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#and i really am grateful for this chaotic place :')
gabbagabbadoo · 2 years
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i have been on tumblr for 12 years today.
i love my insane little corner of the internet 💚
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Yandere Radioactive Apocalypse
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The constant upset and warring provinces have prepared the world for the worst. Before the blowout, many thought it wise to pay for a bunker for the oncoming atomic apocalypse. Most of the population couldn’t afford to do so, let alone believe that it would be needed. 
They’d be wrong.
Whether you are one of the unsuspecting public or a passive believer, average day life doesn’t have you safely tucked in a bunker when the initial alarms go off. You are smooshed against others in a large crowd all watching and listening in awe. But the moment one person screams it's all over. The crowd twists and turns pulling you in no specific direction. As the final alarms ring out an arm pulls you through the chaotic crowd and into a bunker full of others reeling at the recent events. So here you find that you are trapped safely in the stifling and well-furnished  Atomic Bunker. 
“Who pulled me in here?”
“Does it matter! You survived the initial blast, didn’t you? Ungrateful twat.”
“No need to be hostile, little brother. It's natural to be vexed after watching the world end. Right in front of you.”
“Oh, all those poor souls!”
“My lady, your handkerchief.”
“My baby! My baby! I didn’t grab them! Oh, my poor baby!”
“There there, we’re all very shaken up—”
“B-b-b-but y-y-y-your still smiling—.”
“We are all dealing with the pain in different ways. But let's all take a breather and relax.”
“You don’t sound all that upset to me either.”
“I can say the same thing to you, but I guess you’re just happy to be off the streets, right?’
“Oi!”
Hearing the cacophony of such a colorful cast distracts from the initial fear. Their voices remind you that you're not suffering like the rest of those unfortunate people. They allow you to cry with an audience of fellow mourners and those who can keep calm easily. Before you can let the silence set in, they pull you back with their bickering. It's always either one or two of them that is always voicing their concerns. There’s always a voice of reason, something you’re grateful for as you desperately search for a distraction. 
“Everyone! I believe introductions are in order! I am the middle child of the Penz household as well as the main manager of the bunker.”
With a blonde head of hair and a funky sense of style, his smile persists. Uvil Penz is an interesting guy as you’ll come to find. Aside from smiling during the ongoing onslaught of atomic warfare he always has a way of looking on the bright side for better or worse. 
“Oh, my baby!” 
“Now please miss dry your tears, there are plenty of toys down here to distract yourself with.”
His optimism is surely unique as you can’t quite place where it may stem from. On one hand, you could see it as an unemotional response with an attempt to soothe. But you’ll see him laugh genuinely or offer insight into a person’s emotions. On the other hand, it may come from a sly condescending perspective. It fits right along with his brothers’ behavior. But the way he works to compliment you often, attempting to keep your spirits high, or how he’ll make a request for your favorite foods to be scavenged makes you think otherwise. 
“(Y/n)?”
“Huh? Uh yeah?”
“Did ya know: you’re gorgeous even with those tear streaks on your face.”
“What?”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I think you really needed to hear that now.”
Or maybe that’s just you because you have a hard time believing Uvil trying to be soothing when he’s smiling widely after making someone cry. But it's hard to be decisive about liking or disliking the blonde as he could very well be the one who grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. On top of that, he allows everyone to stay even as opportunity knocks on the bunker door. As long as you don’t mind his ever-present smile and disconnected sympathy life will be great.
“I, Uvil Penz welcome you to the Penz bunker. Now little brother, go on. Introduce yourself.”
“Eugh! Get off me! Ugh, my name’s William and I know this bunker better than anyone else. So better learn to respect me!” 
He’s certainly not like his brother. At least not on the surface. With black short hair and a disgusted sneer constantly on his face. He doesn’t bother comforting anyone at least not in the typical way. Any advice or comfort is said through gritted teeth or with an annoyed click of his tongue.
“Look, if yer gonna keep crying do it in one of the soundproof rooms. You're bothering those of us who want to think!”
Not to mention he’s the first to point out your insecurities or make fun of you for grieving at all. Don’t worry you’re not the only one, he goes just as hard if not harder on everyone else. Making sure everyone is well aware that the whole group knows of their problems. Usually snickering or outright laughing at whoever he’s decided to victimize. At one point, everyone will be annoyed with him. As much as he loves to boast about it he is the only one who knows how to maintain the bunker. 
“Gosh, you are such a pain in the–”
“Don’t forget who knows how to start up the generator…so unless you want to enjoy life without lights, you’ll put your fists down.”
“Ugh! Fine.”
“Thank you…meathead.”
“YOU LITTLE-”
Despite his arrogance, his snarky jabs, and the weirdly endearing way he seeks you out the atomic apocalypse wouldn’t be the same without him. For as annoying and degrading as he may be, he’s still willing to share his switch with you when you’re feeling particularly bored. Making sure you can’t see his face when he pokes the controller against your cheek. 
“Come on. You’re bored aren’t you?”
“You…want me to play with you?”
“Well duh! So…are you?”
“I-I’d love to!”
Not to mention he knows the cheat codes to all the games in the arcade room. And if you do him small favors he’ll share his limited edition ramen with you. Now he may ask for your undergarments or your toothbrush but that’s nothing in the endless days spent in the bunker. After all, it's better than the atomic aftermath out there and according to the only Penz willing to go out there, you wouldn’t last a day.
“Well, my introduction’s done. Marc!”
“Yeah yeah, ‘sup everyone. I’m Marco.”
The eldest of the Penz brothers is concerningly nonchalant from the very beginning of your stay in the bunker. With his girlfriend on his arm and an easy-going attitude, he doesn’t really bother to comfort anyone other than her. Except maybe you. 
“Hey didn’t take you for a late-night snacker. You okay?”
“I’m—fine, excuse me.”
“Whoa whoa, lil’ bunny. Don’t run away just yet, the wolf has questions.”
“Please just–I’ll go back to the room.”
“Nah-ah sit bunny.”
“But you took the only chair.”
“Right here, bunny. We’ve got all night.”
Supposedly, he was quite the womanizer before he got with his current girlfriend. Will makes a point to mention it anytime anyone you is found flustered or flattered by his attention. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from caging you against the bunker walls to ask for something. Or teasing you when he retrieves something from outside the bunker. 
“Come on just grab it.”
“Why are you holding it there? Just hand it to me normally!”
“So rude. I don’t feel like complying with a fussy bunny who doesn’t use their words.”
“Ugh! Fine. Please just hand it to me normally.”
“Ha no.”
“WHY NOT?!”
“It’s perfectly fine just grab it, babe. I don’t mind if you touch me along the way.”
For all his teasing and carefree behavior, he’s a good scavenger. Able and willing to brave the atomic wasteland when the bunker needs supplies. He’s strong and prepared to take on any unruly travelers who come by or intervene during scavenger hunts. 
He’s not all that opinionated when it comes to debates in the bunker. More excited to grab a snack and watch the chaos unfold. Smiling lightly as things get heated and tensions rise. In that way, he’s like an idle NPC but the second his boundaries are crossed then you have to deal with the rare and angry Will. 
“C-calm down Will…y-your not going to k-kill him right?”
“He’s the one who thought inviting our bunker-mates to play in that wasteland was a good idea.”
“Honey, it’s okay! (Y/n) didn’t actually go, right? So it’s okay, right Fin?”
“Yes, my lady is correct.”
It’s just better for everyone that no one gets on his bad side. And that everyone doesn’t mess with the things that make him happy: His peace, his girlfriend's peace, and your peace the happiness of specific bunker mates.
“Oh yeah, this my girl.”
“Um hello everyone. My name is Aria, Aria Mensloth. Marco was the one who brought me here.”
“Lucky you, I bet he’s the only one willing.”
“...Oh uhm yes I am quite grateful. I hope we can all get along.”
Aria is the sheltered blue-haired girlfriend of the eldest Penz brother. Opposites attract because, despite his immense uncaring personality, she’s generally more caring. Trying to check up on everyone she can even if her privileged life brings more misunderstandings than intended. 
“You seem upset, is it perhaps because you skipped breakfast this morning?”
“Uh no.”
“Oh well, for me this is a bigger change from the usual three-course breakfast I’m used to.”
“Okay…”
“Do you not know what that is like?”
She has the best intentions but she’s still learning. Too bad for her the ones in this bunker she is familiar with don’t bother correcting her or informing her unless directly asked. Her boyfriend would sooner chuckle and play with her hair than fill in the blanks. Her butler refuses to say much else than what is needed. So guess who she decides to attach herself to? You, of course. You're the most normal lovely bunker mate around and you don’t immediately insult her when she seeks to shadow you as you navigate your life in the bunker. 
“Ah, so you pick your own clothes out. How fascinating!” 
“Uhm Aria don’t you do the same?”
“Oh no, my butler picks everything out for me. It’s always been that way.”
“Oh…Would you want to try picking out your own clothes, sometime?”
“For myself? Oh no, I’m far too inexperienced….but maybe I could help pick out your outfits!”
“Wait–”
“Does that sound like a good idea, Butler Fin? Can we do it?”
“I see no problem with that my lady.”
“Oh good!”
As Will’s girlfriend, she’s an important person to keep happy. Wouldn’t want to deny her, especially when her beloved boyfriend is working so hard for the rest of the bunker. Not to mention her butler with an ominous gaze who is more than willing to exact her every wish. No matter how invasive it is to your privacy. You’ll have to be careful with your words. Wouldn’t want to make her cry...right?
“Aria, don’t.”
“Ari! Call me Ari!” 
“Ari sorry okay! I just don’t want to bathe with you, so please get off.”
“Y-you’re not trying to leave me, are you?! Didn’t Uvil tell us not to waste any supplies!? So please let me join!”
For as pushy as Aria can be, calling her out on her behavior or offering to tattle on her to her boyfriend usually gets her off your back. But where she lacks persistence, her butler makes up for it. 
“Hello everyone, I am the Mensloth Butler Finster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Finster or Fin, is like any depiction of a dutiful butler come to life. Even with the threat of the atomic apocalypse, he’s still maintaining his mistress throughout. He doesn’t talk much outside of responding to Aria and occasionally the Penz brothers. 
“...”
“Look butler-man, if you’re goin’ to make breakfast why not feed us all?”
“...”
“Butler Fin.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Can you make breakfast for Will, (Y/n), and me?”
“Yes, of course, my lady.”
“Wow….really?!”
You’ll find when he’s alone he can speak without addressing his mistress only when he wants to. But he seems to enjoy your company, especially during the night cycle when Aria is fast asleep. He smiles openly with you, cracking jokes about the day he appeared numb to before. 
“Well, it seems as though you were right about them. Fighting with each other like chickens in a coop.”
“Right? I thought I’d be the only one who noticed.”
“Please your observations are hardly wrong, it helps that we can talk like this with each other. Helps us remember how to communicate. I really appreciate that you’re willing to.”
“Oh uh, no problem I like talking to you too..”
“No, thank you (Y/n). I doubt I could hold any level of sanity if it weren’t for you.”
When push comes to shove, he is capable of holding his own in a debate. His actions can be interpreted as that of a selfless and devoted butler. But it can also be read as that of someone with their own agenda—something practically impossible to decipher by his behavior alone.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for (Y/n) to leave the bunker, either.”
“Y-your actually s-s-speaking? On your own?”
“Well, I bet it’s only because he wants his master lady to not cry like a baby!”
“Was that your intention, Finnster?”
“...My lady, is my top priority at all times.”
It’s a nice illusion though, that he’d be a somewhat normal character, considering he’s often the only one whom you can hold a normal conversation with, without walking away thinking he’s obsessed with you. But his actions do. Oftentimes, watching his behavior without his explanation would make anyone worry.
“Excuse me?”
“I just wanted to ask about you pushing Aria that one time. Why would you do that?”
“Push? Push?! Oh no you’ve got it all wrong, I was attempting to support her back as we looked at the sewer. She did lose her footing but as you saw Marco and I caught her all the same.”
“Oh okay sorry, for misjudging.”
“It’s fine, though I’d be quick to forgive if you joined in some baking with me.”
Always good at conversation, and always willing to help, Butler Finn is a friend to confide in. Someone to talk to about the odd behaviors and conversations you've had with others. One of the other ones you can talk to about this would be your resident walking encyclopedia. 
“H-h-h-hi e-e-everyone I’m S-S-Simpson G-G-g-gron, Will b-b-brought me here.”
He’s like a stereotype incarnated, listing off all sorts of facts you would have never found yourself dedicated to remembering. With a stutter at the beginning of every sentence, Simpson refuses any sort of leadership, very similar to Will’s approach. Rather than having a bonafide position to argue when debates happen he prefers to chime in with what he knows for sure. 
“Look, the sooner we head out. The sooner we can all actually eat something real.”
“But you realize what the risk of leaving may mean, right?”
“The world burned away! Yeah, I got it.”
“A-a-a-actucally I think Uvil sir is r-r-referring to radiation posioning.”
“What?!” 
“The atomic b-b-b-bomb is not only the bringer of destruction, b-b-b-but a disease bringer.”
When he’s not bringing up important information he’s hanging around Will, stuttering a lot less and talking technically with one another. While Will is prickly, he’s able to properly articulate what he knows while also hurting your feelings. Simpson on the other hand…just can’t. It’s something you’ll try working with him on but once he gets going he just can’t stop.
“Okay let’s try this—why should I consider learning code?”
“Well…i-i-it’ll help y-y-y-you understand the programs you use the m-m-m–m-m-most?”
“Good. Now how so?”
“Well..learningtheintricaciesofcodingwillnotonlyallowyoutomanipulateyourownprograms–”
“Okay—now hold on–”
“Butintheendlearningthecodecsnotonlyallowanyonetoknowthesourcesofthewebsitesthatfunctionwithai–”
“Hey-wait!”
“IsitnotwisetolearnwhattheoneswhowillsurvivethistragedyworkthroughyoureyeslookasenchantingaseverAnywaythereallanguagetheyworkwithnowisbinarycodebutthatshouldn’tbe.”
“And there he goes.”
The real advantage of this though is his ability to return the favor of listening to his rambles. He happily listens to yours and comes with questions you’d only find yourself answering in an imaginary interview. But the adoring indigo-green gaze behind those iconic square glasses makes it impossible not to appreciate him. Not to mention, he and Will are the only two who religiously compete with you in the arcade room.
“Ack–that move is illegal!”
“Actually it's quite the opposite, really. This is the rule within the actual manual of the game’s lore–”
“Yeah, (Y/n) don’t be a crybaby you didn’t do your studying.”
“But you hid all the gaming manuals from me!” 
“Well, you are the one who bet something unspecified of yours. It would be unwise not to sabotage you.”
“Ack-! To be admitting it so openly!”
“No use lying about our tactics now that we are guaranteed a win.”
As the most obvious voice of reason, it isn’t a bad idea to be in his good graces. It also makes it harder to believe your own observations when you listen to his. Able to look at the bigger picture while you only have your snapshot or so he says. 
“But doesn’t this kind of product, have dire consequences for eating past the expiration date? And wasn’t there some craze about the aphrodisiac effects it has?”
“That’s a widely spread misconception, the craze was actually about the dopamine rush from the expired product.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure I remember the fanfics celebrating the stuff.”
“You are mistaken!”
“Uh okay.”
So if there’s anyone to rely on it’d be him. He may not be able to care for you as well as some of the others in the bunker. Or be as concerned as others but he’s trying his best. Of course, others may not even heed any of his efforts. Then again some of them hold themselves very highly. 
“Oh, my baby!”
“Miss are you okay to talk or–”
“My name’s Henrietta Spitz! What’s your name?”
“Uhm (Y/n).”
“(Y/n)! Oh (Y/n) I’m so sad!” 
Henrietta is probably one of the oddest characters in the bunker. Known as the distraught young mother who was dragged in by one of the…good samaritans within the bunker. If you aren’t swallowed by grief you’ll be swallowed by hers because she doesn’t let anyone forget what she’s gone through. 
“Wahhh~(Y/n) can I sleep with you?!”
“Uhm why would you need to?”
“I used to sleep with my baby at night. It’d just help me loads if your warm soft body next to mine.”
“Just like your…baby?”
“Yes, just like them~!”
But when she’s not wailing into your chest about her lost child, she’ll start up with a new…grieving routine. One that revolves around you drinking her milk…right from the tap that is. You want to argue with her–put a stop to this weird practice that she seems deadset that you be the only participant. But she cries aaalllll the time. If she isn’t set on fussing over you or forcing you to ‘help’ her grieving she whines and screams bothering everyone in the bunker. So you’ll take one for the team…right?
“I-I have milk for everyone!”
“ We have rations Miss so it's not an issue.”
“B-b-but we might run out! It’ll stop coming if it’s not drunken up!”
“Then perhaps the breast pump you had in your bag would be helpful.”
“B–b-but to keep this up I need to have a hungry mouth on there. It just won’t be the same.”
On top of that, her fleeting sadness for her child seems to conveniently leave her countenance the second it’s too inconvenient. It’s not all that obvious at first, easily being written off as her healing grief. But when she uses it for her own agenda so obviously it’s a little hard to take her seriously.
“STOP CLINGING TO (Y/N)!”
“Nooo! I want them to spend time with me!”
“It isn’t healthy to keep them locked up in your room like this. And (Y/n) you want to leave, don’t you? Finally, get to stretch your legs?”
“Yeah, I–”
“You can’t!”
“Why not?”
“I-I-I-My baby!?”
“What?”
“If you leave, the thoughts of my baby will come back and I just can’t bear it. (Y/n) please!”
Some will argue that what she’s doing is projecting her idea of her baby onto you. That she’s stuck in a psychosis that revolves around the one who she feels is meek enough to baby. But a grieving mother who would be projecting wouldn't do what she does. Everyone grieves differently but it’s the nature of her advancements that might lead anyone to suspect she’s not as motherly as she seems.
“Oh~(Y/n)~!”
“Yes?”
“Did you know something else my baby did?”
“Uhm what?”
“They’d let me wash them all over. And give kisses to me–”
“Okay.”
“On the mouth with an open mouth!”
“Okay? And?!”
It raises some concerning questions and speculations about her story. And how she was able to make it inside the bunker when everyone separately admits they did no such thing as lead her in. Or how she often mixes up the name of the child she seems so stuck on grieving. 
At the end of the day, she’s friendly to you…and maybe only you. She’s quick with her own insults the second anyone goes to question her or make their suspicions known. That and she seems to wryly refer to some hidden piece of information that keeps everyone from encroaching on her behavior. 
With all that being said. She’s definitely not one to forget for her attention to you, barely rivaled by the self-appointed scavenger and protector of you+ the bunker.
“I’m Grant and that’s all you need to know for now. I’ve got questions.”
“Ask a way, Grant.”
“Why do you even have this big of a bunker?”
“Is it so bad that we thought of comfort before the world’s end?”
“...I don’t buy it.”
If there was someone you’d expect to be the main character of some dystopian novel it’d be him. Cynical, confident, and muscled like no other, he becomes the bunker’s prime protector. Despite openly not trusting the Penz brothers he is the first to demand they do something when problems arise. While he’ll sooner croak than admit he relies on them, he does often light the fire for action from the prickly trio. 
“So what are you going to do about this?”
“Hm? Are you acknowledging me as the leader now?”
“No, but if everyone else has already I’d rather not rock the boat.”
“How benevolent of you!”
“Grrr.”
Hotheaded but not impulsive Grant becomes a significant facet of the group. Especially since the bunker needs more supplies. Brave and bold enough he’s willing to dawn the Hazmat suit and venture into the rumored wasteland that remains. It helps that he goes out of his way to help you settle and find your stance as the world goes through change.
“Hey. Here's some of the stuff I brought back. From the address you gave me.”
“Grant! This is-! I’m so surprised it even survived!”
“There wasn’t too much left but it was small enough and I thought it would survive the cleaning process.”
“Grant, really thank you!”
“...I-it’s no problem, you’re just lucky the blast didn’t damage it all too much.”
You’ll find he’s a compassionate guy at heart hardened by some terrible past he occasionally alludes to. But that harsh exterior tends to make up most of his image. Which can often lead to the group having…misconceptions about his personality.
“For a stupid delinquent that guy’s awful complex.”
“Speak for yourself! He keeps trying to tell me what to do!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! He said the time I spend hanging out with (Y/n) is unhealthy! What a nosy brat, criticizing my grieving process.”
“...Whatever."
The animosity for certain members of the bunker would become all too clear for you as the days pass. Such behavior is natural for those trapped in the same tight quarters. The same tight quarters that you can’t seem to leave; forced to watch these characters destroy themselves as they fight over something you.+ 
“Oh, guess it's my turn my name’s–”
“We’re happy you're here (Y/n).”
“Yes, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” 
“Nice to make your acquaintance.”
“We are all happy to meet you, (Y/n)!”
“Pft, suck-ups. Welcome, I guess.”
“I-I-I-I-I hope w-w-we can be close.”
“Oh (Y/n), you remind me so much of my lost little love! C’mere!”
“Hey Guys! Give them space!” 
The coming months will certainly be almost as chaotic as the world’s declining state. With your new family den of lions, surely there’s a sliver of a chance that you’ll thrive in the radioactive apocalypse. 
It’s best you start documenting your adventure now….
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TELL ME YOU THINK ABOUT ME TOO
Part of the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three
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Steven Grant x F!Reader (hints of Marc Spector x F!Reader) 18+. 9K. Friends to lovers with a shit ton of pining. Female masturbation. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected shower sex. Steven being all soft and needy but also a little feral.
Prompt: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"
Requested by: @acrossthesestars , I am so sorry for how long this has taken me and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤
Their relationship was an odd thing Steven thought. Chaotic in the kind of way that not many would understand. 
God, he just barely understood it himself after all.
It's him and it's Marc and it's you, all entwined, your lives like singular threads that were blown together and now lay impossibly tangled. Knotted so tightly that even if someone was to try and shear them apart, there would still be remnants of the others embedded in the one they tried to pull loose. 
And then it went beyond that. 
There were the separate tanglements that branched from the heart of the whole one. Himself and Marc. Marc and you. You and him. 
He knew that there were differences - that there was something more between you and Marc. Another level to the relationship that Steven yearned for but felt would be pushing his luck to try and approach with you after you had already given him so much. 
When he wasn't in control he sometimes saw fragments of it, glimpses that made him flush and his chest tighten, desire clashing with the jealousy that sat like an uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat. He saw you through the thinning glass between the alters, saw your lips part around a throaty moan that hit him like a train, the slopes of your bare skin, sweat slick and gleaming, as your back bowed in pleasure.
He was always quick to turn away before he saw too much, squeezing his eyes shut to give you your privacy and to chastise himself for those feelings that were steadily slipping further out of his already shaky control. 
He was arguing against himself, the part of him that craved more than he should, stern in the reasoning that he should be grateful to have you in any capacity. To have your friendship and your care, your protectiveness over him and the way your eyes glowed with interest, gaze fixed on him and smile soft, warm and encouraging, no matter what subject he chose to ramble on and on at you about. 
And if that wasn’t enough to make him hold his tongue then the insecurities that clung to his bones and his insides - his poor lovesick heart - in strings of black tar, were certainly more than willing to do the trick.
Because why would you want him like that when you've already got someone like Marc? Someone so clearly your equal. 
Would you be offended by the idea of him as a partner - of being with both of them? 
What if he ruined things entirely - made things weird and you leave? Plunging your hand in that mess of threads and ripping yours away, splitting fibres that burrowed beneath his skin and left him forever haunted by the ghost of you. 
It didn’t matter that Marc had tried to tell him otherwise, gave Steven as many hints as he could without revealing the extent of your feelings because that was your business and not his place. His voice growing exasperated the longer that Steven refused to do anything about it. 
"Do you really think she would put up with all of this, if she didn't love both of us?"
Yes.
No. 
Bloody hell, he didn't know. 
It’s a question he didn't have an answer to and so he chose to ignore it completely. 
Buried it alongside the too fast flutter of his pulse beneath his skin when you drifted close, when your hand was threading through the mess of his curls. Gentle fingers tilting his jaw, stroking the fragile skin beneath his eyes as you checked for signs that he wasn’t sleeping as well as you’d like before you mumbled out a happy sounding noise, pleased when you found none.
He swallowed it back and pretended it didn't burn all the way down. Like the thought didn’t feel like it would burst him to flames the same way it did when he woke to find you wound around his body, legs tangled with his and your breath, soft and warm, against his neck. 
The only reaction you gave when realising you had fallen asleep with Marc and woken with Steven, being the shy smile that crept across your lips as you gazed up at him, arms making no move to let him go, to push him away and create distance. 
He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. 
He was in over his head.
** 
It was after a fight that it happened. 
They returned to the quiet of their hotel room, heads down and bodies tucked in on themselves as they passed through the plain reception and the corridors with their aged, peeling wallpaper until there was the relief of the door clicking shut behind them. 
They were stained with the after effects of their violence. Blood splattered jaws and rust beneath their nails, the collar of Steven’s sweater torn wide, slit at the abdomen from where he was stabbed before he’d remembered to summon the suit and when he looked at you, there were already bruises blooming. Creeping across your skin - the swell of your cheek - before his very eyes, muddied shades of navy and lavender that made him wince and his hands twitch. 
You smiled when you caught it, all easy charm, a sweet, placating thing that softened the sharp edges that still clung to your features after a mission. “I’m fine Steven.” You told him gently. “Nothing a shower and some bandages won’t fix anyway. 
He nodded, a little unsure as always, trying to offer a simple smile back because Steven’s learned it’s best not to hover when it comes to you. To treat you like you were made of glass just because you were something infinitely precious to them. That you could easily grow frustrated at the way Marc loomed like a pissed off drill sergeant and Steven fretted like a frantic, mother hen when they saw you hurt all because you lacked an ancient god fused to your bones and hooked in the meat of your soul. 
Instead he slipped into the bathroom and cleaned away the blood that itched at his own skin, his stomach only faintly twisting this time as he watched it swirl pink in the water before slipping down the drain. 
He was getting better at it, he realised belatedly. It didn’t feel like he’d lose whatever food he had managed to get down that day anymore when he was faced with the evidence of what he had done, like his stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and he needed you to scrape the sweat-damp droop of his curls away from his clammy forehead. Mouthing soothing sounds into his shoulder as he groaned and coughed up his guts. 
Once he was dressed in something that didn’t look like it’s seen the inside of a shredder he went out again. 
It was routine by now. Him or Marc would go in search of food - flaky pastries dusted with cinnamon or soaked in syrup. Steaming pasta in rich, silky sauce with thick slices of buttery garlic bread. Tacos. Gyoza. Earl grey cake from the bakery you passed on your way into town. 
Anything you asked for because it was the only way you ever really let them take care of you, only huffing slightly when they handed you the painkillers that you absolutely always argued you didn’t need if they didn’t bribe you first. 
And by the time they typically got back you would already be lounging in the bed. Hair slightly damp from the shower, wounds neatly bandaged, and looking far too warm and soft than Steven’s poor heart could handle, sunk into the plethora of mismatched pillows. 
It always made his heart flutter in his chest to come back to you waiting, to step into the room and find your eyes shining over at him, your hands already outstretched, making grabbing motions that had him chuckling as you beckoned him towards you with the food. Head tilting in the direction of the box tv as you teased him with a grin. “It’s about time, there’s an old crime documentary about to start, I thought we could watch whilst we eat.” 
Which is why it struck him as odd when he returned and there was no sign of you. The bed still neatly made. The blank screen of the tv staring back at him, projecting nothing but his own reflection, when his gaze flicked to it. 
He relaxed when he registered the faint sound of running water - the repetitive pattering of spray hitting the tiles. Shook his head at how his body had immediately drawn tight with anxiety all because you weren’t where he had expected you to be. The breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding blowing past his lips in a rushed exhale at the smell of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, comforting in a way he couldn’t explain, seeping beneath the bathroom door. 
Everything’s fine. She’s fine. You were just worrying over nothing.
But then he heard it. 
His name. 
Or at least, he thought he did. There was a few beats of silence when he stopped, quietly placing the bag of food onto the side as he strained to listen. Nothing. 
It was maybe his imagination, he thought. 
Maybe you had been mumbling to yourself, singing beneath your breath like he knew you liked to do when you thought no one could hear. He went back to sorting the food with another shake of his head, a mutter to himself that he was growing far too paranoid as he pulled out the containers and the plastic utensils before reaching over to the little tv to find something you might be interested in watching when you eventually did come out.  
And then he definitely heard it again. 
A touch louder, clearer that time than the last, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sound. It was a pained thing - a low moan that cut to a whimper and Steven almost completely lost his head. 
Were you hurt? Had he left when you needed him? What if you’re trying to hide the seriousness of one of your wounds, bleeding out in there because of your stubborn refusal to worry him?
He called to you once. A second time that was steeped in a dizzying panic, and when there was no response again all thought went out the window. He was lunging for the door to the bathroom, sweat-damp hand fumbling with the handle before he nearly wrenched the damn thing off despite Marc’s suspiciously calm voice in his head telling him ‘Steven wait..it’s not what you think-’ 
He almost snarled at that, bristling in disbelief that Marc could be so unbothered when Steven’s fear had snapped to life in an instant to clutch him by the throat. There was an anger he wasn’t quite used to rushing through his chest, burning vicious and ugly, charring his bones as he spat back at the other man, “If you think I’m going to ignore the fact that she’s seriously hurt then you’re fucking mental, what is wrong with you!” 
Marc didn't respond, at least not with words - there was a weary sigh that seemed to say ‘suit yourself’ and then silence. Good. 
He refused to pay him mind, to focus on anything else other than you, getting you the help you needed, and when he finally flung the door open, the noise of it hitting the wall almost deafening in the silence of that tiny room, everything suddenly stumbled to a halt as what he’d just walked in on seared itself upon his brain. Burning bright behind his eyelids when he slammed them shut, a hand slapped over them for good measure.
Because you were all bare, steam-slick skin. Glittering with the droplets of water that caught the light and shone as they trailed down your body in a way that made the image of him catching each one with his tongue flash across his mind, unbidden, entrancing him until his gaze had followed a shimmering path to where he'd discovered the hand buried between trembling thighs. Your fingers that halted their quick, jerking movements as your pretty features morphed from pleasure to stunned surprise. 
“Oh god -  bollocks - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-"
He was rambling. Stammering on his words like his tongue was too thick for his mouth, choking on the billows of steam he was breathing in as his face flushed with the sickening kind of heat that came with pure mortification and good fucking god, what the hell was he doing still standing there? 
“I’m sorry,” he continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt. It burst out of him almost, jumbled and tumbling, all frantic to make you understand. “My name- I heard you say my name and I thought… it sounded like you were hurt and I know you like to handle your injuries alone but it sounded bad and I thought you could be bleeding out or dying and I just couldn’t–”
You were wrapping gentle fingers around his wrists before he could talk himself breathless, into an early grave with the way his pulse was hammering beneath flushed skin. Your voice fell even softer, barely rising over the sound of the water that was still pelting against the tiles, as you told him, “Steven, calm down. Look at me, it’s okay.” 
He wanted to resist, unwilling to face the weight of your disappointment, the shame that would only double tenfold when that harsh glare of yours undoubtedly pinned him with it, but he found himself compelled by a featherlight touch at his jaw, the arc of cheek, sweeping the damp curls from his eyes just as they fluttered open. 
Steven gulped as his stare settled on you, closer than he'd expected you to be, now wrapped up in a thread-bare towel that hid only enough skin for you to be considered decent but had him sending a prayer of thanks for to any god that would listen anyway. He didn’t think he’d survive it otherwise.
Not with the way you were actually looking at him. Touching him. 
He was already having trouble breathing properly, his stomach still flipping from the memory of you, your closeness to him now when your soft moans were still echoing around in his head. 
Steven, Steven, Steven. 
His heart had yet to return to its normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.
 It certainly felt like he could. 
Your expression grew anxious whilst you simply watched one another, gaze troubled and brow knit into a soft frown. Your lip drawn between your teeth in a way that made him have to swallow down the urge gently tug it free with his thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches. An even softer kiss. 
Gods, he was pathetic. 
Even when he was expecting you to be angry at him, for that gentle calmness to drop any second to reveal disgust, he still couldn’t stop himself from thinking about touching you, kissing you. Loving on you. He wanted to shake himself, to rub away the ache in his chest that worsened as your lips parted and he braced himself for you to tell him you couldn’t be around him after this. 
“It’s not you who should be apologising, Steven.” You told him instead, voice tinged with guilt, a hint of embarrassment. Nervous in a way he’d never seen before. And when your eyes dropped briefly to where your hands were still cradling his own you missed the way he blinked at you in stunned confusion. 
“I shouldn’t have been doing that - thinking about you like that - definitely not when you could hear…shit- I’m so fucking sorry you heard it and saw what you did. I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me and you need a break or something, fuck - is that something you would want? Do you want me to go?” 
Steven didn’t even know what to say. His expression had morphed into something utterly dumbfounded. His brain screeching to a halt at your apology - your confession? 
It was spinning around inside his skull like a carousel, all bright flashing light and the swelling tinkling of fairytale music. Because surely it couldn’t be real right? He’d not really heard what he thought he had, he’d not heard you admitting that you think about him.
Maybe he’d been knocked out during the fight and this was a dream? He almost found it easier to believe.
Except for the fact that in his dreams he didn’t have Marc’s voice in his head - seething with frustration. He wasn’t being yelled at to say something. Say anything. He wasn’t getting stressed out by the irate stream of demands mixing with his own rapidly firing thoughts until they all muddled into something that felt an awful lot like the oncoming of a migraine. 
He wanted to snap at Marc to be quiet for just five bloody seconds but then he was raising his voice again - more worried this time - and it cut crystal clear through the rest of the noise. Sharp enough for Steven to finally understand what the other man had been desperately trying to snap his attention to. 
‘Jesus fucking christ Steven, she’s going to leave! She thinks you don’t want her - SAY SOMETHING.”
And Marc was right. You had drawn away from him, dropped your hands from his cheeks and tucked them into your sides, arms crossed over your chest like you were shielding the vulnerable parts of yourself you’d only just worked up the courage to expose. 
Curling into yourself in the face of what you perceived as rejection. 
He watched in a throat-tight panic as you nodded solemnly and made to squeeze past him, reaching for the door that had swung back closed behind him from the force with which he had thrown it open. 
It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life - a smack of reality cracking across his bewildered face that told him you were about to walk out of that door, out of their shitty hotel room and straight out his life if he didn’t stop you. 
Steven was whirling around before his mind could even register having told his legs to move. He caught at your wrist with a shaky hand , the touch of it feverish against your skin that had rapidly cooled once outside the heat of the shower - goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips despite the balmy air that swirled around them. 
You turned, fingers still grazing the door handle, and looked at him, wide eyed and apprehensive, unwillingly hopeful, and it was enough to make the muscles in his throat unlock. Words bubbling up and past his lips before he could even consider if they were the right ones. 
“Did you mean it?” He rasped. “ You think of me when you touch yourself?” 
There was silence for a second, maybe two, and by the way you sucked in a breath - lips parting as you stared at him - he suspected the question had been the last thing you expected to be asked. 
It was agony to stand there and wait and Steven tried his best not to let it show, tried not to breathe because every inhale was drenched in you. 
The scent of your shampoo and your body wash and your breath fanning across his lips when he subconsciously leaned closer. The weight of his heart that wasn’t really his anymore, hadn’t been since he met you, sat on his tongue. Ready to topple along with the desperate plea he was fighting to keep clamped behind his teeth. 
Please. Please tell me you think about me too - that you want me just as much as I want you.
And then, “I did,” you whispered, soft and hushed like you were worried if you spoke any louder it would ruin whatever was happening between you, “I do.” 
He surged forward and kissed you then. Both of you colliding with the door with the force of it, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you. It was a little clumsy but it still made your breath catch in your throat, made your body melt into his and your hands fly to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you under. 
It wasn’t a sweet, soft thing like Steven had always imagined kissing you would go, all romantic like pretty sunsets and doves flying, a choir singing in the background as he tenderly cradled your cheeks in his hands. 
It was tongue and teeth, months of repressed yearning bursting free and swallowing him whole, demanding that he devoured in turn. Making everything a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic. 
He let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth that followed until he was breathless and his knees threatened to buckle. A hand dropping to your waist to palm at the curve of it, fisting tight at the cotton towel, and the other sliding from your cheek to grasp a handful of the hair at the back of your head. Both meant to keep you locked to him just as much as it was supposed to keep him grounded. 
Steven felt greedy with it, braver than he’d ever been with every little moan that slipped from your lips to his for him to swallow down and when you finally pulled back an inch gasping for breath, lips parted and expression looking entirely kiss-drunk, he felt like he’d found heaven. 
His field of reeds, in the way your eyes were shining.
The way your fingers trailed up his neck and tangled in his curls to keep him from straying too far.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin as he pressed each word to your lips when you tugged him back down to kiss him again.  “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.” 
You sighed into him, the hand in his hair tilting his head so you could kiss him deeper, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his hips buck against you. 
It had a groan tearing through Steven’s chest when you pressed back, all silky, steam-damp skin and barely any material between you that suddenly felt that much less with the way it was clinging to you both. 
“Steven…please.” You breathed.
And gods, you sounded just as needy as he felt. 
So he hitched your leg high up at his waist and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to take note of the exact angle and pressure that made you keen so he could do it over and over again. 
He could feel how wet you were, the bare heat of you soaking into his jeans, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard beneath the denim and Steven felt himself twitch at every gorgeous sound that poured past your lips -  at the way you had snuck you hand between your two bodies without him noticing to palm at the thick outline of his cock. 
It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you squeezed him just right and then he was curling himself over you, burying you into the door and mouthing sloppy kisses and obscene praise into the skin of your neck whilst he rocked his hips. 
He forced himself to bite back a whine when you pushed him back an inch, extracting yourself from his grasp so you could stand before him properly, eyes glossy and a touch wild, all panting breaths as your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and tugged. 
“Need to feel more of you.”
And then you were yanking it over his head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten about whilst you pressed your hands into the warmth of his chest and made a greedy noise of appreciation that threatened to make his heart burst, a groan rumbling in his throat in response when you dragged your nails ever so lightly across his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans. 
His hands found yours then. Stopping them from popping the button beneath your fingertips, and when your eyes shot to his, the beginnings of the soft frown that shadowed them melting into something akin to surprise once you caught sight of him, he wondered if you could read the desperation that he was sure was plastered all over his face. 
Because it wasn't that Steven wanted to stop that had him catching at you. 
It was the utter assurance that if you got your hands on him he wouldn't last a fucking second that made his voice hoarse and his own hands tremble as he all but begged.
"Tell me more of what you think about… tell me what you want." 
And Steven didn't think he'd ever forget the way you looked at him then, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry. Lips kiss-swollen and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.  
You looked wrecked by his words. 
By him. 
He was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all. 
You drew his hands up whilst his lips were busy curving over yours, pressing them to the place where the towel lay knotted against the warm flush of your chest and when he groaned at the implication, the way the material came that little bit looser at the slightest touch, you took advantage of his distraction to skim your mouth across his cheek and to the delicate curve of his ear. 
“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, breath hitching when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric slipping away in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.”  Added like it was possible he would even think of saying no, like his hands, large yet reverant, weren’t already exploring. Pulling shudders from your body with every light graze of his fingertips. “I think about it all the time.”
Steven was a goner. Utterly devoted to bending to every whim that you had, to acting out every thought that had popped into your head from whenever you had begun to want him until right then. He wanted to know it all. 
How could he not be when you were reacting to him so beautifully? 
Your fingers had left his to wander long ago so you could twist them into his hair instead. Using your hold to crush him into you further and kiss him breathless when he touched somewhere that made you arch, to tug just a little meanly at the soft strands when he lingered on his path to where you were apparently growing impatient for him, and by the time he was tracing the crease of your thighs you were both wound achingly tight, panting into each other’s mouths. 
He matched your moan when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”
Tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Tell me exactly how you picture it so I can give you everything you want. 
Tell me, tell me tell me.
“Fuck, yes, more– please - don’t stop.”  You rushed out, voice strained but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t the prettiest Steven had ever heard it. Absolutely hypnotising and he was under its spell without question, ready to worship at your altar in any way you deemed fit. 
He kissed you with heavy-lidded eyes and open-mouthed, lips catching at yours in the briefest bursts because he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way your chest heaved as he slipped a finger inside you, a second. 
The way your own stare glazed when you told him just how much pressure to use whilst he curled his fingers and had you choking on the words, clenching around him before you could even finish. 
You were feverish in his arms, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Steven almost lost his head at the state of you, trying his hardest to not bite his lip bloody when every flex of your hips into his hand had it pressing against his own need. He allowed himself to rock into you just once and then hastily pulled back as the pleasure burned white-hot, sliding his thumb a little firmer over your clit when you squirmed and whined at the loss of him. 
“I know, I know– m’sorry love.” He gasped, breathless, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so fucking good– I can't–”
You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers curling around the nape of your neck in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable want clawing at his insides so savagely that he could hardly move without the friction of his jeans threatening to send him over the edge. 
Bloody hell, you had him so fucking desperate he could scarcely think. 
You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me?- I’ll give you anything you want, darling, please.” 
He barely registered the knock of your head falling back against the door, the whisper of a curse slipping past your lips, because at his words you had clamped tight enough around the twist of his fingers to make him shudder. Lashes fluttering at the way your nails bit deep into the muscles of his shoulders as the slick sound you being fucked on his hand grew over the roar of the shower. 
“I- I don’t- Steven, oh fuck.”
Maybe that’s what did it. The way you were so ready to fall apart for him, all pretty and messy and pleading something sinful for more, more, more. Maybe it was the way the evening light peeking in from the tiny window had begun to turn into shadows, hiding the way his cheekbones were swept with pink better than the clouds of steam ever could. 
Or maybe it was the fact that every time his name dripped off your tongue it made him feel so fucking wanted that he was delirious with it, his heart full and shining golden as you peeled back each of those strings of black tar insecurities that had choked the beating flesh for far too long.
Whatever it was, there was suddenly a new found confidence that burned through his veins, one that took every dirty thought swirling in his head and made him prepared to do them all. To give you anything you wanted, regardless of whether you were actually capable of forming the words for yourself. 
There was no missing the blaze of your stare caught on his lips as he spoke after all. 
Oh.
“Do you want my mouth?” Steven asked hoarsely against your throat. “Is that something you've thought about - you want me to taste you?” 
He barely waited for your desperate nod and then he was gone. Dropping to the floor and ignoring the flash of pain that the cold tile spears through his knees as he buried his face between your soaked thighs. 
The first flick of his tongue made your breath catch. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. A third had you tugging at him hard enough that Steven whined into you, the fingers that were dug into the meat of your thighs slipping to your ass to press you to him tighter, his hips thrusting against nothing whilst you bucked against the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited. 
The sight of it was maddening, it was divine. 
He still didn't quite believe this wasn't a dream. 
There was sweat beading at your hairline - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts. He watched the way your free hand trailed the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to the added sensation in the flutter of your walls around his fingers. Squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter, as he rubbed at the soft patch of tissue until your thighs quaked around his head and you grew liquid. 
Voice thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were oh so close and please don't stop. 
He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give. 
And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until you spasmed and gushed around his fingers. Didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your climax until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack into the door. Propped up between the paint-chipped wood and Steven’s flushed body shoved tight against your own. 
He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your swollen cunt as he was made to look up at you.  
“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as wrecked as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his knees with his eyes dazed and face coated glossy with you. 
“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “you just taste better than I ever dreamed you would.” 
Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, as the first tendrils of hunger crept back into your expression alongside the tender amusement. “Fuck, Steven - who knew you were such a smooth talker?” 
He laughed, a bright burst, cheeks kissed pink with the heat of your words and the slightly smug feeling of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest as he watched you glow with pleasure before ducking his head. 
“I think that's all you, darling. I can't help it - not with the effect you have on me.” Steven mumbled, a soft and embarrassed grin tugging at his lips even whilst they trailed high over your shin to the crease behind your knee - rising up, up ,up to explore the warm skin of your inner thigh as his fingers swirled delicate little patterns at your ankle. 
He couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was. 
And when his other hand swept the length of your leg to stroke over your belly you made a playful grab for it and brought it to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him. Pulling him up your body until his jeans were scraping at your skin and his mouth was surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted. 
Steven let you wind around him, let you urge him closer and closer until he was crushing you against the door at your back- wood slippery with condensation. 
He let you roll your hips into his own and finally allowed himself to chase the pleasure with you as it renewed its intensity, let the thick outline of his cock rock against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur. 
“I want you inside me– want to make you feel good. Please, let me show you the effect you have on me.” 
It sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far. 
He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?” 
You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers digging hard into the meat of your ass whilst you clung to him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months - the way you'd feel- how you'd fuck me- oh gods.” 
Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.” 
This time he didn't try to stop you when you reached for the last article of clothing keeping his body separated from yours.
There was the sharp clink of metal as you tore your hands from his hair to wrestle with his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you fought to tug it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the tiled floor with a quiet thud and a clank. 
And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to shakily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he straightened, utterly naked before you apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin. 
He felt a flicker - the ghosts of his insecurity passing over his face before he could blow them away like cobwebs- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you. 
But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like. 
You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing slick against your hip. 
“I want you, Steven, I don't have the perfect words to explain just how much right now… just know that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I met you and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.” 
Gods, you were threatening to undo him. 
You had said you didn't have the perfect words and then given him everything he had dreamed of. Everything he thought he would die still wanting and never get to hear. 
Steven swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and then he was bending down to lift you in his arms, the strength of a god thrumming through his muscles and large hands gripping beneath your thighs as you wound your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Clutching needily at him whilst he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses. 
“You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your jaw, the damp warmth of your cheeks as he walked you into the shower, murmuring the next ones over and over until the rush of the water threatened to drown them out, “I’m yours.” 
You went soft for him in the cradle of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely. 
Beneath the luke-warm spray and with cold tile at your back, you drew him closer, nudged your nose tenderly against his own and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all. 
The image of you that he was sure not even in death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips swollen with his kisses, all lush, silken skin that shone under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow. Droplets of water clinging to your hair and lashes like crystals. You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy. 
It was almost too much and Steven hissed sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you, a whimper caught in his chest and eyes screwed shut as you lowered yourself down inch by inch until his hips met yours. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale. 
“Oh,” you breathed, “fuck, Steven.”
At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak. 
But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more. 
“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered up at you. Half adoring, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–gods, you feel too good.” 
He could only moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have had his cheeks flushing scarlet had he not been so out of his mind. Could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no god or pact needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. “It’s okay, Steven, it’s okay. It’s already so good, christ–you feel amazing, just let go for me, I want to feel it.” 
It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, tightening his grip on your ass and lifting you up higher so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust sliding you further up the tiles and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own. 
It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising above the dull roar of water pelting against the tiled floor. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out everytime you slammed yourself down to meet the frantic rolling of his hips. 
Steven had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely. 
There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to weaken his knees and you gasped in surprise, legs clenching tight at his waist, when he moved to hold you with just one arm banded around across your back as his other hand slammed against the wall for support. 
It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers in his hair and teeth searing a mark into his shoulder. 
“Steven,” you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”
It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Steven couldn’t get enough, He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling nonsense, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey. 
And then he latched his mouth to your nipple, relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue and scraped his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.
“Touch yourself.” Steven begged, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Want you to show me– want to see how you touched yourself all those times you thought about this.” 
You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to thrust a shaky hand down to where he was fucking up into you, to the crest of your sex where you were soaked and scorching like a furnace, and once you were there, your fingers drew quick, sloppy circles to your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe. 
“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as your back arched like a bow. “Steven, oh my god, I’m gonna–”
He surged up before you could finish, hand tearing away from the wall to tangle itself in your wet hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest. 
It was too much - he was bordering on delirious. Everything was hot and wet and he was wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti. It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body. Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards. 
There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth. Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to raise and lower yourself up and down on his cock that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist. 
And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Steven was utterly lost. 
“C’mon Steven, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to come for me, I want to feel it, please.”
He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms winding achingly tight around you as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over. 
And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beat against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him almost falling to the shower floor with you. Both of you slipping down the wall just an inch or two before he managed to right himself on weak legs to the sound of your startled laugh. 
It wasn’t until he had set you down and moved to clean you up, massaging with gentle hands and tender sweeping kisses all the places that he’d gripped so tightly, the places where you were starting to bare his marks that had him frowning apologetically, that it finally hit him that the shower was running cold. You were both being pelted with what felt like tiny shards of ice against your rapidly cooling skin and you snorted a laugh when he yelped in shock and immediately dragged you out of there, eyeing him with a sticky-sweet kind of affection as he snatched the thickest towel he could kind and wrapped it around you before pulling you close in an attempt to warm you up. 
The way you were looking up at him was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that sprouted wildflowers and soft vines that breached through all his organs to wrap around his ribs. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you. 
It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?” 
And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the tiny, damp bathroom. 
“Please.” 
So he kissed you like he’d always wanted to the first time, slipping his fingers through the wet tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy  against your own. It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all. 
You just stood leaning into one another for a while, foreheads resting together, noses nudging each other lazily alongside the occasional soft brush of lips. And then you were wrapping him up in a towel of his own and leading him to the bed, using an extra towel to carefully dry him with a reverence that had his heart flip flopping in his chest and a blush rise high on his cheeks. He melted when you kissed him, little butterfly presses to his arms and chest before you pulled a clean sweater over his head, his thighs and his hips when he lifted them for you to pull his sweatpants on. 
And once Steven had returned the favour, he was drawing you to him in the middle of the bed, your back to his chest and the food that had long gone cold balanced precariously on the blanket pooled around you both. He fed you bites of chorizo and feta fries, coated in herbs and sprinkled with pomegranate, whilst an old movie played and when those three words fell from his lips, without thought and as easy as breathing, Stevens was no longer afraid. 
No longer felt in over his head. 
He murmured against your hair. “I love you.” And swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat when you turned and smiled, your fingers touching his face like he was something precious you had spent a lifetime yearning for before giving him the answer to a question he’d always thought he’d have to ignore for the rest of his life to save his own heart. 
“I love you too.” 
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princessaxoxo · 6 months
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Thanksgiving
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August Walker x Reader 
Summary: August has you over for thanksgiving.
Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f receiving), pet names, some food play, fluff, age gap, vulgar language
Wordcount: 930
A/N: Had this in mind for weeks but things got a bit chaotic in my personal life so it is a bit rushed. So sorry. 😣
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A spread of Thanksgiving delicacies and candlelight covered August's dining table as you were squirming in your seat across from him. Although you had been alone with him before, this was the first time he had asked you to his place with such boldness.
“Which one do you prefer?” He pointed at the turkey and ham. “Oh, um, the turkey,” you awkwardly replied. Internally, you were scolding yourself.
August took your plate and placed a turkey slice on it. When your plate was placed in front of you again, part of the food was on the edges since you didn't want to be impolite and refuse any of the food he had prepared. “It looks delicious, August."
As you began eating your food, halfway, you noticed August hadn’t touched his. “Why aren’t you eating?"
August took notice of your nervous mannerisms since the beginning of the night. “Why are you fidgeting?” You looked away from his eyes and dropped your utensil. He leaned across the table and raised your face so you would look at him. “Tell me.” His light-hearted question has now turned into a demand.
“Well, we’ve never done this.” His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What do you mean?"
“This is intimate. Well, we have been intimate before, but this is a different type of intimacy. It’s romantic. This is different for us.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. August sat back in his chair and chuckled.
“It’s not funny!” You huffed and crossed your arms.
“Oh, I don't think it's humorous, baby. I simply don't understand why you withheld your concerns from me. I am aware that this is unusual for us because we haven't been able to go on the kind of date that I had hoped for. However, the fact that it will be our first Thanksgiving spent together makes it more special.”
Suddenly, all the nerves you held floated away.
August took a few steps around the table before bringing out the chair beside you. He kissed your hand after grasping it.
"This is really special, and I'm glad it's with you. Thank you for doing all of this." You said before giving him a kiss that started out as affectionate but quickly turned hungry. "Suddenly, none of this food appeals to me."
“But you made all of it. It shouldn’t go to waste.” He nodded his head, and you could tell he had an idea. “It won’t go to waste, princess.”
You watched as he brought the bowl filled with mashed potatoes closer. It suddenly became clear to you what he was intending to do. “You’re going to eat the food off of me?"
August started to take your dress off your body, and you allowed him to. "Indeed, I am. After all, it's Thanksgiving. We must be grateful and eat until we put on ten pounds." He paused to give you a kiss on the inside of your thigh. "This is what I'm thankful for—this wonderful food. And above all, you."
As you bit your lip, you saw him apply mashed potatoes to both sides of your inner thighs before starting to eat them off of you. When you felt him sucking and twirling his tongue around, pleasure took over you.
Moans effortlessly left you as you grasped your breasts and pinched your nipples. He applied another sheer coat of mashed potatoes to your cunt, and you soon felt the feel of his tongue pressing against your clit. 
His formerly brilliant blue eyes were bursting with desire as you gazed down at him. His tongue lapsed and sucked until you were a wailing mess that was coming apart. “God, August.” 
He kissed his way up to your mouth. “Get undressed now,” you demanded of him. He tore his clothes off in a rush. And, thoughtlessly lifted you and placed you down on the table. August lifted the cranberry sauce and poured it over your breasts. When he began to suck and twirl his tongue over your nipples, groans fell from his lips.
“August, I need you inside me.”
His face held a wicked smile. “You want me inside of you, princess? Want to feel all of me?"
“Yes, please.” 
With rapidity, he lunged inside you, and your legs encircled his waist. His sac struck your ass with each push. As you bent in to give him a kiss, you noticed how his muscles strained with every thrust.
You encircled his neck firmly with your arms, and he enveloped his powerful arms beneath your thighs. When he pressed you against the wall and invaded you, you were able to feel him more deeply. With every push, his cock grazed your g-spot.
Your come covered his cock. “My good girl, covering me with her come.”
With your mouth hanging open and your eyes shut, you became mute as the pounding intensified. He gripped your face tightly. "Look at me; I must see that stunning face of yours as I come into you."
His body began to jerk as his seed filled you.
August's head rested on the bend of your neck while you both tried to breathe again. Once he was breathing normally again, he took a look at you and let out a little laugh. “What is it?” you questioned him.
"There's food in your hair," he said, moving your hair away from your face.
You chuckled hysterically and touched his face before speaking. "Happy Thanksgiving, baby."
"Honey, happy Thanksgiving." He kissed you several times over your face after giving you a quick peck on the lips.
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Taglist: @shellyshellshell @chloe92 @identity2212 @juliaorpll78 @armystay89
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starhrtz · 1 year
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— 001. ACTING FANTASY
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CHAPTER PREMISE — you didn’t expect to be dragged into a mess when you made friends with a certain red headed girl, a simple interview day somehow turned to a chaotic mess.
SERIES PREMISE — after a mysterious death, you find yourself being reborn as an actor's daughter. everything seems to be smooth-sailing in this life before you came across a strange star eyed boy during your junior year in high school. this strange yet fortune encounter leads to a spiral of love yet grief.
CONTAINS — 1.1k+ word count uhh nothinh else i think
A/N — oh em gee first chapter is finally released !!! AND YES I DID MAKE A LOT OF PJSK REFERENCES :')
series masterlist | next
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"grades aren't everything-"
Your parents' voice was zoned out as your eyes stared at your report book, your smile faltered as you noticed your grades have been going down and down. What was the point in trying if your grades would always stay so low no matter how much you tried? You were always convinced that you are just like your brother, smart and the best at everything so why does this sheet of paper differ from what you heard throughout your life? Why were you third in your class, you have always been at the top so why are you dropping all of a sudden? You still remembered clearly, the two classmates snickering and smirking at you proudly showing off their grades. They…don't deserve it, your teeth were gritted as you walked home.
Why was it them who were at the top? None of their work was as good as yours, their grammar and sentence structure needed work… right? Oh, how you hated their grins, you could tell by their faces that they knew you hated losing especially coming in third place but they also knew that you suspected them of using their parent's money to bribe the school. What kind of school is this? Letting people bribe the school staff just so they could be at the top? What a bunch of spoiled-
"Hinomori, are you alright?"
A voice snapped you out of your train of thought, you took a deep breath before looking over to your new friend and potential classmate. (name) hinomori was the new identity you yield after the incident, that grin that they had on their face… It reminded you of your classmates. You haven't told anyone about your reincarnation, your family not your group mates after all they'll most likely call you crazy or just laugh it off thinking it was a joke. Reincarnation… was a silly thing if you had to be honest, perhaps the fate you suffered from really was a cruel one? You plastered on a reassuring smile and looked at the red-haired girl.
"Mhm just slightly nervous about the interview that's all, but you do know you could call me by my first name.. Kana."
"Y-yeah, I know I'm just not used to it that's all! I am a big fan of your work too…"
Kana exclaimed while whispering the last part which you slightly laughed at before Kana was called to the interview room. Yota high school was one of the few schools which had a performing arts program, though it was only eligible to people affiliated with a company it did make you feel grateful you and your friends were scouted not long ago by SEKAI productions due to their recent project wanting groups with different personalities to make a debut under their name yet the company was far from sketchy. All the staff and idols were always welcoming to new debuts, even going as far as a small party.
You looked out the window as you waited your turn, it disappointed you that none of the other members of A✩𝖱𝖠 came to this school so sadly you were alone in this school… You sighed before hearing your name being called out by one of the interviewers, Kana gave you a confident smile and a thumbs up wishing you good luck. You smiled and gave her a quick wink as you walked into the performing arts room, you shouldn't show any signs of fear or hesitation that was one of the things your parents taught you whenever they made you go for auditions.
"I'm (name) Hinomori, affiliated with SEKAI Productions."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
As you walked out of the interview room, you breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps you should ask Airi to make the choreography a little easier later, though you knew you most likely aced the interview judging by the interviewer's faces alone. You sighed as you walked the empty hallways,though you were rather happy about being born into such a successful life it still sort of upsets you when you had to attend high school again after all your senior year was where your grades started going downhill…
“WHAT THE HECK!!?!”
Kana’s shrieking could be heard from further down the hall way. Yet when you reached there you saw Kana along with two other people who you don’t reconsider, but judging by Kana’s face they might be her friends..?
“I’LL BULLY YOU, I REALLY WIL-“
“Kana, there you are!”
You exclaimed walking up to the trio, while the blonde boy seemed to be confused on who you are yet the girl who you assumed to be his sister seems to be starstrucked? Their eyes… were pretty. That was the first thing that came to your mind as you got a better view of how they look, you snapped out of your thoughts before looking back at Kana.
“I didn’t want to be the crying girl’s junior but if it means that Hinomori could be my senior, I’ll gladly endure her whining!”
“Hey I got ears, ya’know!”
You muffled a giggle as you watched the two argue, was the brother too used to this type of situation? It looked like the two weren’t going to stop arguing anytime soon, you sighed and looked at the blonde boy who seemed rather deep in thought.
“Wait, have you worked with Gotanda Taishi before? I think I saw you once in his films…”
You looked up with them and nervously smiled, even when your parents were actors somehow… it didn’t suit right you or perhaps it made you slightly cringed whenever you watched clips of yourself acting though it was most likely the latter if you had to be honest, yet even when you told your parents about your decision to quit acting they weren’t upset. Sure, in their eyes there was disappointment but it held approval as well perhaps because you made your own choice of career paths at a young age?
“I haven’t heard that name in a while… but yeah I did. Why’d you ask?”
He shrugged his shoulders, after all what was he meant to say? That the director, his boss, used one of your quotes that you had said on tv once to try and motivate him? Of course not, scaring you wasn’t his goal and he was pretty sure Ruby might kill him if he tries and scare you away from them.
“Well, see ya, I’m heading over to the director’s place.”
Somehow, you felt it was directed to you yet it caught Kana’s attention, immediately breaking away from her and Ruby’s petty fight though could it really be considered a fight? “Wait where do you think your going!” Kana shouted running after Aqua, taking your hand and following him. Oh god, what have you dragged yourself into now?
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please do reblog or comment if you like this!! It rlly makes me motivated to see positive comments or reblogs w tags!!
➜ TAGLIST: @aranachan @cerisearan @miyakoa @yevene @atomi-mi @bajifairyy @itonashi @lxry-chxn @rymtea @kult-o
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hdrygdhbuu · 2 months
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Hello, I’ve read a few small stories from Dir en grey’s meet&greet and experience from the concerts in general aaannddd I also decided to share mine from m&g 19.03 in Warsaw… Maybe just mainly for archival purposes, but anyway… it was quite interesting.
Since It was my very first concert in my whole life (but what is most important Dir en grey concert😭) and I was sosososo hella nervous – on top of all I came completely alone into the dark unknown! The first show of my favourite band. The first meet&greet with precious and talented band members on their first tour destination. I thought I could have died before start of the show.
Beforehand I’ve read some different experiences from m&g – there were really a few, really – it was said that people with VIP queued in front of the venue doors and were entering one by another to meet the members(¿). (Actually I have no clue, because I didn’t happen to enter among all the people… You’re allowed to read to know then lol) When I had come on the floor I saw two queues actually. One to the m&g and another to the merch booth. But as I said, It was my first life experience so I immediately got super confused and didn’t know where to go… Two long queues, a lot of people, I couldn’t understand which one is which… Anyway I stayed at the end of the merch queue (😭) and managed to buy some things almost THE LAST ONE. I mean, there still was a couple of girls near the stand, but… the cashier was very nice, (he let me pull out of the bag some secret postcard&stickers on my own lol) when he said «there is a meeting with a band, so you should hurry» and pointed at the entrance doors. I looked and realised there was no one around, like, really, empty corridor… Obviously I got scared (even more scared than I’ve been all this day) and rushed there immediately, almost running – actually it was just “fast-walking”. I didn’t know the place, what is where, and at that moment I didn’t even know where is the venue and where I entered… I jumped up to the venue with dizzy head, completely at a loss, greatly confused (I’m sorry, but that cashier really made me worry and hurry with those words😭) and first I couldn’t even recognize the place. All happened so suddenly: I saw them. But the first gaze was so quick, really, I only managed to catch the smiley glance from Toshiya first! Probably all of them were so confused of the chaotic way I entered 😭 (I even thought Toshiya was internally laughing at me, but i guess I was simply delusional.) The staff stopped me with "wait" or something, and – oh what a shame… – at that exact moment I suddenly/quickly turned around at my speed (but it wasn’t so fast fr) and stepped back as almost i was about to leave at every moment 😰 There were no fans nearby… before or after me… and we just stayed like that, so so embarrassing… Me, being afraid even just of looking at them, because I knew, I felt they were staring at me… Maybe i got affected by this “wait” from the staff and actually lost all remains of courage, waiting, waiting for the right signal😭 I met eyes with that woman from the staff, she was staring at me and i was looking at her like “what should i do, when am i allowed to step forward😰” Jeez i really felt so many eyes on me, as it was a long moment and i got lost…
But when i raised my sight, i couldn’t bear but just notice Toshiya’s smile 😭 (him being that tall after all) You know, it was just impossible not to catch it. He was staring so brightly, with the kindest and the most loving smile on his face😭 This smile could physically warm a body and hearts, full of gratefulness, love and respect. Since I’m quite young (i’m 20 actually… but the fact that I admit that I look much younger) for a moment i realised – i’m sure – it was a smile of a loving parent/senpai looking at the child/kohai 😭 Just… can’t describe this wholesome feeling, that he created inside of me with this looking&smile. He didn’t cut off his glance even when we actually met our eyes… i mean, i immediately got shyshyshyshy, i couldn’t withstand it and looked away😭 it was just too much😭🤚🏻
Then i noticed Kaoru looking straight and handing his postcard to me, encouraging me to come closer, and so that was the sign when i managed to finally move my trembling body. (The possibility that they might have been waiting for me just flutters all my insides and kills me!) So, then.. everything happened quite quickly, i was collapsed by shock, embarrassment and happiness at the same time, to the point I almost teared up. I bowed at each of them, saying quietly arigatogozaimassss as they were handing me signed postcards. I couldn’t even make myself to raise my head and look at them… Toshiya was the last one in a row, and when i stood in front of him the actual height difference hit me and got me on knees (and that’s the second reason i couldn’t get myself to look up – it would be physically uncomfortable lol i guess) I mean… this man is really tall, I faced his chest at the level of my nose for real, so yeah (I’m 160cm). He was the one who thanked me in response – well, maybe i was just too dumb and rushed too much idk – and that was so cute of him! Really, he seemed to be the nicest at the m&g, he really does care about fans, he really is glad and happy to meet fans😭 and he obviously showed his appreciation of all its power/extent. The one meeting broke my heart.
Of course after this i rushed to the rest of people near the stage (luckily i was in a second row right before Toshiya!) And then they left the place almost right away… I mean, after all maybe i really was the last one??? And what if they were waiting for me?? (It kills me ugh) Idk… I was sure there were some more girls at the merch booth before….
Anyway, talking about my very first show impression, i was sincerely amazed by this little pleasing discovery of my own – all of them actually were looking at fans during the show! Like straight in the eyes. Catching our glances. Sustaining this eye contact again and again. It felt like a dream, it felt like we and them actually connected on some kind of inner basis/level… I’m sure I even crossed some glances with Toshiya and Kaoru 😭 I didn’t expect it so, again, i felt kinda embarrassed, but super crazy! That was so much fun! Really, I will never forget those nights… And now, every time reminding it – all of them, the performance, their movements and emotions, that charming smile of Toshiya – I can’t help but melt into a divine smile…
Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart💔 And thank you too who has read this unexpectedly long message 😭🤲🏻 And sorry for any mistakes..
P.S. I also wouldn’t mind if anyone who has read it, would like to share their experience too🤲🏻 Really, just kinda curious… and after all i don’t have friends who i can talk about diru with sooooooo feel free to share🙌🏻🌷
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strawmaerry · 9 months
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18 | g. satoru
you’re grateful for megumi’s and tsumiki’s existence. really. they brought nothing but joy to your already chaotic life. they may not know it but they are one of the people who bring smile to your face.
but sometimes, when you’re alone in the dark and contemplate about life; you can’t help but think if it’s worth it to have them in your home.
you and satoru are only eighteen and already suffering. the two of you are barely teenagers when you are thrusted to the world of danger. everywhere you go, curses follow.
at night, when you already deem your classmates sleeping; you cry, and cry, and cry. because that’s the only thing you can do. you can’t back out from this obligation. there is no way out.
is this worth it? did i choose the right choice? why does this job have more deaths than lives?
“i am not ready to become a guardian,” you had told satoru when he asked you what’s wrong. when you gave the children the wrong cuisine, “i can’t even take care of myself. how can i take care of them?”
he hugged you as tight as possible. he kissed your doubts with assurances. “don’t worry about it, [name],” he had said, “i’ll be with you every step of the way.”
then you realize there and then that if satoru can endure it, why can’t you? you want to be by satoru’s side every step of the way. you sacrificed your childhood for the society, you wouldn’t let other children lay down their life that young. you’re not selfish.
so you helped satoru guide the tsumiki and megumi. children helping children. and it’s sad, to see barely surviving teenagers take care of the abandoned.
“baby, are you crying?” you jump in shock when you hear your boyfriend’s voice. you don’t feel the tears running down to your cheeks.
you touch your cheeks. “oh. no, i am okay, satoru. ‘m just remembering something.”
he sits his place by your side and wipe the tears for you. “what memory is that so i can erase it for you?”
you giggle and slap his arms. “shut up!” you inhale a deep sigh and smile. “‘m just… grateful that i met you.”
satoru grins and it’s the most beautiful smile ever. you don’t want him to lose that precious feeling. “aw, baby! i, too, am very very thankful to have you in my life.”
he squishes your tears-stained cheeks. “especially when you never leave my side when i decided to take guardianship over megumi.”
you smile and intertwine your fingers together. you look at them and it fits perfectly. like a missing puzzle piece finally found the one who completes it. “just you and me, right?”
he stares at you, eternally in love. “always and forever.”
“plus megumi and tsumiki.”
“what?! i thought it will be just us in that motto?!”
you can overcome everything as long as you two are together.
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useless-catalanfacts · 2 months
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No question. Just rant. I love your page. And sorry for chaotic story time vibes, but I don't think I'd realised how crazy this anti-catalan thing really is until I travelled to southern Spain. My Spanish is not great, but I took a course in Catalan in high school (long story on why this was available in my city but it also included a human tower party at the end and it was brilliant even tho I almost died) so when talking to people I casually threw in some Catalan words to help my Spanish. I am Norwegian, and I thought it was kind of like... as if someone was trying to speak Norwegian but casually threw in some Swedish to fill in the gaps. Like we would totally have joked about it, but overall we would just be grateful they really made an effort to be understood. But no. IT WAS NOT THE CASE. My host was literally offended. Like offended offended. I didn't really get it, because it's not like the Catalans have oppressed him and I'm coming here speaking the tongue of the oppressor (its kinda the opposite). But no. My host acted if I was the most ignorant person ever. He basically sat me down and explained that I have to show respect and speak castillian (or english, which was apparently fine, even if he understood about 1% of it), and then I asked if he would speak Catalan if he visited Barcelona and he said he would never visit Barcelona because he didn't like the people there. And then I said that if you hate them so much, why not throw them out of the country, get rid of them, and let them have their own state? It sounds like a win-win. And he looked as if he was gonna hit me.
Ah 😬
I wish things like this surprised me, but I have family from Andalucía and Extremadura and have friends who also have family from Andalucía, and so I've heard this and worse... It also reminded me of a few weeks ago when there was a scandal because a train in Málaga (in Andalucía, southern Spain) gave the announcements in Catalan instead of Spanish (turns out the train had been programmed in Catalonia during the COVID-19 restrictions and later moved to the Málaga train system, but for some mistake this day it was showing COVID-19 precaution in Catalan from 2020 now in 2024). It was such a scandal that it was on the news and politicians were making such a big deal of it, the PP (the most voted party in Málaga and of all Andalucía) also said it was "offensive" and that Malagans were being "laughed at" by the trains. Other errors in public transport that actually mean people can't travel in time don't get reported as much as when one train's screens tell you in Catalan to wear your facemask. 🤷
The last part of what you say, absolutely right. I never understood it either: if they really don't like us, then shouldn't they also be interested in not having anything to do with us? Why not just kick us out? I never really understood it until some years ago when I heard the words of a right-wing Spanish journalist (I think was Federico Jiménez Losantos?) who said something along the lines of "if Catalans want to leave, then leave. But Catalonia is ours." Meaning that Catalan people, individually, we can leave and migrate abroad. But the land is a possession of Spain, our homeland is their property. I think that sums up that view. It's not about being annoyed at having to share a state with a culture you despise, it's about wanting to keep domination.
I'm sorry you had this experience. Your effort to communicate should have been valued, and pulling the words you know from a language from the same linguistic family was a good idea that would have worked great, they wouldn't have found it offensive if the language you knew instead of Catalan was Italian, Portuguese, etc. Thank you very much for sharing your experience, and I hope you could enjoy the rest of your trip (Southern Spain, outside of situations like this, is a beautiful place), and I'm very glad to hear you enjoyed the castells party (and didn't die in it)!
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teriri-sayes · 2 months
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Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 278 and 6th Anniversary
Brief summary: Epley confirms she attacked CJG. CH and CJS are very angry. Cale also gets angry after seeing Maren's wings attached to elderly mage's back. Eru beats up Ryan.
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Today marks the 6th anniversary of LCF/TCF! 🎉 On April 9, 2018, the Prologue and 1st chapter of TCF part 1 were published on Munpia. To commemorate this day, the author released Chapter 278 early even though this was outside her chapter release schedule of MWF. She added her greetings at the end of the chapter.
Author's Note Greetings, this is Yoo Ryeo Han. Today marks the 6th anniversary of the serialization of "I Became the Trash of the Count's Family". So I would like to send you this greeting along with some words. It's already been 6 years…! There's still a long way to go…! Even though I feel like that, As always, I once again feel grateful and am resolved to write diligently. Every spring, I sometimes think of the moment I first began writing this series. I really don't think I'll ever forget that excitement and thrill. Thank you always for being with us. In the future, we will do our best to serve you with our best writing. -Yoo Ryeo Han P.S. Today again, I plan to eat meat to celebrate. Hahahaha!
Congratulations to the author for reaching 6 years! Here's hoping that there won't be a 7th year... but with all the recent reveals, I kinda doubt that. 🥲
But wow... it's been that long? I started reading this series around summer of 2019 and began buying chapter raws on RIDI around October of 2019. So I've been suffering from reading MTL for 5 years, hahaha 🤣🤣🤣
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Today could be summarized with one word: Angry. Cale's group were all angry. CJS confirmed Epley's a God of Chaos believer because of the pattern on her neck. And then she also confirmed that she fought CJG... which infuriated both CH and CJS who expressed their anger through "gentle" smiles and laughter.
God of Chaos liked chaotic things like mutations, variations, and hybrids, so his followers valued chimeras. The elderly mage that Cale's group had been searching was a chimera. He was a human, but on his back were... small dragon wings. Yes, it was Maren's wings.😡
Thus, Cale was really furious at the hunters. Fire AP too because of all the black liquid in the place, which he described to be 5x worse than Black Despair.
Ending Remarks So much anger today. Fortunately, Eru beat up Ryan that his face was swollen. Ryan falling down to the black liquid meant that this was not the end though. Next chapter would be Cale's response to finally getting the corrupted divine item.
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salty-croissants · 4 months
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IK YOU'RE REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, BUT PLEASE I BEG OF YOU, NEW YEAR'S KISS. RAYMAN, RAMON, BULLFROG PLESSEEEEE
Thank you for the request ! Sorry it took so long -
I had the idea of doing this prompt right here for the New Year but ended up getting busy with other things and couldn’t do it in time , so I’m very happy I get to write for it now :D 
Hope it turned out okay ! 
Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 
established relationships ; 
no warnings needed 
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Bullfrog 💚
< Can you believe it … ? A whole year just went by , don’t you feel like it didn’t last long enough ? > 
< Oui … 
Though time does tend to fly by a lot faster whenever I’m with you , mon amour ~ > 
You couldn’t help but smile in front of Bullfrog’s comment , wrapping one arm around him as the two of you sat on the rooftop , waiting for the fireworks to sign the end of that very chaotic , very crazy year :
so much had happened , you had made so many memories fighting with the Ghosts … both good and bad … but all of them with your beloved frog by your side .
You laughed together … you suffered together … you fought against so many dangers and deadly times , and yet the bond between you never faltered . 
You sighed , lost in your thoughts for some time , before Bullfrog excitedly pointed up … 
< y/n , look ! > 
And there they were : 
colorful fireworks filled the night sky , some of them big enough to cover the entire city in a sudden , bright burst …
As much as you hated Eden , you had to admit that they had prepared quite a spectacle .
< Wow … ! 
I gotta say , they really do look beautiful ! > 
< Mhm … c'est vrai ~ > 
You turned around to look at your boyfriend , only to find him staring at you with those adoring eyes you loved so much …
< Pfft - I meant the fireworks , not me ! ~ > 
< Heh , well I still stand by what I said : you have such lovely eyes , they shine way brighter than the fireworks tonight ~ > 
Bullfrog had a smug smile on his face , as always more than happy to see you blush in front of his compliments , but before he could add anything more you suddenly leaned forward to meet his lips with yours for an unexpected , loving kiss .
< … happy New Year , Bullfrog ~ > 
, you quietly whispered to him while pulling away to catch your breath .
The assassin stared back at you in awe , holding your face with both of his hands as the lights from above illuminated you both …
< Happy New Year … je t'aime tellement y/n , and I will love you always ~ > 
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Rayman 🧡
< Woah - Ray , did you see that one ? 
It looked so cool ! > 
Rayman’s reaction to your adorable enthusiasm was a soft chuckle , the fireworks shining outside the windows of his lounge …
Since it was located at the very top of the Rayman Estate , you both agreed that it was going to be a nice spot to observe the sky and get a good view of the New Year’s celebration , and it had definitely been a good choice . 
You sighed , looking down at him with a smile while placing your hand on top of his …
< I’m so happy we get to watch this together , you know … ? 
Being able to spend time with you is always amazing ~ > 
You could see a faint blush appear on your boyfriend’s face , his free hand traveling up to tenderly caress your cheek .
< y/n , I … 
Heh , I honestly can’t even begin to describe just how grateful I am to be here with you . You’ve really changed my life my love , for the better .
I couldn’t ask for a better partner . > 
You leaned into his touch , and before you could even think of a response Rayman’s lips had already met yours , the colorful lights shining outside the only spectators to that sweet little moment of intimacy …
You were the only one who had never once judged him for who he was … the only one who had been by his side even in his worst moments , and to Rayman ? 
It meant absolutely everything . 
It didn’t matter if there were people out there who still saw him as a freakish monster despite of his fame , or if the Board of Directors overworked him almost constantly :
as long as he knew you would be there , he would be able to push through it all .
< I love you … I can’t wait to make more wonderful memories with you this year , my beautiful darling ~ > 
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Ramon 🖤
While your view of the New Year’s fireworks wasn’t exactly the best , given that you and Ramon couldn’t exactly go outside freely with Eden’s watchful eyes patrolling every corner of the city , that didn’t stop you from enjoying it …
< Oh - I think one flew by pretty close to the window ! 
Man , they’re really giving their all tonight … > 
< Mhm … > 
You turned to look at your boyfriend , who was sitting on the living room couch with a … less than festive expression , and your gaze softened .
< Are you still feeling bad because I can’t watch the fireworks tonight to stay with you ? > 
He didn’t respond … he just released a long sigh while avoiding your eyes . 
< It’s … not just that , y/n . You know that . 
I hate the fact that you’re missing the chance to have a normal , happier life for … this . > 
He pointed at himself . 
< I just - you don’t deserve to suffer because of me , because of what I decided to do … it’s not fair , and I hate it . > 
While he was talking , Ramon didn’t even notice that you had approached him , sitting next to him before immediately locking him in a tight embrace …
You could feel his body momentarily tense under your touch , before slowly becoming more relaxed the more you held him .
< Ram , sweetie …
If I’m here right now it’s because I’m making the choice to stay , and trust me when I say that there hasn’t been a single time in which I’ve regretted it . > 
He slowly lifted his head to look up at you , each and every one of your sweet and caring words making their way into his heart …
He knew that you really meant what you were saying , and that was enough to make those worries he had go away , at least for a moment .
< I promise you this : this new year is going to go well for the both of us , I’ll make sure of th - >
Your sentence stopped the second you felt Ramon’s lips on yours , and as you kissed him back you felt as if the booms of the fireworks outside were becoming more and more distant …
He had you , and you had him , and that was all that really mattered in the end : 
no matter how hard they were going to try , Eden would never be able to make your endless love for your boyfriend go away . 
< Thanks , y/n … god , I really don’t know where I’d be without you …
Oh , and happy New Year my love ~ > 
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smrsxx · 10 months
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Based on this request . . .
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Title : Chaotic
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Pair : bayverse!optimus adoptive dad x human!gn reader
Summary : You and Optimus are going for a ride and you just can't stop thinking about how you ended up in this situation.
Tw : actually none , just pure fluff.
English isn't my first language so if you spot any mistakes just bare with me.
Ps. I finally published this after a week l and I'm so sorry that I was late. I hope you liked it. I personally loved it. I'm going to be out of town ( I don't know for how long ) because of some family issues. I will try to work on a new series that I was requested too.
I really tried. I hope it's good.
_______________________________________________________
He is so done with you.
He actually can not understand how you are so much energetic.
One minute you are quiet and peaceful -
and the all of a sudden you are going crazy and started doing all kinds of stuff.
At first you decided to clean the whole entire base , including the Transformers themselves.
That is how Optimus found himself - in this type of situation.
He is sitting on top of his berthroom , looking at you while your cleaning literally everything.
He looks at you and decides to give it another chance. " Are you certain that you do not need any help ? "
"Thanks again but no. I think I'm gonna go clean Ratchet's room again. " You say to him , but more to yourself.
To save you from trouble Optimus decided that the best option is to take you away from the base - maybe for ride.
Just to calm you down.
_____
This is how you found yourself sitting in his cabin at his alt - form driving in the night.
A podcast you both love is playing softly in the background.
You are in your peaceful state right now.
And you both knew why.
" it's quiet. I like it. " You said to Optimus , your head resting on his left window.
" How so ? " He asked you making you both laugh at his obvious joke about your personality.
" it's not funny. " You answered smiling.
When you reached your secret place , where Optimus could change into his real form , you both went quiet.
After a couple of minutes you broke the silence.
_____
" Do you remember the first time we met ? Wait - that was a stupid question - you remember everything. Anyways - back to what I was saying . . . I wanted you to know that I am so grateful that I was there that night. If I had said no to Sam to go out for a ride with Bee I wouldn't have met you. And do you remember when we first started to form our relationship? You are just like a father to me and I know it sounds strange , because your this - . . . You're just special you know ? " You said to him , trying to hold your smile back.
You didn't know if he was comfortable with that , but you really admired him and loved him as a father and you couldn't think about your life without him.
His silence made your stomach turn.
'I freaked him out. I fucked up. ' You thought to yourself.
"If you think that my silence after your confession is a bad thing , do not because it is not. I am grateful that you gathered the courage and tell me that you are happy that you've met me. Trust me all Autobots do. Even Ironhide - even though he doesn't show it much. But me ? Especially me ? I am extremely happy that you are inspired by me. You are a wonderful human being and we've learned so much from you. I'm proud to be considered your friend but I'm even more proud to consider you my daughter. " He answered making tears form in your eyes.
_____
You both remembered the moment. Hearts and sparks filled with love.
You loved your dad - even if he was a big , giant , tall machine.
Your dad loved you - even if you were a small but fierce human.
You knew everything about each other.
You told each other everything.
You were father and daughter.
You had an amazing bond.
" I love you dad. Even if your extremely bossy sometimes. " You said to him smiling.
"Well I have to be , considering that I have to deal with bots and humans like you. " He answered making you gasp and laugh.
"But I love you too. " He finally said to you.
You loved your dad and your dad loved you.
__________
Until next time . . . Enjoy summer : ]
@unimportantbabymilksharkte
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wzrd-wheezes · 3 months
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Sirius Black taking you back to his dorm after you got really drunk at the club, helping you into bed, but he almost forgets one important thing. He helps you take your makeup off.
AN - sorry that this took me a little while to get around to. I haven't written anything for Sirius for a little while so I'm a bit rusty. I hope you enjoy <3
Sirius fought as he tried to usher Y/N up the staircase, his destination - a mere stones throw away, seemed impossibly distant. Y/N’s flailing limbs and erratic movements made the task increasingly more difficult. He steadied her with one hand gently against the small of her back, determined to stop her from tumbling back down the stairs.  
As they finally reached the top, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that they had made it without any mishaps. He plonked Y/N down on his bed and she sat looking up at him with a lopsided grin.  
“What am I going to do with you, eh?” Sirius asked, smiling at her.  
“We’re in your room.” she stated, looking around, eyes wide.  
“Well observed. Pissed out of your mind but still as sharp as ever.” he laughed.  
“Your room is pretty.” her gaze drifted to the posters on his wall and the lights that twinkled lowly. It was so stereotypically Sirius; an amalgamation of all of his interests, chaotically thrown together but still looking perfect. “How come we’re here? Did I lose my keys again?”  
Sirius shook his head and chuckled, sitting down next to her on the bed as she frantically looked through her bag.  
“No, you didn’t lose your keys again. I just didn’t fancy you going home on your own when you’re like this. Besides, my place is closer to town.” he explained. “Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” 
“When I’m like what?” She looked at him with an accusatory expression.  
“Drunk. Now, drink that water or else your head will be pounding in the morning.” Sirius said sternly. 
Y/N rolled her eyes at him, her movements a bit unsteady as she reached for the glass of water Sirius had placed on his bedside table. With a sloppy grin, she chugged down the water, spilling a few drops in the process. Sirius rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a t-shirt and offering it to her. She blinked at him with a puzzled look on her face. 
“For you to sleep in.” he smiled, “Don’t want you wrecking your dress.” 
“You’re so kind. Looking after me like this.” She beamed up at him, her eyes glassy and smile lopsided.  
“Just trying to be a good host,” he smirked, helping her steady herself as she slipped on his t-shirt and wriggled out of her dress.  
“Well, you’re succeeding.” she declared, her words punctuated by a hiccup. With a gentle laugh, Sirius guided her back into his bed and tucked the covers around her.  
He had barely made it to the door when he paused, a sudden realisation hitting him. With a soft curse under his breath, he turned on his heel and doubled back on himself. 
“Back so soon?” Y/N grinned. 
“Forgot something important. Can’t let you sleep with your makeup on.”  
He perched on the bed, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle of makeup remover. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as he slowly wiped away the smudged mascara under her eyes. 
“I’m so happy.” murmured, smile still plastered on her face. 
“Enjoy it while it lasts. I can’t imagine tomorrow's hangover will be as pleasant,” Sirius chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face before heading over to switch the lights off, “G’night, love. Give me a shout if you wake up and need anything.”  
Y/N didn’t reply. She had already drifted off to sleep. 
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I think that the switch from reddit to tumblr is particularly difficult for me so far, and i know it's just been a few days, but i wonder if other people are having these issues as well, so i thought it might be a decent idea to write out my thoughts here.
-first off, i was a lurker almost exclusively on reddit. Much more introverted, and i only spoke about things i knew or if i knew id get karma for it (being a person with RSD, i kind of hated downvotes, regardless if they were just "useless internet points" or not).
-tumblr requires you to be more interactive and speak out more with its etiquette, by reblogging and so forth (ive read in a few places that comments sections werent used much before the refugees invaded tumblr, which i think seems like a cool positive)
-while there arent any downvotes, i still feel anxious to talk/put myself out there. Am i reblogging right? Are my tags funny? Is my blog a big uninteresting mess?
This isnt a problem with the site itself, but with me obviously. But we are talking about my difficulty here, so it still needs to be said.
-the communities arent built in here like they were with reddit, so you sort of have to find it, and the regular posters who have the kind of quality content you want. This is pretty cool, but vastly different from reddit and im having a tough time getting used to it.
-there's definitely a few people i missed from the reddit communities i was in, and i wish i knew if they were here or not. (Talking about you, u/nepalman230)
All this being said, holy hell, its wild. Im putting my thoughts out here right now, and while it does feel....uncomfy, i think its more because im not used to it. It feels more like shouting out to the void. Maybe itll talk back. Who knows?
But i think this site is very neat, and i love love LOVE how much more inclusive tumblr is. Im straight and a cis male, but there were a lot of toxic communities that would just not let people be who they say they are, and im so glad that all my LGBTQ+ friends have a more inclusive place like this, and that so many have migrated over here. I wish i wouldve come here sooner.
Im also very grateful to all you veteran tumblr users putting in the effort to help us out. Youve put so much out here for us, to help us better understand how to navigate these new waters, and honestly? I'd have been really screwed without the help ive received, because tumblr is really kinda chaotic.
Its good to be here, and i'm hoping i can get over all my dysfunctions and really enjoy this space you've shared with us.
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months
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Hi 👋
Since you said it's ok to reach out, please don't mind me dumping my thoughts on the cancellation news :
OFMD and it's fandom, even though I'm very much a lurker, is so important to me. The last few years have been really chaotic and not in a good way. My life has turned out very different from what I've imagined and I've had to give up many of the things that brought me joy.
The doses of serotonin I got from OFMD and its fandom, even by just scrolling tumblr a few mins, made all the difference to keep me going. Now I'm sad and a bit fearful that life is going to be that little bit harder, and that I've lost something to look forwards to.
I'm sad for the cast and crew and the fandom too. And depressed thinking about the future of art. I have a hard time imagining a positive future, both on a global and personal level, and I fear corporate bullshit is ruining human creativity and storytelling.
I am grateful though to cast, crew and fandom. We really got something so special with OFMD. I feel a bit guilty for not having the time and energy to contribute much, and I was hoping that if season 3 had happened, I would by then have had more to give.
Thanks for everything you do for the fandom 💕
Hi friend! Ooo I love your icon btw. Yes please! My dms and asks are always open (sometimes I'm a bit late getting back to them because of time differences and crazy work situations but I do try to get back to you within 24 hrs, especially now!)
Can I just say, I really appreciate you sharing this with me and the crew? I know it's really hard to talk about these kinds of things, especially when you're already feeling upset, and I am so honored you felt safe enough to share it.
First, and foremost, I totally get that guilty feeling, like you didn't have time to do enough. But you know what? You did plenty. You were here lurking, and participating in the background. Not all of us have enough spoons to do crazy things every day to support our show, and that is 100% okay. The fact that you kept yourself going is exactly what needed to happen, and I'm so glad you found some solace in the OFMD fandom. The most important thing is you are here with us, and you're getting something good out of this wonderful community.
The situation seems dire right now, I know. It's so hard because it feels like "Well maybe if we just did x more" it would be enough, but the hard truth of it is, it wouldn't. You are right, the corporate greed out there is ruining human creativity and storytelling. However-- I think this is a wonderful opportunity for us to keep fighting the good fight for exactly those things.
Every piece of art... or fic... or cosplay, or drink or any creation really, inspired by the show has the power to fuel creativity in others. We are creative creatures, and I know I, like you, had given up for a long time many of the things that brought me joy. This community, this fandom, this show, is fueled by creativity, and love and joy and inclusivity, and that is a beautiful thing, and that is certainly not gone. Even if we don't get an s3 now or ever-- that spark, that inspiration is still there in all of us. They can't take away the way that show made us feel.
You feelings on worrying life is going to be a bit worse are absolutely valid hon. I spent all yesterday afternoon crying my damn eyes out because I felt like I finally had something I could continue to support and fight for, and that I may have had some semblance of control over and it was taken away. Your grief and fear are so damn valid. I'm also feeling very strongly about "I have a hard time imagining a positive future, both on a global and personal level". I'm lucky to be a part of a community where when I expressed those same concerns people gave me some great ways to help cope and put my energy into. @celluloidbroomcloset passed on this nugget: "So I've got friends who are, like, Activists with a capital A, and from what they've said a good place to direct efforts when you feel helpless is at local levels. Can be politics, homeless advocacy, queer orgs, environmental, etc. or other orgs within your area, etc. Because a lot of change can happen more easily at the local level and you can engage with people more readily in those spaces and make a difference. It breaks down the bigger issues into something more manageable with real, visible outcomes." Please know friend, you're not alone in these fears, we're all feeling them right now, and I'm really happy you felt like you could reach out and talk about them. If you wanna talk more please feel free to DM me. Thank you for all your kind words to the community and the cast & crew too, I know they need it just as much as we do at the moment. You are a super human <3 Take care and get some rest, and when you feel up for it, please come back to us and keep loving the things in this fandom :) We're all still here.
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copperbadge · 1 year
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Fuck, I’m glad to be home. 
I will say, yesterday’s travel went as smoothly as it possibly could. Austin-Bergstrom Airport was pretty quiet once you got through security, and I’m both an A-List passenger and a Pre-Check passenger, so it took me about a tenth of the time it otherwise would have. 
I dislike spending time in ABIA because there’s not much to do and the food has traditionally been terrible. But a Shake Shack style burger stand just opened there and it’s really good -- up top is the “kids meal”, a quarter pound burger and wedge fries, which ran me seven bucks. I normally don’t like wedge fries but I gotta give them credit, these were gorgeous -- crisp on the outside, soft and fluffy like mashed potatoes on the inside. If you’re in ABIA and want a decent meal, Thurman’s by gate 20 is by far your best bet. 
Midway Airport in Chicago was chaotic but not the nightmare I expected. There were a lot of people sleeping on floors, and you can see the photo I took of part of the baggage claim -- three full claims were roped off and filled with suitcases. Mine came up in the carousel within half an hour, which is longer than Southwest usually takes but still well within tolerance limits. 
And my babies were so happy to see me. Dearborn even slept all night on the bed which she very rarely does. Poor Polkadot couldn’t believe it was me and had to inspect me thoroughly several times, yelling all the while. 
I am so incredibly lucky -- I caught the initial cancellation before I got into the airport, I had a place to stay that night, I was able to rebook for the following day at 10pm and then re-rebook for yesterday at 6pm, and an hour after I re-rebooked, the 10pm was cancelled. The 6pm was the only direct flight that got out of Austin to Chicago yesterday. Some of it was good contingency planning on my part but a lot of it was just...blind goddamn luck, and I’m so grateful.  
[ID: Three images; top image is a paper tray with a hamburger and seasoned wedge fries on it, the burger bun scorched on top, the fries red with paprika and cayenne. Second image shows the edge of a baggage claim area, with a visible cordon in front and bags as far as the eye can see. Third image is Dearborn the tortie and Polk the tabby, both lying on my duvet (which is covering me), Polk gazing dramatically into the distance while Dearborn looks directly at the camera.]
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ninjigma · 1 year
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QuinFox Week Part 7/7 - First / Previous
Day 7: Back to Back + Fix It Track: 'All The Right Moves' - OneRepublic (Spotify / YouTube)
“When you asked me to help those troopers disappear I didn’t think it would lead us here Foxie.”
“Like you haven’t taken us to worse places on less information.”
“Hey, I just know how to show someone a good time.”
“Maybe if I was a parasite of some sort living in these drains,” Fox scoffed. 
The two were bickering as they moved, using it to ease the tension. Fox had been stressed for weeks handling this alone, and it had come to a head when Quinlan finally broke and confronted Fox, reminding him that they had agreed to no more life-threatening risks without the other right alongside them. They were to stay side by side, back to back. Putting space between them only left them both more vulnerable.
And so today Fox had shown him, taken him to a run-down apartment attached to a much nicer music studio, and explained it all. 
This led the duo to some new conclusions, as Vos’s information suddenly had a lot more pieces of the puzzle to snap together. Some realizations that they needed to act now, as soon as they could.
But for now, they bickered, because discussing how to take down a Sith lord running the entire government when you were a single clone commander and a Jedi not even well trusted by his own peers was a thought that needed a breath. Just some time floating around them in the storm drains they flitted through.
“You are a parasite, one I quite enjoy having around.”
Fox shook his head. “Only you could say something like that and think it is positive.”
“Oh?” Quinlan’s smirk was damned near audible. “Is that because I’m such a sweet romantic?”
“Quinlan Vos,” Fox slowed and turned, headlamp lighting up bright tattoos and twinkling eyes. How he could be so happy still, after everything they’d been through and all they still had to face, Fox didn’t know. But he was grateful for it. “You are an utter sappy romantic with a death wish, a brain cell for taste, and a drop of luck. Sweet is much too docile for how you love, and of everyone, I think I am very qualified to say as much.”
Quinlan’s smile grew wider. Even in the midst of everything, he always offered Fox a smile. And now, almost a year after offering a lot more than just that, he reached forward and took Fox’s hand as well.
“When it comes to me, I think you are definitely a leading expert.”
Fox had a retort, soft in its meaning but sure in its stressed humor, but it was cut short as keen ears picked up other footsteps. Because of course nothing would be simple. Even just walking through drain pipes was going to end as chaotically as they always did for them. 
Hunched down and still holding hands, Fox peeked around the corner in the junction. And immediately groaned.
“Remember that gang you’ve been pissing off digging into the Black Sun?”
He could hear Quinlan swear quietly. Because of course that slip-up the other day had the lower Coruscant gangs on the alert for them. There had been no way to avoid it, having to take more risks as so much of Quinlan’s trails had gone dry recently, but it left a little too much information on them out in the light for the Jedi shadow’s liking. 
“Fox, you know we’re going to have to-”
“We stay together as long as possible,” Fox cut him off. He wasn’t looking at Quinlan, but there was no immediate protest. It was a general agreeance anyhow, but Fox knew exactly where Quinlan was really going with all of this. 
“We have to reach the surface as fast as possible, and you know it is smarter for me to head to the senate-”
“Quinlan, I know!”
More voices, coming from different points around them now. They were moving as quietly as possible, talking in rushed whispers; but Fox’s voice grew a bit colder, angry in how Quinlan reminded him of how there was nothing different he could do. They pulled up short in another junction, this one opening upward and giving them a faster route out. But Fox wasn’t going one step further without making sure Quinlan understood exactly what was happening.
“I know, I’m to find General Koon and you’re going to shadow your ass through the senate to make sure nothing else happens before he and anyone else he can convince can get there. But we stay together as long as possible because I also know you will get yourself in trouble somehow, and you should know that if you die while I’m not there I will drag your spirit back from your Force osik and then kill you myself. Because I am coming back with them, I don’t care what you say about the safety of the chips or anything, you promised.”
Fox had rounded on Quinlan and crowded the taller man against the wall, close enough to still see his pained expression with the filter on his helmet. The gang was circling, and they would most definitely be fighting before they got out of here, so Fox knew there wouldn’t be another time after this point. That they would fight together now, at least one more time before Quinlan went off to shadow a Sith Lord that still made Fox’s chest tighten and nerves ache. Because he knew this was right, but parts of him still felt it was so wrong.
Hands reached out, gently caught the bottom of his helmet and lifted it like it had many times before. His eyes didn’t have time to adjust before soft familiar lips pressed to his and Fox put all of his focus into committing that feeling to memory as he always did, just in case.
“As long as possible. I do promise, with all that I can control Fox,” Quinlan's voice was clearer, close and no longer filtered through the helmet he held just above Fox’s head. “You’ll find me, and I’ll be there. I promise.”
Another soft press, noses bumping lightly. Then it was back as they were, Quinlan replacing the helmet that was so uniquely Fox, and then drawing his saber and a blaster.
“Ready Commander?”
The footsteps were louder, a shout came from the direction behind them and the whole tunnel system seemed to come alive.
“More than you ever seem to be, General.”
Smoothly they moved, back to back as the shots began and they took off down another tunnel, Quinlan trusting Fox to know where to go and Fox trusting Quinlan to guard his back for as long as he could.
Because that was what they did now, two wild souls in search of a peace born of thrill and trust, finding each other by chance and staying together by choice. That if anyone asked Fox he wouldn’t have any better answer than this was his Jedi, his best friend, his trusted partner. That there was at least one person in this whole galaxy they could trust within the cage of their ribs, that they would risk the pain it could cause for the chance at the joy they had found.
Because that is what they did now.
Loved wildly, trusted blindly, and guarded softly, all for the hope of just one more night under the stars together.
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