really the guy fronting the band. wentz's charisma carried the band, because the rest of them were really just some guys and never aspired to be anything else.

fall out boy is too pop. fall out boy is too mainstream. fall out boy isn't the real poster child of the emo movement. other bands are better. even within fall out boy's own narrative, they are repeatedly ignored, sidelined, and belittled, as though they weren't one of the only acts from the big 00s emo-pop movement to successfully not just survive the transition from the aughts to the '10s, and then later from the '10s to the '20s, but to thrive in it without banking on nostalgia. this band was supposed to be a flash in the pan. they weren't supposed to last and they weren't supposed to get big. they started off in joe's parents' attic because joe and pete were sick of how exclusionary and homophobic the hardcore scene was.

i think it's high time that people acknowledge how fall out boy has repeatedly succeeded where most of their other peers failed. cunning, clever, capable, and hyper-aware of the space they occupy in the culture surrounding them. that they are just as powerful, important, and artistic as any of the other bands in the scene that others might deify at their expense. that they deserve a hell of a lot more respect than they get from critics or hardcore punks who think they sold out. i hope one day they get that recognition. because they've earned it, time and time again, and the more i see people pushing back against that, the more certain i become of its inevitability.

#fall out boy #fob #*making poasts #this was supposed to be a pithy 3 sentence post but i kept going #just another Day In The Life of someone who sees a lot of garbage takes and gets tired #mostly i just shrug em off cause you know. what else is new. this has been going on since day 1.#but it saddens me. it saddens me that these guys are ridiculed for this still.#it breaks my heart that patrick isnt taken seriously as a composer in some circles because hes the guy from fall out boy.#it breaks my heart that people won't acknowledge pete as one of the most distinctive lyricists of our generation.#it breaks my heart that andy and joe are discredited and shit on within metal circles specifically because they're in fall out boy.#i hope they know that we get it. we get it and we're proud of them. no matter what.

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comradekatara · 6 months

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normally when i engage with fiction i view the events being depicted through the framing the narrative imposes, but because i am so invested in these characters when it comes to atla im legitimately like “i bet sokka was actually really scared when he got stuck in that hole. he’s spent his whole life preparing to die a martyr, and here he has to contend with the fact that he may die a stupid, insignificant death, failing to provide food for his friends while they hone skills he lacks and is further devalued for, hungry and alone. and yet this existential crisis is brushed aside. first, by his own coping mechanism, making jokes to distract himself from his ultimate fear, and secondly, by his friends, who barely give him a minute of their time and cut him off from a rare moment of true sincerity for the sake of admiring aang’s flashy new earthbending skills. the fact that this entire subplot is played for laughs thus becomes even more sick and twisted, as sokka’s greatest fear, that he is truly worthless, is fully realized, and his entire existence is shown to be nothing more than an absurd, frivolous joke, with no punchline but his own insignificance.”

like what is WRONG with me….

#THIS POST WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE TOO #IT WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE THAT ONE SENTENCE AND THEN I KEPT WRITING #AAAHHH 😓😓😭😭😭😭#sokka #analysis #i guess!#i guess. that is what this is #i rly need to finish that sokka nanami essay fr fr #esp now that i have an utena sideblog too (@saionjeans) (i don’t rly care abt saionji tbh i just love that joke)#anyway.#il faut imaginer sokka heureux #they stuck that boy in a hole for 20 minutes

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melverie · 4 months

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Love how there are four main reasons why Lucifer is as avid a Demonus Connoisseur™ as we know him to be, and how all of them hurt to think about

There's the obvious, of course. All the seraphs go out drinking together. It's a little keepsake to his time as an angel, in a way. So Lucifer sits in his moonlit study down in the Devildom, only the shadows of leaves gently swaying in the wind keeping him company, pouring himself half a horn of the finest Demonus in his collection. All to honor those he once called his brothers and sisters as they fill up each other's cups and bask in the warm sunlight of the Celestial Realm

Ah, but he's not just drinking to mourn days lost to the past! He also has reason to celebrate every once in a while! Any small improvement to his and Satan's relationship is deserving of a generous reward, don't you think? See? That's a perfectly normal reason to treat yourself to a few more horns!

A couple of bottles into his system, and all the things that usually plague his mind seem so distant all of a sudden. It all turns into nothing but hazy fragments, and it's hard to piece it all back together. Although it's not like Lucifer would even want to in the first place, not when it finally makes all the things he craves to forget about slip from his mind. About the sister he failed to save. About the brothers he damned alongside him. And the crushing guilt that accompanies his every waking moment...

And then finally, there's this one glaring issue that everyone always seems to overlook when it comes to Lucifer—"his" Pride. That awful, wretched little sin, everpresent as it dictates his tone of voice, his every gesture, every word he utters, every single little facet of his personality. Lucifer—"Avatar" of Pride and the morning star himself—is nothing but a prisoner of his own mind, a mere puppet for "his" Pride to control

And so, he drinks. Drinks until even the cheapest bottles in his collection are empty. Not that it matters much to him, at least he can finally free himself from the constant pain and heartbreak that is looming over him, even if it's just for a handful of insignificant hours in this sheer endless torture that is his immortal life. After all, he can't drown in his sorrows as long as he keeps the Demonus flowing

By the time only one last bottle is left, Lucifer stares straight into the darkness of his study, his hair completely disheveled and tears cling to his face. He has long since collapsed on the ground as he brings the very last bottle of Demonus to his lips, not stopping until he has gulped down every last drop

Right now, the Avatar of Pride is nothing but a shadow of his former glory. But oh, is there a better escape from drowning in his sorrows than to keep this sweet, sweet Demonus flowing?

#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE SENTENCE LONG HELP WHAT HAPPENED (<- brainrot took over. that's what happened)#i genuinely think pride is the most interesting out of the seven sins simply because the way it affects lucifer is so quiet #but that's a post for another day #ALSO the fourth reason is actually canon so that's cool :)#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #;mel's analyses

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penny00dreadful · 9 months

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Eddie would sing Fat Bottomed Girls to Steve every chance he got.

On stage in front of thousands with grabby hands.

In the kitchen when Steve was "just trying to cook, Eds, for Christ's sake" giving his ass a few taps in time to his singing just to see it jiggle.

In the car where Steve had literally no escape and had to put up with it with a little frowny frown because he was trying so hard not to smile.

And when Robin had suspiciously been trying to keep his attention away from the stage at their wedding, Steve knew something was coming.

Steve had been expecting something to happen because Eddie was nothing if not a performer and to have an event centred around the two of them with their closest here to celebrate, he'd be more surprised if nothing happened.

But when whatever had been playing in the background faded out and he heard Eddie's voice boom out through the speakers-

Are you gonna take me home tonight?

Steve's eyes and Robin's grin grew wide at the same time.

Oh, down beside that red firelight

He hid his face in his hands, there were already whoops and wolf whistles from their gathered guests in his direction.

Are you gonna let it all hang out?

"Oh, don't pretend to be going bashful." Robin shouted at him, to be heard over Eddie's singing. "I've had to listen to too many horny thoughts from you about this song, you're so fucking in love right now, aren't you?"

Fat bottomed girls

You make the rockin' world go 'round

Steve lifted his face, unable to hide his huge smile any longer. Robin gave him a shove in the direction of the dance floor where the crowd parted for him with nudges and slaps on the shoulder.

Hey, I was just a skinny lad

Never knew no good from bad

But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh

Eddie was in his fucking element, bouncing around the small stage like it was Madison Square Garden.

He finally caught sight of Steve, who was red faced but couldn't stop grinning as he watched his now husband wave one hand down like he was mapping out curves.

Left alone with big fat Fanny

She was such a naughty nanny

Hey, big woman

You made a bad boy out of me

He fought the urge to hide his face again, especially when he remembered just who was here.

Hopper, Joyce, Mrs. Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, fucking Wayne was here watching him getting sexually serenaded.

Eddie continued to sing while the Corroded Coffin boys played through with matching exasperated but delighted grins, obviously having a great time simultaneously playing and embarrassing the shit out of Steve.

He was drawn to Eddie like a magnet. He didn't even remember stepping closer but next thing he knew he was in front of the stage, a one man recipient to a show just for him.

Eddie reached out and for one terrifying moment, Steve thought he was going to touch his hair.

He did not spend hours on it this morning only for it to be messed up before one of them got to be bent over their honeymoon suite bed later that night.

Eddie seemed to have realised that too, at the last second redirecting his hand to stroke over Steve's cheek.

Oh, but I still get my pleasure

Still got my greatest treasure

Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me

The stage was low and it wasn't huge so Steve was only really at chest height, but he could tell in that moment and with those lyrics, all Eddie wanted to do was thrust his pelvis in Steve's face but thankfully he kept himself on a leash even though everyone behind Steve was still whooping and hollaring.

When the song finally closed out, Eddie threw the mic behind him, not much caring where it landed. Luckily for everyone's eardrums Grant managed to snatch it up with a scowl before it clattered to the ground.

Eddie wasn't paying attention though. He'd planted one hand on either of Steve's shoulders and jumped down from the stage, trusting that he'd be caught.

Which he was.

Eddie wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and Steve had to try very hard to not let his hands wander, so instead he locked his wrists under Eddie's thighs, maybe, just maybe getting away with a little pinch to the ass that only the Corroded Coffin boys could see.

They were extremely unbothered. They'd seen it all before. They'd seen much worse before.

"You're a menace." Steve grumbled, still unable to keep his smile away.

Eddie hummed in agreement, looking down on him from his higher position. "Your menace."

"My menace."

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feelbokkie · 2 months

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JAIL RIGHT FUCKING NOW I AM SO SERIOUS

#felix lasted one day out of jail #hanji was supposed to be out Saturday and now he’s extended #and channie is also getting an extended sentence #feelbokkie rambles #seungmin look away

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cerise-on-top · 1 month

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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!

now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'

the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)

sorry for the super long ask, lol :')

Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D

Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages

Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.

Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.

Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he��ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.

Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai x reader #I wish I knew more languages than I actually do #I'd love to be at least trilingual. I suppose one of these days I shall learn another language #I've already started the same one twice but I never got too far since something always came inbetween #Oh what I'd give to be lovey dovey with someone in three languages #I wish I still knew Italian. I learned it in school but I never needed it again #I also had Latin. If you give me a dictionary and some time I could probably translate some sentences still #or maybe not. it's been three years now #but I suppose being cringe in German and my own dialect is just fine #I've always loved speaking my dialect to my best friend who only knows English #I've also always loved texting him in said dialect #“Your impossible to Google translate German” I love that guy so much he's so silly #I will never cease my silly dialect!! that's why there will be plenty of König to go around :-) I don't care. he speaks my dialect #gonna hit y'all with a good old Servas griaß di #König is my little Barbie doll: I make him do whatever I want #sorry this derailed into König again. I just love shaking and rotating him violently in my head ^^

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crowliphale · 9 months

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get your mind outta the gutter, hawkeyes

#my art #artwork #crow does art #digital art #dracule mihawk #one piece #op mihawk #one piece mihawk #op koshiro #shimotsuki koshiro #mihokoshi #i think its so silly that koshiro's favorite food is watermelons #SPECIFICALLY eaten when hes outside on the engawa. hes so sentimental i love him #top 13 sentences i never thought i'd type about this man. huh.#this was just supposed to be a sketch btw lol

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aroaessidhe · 3 months

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2024 reads / storygraph

A Tempest of Tea

first in a YA fantasy duology

follows a young immigrant woman in a fantasy Victorian city who runs a tearoom that doubles as an illegal bloodhouse for vampires at night

when their business is threatened, she gets a chance to save it by teaming up with her best friend, a rich girl with a talent for forgery, a vampire artist, and a mysterious city guard to do a heist to infiltrate high society and collect a logbook that may reveal the extent of the corruption in the city

fantasy city with a masked ruler, arthurian elements, themes of colonialism

#a tempest of tea #aroaessidhe 2024 reads #This has a really cool concept and worldbuilding and some fantastic characters!#I like the discussion of immigration and colonialism (I appreciate a story in this niche that’s not so white)#I like arthie and jin’s relationship and Arthie is a great character.#It definitely feels like the first half of a story - like is the arthurian stuff gonna come up more or is it just...#the mc is called arthie and has a gun she pulled out of a stone. Is there more to that lmao. it does end on a cliffhanger too.#The main thing I *didn't* like is that the middle kinda turns into…miscellaneous events purely to facilitate the characters being attracted #to each other. good for them I guess but i don’t care.#(I probably should have expected that based on the author’s other duology so that's on me I guess)#(the romances also feel on the older side of YA)#I also found that the audioboook narrator paused slightly too long between sentences.#I love having author interviews at the end of audiobooks!#which also directly called me out for guessing the obvious twist but not the multiple others directly after #(granted the obvious one I was like... genuinely confused whether it was supposed to be a twist bc I thought we already knew that)#also what's up with the coconut. lol. why that specifically

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louroth · 11 months

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last name reveal for IDREN//IDA + their moodboard character sheet

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #dating sim #idren/ida #This was supposed to be a patreon exclusive but I am almost finished with present preset!L too so I am so giddy to share this one here >:3 #YES. YES. the progress report. I prommy it's coming. I hate sounding corporate and talking diddlywaddly about what I have accomplished.#THERES STUFF AND THINGS HAPPENING (if you see my weeklies you know) I'M DOING MY BEST & LEARNING & THRIVING #but enjoy this while I squint at paragraphs and overthink every sentence of the prog rep ksdjfhskjdhfskjdfhlskdf #oh also??? should I have added that Id's safeword is mercy??? maybe I should. *squints at kairel* you'd need that wouldn't you #Id would s t u t t e r it out whimpering and pathetic. that's it im keeping the nasty on disc but iykyk LMAO

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didhewinkback · 2 years

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Something Old

Written for @harry-on-broadway's fic challenge.

Written prompt used: "What's this, then?"

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

A/N: the pic represents more of an overall vibe rather than a definite representation of what he is wearing. but the vibes of the pic are absolutely accurate. some liberties have been taken with accurate chronology of his dating life bc this is fiction town usa baby. takes place during the fine line era, in a world with no covid. dream world. please let me know what you think!

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There was a huge water fountain, right in the middle of the hotel courtyard, making criss-cross patterns into the pool below and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It was soothing, in a way. Or at least you were trying to force the concept of being soothed upon yourself, trying to focus in on the sounds of the water and the lights reflecting off of it. Anything to not think about the background noise of the party, of the clinking glasses and what that sound would mean, to think of him – nope. Back to the fountain.

Your mother cleared her throat. Her eyes had been burning holes into the side of your face but you couldn’t face her or that look of pity in her eyes. Your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase as you kept your eyes on the water. Just keep staring at the water.

“Did you call an Uber or…?”

“I’m just going to take the rental back to the city and go from there.”

“You could always take it back to the house. Bit of a drive but…”

The thought of walking into your childhood home, alone, while his own childhood home sat right next door was too much to bear. “I don’t,” you cleared your throat as your voice caught, “I don’t think I can be surrounded by all those memories. God, Mum, this is so embarrassing –”

“Oh, baby, no. Come here” Your mom rushed over to you and wrapped her arms around you in a death grip as you let yourself collapse into her arms, feeling 8, 15 and 26 all at once. The tears which you had been trying to save for the drive poured out of you, your mum shushing you as you buried your face into her shoulder. She stood there and held you tight, letting you release all the emotions you had pent up since you got here. You had never had an explicit conversation with her about your true feelings for Harry but with the way she was holding you, you knew you never had to. She knew. The thought made you tighten your arms around her, burying your head a little deeper as the tears flowed. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m getting your dress soaked,” you said, trying to pull your head away and pull yourself together before your mum tightened her arms around you, holding you in place.

“Could give two shits about my dress.” “Mum!” “I’m serious, I don’t care. Not when my baby is weeping in my arms.”

“Okay, I’m hardly weeping,” you huffed a laugh as you took a step back and wiped your face, looking into your mum’s kind eyes, glassy in their own right.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Tell him what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head before she even finished her sentence. You had tried that, years ago. Winter break 2013. He had been gone almost two years, touring and traveling the world while you watched from afar at uni. You had walked down your stairs, rehearsing your big speech in your head while smoothing down the new skirt you bought for the occasion, only to look up and find him in your living room with the most famous pop star in the world in his arms. He had brought her home to “meet the family” he said. Which included you. You were just family. And he dated pop stars now. A gut punch that you quickly healed with copious amounts of tequila. And a drunken hookup with a boy from sixth form. It was fine. You were fine.

You had been best friends since you were 8, neighbors since you were 6, and for years you brushed off your crush, chocking it up to an extension of affection for your first male friend - the boy who made you laugh until you cried, who always needed help with math homework, who dragged you onto the dance floor when everyone else was too nervous to at that first school dance. The boy who stood in front of you in his bedroom, nervously singing along to a Youtube track before asking you if this was something you thought he could do, for real. The boy who invited you to join him a few weeks each summer, riding bikes through muggy Colorado streets for late night froyo or hiking those Hollywood hills. The boy growing into a man who called you when you were studying at the library, in the middle of the night halfway across the world, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure and needing a piece of home to slow his exhausted, racing mind.

This crush was something you thought you would grow out of. Except you didn’t. His life had become drastically different than the one you two had shared in your small hometown but whenever you were together, it was like no time had passed. After that fateful winter break, you had tried to keep your distance but each time you saw him, you were sucked right back in.

There had been more moments - falling over yourselves during a drunken McDonalds run, or during a screaming match in the middle of a very competitive round of charades, or when he bounded off stage after that first solo night at MSG, wrapping you in his arms and holding tightly - moments where the words were about to burst from your chest, overwhelmed by the love you felt for him. But you knew it would never work - he wasn’t interested. And, even if he was, you were nowhere near his league. Even his one night stands were straight off the Forbes 500 list. Not that you were ashamed of yourself or who you had become, you just knew, for many reasons, that there was a disconnect there. He wasn’t interested. You were family. You had to keep it that way.

You steeled yourself to get over it, to be okay with just being his friend. And you had convinced yourself it worked. You had met his girlfriends over the years; no longer tearing yourself apart in comparison as you blossomed into that confidence that comes with getting older and finding your place in the world. Falling into relationships with some really great guys, guys that you really cared for, who made you laugh and met your family on your birthdays. But no matter how hard you tried, those relationships always seemed to fizzle out because you never felt that spark. That once in a lifetime spark. That spark you felt the second you saw him yesterday - a smile blooming across his face as his arms lifted up in a cheer when he locked eyes with you. All that hard work shot to shit in an instant.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head more fiercely, desperately trying to get those memories to fall out of your head forever. “That’s not how he sees me, Mum. It’s not - this is just something I have to get over. But I can’t do it here.”

Her face fell, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Okay,” she said, looking at you with new determination. “So, what’s the story? Work emergency? Appendicitis? Stomach virus? Uncontrollable pooping?”

“Mum! Oh my god!”

“What?!” she shrugged, her eyes glowing with a playful twinkle as she watched the smile grow on your face. “I just feel like the more details we provide, the more believable it will be.”

“Whatever you have to do,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pulled her into another hug.

“It’ll be okay, lovebug,” she whispered in your ear. “This pain won’t last forever. He’s not the be all, end all.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” you said softly, tightening your arms around her, unable to stop yourself when more tears began to fall. “I really have to get going, I don’t want anyone to see -”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got progressively louder as the doors swung open. Your stomach sank as you heard the last voice you wanted to hear. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two. Ang? - Oh. ”

“Yeah?” Your mom turned to face him, blocking you from view as you furiously wiped away your tears.

“Mum’s been looking all over for you. Something about a bet involving tequila shots…”

“Ah, was hoping she’d forget about that. Tell her I’ll be in in a bit, just need to help this one -”

You cleared your throat, keeping your head down as you nudged her forward. “No, Mum, it's fine. Go in. I’ll be okay.”

She turned to look at you, eyes searching. “But you’re not feeling. well.” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on your forehead. Oh, god. No Oscar in her future then.

You looked at her, feeling his eyes on you, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Really. Have fun”.

“Love you.” She kissed you on the cheek as she squeezed your hand, whispering, “Be brave”.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you heard her walk inside, closing the doors behind her. Enveloping the two of you in silence. You looked up, taking him in for the first time all night. He knocked the wind out of you.

His white suit was tailored to perfection, the dress shirt open in a deep v down his chest, revealing the smattering of tattoos that you swore he’d regret one day, but that only looked perfectly in place as his muscles grew more defined. His hair, curls tousled just the way you liked it. The smattering of scruff along his chiseled jawline, held tightly as he took in the scene in front of him. He looked good.

You can’t imagine what you looked like. Tear tracks streaking down your face and hair messy from how often you had been nervously running your hands through it. Dressed for a cocktail hour while wearing your sneakers for the quick getaway. You had to get the fuck out of here.

“Thought only the bride was supposed to wear white.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. This was not the time for banter. You should be in the car already, leaving all this behind you. You snuck a look at his face, his green eyes locking with yours, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked right at you, his deep voice rumbling as he shot back, “Wanted to be dramatic. It’s my day too.”

“Classic H.” you said. You could not get your feet to move. Your car was no more than 10 paces away and yet here you were, frozen under his questioning gaze.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked, as he took in your suitcase, the car keys fiddling around in your hand. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Uh, a work emergency came up.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it’s not -”

“Your mum just said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shit. “Both things are true. H, please just - I have to go.”

“No, I think I have the right to know why my best mate is leaving my wedding weekend early. Why you’re standing out here with your mum and - are you - were you crying?” He looks desperately confused, eyes searching your face. “Need you to talk to me.”

He takes a few steps towards you when he notices your hands visibly starting to shake. “Hey, hey…” He reaches his hands towards yours as you quickly put your hands on your suitcase, pulling it towards you. You take a few steps back and try to take a few steadying breaths.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice when you're gone. Haven’t been able to find you all night, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Wanted to spend time with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the look on his face, trying to not think too hard about those words. Trying to be casual, nonchalant. Trying to be anything but the crumbling mess you were in front of him. “C’mon, I’m not even in the wedding party it’ll be better -”

“Is that what this is about? You knew we were keeping it small on purpose, didn’t think you needed to be in the bridal party to know how much y’mean to me but I guess–”

Anger suddenly swirled in you, turning your cheeks warm, eyes blazing. As if you’d be out here having a full mental breakdown over something so trivial. You scoffed, “You think I’m out here crying because of some arbitrary fucking title? You know that’s never mattered to me when it comes to you.”

“Then WHAT is going on with you?”

“Can you please just drop it and let me –”

“It’s my fucking wedding, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. I need you here and you’re just standing outside with your car keys and your fucking suitcase like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing–

“Oh my god, how can you even say that – ”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’m flying blind here you won’t TALK to me–”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU MARRY HER!”

The words were loud, louder than you meant them and out faster than you could stop them. Fuck. This was. Not. How This. Was supposed to go. You shut your eyes. Your mind was racing, mouth trying to move to make an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything and then you hear a derisive snort, your eyes flying open to see his, suddenly colder, taunting.

“‘S that what this is about, then? Never did like her, did you? Always wondered when we’d have this conversation. Thought you may have been a little more fair and try to do it before my wedding weekend but hey, guess I’m not the only one who can be dramatic.”

You stood there, gaping at him, tears pricking your eyes as he glared back at you.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s so wrong with her?”

Oh, he misunderstood. You could let him think this is the truth, that you’re just some bitchy childhood friend who never approved of the fiancée and waited until the last moment to make a dramatic exit. You could leave right now and let him think that. But he needed to know the truth, as painful as it may be. You began to shake your head, the tears seconds from pouring out.

“No, that’s not - you’re not understanding me.”

“Am I not? Seems pretty clear to me” His tone was still taunting, angry. He had every right to be. This was supposed to be the biggest weekend of his life and here he was, out here with you, instead of partying with all of his loved ones mere feet away. The thought of it made the tears spill over, a small sob escaping you. Through the tears you saw his face drop, his brows furrowing.

“It’s not her. She’s lovely. She’s so lovely and you should be in there with her. You could be marrying fucking Beyonce and I wouldn’t be okay with it. I … I can’t watch you marry someone else without - without wishing it was me instead.”

You watched as he froze, his eyes widening. In shock? Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure.

You took a deep breath and kept going, continuing to dig yourself into the grave of your own making. Every part of you was screaming at you to stop, but now that you got started, the words kept coming, “I’ve been in love with you since we were like 15. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I…god, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes. You’re the first person I want to make laugh with a new lame joke, the first person I want to share good news with. The first person I want to do anything with. You’re kinda it for me. Always have been. You’re just my favorite person in the world. And I –”

You shook your head, cutting yourself off. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your cheeks burning. You stand there, slightly panting, watching him watch you, his own eyes glassy, his own breath coming in fast spurts. Neither of you dared to move.

You stand there, watching as your confession explodes between the two of you, helpless to do anything but stand in the carnage. It is deadly silent. A minute passes, then another. It could be five, it could be twenty. What did you just do?

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.”, you said frantically, your brain finally catching up to your mouth. “You should go back inside. I’m –”

He inhales sharply, head shaking in disbelief, “Y’think - y’think I’m going to go back in there right now? After–? Fuck.”

He drags his hand down his face, bringing his other hand to meet it and standing there with his head in his hands. You wish you could get a good read on him, to tell how he’s feeling, but you just stand there, heart beating wildly, in disbelief of what you have done.

“I’ve got a reception hall full of people here.”

“I know.”

“People traveled for this.”

“I know.”

“Why - why now? I had no fucking idea. Why’d you never tell me before?”

“I tried, but the timing was never right – ”

“Yeah, well, your timing right now is impeccable,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, though his sense of humor reappearing made a zing of hope run through you. Maybe he won't hate you forever. Maybe, one day, the friendship could be salvaged. Maybe you didn’t just embarrass yourself beyond belief - though your burning cheeks indicate otherwise.

He clears his throat, pulling you out of your racing mind. “This whole time…you’ve felt this way? This whole time?”

You had been expecting to confess and run. For him to smile politely at you, let you down easy. You had spent your whole life believing this was a one sided thing. But here he was, looking utterly wrecked, his green eyes never once wavering from yours.

“Yes, H,” you told him. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

You watch as his face crumbles slightly. He brings a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, a mumbled, shaky “fuck” leaving his lips.

You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes, praying your waterproof mascara is doing its job. As much as you want to live in this fantasy of possibilities, you can’t let yourself make more of a mess of this than you already have. He was getting married. Tomorrow.

“H, the last thing I ever wanted to do is ruin this for you”, your voice shakes the more you look at him, “I will be fine. You should go back inside. I’m going to go.” You grab your suitcase and keys and start to make your way to the car. The sound of his voice calling your name stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking.

You turn to face him, finding him staring right back at you. His glassy eyes ablaze, his jaw set. You don’t make a sound.

“Please.” He closes the distance between you in a few quick strides. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to your jaw. You’re sure he can feel the warmth there, blooming at his touch. You lock eyes with him, both of you barely breathing. After a second, his thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his hot breath on your lips, the smell of mint and tequila filling your nose. You might pass out.

“This is a lot to process,'' he whispers.

“I know.” You try to pull your head back a bit to give him space, but he holds you steady in his grip. His other hand falls to your waist, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact.

“I have to go back in there. Supposed to get married tomorrow,” he whispers as his thumb starts to draw circles on your hip bone. You’re sure even he can hear your heartbeat at this point, the way it’s thundering in your ears.

“Y-you don’t owe me anything, you know”, you whisper back, his brow furrowing as he feels your breath on his lips. “Just because I told you. There’s no pressure or anything. I know, like… I’m not….I’m not expecting - I should -”

He takes a step closer to you, pulling you flush against him, effectively cutting you off. “Don’t. You can’t. ‘S not pressure, I just - I don’t know”, he takes a deep breath, “I need time. Please. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go back in there but don’t leave tonight. Please.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“Please.” His words fall across your lips as he moves to kiss your other cheek.

“Fuck. I wish…just - please don’t go.” He leans in slowly, kissing you once on the neck, right below your ear, inhaling deeply. His forehead falls to your collarbone, resting there. “You can’t go, not yet. Not until…Please. I need time to think. I don’t know. Promise me you’ll still be here later tonight.”

He lifts his head, holding eye contact with you until you nod, bringing your hand up to wrap around his wrist, moving your thumb in soothing circles. He stares at you, eyes dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His grip on your hip tightens, his eyes dropping to your lips once more.

You hear glasses tinkering, calls of his name. Shit. You take a step back, his hand sliding from your jaw to your wrist, holding a loose grip. Your cheeks burning at how caught up in the moment you got, head reeling at what this could all mean.

“I have to -” “I know.”

He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead, not once letting go of your wrist.

He steps back, his glassy eyes flitting all over your face before meeting yours once more and holding your gaze. “You’ll be at the hotel later tonight? You promise?”

“I promise,” you say, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

He nods sharply, walking backwards towards the door, eyes never leaving yours. He stops right before the entrance, quickly wiping at his eyes, shaking his head. You can see him physically brace himself as he pulls the door open, a tight smile on his lips as he gets pulled into the party once more.

The doors close, once again surrounding you with silence. With your own thoughts. The feeling of his lips on your neck playing over and over again in your mind.

Holy. Shit.

#harry styles fan fiction #harryonbroadwayficchallenge #harry styles angst #would u believe this was supposed to be posted 3 hours ago but i got so hung up on one detail that i couldnt iron out #i am a gal who loves run on sentences with commas and for that i will not apologize #fic rec #babys first fic #cant believe we are here #harry styles fic #i have read this so many times i started to hate it thats when ya know its time to post #just losing it in the tags over here #something old

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