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nouearth · 4 months

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once upon an eggnog.

clark kent x male reader.

summary: there's nothing better than physical touch to sober reader up after a christmas party.

wc: 1.1k. warnings: fluff, holiday!season, drunk!reader, maws!clark, worried!clark, co-worker!au, reader doesn't know clark is superman, non-descriptive mention of reader throwing up, clark has very warm hands and is a simp because he wants to make reader happy.

a/n: aaaaa, hiya! it's been a long time since i've written anything, but i'm finally on break and i thought a nice fluffy fic would help me warm up to writing again! i was going to do one of my requests, but they were all smut LOL, and i know i cannot do smut after such a long break. i need to warm up, so apologies if this is rusty! happy holidays and i'll be writing more!!

The groan you let out was feeble. Your shadow trailed behind your sluggish steps as you foraged through neighboring street lights, gravel and pavement, for a stake of its emanating warmth.

“Hey—“ A voice called out from behind you, the blanket of snowflakes and cold dulling the panic in the man’s voice. You rested your body against the lamppost, finding the warmth to be exemplary over your frosted cheeks, but unbearable for your insides.

You let out a deep sigh. The longer you stood under the light, sweat droplets began to frame your face, followed by an overwhelming urge to cleanse your body from the inside out.

“I don’t feel…” You slurred in your speech, holding your stomach as you craned over until you slid onto your bottom, head exposed to the light as you faced the comforting snow.

“Wait up!” He called out to you several more times in midst of his trudge, his panting audibly close.

You began grumbling incoherent sounds in response as you clumsily whipped off your coat. Your mind was frosted like the windows on the cars lined down the street as you drew in the cold air with a greed to pacify the strange feeling in your stomach.

“(M/N), keep that on!”

“What are you…?! My mom—“ The constant shifting and turning of your body, all in an attempt to strip yourself of the restrictive wool of your vest and reindeer sweater, churned the bottom of your stomach until it was mush.

Absolute.

Mush.

It was funny how the human body worked because even in your drunken state, your natural instinct to find the nearest public trash can surfed through the flood of eggnog and booze, and you immediately emptied the toxins out of your body with several strong hurls.

“Geez, I told you not to run off…” A messenger bag and a familiar coat dropped near your foot, and the man did not spare a single second to come to your aid. “And also not to drink that much...” He rubbed your back in slow and soothing circles, then in vertical swipes as you coughed out the remaining poison. The strong bass pulsating into his palm as a special way of saying ‘thank you.’

“Clark, it was just a sip—“

“You had six cups….” Clark confessed and your immediate frown was telling in whether you were an innocent bystander, or the reason why the office was running low on drinks. Rummaging through his pockets, he then offered a handful of crumbled napkins that he took from the party.

“The last two didn’t count.” You slurred again, slowly regaining your strength as you stabilized yourself over the rim of the garbage can before wiping your mouth with the napkin. “I needed a drink with my food—“

“You barely touched your plate—“ He cut himself off as soon as he caught you staring at him, the eggnog stupefying you into a dazed state in which crickets and holiday festivities replaced coherent thoughts.

“We gotta get you home. It’s freezing.” He said, and you swayed in place as if you were a palm tree basking in the summer breeze. Or maybe like a giant marshmallow floating yet sinking in the warmth of hot cocoa.

Clark tried his best to fight the smile that was creeping upon him as he tidied your outerwear for the fourth time tonight, shielding you from the dusting of cold when he layered you with your coat.

His jaw clenched while he chewed back an adoration for your nearly frost-bitten visage, stalling the fixing of your reindeer headband to be closer to you a little while longer.

Though he couldn’t tell whether the deep flush of your skin was caused by the weather or the booze, it didn’t matter in the end because the winter of your skin magnetized a bravery in Clark that stilled you in place. Warmth sprouted over your cheeks like an approaching spring, and you closed your eyes peacefully.

Clark had put his bare hands over your cheeks, cupping them like a delicate bowl of snowflakes until they melted into his skin, until all he could feel was you and your equally delicate skin.

“Better?” Hesitantly, his thumbs followed the trail of your dark circles. It was something you’d always complain about yet ironically, your evident lack of sleep ranked high on his ‘favorite things about you’ list.

“Mhm. If only your hands were a little warmer.” You sighed again, the snowing melting into your hair and skin battling Clark’s warmth.

“Hm…” Clark held your cheeks closer, deepening his palms into you, and he closed his eyes, silently channeling his energy into his affectionate hold over you.

Maybe it was the booze playing tricks on you, or perhaps it was your body shutting down for the night, but you physically felt his hands heat up, warmer than his previous offer. Nonetheless, you gave him a nod of approval, and despite drowsiness approaching, your eyes opened bright to thank him with a smile.

“I’m guessing that’s why you don’t wear gloves?”

“Uh…” Clark laughed, an anxiousness you could point out, but you couldn’t exactly trust your judgement in your current state. “I guess you could say that’s why.”

“Well,” You said before a yawn slurred your speech even more, feeling the muscles in your body losing its strength by the second. “Remind me when you’re nearby so I can use you as a…”

“As a..?” There was a slight push to his palms, a strange sudden heaviness before Clark realized you were gradually leaning forward. “(M/N)—“

Gravity pulled your eyelids down, then your body forward, a striking contrast to the graceful dance of snow that dusted the ground. “As…”

And you completely slumped into Clark’s arms. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick to catch you before you could even feel the slightest breeze.

“Let’s get you home…” He smile mirrored the gentle frame of your body as you sunk into him.

And he held you close, accompanying your deep slumber with a warmth that surrounded and protected your body like a string of Christmas lights weaved through pine needles and tree branches.

A warmth that campaigned against the icier gale, the ego of a higher altitude, during Clark’s flight to take you back home.

And a warmth that was victorious when Clark tucked you into bed, a measly makeshift of comfort and peace you thought during your stir of sleep.

Because Clark’s warmth was a newfound establishment from this night onwards.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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blorbosinmyheadcentral · 5 months

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your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

#showtime #tadc showtime #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #showtime ship #cherpiet #Really appreciate how their dynamic can blur the line of friendship/romance so easily #Supervised Machine Learning is just. *gestures at all that*. minus the romance #Also sorry for taking so long to answer the ask I am not good at answering asks #I don't always know what to say #I wish I had what gooseworx has. She is a big insp #long post

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starry-nights-garden · 9 months

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Jaemin ✧ 10:06pm

✧ NCT Dream Jaemin x gn!reader ✧ words: ~1.3k ✧ genre: fluff ✧ warnings: none

Desc.: In which you try to get some urgent work done while your boyfriend Jaemin decides it's time to be very distracting.

It’s a perfectly quiet Friday evening. You’re sitting at your desk, typing away on your laptop, switching back and forth between several documents. Next to you is the cup of coffee you finished not too long ago - you’re aware that you shouldn’t consume any caffeine at this hour, but your deadline is drawing closer at lightspeed and you just can’t afford to lose even a single hour to inattentiveness at this point.

You gnash your teeth and shake your head at yourself. You don’t know why you always have to procrastinate until the last possible moment. You also don’t know why your boyfriend thinks now is the best possible time to start an attempt at distracting you. At first he simply walks into the room and puts his hands onto your shoulders, peeking at the laptop screen from behind. You expect him to ask if your work is coming along well, or maybe if you ate dinner - which you actually forgot to have - or if you’re not getting tired. But nothing. He remains silent, and when Na Jaemin remains silent in such a situation, you know he’s probably planning something. Feeling suspicious, you roll your shoulders back, hoping he would let go of you.

“What?” you mutter, too focused on not losing your train of thought to form a proper sentence. But still, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his fingertips dance down your upper arms and eventually he puts them on your waist. A premonition makes a chill run down your spine, and at the same time you can feel yourself getting angry. Your hunch of what he’s about to do is proven right when you feel his breath against your neck, just before you can feel his lips touching that same spot too. You involuntarily let out a sigh, and for a second your body disobeys your mind and your eyelids flutter shut. However, no matter how much you want to let him coerce you into taking a break, a wave of internal stress reminds you that you have no time to lose. You lean forward, escaping at least his kisses while his hands remain resting on your sides, and you go back to staring at the screen in concentration.

However, he also wouldn’t be Na Jaemin if you could shake him off that easily.

“Baby, let’s forget about your deadline for a while…” Despite him keeping his voice low, you don’t miss the underlying worry. You sigh again, this time pushing the air out of your lungs with more force, to which he spins you around in your chair, making you face him.

“I can’t-” You make an attempt at protesting, but the feeling of him cupping your face with one hand combined with the look in his eyes silences you. It’s not even an unexpected reaction, during the time you’ve been dating so far you learned how effortlessly he can sweep you off your feet and erase all coherent thoughts in your head, at least for a while. You collect yourself while taking a deep breath and try to suppress all feelings as he tilts his head to the side, questioning. “I can’t now,” you simply answer, making sure to sound as stern as possible. You feel him caressing your cheek with his thumb once, twice, and again you’re fighting your body urging you to just give in and take a rest.

Jaemin brushes off your words as his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, and when he leans in you don’t have it in you to stop him from kissing you. There is something demanding in the way he slowly moves his lips against yours, and his hand now placed at the back of your neck makes sure you don’t pull back before he breaks the kiss. But even then, he doesn’t move his face away from yours more than an inch or two, and you can feel his warm breath tickling your skin as he searches for some kind of answer to his actions in your pupils. Meanwhile, you can practically hear the angel and devil sitting on your shoulders as they argue and yell at each other over whether you should direct your full attention to your boyfriend or to the paper that’s waiting to be continued. In the end it’s Jaemin himself who ends the dispute in your mind, as he presses his lips against yours once again.

Your hands eventually find his shoulders, and when you rake your fingers through his short hair, he deepens the kiss, probably to show his approval. You part for air eventually, and as soon as you have caught your breath you whisper his name.

“You know what’d be real sexy of you right now?” you mumble, and this time you don’t let yourself be shaken when his gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth once again.

“Hm?” he hums, dragging the sound a bit and grinning in approval.

“If you leave me the fuck alone and let me finish this shit.” You pull back and point your chin at the screen of your laptop. Your words came out more sharply than you wanted them to, but he doesn’t seem fazed by the sound of them. He must be thinking again as his eyes rest on your figure, and eventually he gives up with a shrug. Wordlessly, he leaves, but only to come back not even a minute later. He got his own chair from his room, putting it right next to yours and sitting down. With his elbow rested on your desk, he scans your face, making you wonder what he’s up to now.

“What??” is all you say, hands already put on the keyboard, ready to resume working, and being very done with his antics.

“Do you want something to eat?” His question takes you by surprise. He follows it up with “I know you skipped dinner.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I want dinner or not. I don’t have the time,” you argue.

“I’ll make you something. Just tell me if you have any preferences.” Now it’s you who’s staring, eyebrows raised up high.

“You’re… actually gonna be helpful after failing in trying to seduce me into neglecting my work?”

“I didn’t try to seduce you into neglecting it,” he answers calmly. “I tried to seduce you into taking a break.”

“Same thing…”

“So? What do you wanna eat?” he asks again, all while never taking his eyes off your face. “I might be forced to order something instead of making it myself if it’s something too extravagant, though. I can’t stand in the kitchen for two hours while letting you starve.”

“I’m not starving…” you answer silently, though you have so much more to say. You consider pouring the gratefulness you’re suddenly feeling into another kiss, but since he might take that as another opportunity to try forcing you into a break, you decide against it after all.

“Just… some fried rice, or something simple,” you eventually say.

“Hmmm,” Jaemin hesitates, and then eventually he sits up straight, signaling that he’s about to get up. “I’ll make it so it will give you enough energy to power through this.”

“You’re putting coffee into it?” you joke and you lure a short chuckle from his lips as he stands up. He gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze and then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger. You let him turn your head towards him, and after giving you a peck on the lips, you feel the deprivation course through your body more than anything.

“Don’t be like that…” you mutter, and this time it’s you who’s hiding a whine in your voice. Jaemin gives you a big grin and pats your head.

“You’ll get proper kisses when you’re done here,” he says, before disappearing into the kitchen to prepare you a late dinner.

#nct dream fluff #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin drabbles #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #fluff

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malvolios-yellow-stockings · 7 months

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I'm getting DA:O brainworms again, but there's something so delicious about unhardened Warden Alistair growing into an unrequited (but actually kind of requited) love for (Mage) Warden who romances Morrigan and leaves him behind. Like, there's this one person who's been trying to convince you of good in this world, telling you not to grow cold, this person who was your right hand man, or, moreso you were his. This boy basically, you stumbled upon, who experienced the real world for the first time with you by his side. A man you walked Ferelden up and down with. Someone you've entrusted your life to and spilt blood for and who has done the same for you. A friend who has indulged your fancies, who reluctantly did things for you, who helped you bury a king who hadn't treated him kindly. And you've never really had feelings for anyone before him, at least like this, and you don't know what they are. And then you see him mingle with the Witch of the Wilds. See how he looks at her, trying to be cocky to impress her. See her twist this man into making decisions you're sure he'd never agree to were she not there to whisper it to him. And when you turn to the rest of your companions, they mock you and warp your concern. You are ready to give your life for this man, if it means slaying the Archdemon and ending the Blight but he speaks of some Dark Ritual. And it makes your soul grow weary and scared. And then Morrigan disappears and you finally think to yourself - this was for the best. But your friend is inconsolable. He talks of her with a fog over his eyes and a wistfulness that tugs at your chest. You try to keep him close to you but can feel him slipping away as you lose most of your contact. Maybe it's for the best. You hear of his exploits while on your missions with the Wardens. You try to keep away from him because seeing him once again makes you remember how it once was. It makes you flinch to remember his attempt at making you a king to rule beside Anora. The cold calculation of it all, his action unrecognisable to you. How much even the thought of it hurt. Maybe he hadn't been your friend? Maybe he hadn't understood you after all. But you joke about it, try to make it funny in your head. He's surely like a brother to you. Who couldn't forgive their brethren? And then you hear of his disappearance. The worst thoughts present themselves to your Taint-bitten imagination. And then you realize what he was doing. Some or other mention it, a mirror of some kind, something elven, you think, (maybe he was finding his heritage?) And then you hear it whispered. Morrigan, Flemeth's daughter. Yes, that Flemeth, they say. And you've never felt more betrayed in your life. You never got to say goodbye to him. To throw a jab one last time. And you grow bitter, because isn't it grand to finally understand that everyone leaves you in the end. You were born a royal bastard but you were an expendable means to an end and you will always be. And you abort this love and twist yourself into a leader because you know how much Thedas needs you, people like you, even though the place itself and the people around you might not. You still think of him from time to time. What became of Morrigan and him, but you forget the sound of his voice and the way he brightened your days and made you believe in something better. What remains is a dull sense of betrayal and bitterness with the man who turned on his principles and left you behind. And, Maker, it makes you twist with guilt. Get over it, you think, he has chosen a dark path.

(Mind y'all -

- I refuse to believe that the whole of Ferelden doesn't know why the HoF disappeared (when he goes with Morrigan). I just refuse to buy into it.

- I'm writing this at 2 fucking am and so working at 5% brain battery and 2% coherence and I'm not caught up on DA lore - I'm currently playing Inquisition, about 50 hours in, and have just met with Alistair again, which is what pushed me to write this drabble anyways.

- His painful and palpably disappointed dialogue about the Warden walking a dark path and the way the party reacts to his concern over the Warden being with Morrigan in Origins always kind of make me feel a pinch of what if? Alistair repressed bisexual

- Surana is my fave Warden as is apparent

- I am fully aware I am UPPING THE ANGST and I say - I want more!)

#dragon age #dao #alistair theirin #alistair dragon age #warden #warden surana #warden amell #alistair x warden #“I AM SO SORRY FOR SUBJECTING YOU PEOPLE TO THIS”#dragon age origins

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yourfavouritefighter · 2 months

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OKAY SO IM KINDA NOT IN W GREAT MOOD RN SO IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE JEKYLL AND HYDE MUSICAL since none of my irl pals are gonna listen you guys have to

SO POINT ONE

-the whole plot hinges around the core idea that Henry himself is a man with good intentions who goes too far, and that he was warned to stop but he doesn’t and his own hubris and desire to have scientific recognition pushes him to extremes, and in turn-his and many other’s deaths.

—> that’s bullshit however, considering in the 1997 musical sound track (the most recent one i can get my hands on) there are more songs convincing Henry that he should carry on than their are dissuading him (considering they cut board of governors). allow me to list examples and why it’s stupid that he’s a man who was dissuaded but chose to walk a danger game path anyways.

—> firstly, his best friend Gabriel John Utterson, deeply trusted and level headed with a good moral compass “Henry you have come too far, remember what you have a stake” and “you’ve got to see it through” both stated in a song called “pursue the truth”. this song is heavily pivotal as it inspires Henry to continue when he wouldn’t have otherwise due to pressure from the board of governors of st jude’s hospital. In this song he was not told that going forward would be dangerous, John likely knew exactly what Henry was doing but wholeheartedly encouraged him, Henry trusted his judgement. He was not dissuaded.

—>Emma and Lisa, for the sake of coherency I’ll be referring to her as Emma as i’ll be using the newer soundtrack for this discussion. His wife to be, who he’s supposedly madly in live with; spends all of “i must go on” encouraging his pursuit of science, encouraging him to carry on his work. In lines like “when this all began, we knew there’d be a price to pay”, “too late to turn away”, reinforcing the idea in Henry’s mind that this is the best way forward- who cares about stuffy governors when those dear and near to him have expressed clear support of his work.

—>You could hypothetically argue that neither John nor Emma truly knew the extent to which Henry was going with his experiments, not truly understanding what he wanted to or was trying to achieve. However, if that was the intention the writers should’ve made that more overt considering later in the play they heavily emphasise the theme and idea that Henry has, quote “gone too far”, a phrase repeatedly used. Instead they lead the audience also view this as an honourable goal, due to the growing support of Henry and the audiences like of the characters at this point in the play.

Through the removal of Lanyon, the central conflict and core flaw of Henry Jekyll as a character has been removed, if he has no close friend to strongly and brutally disagree with him, it was no long *his* flaw that he carried on, it was no longer his fault, as the blame could be feasibly shared between him and those who encouraged him, shifting the play and narrative from a criticism of society in that extremism whether it be for or against change leads to a poor outcome, to being a story about how a well intentioned yet flawed scientist was misguided by his passion and loved ones, and payed the price.

-(next point because i’ve argued long enough about that.) was Henry Jekyll really as well intentioned as the play attempts to convey?

—>(Short answer, no. Long answer, potentially). Henry’s morality is heavily debatable, with it being dependant on the rendition of the play you watched, for the sake of the cohesion of the argument i’m going to be basing this entirely off of what i’ve seen of the 1997 and the 1995 plays.

—> firstly let’s discuss what the writers intended, or at least my perspective on what they were aiming to convey. within the opening scenes, we are greeted with Henry and his unnamed(?) father who is stuck in a mental asylum for reasons we as an audience are not privy to, Henry sings “lost in the darkness” a song establishing his motivations and goals as a character. I believe that the intention here was to give the viewer the impression that Henry as a character and person is moral and good, becoming misguided in his efforts to achieve his goals and save his father, eventually sacrificing himself for the sake of the safety of society, once the monster of his own well intentioned creation consumes him. So as a character it could be argued that he is moral. However i what the writers intended and what they conveyed are hugely different.

—> Due to the placement of Henry’s motivation being at the beginning of the play, the intention was likely to hook the audience into liking him as a character, forcing them to see how well intentioned he is before exploring his flaws and then eventually having him sacrifice himself to show his respectable morality as a character. However, by closely following this with “board of governors” (and the 1997 equivalent assumedly) we are hit with the whiplash of what was presented as a good person, and the man who argues with the board. Due to how bitter and cruelly he acts in a futile attempt to gain funding(?) and support for his project, the audience may rightfully assume that his kindness was a facade (especially since facades and the duality of man are central themes) and that Henry’s true colours are shown within this situation. If the writers truly intended to establish his perfect morality, they should have had Henry visit his father, and “lost in the darkness” take place after Henry is refused by the governors, so that his rage and refusal to take no for an answer is a shown to be a result of his stress and care for his father- not his questionable morality. This is because the audience will retain things that happen later in the play best, using them to form their impressions, so by shifting the placement of this scene it shifts the presentation of the character as a whole. But that is not what we are here to discuss.

—> Henry and Lucy. Another instance of Henry’s good morality working against him, as despite entering with the intention to find a test subject- he leaves having given Lucy his business card(?) and offering her support due to her situation. This eventually leads to her death, but it is another instance of his good morality, there were no strings attached to this aid, as Henry was a soon to be married man, and there is no implications that he finds her attractive (if you are to follow the play’s implications that Jekyll and Hyde are truly separate beings). So clearly you could argue that his morality is good, right?

—> Hyde. From a scientific standpoint, matter cannot be created or destroyed, going from that perspective, Hyde’s intentions cannot have just appeared-they had to be fuelled by Jekyll’s innermost desires and thoughts, especially since Hyde goes after those who have wronged Henry during “murder murder”. So the murderous impulses, the sketchy behaviour and outright illegal behaviour towards Lucy came from Jekyll. However this doesn’t make Henry an immoral character.

—> Humour me for a moment while i discuss the concept of the id. So freud (yes that freud) had a theory that stated that humans were comprised of three parts that all worked together, the id the ego and the super ego. The id was your animalistic urges and desires, your superego is societal expectations for the most part, acting as your selflessness. With the ego balancing the two; preventing you from donating all of your money to charity and putting you on the streets, and preventing you from going on a murder spree, killing the upper class. Within the original novel, Hyde is implied to be without the ego or superego, merely the embodiment of Jekyll’s id. So now comes the debate, is a person immoral for having immoral desires, if unacted upon?

—>Therein lies the conflict, as whether or not immoral desires mean an immoral person or character. Personally i believe no, the average person will have immoral thoughts from time to time, the true evil comes from how such desires are dealt with. So while Hyde is evil, despite being based upon Jekyll, you cannot state that that makes Henry evil in turn. Paired with the potential that Hyde is a twisted version of Jekyll’s own desires (for example Henry wants revenge against the governors-Hyde interprets that as murder, whilst Jekyll implies showing them that he was right).

anyways this has got way too long so rip, mb if this is incoherent i woke up and was like ‘jekyll and hyde musicals really sucked at doing plot and character development…welp time to rant’

please correct me in the comments if i’m misremembering shit i’m stupid so it’s a possibility

#the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde musical #henry jekyll #dr jekyll #jekyll and hyde #dr jekyll and mr hyde

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ihaveatheoryonthat · 4 months

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This is a scrapped piece from a story I'm still trying to make work, which means the full context is a little lacking. That said, I liked it too much to ditch entirely, so onto the writing blog it goes. Again, there are placeholders all over-- even more than usual. Please don't go into this expecting anything polished. xD

---

“Hello, this is [name] calling on behalf of the Goldenrod City General Hospital.”

Immediate alarm bells, though Emmet couldn’t quite articulate why; trepidation blocked his throat, and he remained silent, letting [them] continue.

“I’ve been asked to act as a translator, as no one on staff is fully fluent in Unovan. You see, for the past four days, the facility has been attempting to identify a [John Doe], and we believe we’ve found a match with Mr. Ingo Bewaker, but due to… circumstances, have been unable to confirm. As his emergency contact, we were hoping you might be able to help us with visual confirmation.” […]

Mind going a mile a minute, it took a bit for Emmet to respond. His brother had no business being in Johto, but at this point, anything was possible. What truly disturbed him was the implication that the hospital had taken this long to find an [identity], meaning that… this person was unable to [identify] themselves.

It sounded like they wanted him to [identify] a body.

[he’d been fighting against that for some time/whatever else]

The last thing he wanted to do was agree, but how could he refuse? Either he could be sure that this was some other unfortunate individual, and that he shouldn’t give up yet, or he’d finally find an answer. He bit down on his tongue and forced himself to respond.

“Yes. Of course. Would email be preferable?” For a moment, it was just business-- the rote exchange of information-- but as the call seemed like it was winding down, he couldn’t help but ask, “...was it bad?”

Because, as much as he wanted to know what had happened, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if this was his twin and he’d died in pain. Knowing ahead of time would make it that much harder, but at least he would have something to prepare himself against. He would do it-- if it meant finally bringing his brother home, he would do it-- but [???].

[name] went on, oblivious to his internal conflict. “As I mentioned before, I’m only acting as a translator, and so I’m uninvolved in the patient’s care. From speaking to him, though, I think it’s fair to say the language barrier has been the biggest problem.”

The racing thoughts came to a screeching halt.

“You spoke to him?” He echoed [hoarsely]. Ironically, that in and of itself had an alternate translation: he’s alive?

“Yes, though I’m not sure how much got through. Between the medication and his limitations, he’s not the easiest to communicate with.” […]

That was… rude.

Even without having seen the physical proof, Emmet found himself inching closer to believing this might be it-- because of course someone would look at his brother’s face and call him hard to understand. If he was too out of it to respond coherently, that would even explain why they hadn’t been able to ask I-- this person directly, thus necessitating outside assistance.

The [deep] low suddenly swung upright, into a hopeful peak. It left Emmet a little dizzy.

“I see. Thank you for the clarification. I will refer to the email and respond as soon as possible.” He said, and the call ended shortly thereafter. Trying not to fidget, he waited for his Xtransceiver to ping, and struggled to keep his hand steady when the message came through. Hovering over the link to the attached photo, he took a deep breath and pressed down.

That was Ingo.

He had a splinted leg, there was a bandage stretching along one side of his face, and it kind of looked like he’d suffered his own personal Earthquake, but there was no doubt in Emmet’s mind. That was his brother, and while the photo could only capture so much, it was plain to see that he was alive, if not entirely well.

Using a nail to trace the edge of the facial cut, he let himself wonder how. There was nothing in the picture that suggested anything specific, or shed any more light on where he’d been all this time… beyond the Johto region, apparently…? No, that didn’t make sense. If he’d spent the past year in Johto, he would have picked something of the language up-- enough to make it by-- but he’d needed a Unovan translator.

...which was completely ignoring the question of why he wouldn’t just try to contact home, but it was obvious that Emmet was missing a great deal of context, so he would reserve judgment for the time being.

Lost in his reverie, he accidentally let the screen go dark, and then immediately tapped it to bring the picture back. He gave it another once-over before reluctantly closing it to formulate a reply-- that yes, that was his brother, and he would be departing for Goldenrod as soon as he was able.

#submas #ihaveatheoryonthat pkmn #writing scraps

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mins-fins · 9 months

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❛ pink hearts ❜ — seok matthew

| synopsis . . . where seok matthew desperately tries to work up the courage to ask the cute boy that works at the local bubble tea shop out on a date.

| tags . . . seok matthew x m!reader , college au , fluffy fluff , matthew is really in love , reader is a boba barista , new layout cause why not lol , hanbin is so tired , don't worry they get that date though!

| warnings . . . none!

"matthew if your gonna stare you may as well just go in".

"hanbin shut up!"

if matthew is anything, he is someone who falls in love easily. he likes to admire people, even if he doesn't necessarily have a deep conversation with the person to end up falling hard for them.

that is exactly what is going on in this situation.

when i said that matthew likes to admire, i really meant it, because for the past fifteen minutes he's simply been admiring the boy who works the counter at the bubble tea shop instead of actually going in and ordering.

matthew wouldn't say they've talked, (if by talked you mean they said hi and hello then yeah they've talked), because he can't work up the courage to make any more conversation with him.

"matthew, if you want to talk to him so bad then do it" hanbin states firmly, and matthew turns to give his friend a glare.

"your supposed to help me!"

"your standing around like a creep how do i help you?" hanbin scoffs, matthew struggles to form a coherent sentence as he continues to glare at the sung, who laughs at his expression.

"i don't know mr 'i'm a love expert'" matthew begins, mimicking hanbin's voice. "your the one who said you wanted to help me!"

"how are you gonna ask him out if you can't even actually talk to him first?"

"i don't know! that's why i asked you to help me!"

"that's stupid matthew!"

matthew really can't control this random crush he developed out of the blue. the boy who works at the counter is just so pretty, soft spoken, and easygoing, literally anybody would fall in love.

his heart is way too weak for someone with that smile, he always wants to melt into a puddle whenever he hears the familiar; hi what can i get you today?

his voice is so pretty— so nice.

he even started remembering matthew's order, which makes him want to melt even more since he's actually so pretty.

"i think i'm starting to recognize you" matthew remembers him saying on a random monday. "i still don't know your name though, mind telling me?"

matthew felt his face go red at that very moment, he hated how those words were so casual yet affected him so much. "i— um.. uh, yeah! uh, matthew, my name's matthew".

his eyebrows raised. "are you a foreigner?" he inquired, tilting his head like he was trying to decipher matthew's name.

"i'm from canada" he said shyly, which is pretty abnormal for him. "but my parents are korean.."

"ah" the boy said, that pretty smile coming to his face. "that makes sense" he grabbed matthew's drink and handed it over to him.

"y/n".

"y/n" matthew repeated, he liked his name, it sounded right for some reason. "nice name" he said clearly, he didn't know how he said that clearly, he just did.

"come again soon".

when classes ended that day, matthew went to his room and screamed into his pillow for a whole fifteen minutes straight. he actually felt like he had a chance for once, but he also felt like the most delusional person to ever exist.

"hanbin! i'm literally dying! he kept smiling at me like— why is he so pretty!?"

matthew is not in his best element at the moment.

hanbin is clearly enjoying watching him suffer.

"are you finally gonna work up the courage to ask him out now?"

"wait— now? what do you mean now? i can't ask him out now! he'd think i'm weird, he'd think—"

"oh my god matthew!" hanbin yells over his friend. "come on! this is what you've been bothering me about for the past week! just do it!"

"i'm not as confident as you, hanbin!" matthew argues. "i just— i don't wanna have the wrong impression.." he mumbles, cuddling his pillow close to his chest.

hanbin stares at his best friend, sighing, patting his back. "ah, matthew, you and pretty boys".

it's obvious that matthew had absolutely no idea how to talk to boys he liked romantically, and y/n was one of those boys. he couldn't muster up any courage to ask him out, because he thought he'd embarrass himself by saying something wrong.

y/n though, didn't seem to mind his stuttering, because he found it cute.

one day, though, he just seemed to be having a particularly good day.

"you know, you make my day matthew" y/n says, leaning on his hand as he stares at him. matthew really can't tell if he's flirting or just being nice.

"i'm glad to hear that" matthew nods, feeling himself get nervous as he clears his throat. "um, uh.. y/n?"

"that is my name, yes" the barista replies, he gives that amazing smile he always looks at matthew with, and he feels as if he's about to melt.

"i— um, uh.."

matthew feels stupid, he can't get his words out because he keeps looking at y/n whose so focused on him and what he's saying that it makes it hard to speak straight.

y/n blinks, confused. "you okay?"

"will you go out with me!"

y/n stands there, frozen. he tilts his head for a moment, staring at the red faced, embarrassed matthew who was now covering his face with his hands, afraid of being rejected.

"agh, i'm so sorry, i'm awkward, and i get if you don't want to go out—"

"of course i will".

matthew squeaks, not believing the words that just came out of the barista's mouth. he can't bring himself to stare at y/n, thinking that he'd probably light on fire from making even the slightest eye contact with him.

"ahh, you need to stop this" matthew grumbles under his breath, finally removing his hands from his face and feeling his face go even more red when y/n laughed at his expression.

"stop what, matt?"

"your so pretty, your voice is so nice, and your effortlessly good at everything i hate it" he pouts, and y/n looks away to laugh once again, grabbing matthew's drink.

"do you plan on getting me boba for our first date?"

"i— uh, well.. haha!" matthew still wasn't doing the best. "your gonna have to wait! haha!"

"are you gonna take your drink or..?"

"yeah! right!"

matthew awkwardly giggles, taking his drink and giving a wide smile, nodding. "later! i'll see you later!"

y/n chuckles, waving at him. "i'll wait for you".

matthew giggles the whole way as he walks to his class, though he gets embarrassed by the way he talked.

at least he got a date! nothing else matters!

#seok matthew x reader #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 matthew #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #seok matthew zb1 #seok matthew imagines #zb1 drabbles #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 year

Text

Aftermath (Dagger Squad Drabble)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Dagger Squad, gn!reader

Summary: You wake up on the floor, woozy and aching. After pulling yourself together, you go looking for the rest of the Dagger Squad.

Word Count: 648

TW: I reserve the right to not give warnings that may spoil the story (but it isn't bad I promise and there is a happy ending)

Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for requesting “Against my better judgment, I’m alive" with Hangman. Though he does say the line, I made the fic a more general Dagger Squad story.

Every inch of you aches. Your head is throbbing painfully with every beat of your heart, your mind feels muddled and fuzzy, and you can taste the remains of bile in your mouth from the night before. You press your cheek into the cold tile floor beneath you in the hope it will numb some of the pain, but it does little to help. When you try to open your eyes even a fraction of an inch, the dim light in the room has you instantly retreating to the darkness behind your eyelids.

Taking a few deep breaths, you work up the courage to try again, and this time you manage to keep your eyes open, though squinted. The next step is getting to your feet which is another Herculean task, but after a few woozy attempts, you somehow get yourself vertical.

You take a few unsteady steps before you notice someone else laying on the floor on the other side of the room. Stumbling over, you see Hangman laying on his back on the floor, one arm laying under him at an odd angle.

Gently shaking his shoulder, you mutter, “Hangman. Hey, Hangman. Come on, get up. You better not have died on me.”

“Against my better judgment, I’m alive.” The response is muffled and slurred, but at least he’s coherent enough to be making wisecracks.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” He lifts his head slightly and squints up at you. “But why are there three of you?”

Shaking your head, you sigh, “Come on, big boy. Let’s get you on your feet.”

You help him sit up but when he tries to move the arm that had been pinned beneath him, he hisses in pain and holds it tight against his chest. He looks up at you with pleading eyes, but you just shrug.

“Don’t look at me like that. We’re only in this mess because of you. Now, I need to see how bad it is out there so either stay here or follow me.”

Reluctantly, Hangman allows you to help him to his feet, his arm still clutched against his chest. You let him lean on you slightly while he tries to regain his balance, but as uneasy as you currently are on your own two feet, it is a bit of a disaster. However, the two of you finally make it to the door and you open it.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as you take in the destruction on the other side.

The bodies of your friends, your squad, lay scattered around the room. Some are splayed deadly still on the carpet or across the couch but others are in various stages of struggling to sit up or attempting to rise to their feet. Broken glass litters the floor and there is a set of bloody footprints where someone had stepped in it barefoot. The table has been flipped over and the chairs are laying on their sides on opposite sides of the room. The place is a complete disaster.

Rooster catches your eye from where he is seated leaning heavily against the wall, but as he opens his mouth to say something, suddenly, there is the sound of a key rattling in a lock and all eyes fly to the door on the other side of the room. As it swings open, Bob strolls in humming softly to himself and carrying a box of donuts. However, he stumbles to a halt as he takes in the scene before him.

For a few seconds, his mouth hangs open in utter disbelief. When he manages to pull himself together, he chokes out, “Ar-are you guys okay? What the hell happened after I left last night?”

Groaning, you plop down next to the still-unconscious Fanboy on the couch. “That’s it. We are never letting Hangman make the drinks for game night ever again.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @marvelousmermaid, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @imjess-themess, @footprintsinthesxnd

#drabble #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #dagger squad #dagger squad x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin #bob #robert bob floyd #gn!reader

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sunboki · 2 years

Text

ATTRACTIVE THINGS THE MAKNAE LINE DOES

including; han jisung, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

warnings; slightly suggestive? fluffy^^

HAN reaches forward no matter what you’re doing or have been doing. if you have something on your face, he will make it his mission to help you. it could be something in the way his face contorts into a focused expression, or how impossibly close he is. however this sly quokka will take his time—not only to take in your features but to finish his mission off with a kiss. like he’s placing the cherry on top. he smiles at you afterwards, eyes practically shining adorably despite the mischievous actions he’s performed seconds earlier. “here to help.” he finger-guns, all too pleased with himself.

FELIX whispers in his sleep. now it doesn’t sound like much here, maybe even more cute than attractive. but think about it. this is felix we’re talking about. the cute bbokari with freckles that rival the beauty of the sunset yet a voice that’s deep tone sends a shiver down anyone listening’s spine. doing just that to you. when his arms are cozily wrapped around your waist, head buried in either your hair or neck—he mumbles. hardly coherent. but there. it could be random words, full phrases, or perhaps adorable muttering that melts your heart. but the way he says it. the rough texture in his heavenly voice. gets to you every. time.

SEUNGMIN, or otherwise puppym does not have you feeling a certain way. especially not how he stretches. head rolling back with a small sigh of relief floating from his lips. okay okay fine. maybe a little bit. it’s simply so especially hard to focus when he’s over there, unintentionally looking too good for his own good. the worst part? when he catches your nearly drooling gaze, he smiles at you—full on smiles. legitimately pouring water on the matchstick. “y/n, are you not feeling good? your face is red.” he ushers worriedly, hand placed on your forehead with pursed lips. “i need to use the restroom.” you hurriedly head to the door, nonetheless positively exploding as you stand outside.

JEONGIN has this uncharacteristic habit. you’ve assumed it could’ve been due to han’s influence—but the guess is more or less your way of calming your heart rate from speeding any further, otherwise to deter thinking anything more of your baby bread of a boyfriend without drowning in guilt. the habit in question is biting his lip and running a hand through his hair at the same time. you see for minho, those naughty antics could be normalized due to his demeanor. which is why for innie to do it messes you completely up. “innie stop doing thatt~” you internally beg, the words coming out as a whine. “doing what?” he raises a brow, lips quirking into a mini smile. “never mind.” yeah right.

all rights for this work are owned by @sunboki

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delicrieux · 1 year

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Hello, how are you? I hope you are doing well! I've had this idea in my mind for a while: could you please write a Harry Potter imagine where Draco asks Professor Lupin's daugther on a date to Hogsmeade? She's in Gryffindor. Thank you!

NIGHT, THE LIGHT | endless drabble series (winter edition)

summary: differences can actually be appealing pairing: draco malfoy x f!lupin!reader a/n: used 24. countless candles from this list <3

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open for the winter prompts list 1 & 2 !

Hogwarts drowns in candle light. White wax drips onto the walls and the floors and melts in puddles, leaving an earthy, herbal scent in its wake. They appear when the days start growing shorter and nights longer, and disappear when spring eventually comes. During December, it’s all a warm, cosy glow. You’ve never felt more at home here than during winter.

The curfew is upon you, and if a wandering professor should catch you sneaking back to the Gryffindor common room, you’d eagerly inform them that you had spent your hours studying, terribly afraid to disappoint your father. And if your father still worked here and caught you, you would tell him the truth: I was trying to hex the brooms so Filtch’d have something to do in the morning.

Well, a part of the truth, for you think that as kind as your father is, he would not take kindly to the news. You’d rather he not know at all, not now, lest he convinces you to change your mind via a strongly worded letter.

You had been thinking of ways to ruin Filtch’s morning for a while now - you could not, in good conciseness, leave that burden for the Weasley twins to carry. Plan made and swiftly executed, you had been on the prowl for more shenanigans to cause. Surely inspiration would strike when the moon’s out, it always does.

In the candle-lit corridors you had ran into Draco, seeming a bit pale in the blousy light. Neither friend nor foe, he stuck to tormenting your friends on odd occasion when he became bored. Those jabs and jeers had died down drastically as the years went by. During year six, he preferred to ignore the lot of you, thoughtful about his musings as he was.

He had grown pretty, and somewhat secluded, and sometimes he was even tolerable, perhaps even more than that. So you met in the dark next to the sleeping portraits, and your heart had skipped a beat which you reasoned could only be from fright.

He gave you a once-over, and his expression revealed nothing, “Quite late.”

“Haven’t noticed.” You said.

“Then you’re blind as a bat.”

“Charmed, truly,” You muttered, “where were you, anyway?”

“What do you care?” He quipped. You shrugged.

“That you’re right, I don’t. Will be on my way, now-”

And as you moved to pass him, he suddenly became alert, “Wait.”

By all means, you did not have to. But you did, and when you looked at him, he seemed torn and much older, no longer the petty boy Harry insist him on being.

“...Well?” You probed once the silence stretched.

“The trip to Hogsmeade is coming up.” He said it perfectly natural, even bored, “Would you like to go with me?”

You thought you misheard him. Brows drawn and eyes squinted, you inquired a simple, “What?”

“Are you deaf also?”

“Quite rude to insult me after just asking me out.” You bit back, “Why would I want to go with you, anyway?”

He shrugged, “It’s not a no.”

Your mind rushed a mile a minute, tripping over ideas and thoughts that were barely coherent: one was of you laughing and drinking butter beer in the damp and warm haven of the Three Broomsticks and the next was Harry lecturing you about unwanted company.

But you were always one for mischief, and the excitement in your chest was palpable enough for you to fear he’d hear the pulses of your heart, and so you bit down a smile and shrugged, “I’ll think about it. I guess.”

“Don’t think too long.”

“What? Am I on the clock? Will you ask someone else if I don’t give you an answer.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound very convincing.

“Fine. We’ll go. But if we’ll have to stop at Junko’s.”

“Fine.”

Silence, again.

“Well, goodnight, Draco.”

“See you in the morning.”

All the way to your common room you could only think one thing: what the bloody hell just happened?

hope you like it! xx

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #hp #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x reader #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #reader insert #hogwarts #request #hp x reader #winter features

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tsugarubecker · 2 years

Text

Happy 1000 Followers to meeee! 🥰🎉🎉

To celebrate, I’ve just spent entirely too many hours writing a fanfic of The Van Scene from Mike’s POV. It is essentially a lot of prose about Mike’s head being full of gay 10 Hours of Ocean Sounds to Sleep To noises lmfao 🌈🌊 Enjoy! ☺️🎇

Re: Lighting up a Room

He pauses to catch a breath right after comparing himself to Lois Lane. He doesn’t have time to wonder if all the purple palm tree delight he’s been around for hours in a cramped van is making him a little loopy.

He looks up. Will’s giving him a searching, unreadable look. Like Mike isn’t making any sense.

And he’s not. He knows he’s not. Superman? The Daily Planet? Shit. At what point did he start rambling - and why can’t he get himself to stop?

“Sorry.” I don’t know why this is all I can think about right now.

“No…”

“It’s so stupid, given everything that’s going on. It’s just… I don’t know.” He pauses to breathe again, to try to get his own thoughts to slow down long enough to make an iota of sense. He’s nervous - somewhere, buried deep, he knows he’s dancing around something he needs to say about El - something he doesn’t want to say. “…I just—“

“You’re scared of losing her.” Will supplies.

And that’s not quite it. But a recent memory blares like a voice on a megaphone, echoing across Mike’s mind: his own words.

I feel like I… like I lost you, or something. Does that make sense?

Mike looks up. He meets Will’s eyes, and it’s like he’s been hit in the stomach. No air in his lungs. No oxygen in his brain.

As he gazes, he wonders - not for the first time - if maybe he’s dancing around… more than one something that he doesn’t want to say.

But maybe he won’t have to?

He glances down, swallows, meets Will’s eyes again. Commands himself to nod in assent, resulting in the tiniest inclination of the head that could pass for a nod. Keeps searching Will’s eyes.

His thoughts are moving at about a mile a minute, and none of them seem to be coherent English sentences. Based, probably, on the fact that he has no idea what fucking wavelength he’s currently on, he’s finding it sadly impossible to determine if Will is on the same one. Fuck. Fuck.

“Wavelength” makes him think deliriously for a split second of the iconic Pink Floyd album cover. Which feels so on the nose he wants to cry and laugh at the same time. Maybe the purple palm tree delight contact high really is affecting him. He’s about 0.5 seconds from needing to stifle a laugh/sob when—

“Can I… show you something?”

Will doesn’t wait for a reply, or he takes Mike’s unbroken gaze as a yes - either way, Mike’s grateful, since apparently his brain is currently full of secondhand PPD, Pink Floyd album covers, static, and rocks. (He suspects if he rolled his head around right now he’d hear clunking noises. He doesn’t roll his head around.)

He keeps his brow furrowed slightly as he watches Will digging around for something. What is he looking for? He swears his pulse has sped up to match the bpm of that Bronski Beat song that he loves but can never remember the name of, but Will doesn’t need to know his heart’s going haywire.

Will pulls an earthy brown paper scroll from his bag.

Uhh, what’s that?

Keeping his face carefully frozen in a slight frown, Mike reaches for the scroll that Will offers.

It’s… it’s nothing, just this painting I’ve been working on.

His hands aren’t shaking as he starts to unroll, but somehow it feels like he’s pulling his muscles out of quicksand. They don’t seem to want to move.

Cool.

He unfurls a bit more.

He… he won’t show me what he’s painting. I think it is for a girl!

The painting is before him. And it is - it’s a full-blown painting. Oil on canvas. A fully realized mythical landscape, so similar in content to all of Will’s work before - the dragon, the brave warriors attacking with sword and shield - but this is far, far beyond the skill Mike has become familiar with from Will. This painting practically has a heartbeat. This painting’s heart beats nearly as loudly and strongly as Mike’s does, looking at it.

He realizes he’s smiling. He’s beaming. He thinks actual sunbeams might be shooting out of his face.

He doesn’t care.

I think it is for a girl!

Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

“This is amazing.” He turns to Will, almost giddy. Almost delirious. “Did you paint this??”

Will’s face mirrors Mike’s. Excitement. Relief. Something more - a spark that’s too scary to name. Mike is dizzy. He thinks he might giggle - he doesn’t know if he’s ever “giggled” before. (He still suspects some fresh air may be in order, but it’s a low priority at the moment.)

“Yeah. Yeah.” Will says, looking back and forth between Mike’s eyes. Mike can almost see the spark that he’s too hesitant to name. He feels he could reach out and touch it, cradle it in his hands like a firefly.

“I mean.” Will breaks eye contact. He faces forward. “I mean… I mean, El asked me to.”

In his mind Mike sees an image flash like a movie: he opens up his cupped hands and there is no firefly.

What? …El?

Will’s head is turned away from Mike’s, looking out into the distance. Mike stares after him, scrunching his brows, trying to find Will’s gaze again. Listening. Trying to understand.

“She commissioned it, basically. I mean, she told me what to draw—“

Will is painting a lot. But he won’t show me what he is painting. He won’t show me what he is painting. He won’t show me what he’s—

“Anyway,” Mike hears, which breaks the verbal loop his brain has gotten stuck on, tied to the metaphorical tracks of this train of thought, “my point is—“ and after a fraction of a moment, Will leans in close to touch the painting.

Will’s forearm brushes Mike’s hand. And rests there. He starts speaking. Words. Definitely words. Mike is sure words are entering his ears, but his brain is not processing them.

Mike glances down. Bites his lip. His hand is full of warmth, his shoulder has turned to stone because now he can’t move. Will’s whole torso is thiiis close and he can feel his presence like an invisible force field. Focus. Will is talking. Look at the painting. His head is full of bees. His head is full of poetry. He doesn’t think he’s ever written a poem. He’s pretty sure he’s writing about seven and none of them make any sense and they don’t rhyme and something about hands brushing as they reach for fireflies and speaking of flying fires, dragon paintings as a metaphor somehow and—

“—your coat of arms here? It’s a heart.”

His poetry-addled brain latches on to the word. It’s like a portal - he’s present again. He looks up at Will.

“And I know it’s sort of on the nose, but that’s what holds this party together. Heart. Because, I mean, without heart, we’d all fall apart.”

No fair, Mike thinks. Your poems rhyme. Is Will really saying these things?

Will would fall apart without Mike?

“Even El,” Will emphasizes. “Especially El.” He leans away, turning instead to face out the window. Mike can’t decide if it’s Will’s body language that’s just become a metaphor for emotional distance or his words. He thinks it must be both, feels the sudden distance regardless. His hand feels cold.

“These past few months, she’s been so lost without you.” Will is saying. “It’s just, she’s so different from other people. And when you’re… when you’re different, sometimes you feel like… like a mistake.” He’s choked up. Mike can hear it.

Sometimes, I think it’s just scary, Mike’s memory supplies softly. To open up like that - to say how you really feel.

Who are we talking about right now, Mike wonders. El! A part of him chastises. No, another part murmurs gently.

“But,” Will whips around. There are tears in his eyes. “You make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all. Like she’s better for being different.”

Especially to people you care about the most.

“And that gives her the courage to fight on.”

Because what if - what if they don’t like the truth?

The truth, Mike thinks. Being different. A mistake. Courage. His head is full of El, his head is full of Will. His head is full of Mike Wheeler. Courage. A mistake. Being different. The truth. His head is full of fireflies and he can’t think. He has no idea what’s happening on his face and it scares him.

“If she was mean to you, or she seemed like she was pushing you away, it’s because she’s scared of losing you, just like you’re scared of losing her.”

Like I… lost you or something.

Yes, he thinks. Scared. I am scared. Scared of losing—… his mind won’t supply a pronoun. He swears he hears a bzzt and thinks it’s bees, or it’s electricity as his brain short circuits. He loses further control over his face. He’s looking at Will’s lips. Stop that. Smile at him, he’s talking about El. Get it together.

“And if she was going to lose you, I think she’d rather just get it over with quick. Like ripping off a band-aid.”

Wait - what? Who’s losing me? No one’s losing me.

“So, yeah. El needs you, Mike. And she always will.”

That’s better. You’re not - she’s - I mean she’s - not losing me.

It occurs to him a beat too late that Will is done speaking, that he has just bared his heart both verbally and in the form of a painting - or, well. El has bared… her heart? Mike’s head hurts. He’s a writer - words have never felt more difficult for him than in this moment of utter brain sludge.

“…Yeah?” He finally musters, letting his face move intuitively. His heart pounds with affection. He knows it shows.

“Yeah,” Will breathes back. He smiles. His eyes are in pain.

Mike doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand anything. He’s never understood less in his entire life.

Internally, anyway. His own heart. What he does understand is that Will has just made a big gesture of love. He doesn’t feel sure, anymore, that there would be a firefly there if he reached out a hand. Maybe not that kind of… (He can’t finish the thought.) But he knows there is love in this gesture, even if his hands are devoid of softly glowing, fragile creatures. He isn’t leaving empty handed. Will loves him.

He can’t help but smile.

Will turns away. He rests his chin on his hand, looks out the window into the distance. Mike thinks he sees his shoulders shake.

He looks down at the painting, only half-seeing it. There’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t have a grasp on this narrative. His head is pounding out a rhythm so fast and hard it would be danceable if it wasn’t the beginnings of a headache.

Hey, what’s wrong? No.

Are you okay? No.

What the hell just happened here? Definitely not.

He’s not ready for the conversation. Who am I referring to? Mike doesn’t know.

He traces his fingers across the characters on the painting. Softly. Across the heart on the shield.

You’re the heart. You’re the heart. You’re the heart.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

———

Thank you so much for reading!!! 🥺 Please reblog or comment - it would mean the world to me to hear your thoughts.

Bonus: linked here is the amalgamation of the poems Mike’s brain was writing for Will, if you’re curious 🙃💕

Update: incredible fanart that I commissioned from @gmaybe666 who absolutely blew me away 😭💕💕

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

Text

Aftermath (Dagger Squad Drabble)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Dagger Squad, gn!reader

Summary: You wake up on the floor, woozy and aching. After pulling yourself together, you go looking for the rest of the Dagger Squad.

Word Count: 648

TW: I reserve the right to not give warnings that may spoil the story (but it isn't bad I promise and there is a happy ending)

Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for requesting “Against my better judgment, I’m alive" with Hangman. Though he does say the line, I made the fic a more general Dagger Squad story.

Gently shaking his shoulder, you mutter, “Hangman. Hey, Hangman. Come on, get up. You better not have died on me.”

“Against my better judgment, I’m alive.” The response is muffled and slurred, but at least he’s coherent enough to be making wisecracks.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” He lifts his head slightly and squints up at you. “But why are there three of you?”

Shaking your head, you sigh, “Come on, big boy. Let’s get you on your feet.”

“Don’t look at me like that. We’re only in this mess because of you. Now, I need to see how bad it is out there so either stay here or follow me.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe as you take in the destruction on the other side.

For a few seconds, his mouth hangs open in utter disbelief. When he manages to pull himself together, he chokes out, “Ar-are you guys okay? What the hell happened after I left last night?”

Groaning, you plop down next to the still-unconscious Fanboy on the couch. “That’s it. We are never letting Hangman make the drinks for game night ever again.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae

#drabble #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #dagger squad #dagger squad x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin #bob #robert bob floyd #gn!reader

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archivxx · 1 year

Text

✯[0.09]✯

Previous || Next

Note: maybe fake dating Clyde Donovan isn’t too bad…just maybe…

Pete Thelman.

Pete Thelman. Took the rock world by storm in 2015, topping the charts within a year of his first single. Probably one of the most popular rock singers to date. With his own record company with the most prestigious label behind it. Most singers come into the industry with his status as an end goal. Holding some of the most insane musical records. More Grammys than you could count on your fingers. Every musical artist aspired to be like him, took inspiration for him, no matter what type of music the create. Holding some of the most staple and massive concerts. More than enough speculations behind him. Pete Thelman.

Pete Thelman. Stood in front of you calling your fake-date “bro” and “dude.” To say this situation had shocked you would be a complete understatement. You were void of words, thoughts. You couldn’t make a single coherent string of thoughts.

You were staring at him, baffled, his mouth was moving but you had no clue what he was saying. You needed to sit down asap.

He was looking at you with a slightly cocked head, had he asked you something? You clocked back into reality.

“Wait…” he narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you..?”

Clyde watched as you two communicated, it was like just by looking at your faces you could hear the cogs working in your heads.

“Y/N L/N.” You stared at him for a long moment while the puzzle pieces fell into place. “We we’re supposed to meet this afternoon to discuss the event.”

He took a breath and held it then released it slowly. His eyes flicked between you and Clyde a few times before his eyes blew wide. A long “ohhhhh” falling past his lips. “So you’re the girl I’ve been hearing about. Man, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He clapped a hand against Clydes shoulder.

Clearly the whole not wanting to feed the fake dating crap to someone who was clearly a good friend was completely thrown out the window as Pete had heard about it all himself.

You opened your mouth to explain when Clyde cut you off, “You two know each other?” You both looked at him, you had almost forgot he was standing with the two of you.

“Oh right, I already told you, Y/N is the lady I was meeting with today.” Clydes mouth changed into a “o” of understanding. “Hey since we’re already here why don’t you pitch yourself you me now?” You froze. Your blood felt cold. What did he just say? Pitch it now? You weren’t ready.

There was no way you were doing it now, you couldn’t even think straight, let alone pitch it. How were you going to recite everything without messing it up. Your mind felt like a tornado had just gone right through it and messed everything up.

Before you could respond Pete had a hold of your hand and was dragging you back into the cafe. He took you over to a table, Clyde following closely behind you. He sat down and motioned to the place across from him. You parked yourself.

“Okay, Y/N tell me why you want this. Sell your band.” You stared at him, recollecting your thoughts, he was staring at you, waiting. You began to recite what you had practiced, maybe your voice had sounded robotic or something but he cut you off. “No no, not what you practiced. Tell me why you want to do this charity event, what it means to you.”

You really didn’t fancy telling this man your whole life story so you decided to condense it down. “I feel that the band will really benefit from a charity event, additionally cancer is a close subject to me and the other members. It would be empowering to do an event for it.”

“Which is really nice, but it’s still not why you want it, Y/N. Tell me, what does this mean to you.” He poked his finger against the table. Clyde could sense your growing discomfort. He gave Pete a look but he simply dismissed and continued to persist.

“Okay, fine. When I was younger I lost my mother to pancreatic cancer, doing an event to support a charity fighting against it would be empowering for me. My mother was very important to me and the last person I had. I want to do this for her.” You hadn’t noticed it but a tear has rolled down your cheek. You were too focused on watching your hands ring in your lap.

Clyde slapped his hand across Petes arm. Pete once again dismissed it, smiling brightly at you. “I’m sold!” You looked up from from your hands at him. “I mean, first you make this sadistic fucker happy and I’d love to give you an outlet to honour your mother. Also I listened to your music and I like everything that you guys make! I’m sold!”

You sat up straight reaching your arm out to shake his hand. He didn’t return it, instead he got up and hugged you. You hugged back.

When he released you, walked back over to his seat. He sat down and looked between you two. “Okay, now tell all the juicy details about you two.” For such an “emo” looking guy, he sure was social, you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t caught you off guard.

Your head swung round to Clyde, you hadn’t spoken about this yet. He wasn’t looking at you, so you decided to take the initiative. “Well we were both, uh, here late one night and we were both in the break room and I dunno it just sort of happened.”

Clyde stayed silent, clearly he couldn’t come up with anything either so decided to let you do the talking. “You know what eve seen each other around and stuff. I made the first move.” Clydes head snapped around to you, his eyebrows furrowed. You shrugged at him trying to make the unspoken communication between you and him unnoticeable. If Pete had seen either of you, he would have known immediately and called bullshit, they seemed like really good friends.

Pete nodded. “Well I must say I’m shocked that anyone at all can make this guy happy, in the ten years I’ve known him I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile. Well done, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself. Even if the relationship was fake, it was still nice to hear people talking about you like that. You grabbed your phone to check the time. Shit. You were late again. You stood up quickly.

“I’m so sorry I’m going to have to go.”

Pete smiled, understanding. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow with the rest of your band to discuss the business side of things. I look forward to doing work with you, Y/N.” He extended his hand at you, you cupped his hand. A hand shake. Now this whole deal felt a little more real.

You smiled and thanked him then slung your bag over your shoulder and left the cafe. You head for the elevator, pulling your phone out of your pocket and immediately went to your messages.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ryenwritess @southparktegreity @h3artilly @bootsieboo

#south park #bounded smau #reader insert #clyde donovan x reader #clyde donovan #kyle brovlofski #pete thelman #craig tucker #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #nichole daniels

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johnnyraine · 2 years

Text

My Crazy Roommates (Smut!)

Suguru Niragi (Alice in Borderland) x Male Reader x Xue Yang (The Untamed)

Words: 2273

3rd of September, 2022

XXX

The day starts as it does most days, you wake up, do your morning routine, eat breakfast, and go to work.

Later on, you return home, throwing your shoes off, not caring enough to pick them up, and making yourself comfortable, eating snacks, and watching whatever you want.

…That is until a bright flash blinds you.

“Ah!” You exclaim.

Once the light is gone, you try to blink your blurry vision away. Succeeding, you see…

NIRAGI AND XUE YANG!

You sharply inhale before trying to escape, your breathing erratic.

Fortunately, they are still blinded by the light.

Unfortunately, you trip and fall. A glance back shows your discarded shoes. Refocusing on the situation, you try to scramble to your feet, but are kicked, landing on your back. You grunt as a foot lands on your chest. Following it up, you see its, admittedly attractive, owner, Suguru Niragi.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You stumble over your words, unable to get any coherent words out, pissing him off.

“Answer me!” He stomps on your chest.

Fight or flight kicks in and you grasp his leg, but he is kicked off of you, stumbling into the wall.

Xue Yang purses him, not letting a moment pass as Niragi does his best to defend himself.

You miss the snarky comments Xue Yang fires off as your heartbeat fills your ears.

Using this moment to escape, you soon find yourself at your friend’s house, who calls the police for you. But, not even a minute after, your neighbor calls you, telling you that they called the police because of what sounded like “fighting,” and that the two occupants were already in their custody.

For whatever reason, after hanging up, you feel compelled to go to the police station and check on them, much to your and your friend’s bewilderment. But you go and talk to the police, giving them some completely bull story, which later on, you can’t recall how it went, only that you somehow knew what to say.

By the end of it, you say, “They’re my roommates.”

And they let you bail them out.

‘WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT!’ You think, feeling like some higher being must be forcing you, for whatever reason.

By day’s end, Suguru Niragi and Xue Yang, are your “roommates.” Your very dangerous, and attractive, roommates.

~~~

Months passed and... you lived.

Though your life wasn’t great at first. You were the only one doing most of the work: cleaning; cooking: shopping: and having a job. What with your “roommates” threatening you, even if they did lose the weapons, you weren’t having a great time. You had expected worse though, you’ve seen their shows after all, which was another thing.

When they found out that they are, were, fictional characters, you expected them to likely lash out.

So you were surprised when they weren't that shocked or skeptical. But after some thinking, you could see why. Niragi was transported to The Borderland, a place that looks like home but hosts death games which, if you win, allows you to live a few more days until you have to do it again. While Xue Yang came from a wuxia world, where the people fight with magical martial arts, that can allow you to fly and raise the dead if done right.

Following the first two months of your new living arrangement, the two seem to have “mellowed out” a bit.

Niragi was forced to stop his more… violent tendencies, as he was reminded that, yes, the law does, in fact, exist here. While Xue Yang, “mellowed,” it’s very obvious that he only did so because of modern technology and that he’s gotten craftier to work around it. Not great, but it is an improvement… maybe.

On the topic of your two “roommates,” you didn’t fully know how they felt about each other. What happened after your first meeting is still a bit unknown, but you’re fairly certain that Xue Yang beat Niragi.

With that in mind, you’d thought they would hate each other, at least Niragi would. But that changed somewhere in the second month when you discovered that your bed had the look and smell of an… “we fucked in your bed” situation.

You were pissed.

Unfortunately, that led to you yelling at the two, leading to you losing a week of sleep, too afraid that they’d kill you.

The rest of the month passed and you were somewhat sure that you’d live.

Another month passed and you grew a bit bolder, getting more used to the idea that they weren’t going to do anything.

Two more months and you can now call each other roommates, without the quotations!

You all seem to be pitching-in in your own ways, you still have your job, Xue Yang and Niragi… do things. You don’t really question it, you think they’re likely doing something illegal, but you’d rather not know. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that they pay their share of the bills, so who cares? Now and then, you process this and think about “moving out” because of the possible danger… but it passes.

All seems good, it is good.

…You wake up in the middle of the night, remembering how yesterday, the two continuously glanced at each other like they had a plan.

“I’m gonna fucking die,” You whisper to yourself.

~~~

Come morning, you are on constant edge, even as you watch the two eat their breakfast. Your mind racing with possible situations and possible escapes you’ll have to make. So preoccupied, you don’t even notice that you’re staring.

They do.

“What’s wrong with you?” Niragi asks, even though it sounds somewhat like an insult.

“See something you like, Y/n?” Xue Yang asks, teasing you, though you still feel in danger.

Eyes shifting between the two, you move your chair back, “I forgot I have to work early guys, see ya.”

Xue Yang grips your thigh.

“Relax Y/n,” He says, wearing a saccharine smile.

“Yeah, Y/n,” Niragi says, gripping your other thigh. “You’ll really enjoy this.”

You feel a chill run down your spine as these predators gaze upon their prey.

~~~

“Haa,” You let out a breathy moan, looking down at your roommates. On their knees giving you a blowjob.

Their tongues lick either side of your length. Xue Yang gives it a long lick, going up to take you into his mouth, but Niragi beats him by just going for it.

Being glared at, Niragi doesn’t care his tongue circles the tip, his piercing adding to the pleasure as it glides over your slit. Your hips jerk from his ministrations. Not content with standing by, Xue Yang gives a mischievous grin before gripping Niragi's hair and forcing him to take you to the base.

“Ghlgk!”

Niragi gags but makes no motion to stop him as Xue Yang continues to facefuck him on your cock. You feel his throat convulse around your cock, making your toes curl. A few moments of this passed before Xue Yang yanks him off and dives in, taking his turn.

Catching his breath, Niragi tries to do the same to him but fails as Xue Yang forces him to lick the rest of your cock that he doesn’t take into his mouth.

Feeling you getting close, Xue Yang’s mouth leaves your cock before jerking you off, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth in anticipation. Niragi follows after making an annoyed face at him, his tongue piercing shining.

You grip your chair at the sight before letting out a weak moan and cumming.

Just as your cum lands on his tongue, Niragi grabs Xue Yang’s hair and yanks him away with some landing on his face. Niragi, taking most of your load in his mouth, puts his lips around your tip, getting a small jump from you as he sucks.

Xue Yang is growling when Niragi finally leans back, showing you his mouthful, smirking.

Xue Yang opens his mouth to speak but Niragi silences him with a kiss.

The two’s tongues fight, sucking and rolling over each other. Although you are sure this moment is between the two of them, once they separate, you realize that you’re ready to continue.

You’re unsure if they notice because, after their moment, Xue Yang is laying on the kitchen table as Niragi practically makes their pants and underwear disappear.

“Hey!” Niragi exclaims, getting your attention away from his ass.

“Huh? Y-yeah?”

“Bring it,” He says, pointing to what’s on the counter.

Lube.

You are somewhat ashamed that you hadn’t noticed it before, it was that blatant. Then again, you were worried that you’d die today.

Grabbing it, you hear spitting preceded by grunts and low groans.

Turning around, your assumption is proven correct by the view of Xue Yang's legs up against Niragi, who's hilted inside him.

Cringing as they rut against each other, you let out an exasperated sigh and walk over to Niragi’s back.

The next time Niragi pulls back, you reach around him and grab his cock with your lubed hand, startling him. His head whips to look back at you, his thrusts stilted.

“I know you two like each other, but please take of yourselves.” You chuckle softly, feeling more confident.

“Shut up!” They say in unison.

“Calm down you two, I’m merely teasing.” You kiss Niragi’s kneck, feeling him shiver. “Besides, doesn’t it feel better?”

“Hm, Niragi?” He softly moans an affirmative.

“Hm, A-Yang?” You practically purr, your other hand grabbing his leg.

You feel Xue Yang’s leg flex under your touch.

“Yesss,” He moans.

Niragi, who has been thrusting more into your hand than Xue Yang, grabs your wrist and pushes it away, surprising you.

“I can feel you poking my ass, hurry up.”

Letting go of Xue Yang’s leg, you add more lube to your hand and length before helping Niragi, all while he goes back to fucking Xue Yang.

When you are sure he is ready, you lay a hand on his hope and sink into his hot ass.

"Hsss," He hisses, not stopping his thrusts.

With building thrusts into his slick hole, you feel him push back against you with his own thrusts into Xue Yang. Gently, you grasp his balls while your other hand snakes its way up his shirt, teasing his nipple and fondling him as his legs start shaking.

“F-fuck!” Niragi yells, throwing his head back.

Looking over at Xue Yang, you see him stroking himself as he rocks upon the table.

“Take care of A-Yang, will you Niragi?” You whisper in his ear.

Though he grits his teeth, he does, taking Xue Yang’s cock from his grasp and jerking, hard.

His loud moaning stops you from saying anything.

Focusing on the way Niragi's ass feels around your cock, you lean into him, gently tugging and fondling his balls.

His legs already shaky, Niragi falls on the table, landing on his outstretched hands, barely saving himself, and folding Xue Yang in on himself.

"Hhhmm." Knocking him out of breath as Niragi reaches deeper into him.

Niragi's eyes widen as he discovers this. Smirking, he grabs Xue Yang's legs and pushes them to either side of his head, plowing into him.

Xue Yang was breathless and yet, he was harder than ever. With Niragi's cock stretching him to new lengths, he forgot to pay any attention to his own cock.

Niragi's new pose not only helped him but you as well. His ass stuck out more and gripped onto his hips, slamming into him, pushing him even deeper into Xue Yang.

Falling to his elbows, Niragi grits his teeth as it turns more into you fucking him, making him thrust into Xue Yang.

"Fuck me, Y/n. Harder." He grits out.

Following his command, you grab his shoulders forcing him back into your thrust.

Almost lost in his pleasured daze, Niragi heard Xue Yang whine beneath him and, perhaps out of generosity, he jerks him off.

Toes curling, Xue Yang lets out a strangled moan and cums in Niragi's unstopping hand.

Xue Yang knew he was a babbling mess, only coherent enough to moan and enjoy the pleasure.

Seeing this, you chuckle and decide to end this. Taking a different angle, you slam into Niragi’s prostate.

Once more alert, Niragi endures your harsh thrusts, but before long he feels your hot cum filling him. With that, his cock starts throbbing inside Xue Yang and he cums.

Niragi falls atop Xue Yang, refusing to move, though it doesn’t seem Xue Yang minds. That or he’s just tired.

Just as tired, you lay atop the table, your gaze moving between the two before settling on the ceiling, sort-of zoning out.

“Hey,” Niragi gets your attention. “What are you thinking?”

“Probably about us debauched men, sullying him,” Xue Yang teases.

“I’m just thinking that it’s amazing the table can handle so much weight.” Which you were.

Xue Yang cackles while Niragi pushes you off the table.

On the ground, you think about how your lives are going to change, and it does. Somewhat.

The three of you are in a sort-of relationship, there’s more kissing, touching, and sex, but none of you actually talk about being in a relationship. So life just continues as is, you, your house, and your crazy roommates.

…Oh! Uh… a few months later, you end up in the hospital because of an allergic reaction that Xue Yang claims is revenge, though, from the worried look in his eyes, you’re pretty sure he just didn’t know what you were allergic to.

Oh well, you recover and go about doing your regular routine.

#Male Reader #male reader smut #Suguru Niragi x Male Reader #Niragi x male reader #Xue Yang x Male Reader #Alice in Borderland x Male Reader #The Untamed x Male Reader #AIB x Male Reader

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zappedbyzabka · 1 year

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Russolaw with younger Johnny definitely has a daddy kink and no one can convince me otherwise

Johnny was embarrassed about thinking of Mr LaRusso as his daddy, but he can’t help it; Daniel is so caring, sweet, and handsome, and he always spoils Johnny even though he doesn't have to–Johnny would have let him fuck him even he didn’t though, he’d have gotten on his knees the day they met. How can he not think "daddy" when Daniel is on top of him, his cock stretching his hole so well and his scruffy face scraping against Johnny’s smoother one when he groans sweet praise in his ear in that slight New Jersey accent that Johnny likes—okay, maybe loves; feels butterflies and heat in his belly when Daniel first wakes up in the morning, and it’s especially strong in his grogginess—He's touched himself to the sound of it so many times. When Daniel is off on a work trip, Johnny will call him to hear it, say how badly he misses Daniel and how desperate he is, savoring the lowness of Daniel's voice when he gets turned on and starts telling him how badly he needs him too. Johnny writes love notes every night that he slips into Daniel’s suit pocket for him to read at work, either spilling his heart to Daniel in a way he would never feel safe doing with anyone else or random thoughts he’d feel dumb saying out loud—so why is "daddy" so scary to him? It’s not like it even compares to half the things they’ve confessed to each other.

The first time he said it out loud, he was tired and buzzed from Daniel’s fruity beer, laying with him on the couch and drifting off while Daniel stroked his back absentmindedly and watched tv, his half hard dick digging into Johnny's hip, making hazy desire build up in Johnny until he sighed against Daniel's shoulder and slurred "Daddy." He was wide awake when he noticed what he had said, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t expect Daniel to get angry at him or anything, but he did expect held back disgust and awkward reassurances—neither of which he got: "Oh, Johnny." Daniel slid his hand down to Johnny’s ass, just resting it there. "You want something from, daddy?"

Johnny could not stop the broken sound that left him, all the panic draining from his body and being replaced with a heady need. He breathed in the scent of Daniel's earthy cologne one more time before he pulled his face away from Daniel’s shoulder, his mouth watering. He felt even more intoxicated than before, dizzy as he got on his knees, and opened his mouth lazily, sticking out his tongue, beyond coherence. Daniel petted Johnny’s hair before stroking two fingers over his tongue, his eyes dark with arousal but soft with adoration. "You want my cock in that pretty mouth, honey?"

Johnny whined, closing his lips over Daniel’s fingers and suckling. It didn’t take long until Daniel's cock was resting in Johnny's mouth while Daniel continued to watch a show and Johnny dozed off, no worries in his mind.

And Younger Daniel calls Johnny mommy too. It’s one of the first things he thought when he saw Johnny; he just looked so…soft. A cute little pooch poking through his shirt, a curvy waist, perfect, big tits, and frankly, "birthing hips"; Daniel loves the idea of breeding Johnny, having kids with him, and seeing their little faces, golden curls bouncing as little feet skitter across the house, matching doe brown eyes looking up at Daniel, and an elegant nose to go with it all—just like their mommy's. But he was thankful that first night they met that Johnny can’t get pregnant, because once they got done with their first conversation, which was mostly Daniel trying to woo Johnny (though Johnny was a lot more feisty than he’d thought he’d be; he thought Johnny’s personality would be like his looks, but he wasn't disappointed whatsoever—he actually really likes it,) they had a quickie in an alley way, which consisted of Daniel fucking the cleft of Johnny’s ass and cumming on his hole, then taking him to his apartment and spilling his load in it, over and over again because after the first time he did it, Johnny kept demanding more, and Daniel didn’t want to stop anyway. He’s never had someone so eager to suck his cock, nor has he had someone willing to put it in their mouth after he’s fucked them; Johnny is a keeper. Daniel found The courage to say " mommy" later in their relationship when Johnny was riding him—such a beautiful, obscene sight—and Johnny's expression turned into one of amusement when he looked down at Daniel’s scrunched up face, his bouncing slowing. "You like it when I use your cock, don’t you? " Johnny purred, grabbing Daniel’s hand and putting it on his chest. "Play with my tits; come on, big boy." Daniel closed his eyes with a wrecked groan, his other hand letting go of the bedrail to cup Johnny’s other pec. "Yes, mommy."

He never stopped saying it after.

#Lawrusso #russolaw #Safety first #nsft

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