#but I still feel like I’m waiting for input somehow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formulafics · 2 months

Text

❀ NEW DESIRE | MV1

SCENARIO: you and max are childhood friends. despite claiming a platonic relationship - or rather, not claiming a romantic one, fans are certain that there’s more to what you both have, especially when max openly simps for you on streams, and most definitely when his private account gets leaked.

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

AN: i am so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! that being said, i hope you still enjoy it! thank you for your patience and your request 🫶🏻 also i did use google translate for the dutch part so if you speak dutch im so sorry LMFAO

as always, a shoutout to @renarots because these fics truly would not be as good without their input. <3

if you saw me change the title, no you didn’t

MASTERLIST

YNLN on Instagram stories

grandprixsandgossip on instagram

14,567 likes

grandprixsandgossip for a long time, fans of max verstappen have questioned his relationship with childhood friend yn ln. recently, the formula one drivers’ private instagram account posts were leaked after a fan somehow was accepted to follow his private account, which features many pictures of him and yn, dating all the way back to 2014.

you can find the archive of his posts on our website by following the link in our bio. while we weren’t able to gather every comment and like, we were able to get a majority of the posts!

what are your thoughts?

view all 782 comments

formulaverstappen okay so this is pure he-said-she-said, but apparently on the holidays post, max’s sister commented “just friends? 😉” and max responded with the 😳 emoji I AM SICK

rizzciardo anyone who still thinks they’re just friends is LYING to their self

lnnation haunted by the fact that yn learned dutch for max and she helped him learn english

formulanorriz if he doesn’t ask her out at this rate, IM GOING TO

GRANDPRIXSANDGOSSIP.COM

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv goede race, nog betere mensen ❤️ of moet ik zeggen persoon haha (great race, even better people or should i say person haha)

ynln zoveel liefde voor jou. ik ben zo trots op je ❤️🏆 (so much love for you. i’m so proud of you. )

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv out of office

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv happy holidays 🎄

victoriaverstappen just friends? 😉

It’s funny, the way Max is. He’s blunt all the time, but this is different. A part of you is worried that maybe he’s upset, that perhaps something like this will be the reason you and him stray apart - you can’t imagine it. The thought of being anything but with Max matches your chest tighten, and even though you’d like to think that isn’t the case, you can’t be sure.

The wait for Max to arrive at your house is almost torturous. Your mind is racing, and by the time you hear his car pull up, you’re damn near shaking out of your skin. He doesn’t even have to knock or ring the doorbell - hell, he’s barely out of the car when you open your front door and step outside. You study his body language, trying to determine what exactly to expect. You just can’t clock it. With a sharp inhale, you lock your door and then make your way towards the car.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, uncertainty making your voice waver. “Yes,” Max responds simply. It’s a genuine yes, and in fact, he sounds almost happy. Your brows furrow in confusion as he opens the passenger side door for you, and you genuinely don’t think you could be more puzzled. You press your lips together as he returns to the drivers seat and starts the car again, not waiting to pull out of the driveway.

“Max, you’re scaring me,” you say. Scared isn’t the right word, but it’s something along those lines. His eyes stay on the road, yours are fixed on his face, still trying so desperately to read him. He glances at you, offers a small smile, then reaches over to grab your hand. He intertwined your fingers, assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. It’s still odd - the whole situation, but that does make you feel more relaxed.

It’s quiet for longer than you’d like it to be. Aside from the radio, which is on a low volume, and the smooth rumble of the vehicle, it’s silent.

Finally, Max speaks. “I’m not worried about the posts,” he says, glancing at you for the second time. You find yourself wishing he could look at you for longer, a weird feeling washing over you as his eyes return to the road. He squeezes your hand subconsciously, his thumb soothing over the back of it. “Seriously?” you almost forgot to respond, but at the last minute, you remember his statement. “Seriously,” Max hums. The smile returns to his lips, and much to your relief, he expounds.

“Sure, it’s not ideal, but at the same time,” he pauses, and you can tell he’s trying to think of how to describe it. He chuckles briefly, “The only way to put it is that it’s made me realize that you’re so much more than a good friend.”

You’re still stumped. Now, you’re realizing that you don’t even know where Max is taking you - not that you’re worried about it, but the whole situation is just so strange, especially for you and Max. Thus, you remain silent, eyes never leaving him. You’re waiting for him to say something else, and he’s waiting for you to respond, assuming that you’d understand what he’s saying. Hes the first to realize that you don’t understand, and amused smile playing on his lips at your confusion. “Hold on, you’ll know what I mean when we get there,” He says, and this is somehow so Max, but not him at all, leaving you to sit silently, at least a million thoughts filling your mind.

Max pulls into a parking lot, and it only takes you a moment to realize you know where you are. You’ve been here with him once before, and you still remember that night so vividly. That was the first - and only - time you had ever questioned your feelings for Max. Any other time, you never had to think about how you felt. You knew you were happy with him, and it was the same for him. You didn’t need to know if you loved him, and he didn’t need to know if he loved you.

Now that the memories are coming back to your mind, it begins to dawn on you, what Max said. Regardless, you stay quiet and let him guide you into the club, hand still in his. He takes you to the very spot you both sat the first night you came here, and this time, rather than an empty booth and table, there’s a large bouquet of white roses sitting atop the table, a small note folded beside them. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do. Your eyes flicker between the roses, the note, and Max, who carefully pulls you closer, his free hand now resting on the small of your back.

“I’ll give you the choice - you can read the card or I can relay it to you,” he says. You choose what first comes to mind. “Relay it to me.” Max nods, then turns you to face him, his hands on your waist. Instinctively, you place yours on his shoulders. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, and even though you’re certain that his words are the briefest summary of what’s in the card, you can’t be bothered. A smile takes over your expression and you nod. Max smiles too, pulling you into a tight hug.

The rest of the night, you continued on like you would have had he not asked you to be his girlfriend. There was no need for things to be different. In fact, the only thing that would change from here would be the pure admiration you both have always had for one another, and that was perfectly fine with you. Somewhere along the line, a certain friend showed up, and you did eventually read the card.

Safe to say, Max’s recap of the words written in the card were indeed brief. Your heart is happy knowing that only you would see such a soft, loving side of him, and only you would be able to clearly picture your best friend- boyfriend, all mushy as he writes the card.

maxverstappen1 on instagram

liked by ynln, landonorris, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 324,512 others

maxverstappen1 my ❤️

view all 7,432 comments

landonorris okay i guess we don’t do photo creds anymore 😒

⤷ maxverstappen1 👍📸

ynln so much love for you always. ❤️

⤷ maxverstappen1 ❤️🔄

⤷ formulaverstappen IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING THAT BACK TO YN??? THERE ARE REAL TEARS IN MY EYES

victoriaverstappen very ‘just friends’ of you

⤷ maxverstappen1 👀

⤷ mv331lvr YALL EITHER GET THIS OR YOU DONT IM GOING INSANE

ln4nation THE FACT THAT LANDO TOOK THESE AND WAS THERE WITJ THEM IM GAGGED

papayabull YN AND MAX CONFIRMED DATING THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

TAGLIST

@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @leclercvsx @sleepeatread @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @marshmummy @jellyfish123guts @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @sadieurlady @piasstrisblog @pretty-little-bunny382728 @lokietro @stopeatread

Thank you for reading! 🌷

#✩ . mv¹ files 🏎️#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smau #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen fluff #mv1 fic #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x you #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x you

914 notes · View notes

junicult · 1 year

Note

So... don't know if you have this in the works after your last post, but what would it be like with the bachelors going down on reader for the first time? If you're comfortable with it, that is. 👀

!! the bachelors going down on you for the first time

contains ; soooo much smut. i got so carried away mb y’all LOL. nsfw (minors pls dni.) fem!farmer. oral (f!receiving). praise. established & unestablished relationships. fwb!shane. sexual guiding. inexperienced!sebastian. implied height difference in alex’s.

harvey.

- haha.

- i love this man.

- he is so (i cannot stress this enough) so affectionate.

- absolutely infatuated with you and everything you do.

- as a doctor, he has a lot of people he spends time thinking about: but you are somehow always the main thing on his mind.

- like, tell this man that you did something so minor like stubbed your toe, and he’s carrying you around, forcing you bedridden so he can take care of you.

- well, maybe not to that extent but you get it. you’re the most important thing to him.

- so it’s no surprise that translates to sex as well.

- he only cares about your pleasure, and how you’re feeling.

- before you had sex, he was a nervous mess.

- he wanted it to be perfect :,)

- he didn’t wanna plan it ahead, just kinda hoped it’d all come naturally but surprise he spent the entirety of the day thinking about it.

- it was just supposed to be a fancy dinner date, yet he managed to find you underneath him in his neatly made bed, lips already swollen from his doing.

- “have i told you you’re the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen?” it’s corny, cheesy, but oh-so true.

- his fingertips feeling your thighs up your dress, burning into your skin.

- like i said, he’s been thinking about how this night would play out for days. he wants it to be perfect.

- what other way for it to be perfect then him going down on you?

- i’m just saying, harvey on his knees, wide, soft eyes looking up and you while his lips press against your thighs and his cheek rests against your knee.

- his fingers reaching up to slide underneath the waistband of your underwear, doing nothing but tug slightly.

- 😇

- “may i? please?” he nearly whispers.

- and the moment you nod, his lips turn into a soft smile like he’s been waiting forever for that simple gesture.

- he wants you to watch him comfortably, so he props a couple pillows against the headboard so you can look at him.

- loves when you get flustered and tries to hide your face.

- he pays so much attention to your clit. knows how stimulating it is, and especially when he sucks it just right and your hips twitch a little.

- deffffffinitely moans into your pussy 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

- & ruts against the bed lollllll

- uses his fingers too. he’s so slow, and careful, all the while his movements still make your head spin.

- “please don’t stop, ‘m so close,” you whine, eyebrows pinching, and you hardly even realize your fingers that ravel and tug on his soft brown hair.

- he’s shaking his head, as in a silent way to tell you “fuck, i’ll never stop,” as long as he can hear you moan like that longer.

- he’s SOOO EAGER.

- wraps one of his hands around yours while the other lightly presses into your stomach to keep you still.

- doesn’t even care that u nearly suffocate him when your thighs wrap around his head—if anything, he’s in heaven.

- can’t take his eyes off of u. he might just die from the sight of you alone.

- he has to catch his breath when you finally collapse, head lulling to the side.

- he’s literally so hard it hurts.

- pressing into your thigh when he comes up to kiss you make out with you.

- “y’taste so good, don’t you think? so sweet, can’t get enough.” “you’ll let me get some more, right? please? want you, need you so bad.”

sam.

- he’s blunt.

- just straight up.

- he’ll nonchalantly tell you if you have something in your teeth, and then pick it out for you.

- he’s the type to give you genuine input if you tried on a new outfit.

- like, “that looks amazing on you. turn around?” or “hm, it’d look better if it didn’t bunch up like that in the front.”

- zero shame. you know he’s not doing it to be rude, that’s just how he is.

- so, if he’s just lounging around at your house while you work, occasionally popping up to help you with easier tasks, expect him to be his same old self.

- and maybe even take you by surprise.

- you walk in during the evening, ready to change from your clothes and bathe after a long day.

- “hi baby,” he’s already smiling, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and his hands wrapping around your waist.

- he doesn’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way your eyes were slightly lowered from tiredness, or the subtle earthy scent wafting off your body—but it made him much more excited to have you in his arms.

- “you always look so pretty when you finish work.” he sighs, his kisses pressing down the other side of your neck.

- “i do? please,” you snort, shaking your head to dismiss him like you always do.

- but this time, he wanted you to know for a fact just how gorgeous you are.

- “why do you never believe me when i compliment you?” he pouts, leaning to bury his face in your neck.

- it’s the way his soft gaze has your heart thumping a little quicker, and the slight tilt to his head makes your throat threaten to close.

- his lips wrap around yours before you can protest his comment, leaning into you to slightly dip your back over your bed until he’s dropping you both along the mattress carefully.

- “can i show you just how pretty you are? will you let me?”

- he can spend hours kissing you all over. if you have freckles or moles all around your skin, i can assure you he’s kissed every single one.

- i’d like to think that, despite him not being super experienced, he’s still a very loving guy.

- he doesn’t overthink, he’s very carefree, so if he wants to eat you out, he’s going to. obviously with your consent ofc.

- he may not be the best at it, but he does know a lot about you, and since he spends a lot of time with you, it’s easy to see what you like and what you don’t.

- he thinks ur cunt is so pretty. probably embarrasses you on accident by just staring at it LMFAOO

- he’s so gentle when he starts. pressing his hands into your inner thighs to keep them spread, and his tongue is the first to touch you.

- fingers your clit so he can really delve between your folds.

- “taste s’good,” he’ll moan into your cunt.

- btw he’s moaning just as much as you are, he can’t get enough.

- tell him what to do. he likes when you whisper, “just…keep doing that for a second,” or “wait move your hand ba—fuck, right there.”

- it makes him feel so good when he’s doing it right.

- another man who’ll rut against the bed, and may i be so bold as to say he might even cum just from eating you out?

- yes. yes i may.

- he’s so obedient too. i don’t think he has it in him to ever edge you, because he finds that he just can’t stop.

- will overstimulate you more then anything.

- when you cum, he’ll probably be panting just as much as you are. his breath against ur dripping cunt, making to shudder while you catch your own.

- cups your cheek to kiss you again, completely ignoring the fact that your slick is all over his lips.

- he’s in love.

- “thank you for being my girlfriend.” GNNNNN.

shane.

- tbh, y’all probably had sex before u even started dating.

- more then once, at that.

- some of which you were both tipsy after a friday night, coming back to your farm to fuck him in every room of your house.

- you guys were definitely fuckbuddies at first.

- he went down on you a few times during these stages.

- but, as a guy who was a little drunk, horny, and honestly just wanted to get his dick wet—it wasn’t the best he could do. just enough to warm you up.

- he was completely fine with your situation, until he started to realize he was actually falling for you.

- that he wanted to see you outside of just hooking up. he liked when you’d stop by on his way to work, talk to him for a minute. he’d actually look forward to it.

- so when he ended up on your couch again, arms laced and kiss marks already littering your neck, he knew he was going to make this time different.

- your dress rode up just under your bra, his lips sucking your skin down your stomach while you propped yourself against the armrest of the couch.

- he was quick to loop his fingers underneath your panties, tugging them down your legs.

- “someone’s eager,” you tease, having no clue that you’re absolutely right.

- he’s almost desperate. like he has to show you he’s better then what he’s done in the past.

- his arms latch onto your hips, teeth gently biting down on your inner thigh to hear you let out a brief squeal.

- “stay still f’me, okay?” he asks, his breath hitting against your cunt that makes your stomach flutter.

- it’s the way he delves between your thighs that has you stuttering a gasp, instantly ignoring his one request so he has to use minimal strength to force your hips still and thighs apart.

- his lips sucking onto your puffy clit, causing your stomach to clench and immediately squirm under his hold.

- you’re looking down at him like you’re baffled behind pinched eyebrows and jaw wide—which is exactly what he wanted.

- so much so, he can’t even hide his smirk as his tongue slides between your folds to taste you properly.

- “o-oh, fuck me,” you breathe, head hanging back.

- you’re squirming so much, and he’s not having it.

- “can’t you listen to me?” he almost groans, hardly pulling away for his words to become intelligible so the vibration against your clit has you arching your back.

- he’s so messy, uncaring about the slick that’s staining his cheeks and chin.

- loves when you hide your face, mainly because it makes his confidence boost, but he’ll fs call u out.

- “nuh-uh baby, eyes on me.”

- he’ll gently nip at your clit if you look away.

- and he’s teasing you so much, you can feel tears prickle in the corners of your eyes.

- he’ll edge you just so he can start all over, and then overstimulate you so you’ll never forget it.

- will literally leave you breathless, collapsed on your bed after cumming for what felt like hours.

- and he has the AUDACITY to ask, “what? that’s all you got? c’mon, you can give me one more…right?”

sebastian.

- spreading the inexperienced sebastian agenda one post at a time.

- he’s never gone down on anyone before. so genuinely, he has no idea what he’s doing.

- well, okay that’s a lie. he’s not an idiot.

- he knows how stimulating a woman’s clit is, and he knows where it is more importantly.

- but he’s never exactly had one directly in front of his face.

- he’s only ever seen pussy eating in porn, and that’s not the most reliable source. so he’s kind of just depending on you to help him out.

- don’t be shy, either. he wants to learn. he wants to make you feel good.

- his goal: to make you pass out, tbh.

- but baby steps first.

- you’ve already had sex many times before he even proposed the idea of going down on you.

- he’s fingered you before, but even then that’s still new.

- needless to say, you were taken off guard when he asks, “can i go down on you?” after a lazy evening.

- you’re both doing your own thing, with him on his computer and you cleaning some freshly harvested vegetables in the sink.

- “excuse me?” you laugh.

- until you realize he’s not kidding.

- “i wanna learn.” is all he says, before you’re grabbing his hand and guiding him to your bedroom.

- he’s gotten good at knowing how to kiss you, that enough has you warmed up pretty well. you didn’t even have to tell him to kiss his way down your neck, to your stomach before he’s spreading your thighs in front of him.

- he wants to start by fingering you, because he knows how to do that, plus he kinda wants to approach it confidently.

- like i once said. long, thin fingers. he also plays the keyboard…he’s skilled w his hands.

- rests his cheek on your thigh, watching the way his fingers disappear in and out of your wet cunt, and the occasional gasp you let out.

- “what do you want me to do?” almost breathless when he asks.

- when he feels bold enough, he subtly flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, keeping his fingers moving inside of you while his eyes glance up.

- just the way your stomach clenched from that one simple action has him eager.

- wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

- “s-shit, yeah, like that,” you weakly praise behind multiple stutters and pants.

- he can’t get enough of how your cunt squeezes around his fingers the more he does something your body appropriately reacts to.

- which he loves. it’s like you’re subconsciously telling him he’s doing so well.

- he never realized how much he loves when you tug on his hair until now, mainly because you unknowingly press him against your cunt so he has nothing better then to just lick.

- he doesn’t take his fingers out of you, but he does move them a little so he can finally get a taste of the entirety of you.

- whines.

- he’s practically drunk.

- wishes he wasn’t so nervous to do this beforehand, because fuck you feel so good on his tongue.

- “the prettiest pussy, tastes so fucking good,” he mumbles.

- you probably didn’t even hear him bc he made no effort to pull away.

- stuffs his fingers inside of you, curls them right when you’re about to cum.

- and when you do, he feels on top of the world.

- he’s never seen your body shake like that.

- and now he doesn’t wanna stop.

alex.

- omfffffg.

- he’s a sweetheart, through and through.

- so doting and adoring the longer you get to know him and be with him.

- it’s rare you’ll wake up to make breakfast, or make dinner without his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your head.

- and he’s a little clingy, but that’s just because he loves you so much.

- ur first time having sex w him was early in ur relationship. probably the same day you made it official i’m ngl.

- but he likely didn’t go down on you until a few times after.

- not because he didn’t want to, but lowkey giving or receiving head isn’t his favorite part of sex. as a man w a lot of stamina, he’s fucking you to fuck you. not just eat you out.

- which is why you were a little shocked when you felt his kisses move down your torso, his hands gliding against the sides of your waist as he moves down.

- he also wraps his arms around your thighs to hold you still,

- mainly to show off his muscles.

- oh yeah, he’s not wearing a shirt btw. he never does.

- kinda laughs when you express your nervousness about him going down on you.

- “relax, pretty. just trust me. i’ll stop if you want me to.”

- kisses your thighs, and once he finally takes off ur underwear he’s suchhh a tease.

- like, to the point where you’re dripping, impatiently rocking your hips into him.

- “what happened, baby? not scared anymore? what’s the matter, hmm?” “all needy and i haven’t even done anything, hah.”

- i hate him (affectionately.)

- once he finally touches you where you need him, he’s so fucking slow.

- eyes on you the whole time, his little snarky smirk on his face watching you nibble onto the back of your hand to muffle your moans.

- he waits a minute before he fingers you while licking your clit.

- he feels so fucking good when you give up on staying quiet, letting your back arch and nearly scream out a moan.

- he’s so quick with it, his nice, thick fingers knowing just where to curl inside of you.

- “cum for me, c’mon, know you can do it.” he pulls away to speak.

- he needs to watch you entirely when you cum, so he replaces his lips with his thumb while he rubs your clit and fingers you until you’re sobbing.

- “i know baby, i know. just let it out.”

- he doesn’t stop just yet, but he’ll slow down until you nearly force him away from overstimulation.

- makes u lick his fingers loooolllllll.

- and he’ll make out with you so hard while you’re still trying to catch your breath.

- side note, i feel like he enjoys putting you in lots of different positions. if you weren’t flexible before alex, then u sure as hell are now.

- …probably ate u out once with u sitting on his shoulders against the wall. i’m sayin.

elliot.

- alright now.

- do i even have to say it?

- HE’S A MUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!

- if u don’t think he’s eating u out the very first time u have sex then ur just lying to urself. there’s no way he’d miss this step.

- if you don’t want him to, that’s a different story. he wouldn’t even dream of pressuring you.

- but if you do…u better believe.

- he’s so gentle and sweet, first of all.

- holding your cheek, cupping your jaw while your lips move so graciously against one another’s.

- he’s absolutely kissing his way down, but he’s taking his time, letting you squirm underneath him.

- “you’re just so perfect darling, look so beautiful.”

- kisses ur clit <3

- he’s so slow and gentle, licking you softly and listening to your quiet gasps.

- he swoons when he can hear your breath hitch the moment he starts to pick up his movements.

- he’ll position your thighs on his shoulders and laces your fingers together.

- he’s super responsive. loves when you praise him / tell him you like what he’s doing.

- especially when you feel so good you can’t really speak, so you end up roping your fingers through his hair and tugging it into a loose bun.

- that’s enough to drive him crazy.

- “nngh, c-can’t, s’too much,” you whine, back arches and eyes squeezed shut.

- but your words mean nothing in contrast to the way your hands press against the back of his head, keeping his close.

- he doesn’t even need to use his fingers to make you cum. his tongue is so skilled.

- sucking ur clit like a pacifier 🫡

- he’s also very vocal. he usually coaxes you through sex using his words, but since he can’t while he’s eating u out, he’s just left to moaning uncontrollably.

- and he can’t get over the vibrations making your body shudder every time.

- he gets so excited when you’re close to cumming.

- how you just kind of go silent, jaw locked in aisle nt scream with an occasional whimper pushing through.

- and how you immediately exhale the moment you finish, body nearly collapsing.

- he’s not stopping lol.

- wants you literally shaking, your overstimulation short circuiting your brain so you just fall weak.

- “i’m so proud of you, my love. did so good for me, tastes so good. think you can do it again?”

1K notes · View notes

moljh · 1 year

Text

No Secrets

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You take Eddie with you to Victoria’s Secret Fluff, flirting, mentions of sex, teasing Unedited - just a quick one I put together

Eddie wanted to disappear. He wanted to die. He wanted to curl up into the darkness never to be seen again.

These were the thoughts running through Eddie's mind as he stood frozen within the depths of hell that is Victoria's Secret. He didn't know why he was even here, why you had decided to bring him of all people, surely Nancy or Robin would've been better candidates.

Eddie had endured high school as the outcast and the freak, but somehow he had never felt this out of place and judged until now. You couldn't have been more than a foot away from him, but he still felt so strange.

There were bras and other lacey pieces of underwear lining the shelves and wracks around the entire store, there was no where he could look without feeling like some sort of pervert. So he decided to keep a very strong focus on the laces of his shoes.

"Eddie, hey" you said, touching his arm, clearly startling him slightly "sorry... You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, what would make you say that?" he chuckled nervously

"You can go wait outside if you'd prefer?" you offered him

Just as he was about to leap on the offer, he noticed the expression on your face and tried to put on a pretend smile.

"No, no, I'm happy to stay with you" Eddie said smiling, causing you to mirror him and smile to spread across your face as well, though yours was much more genuine than his

You continued throughout the store, collecting a few miscellaneous items and then headed to the changing rooms.

Eddie awkwardly stood outside of your changing room as you tried on a couple of things. Though in reality it was only minutes, for the leather clad boy it felt like an eternity and counting the scuff marks on his boots could only entertain him for so long.

"Eddie," your gentle voice suddenly said and Eddie spun around to come face to face with the curtain between you two "can I get your opinion on something?"

"Umm..." he said uncertainly, starting to question his expertise in women's fashion "sure..."

Your arm quickly darted out from behind the curtain and pulled the boy into the confined place with you. Once Eddie had gained his footing and expertly avoided going head first into the floor length mirror, he properly got to look at you.

"Holy shit!" he said without thinking

"Eddie!" you whisper yelled back at him

"sorry..." he muttered, mesmerised by what stood before him

"Well, what do you think then?"

"I was thinking why you wanted my input about women's clothes but I don't think this has enough fabric to be called that" he chuckled proudly

You gave him a flirtatious smile and took a step closer to your boyfriend "are you saying you don't like it?" you innocently asked

"Would never dream of saying such a thing" he replied, words as sweet as yours had been

Moving closer, you looked up at his sweetly and very slowly began dropping to your knees. You could see that Eddie was excited by your move, but you smirked at him at you simply picked your shirt back up off the ground and stood back up.

Turning around you once again, slowly and tortuously bent down to pick up another article of clothing. You enjoyed showing off like this, knew what thoughts would be running wild in Eddie's head.

Suddenly you felt him move behind you, the cold metal buttons of his jacket touching the bare skin on your back.

Pressing you against the wall of the small space, you felt his breath against the back of your neck "Though I might have to punish you for teasing me like this" he whispered.

Eddie didn't notice some of the looks he got from other guys as they walked back through the mall, as he was carrying your bags. His mind was entirely focussed on what he had witnessed moments prior, amazed that he had managed to convince someone so incredible to give him a chance.

Getting to the van, you jumped into the passenger seat and waited for Eddie to start the engine. As you both drove along the Hawkins streets, you came across a red light and stopped. Leaning over carefully, you moved one hand around Eddie's thigh and gave it a soft squeeze.

"I was thinking I might need to try on those things again when we get home, just so I'm one hundred percent sure they fit right"

Eddie's eyes widened slightly at your comment and a sly grin appeared on his face. You swore you had never driven faster than in that moment, you were just lucky no cops had been around, because a hefty fine would've definitely been a mood killer.

Needless to say they certainly didn't say on for long when you got back.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #stranger things eddie #Eddie fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie #stranger things #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #oneshot #stranger things one shot #one shot #eddie munson fluff

433 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 2 years

Text

A little burnt(out): Moon Boys (Steven Grant + Marc Spector) x fem!reader

Summary: you are feeling a little bit “useless”, and your Moon Boys are there to prove to you that’s categorically not true.

Genre: hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort - predominantly fluffy.

Rating: teen (but my blog is 18+ / minors DNI)

Author’s note: this is self-indulgent and I’m not even sure it counts as a fic per se, but I’m sharing as there’s a chance someone may enjoy it! This fic is a riff off of (recent/current) personal experiences with what I believe is autistic* burnout, but it’s kept quite general so might be suitable for anyone who is experiencing a whole range of things with similar symptoms (to oversimplify - fatigue, overwhelm etc. etc.). For obvious reasons, I chose the Moon Boys for this one! Written super quickly on my lunch break so don’t expect too much lol!

*that’s a whole other very long story as someone who is trying to get a late diagnosis in my thirties but anyway…

Warnings: maybe read the a/n to get a sense of the themes this tackles and see if it’s for you? Thx!

Gif: by @jenwallters

You had even failed to make coffee.

How?!

The thing you do on autopilot several times a day.

Well… Somehow, you had.

There is oat milk languishing in the microwave.

A boiled kettle which is now cooling, and three empty mugs sat on top of the kitchen counter.

“Er. Are you alright, love?” Steven probes gently, evidently seeing your failed attempt at making coffee for him and you and Marc (he likes it differently to Steven) as he emerges from the bathroom.

You simply pull the duvet more securely over your sarcastic, throbbing head. “Yeah. Clearly.” You ball your fists up and dig them into your eye sockets, scrubbing away the embarrassment of bubbling tears suddenly crowding your eyeballs.

Still, as much as you hate yourself for being unable to function the way you generally can, you have to admit it feels sort of nice to hide under here, in the dark and the quiet. To leave the demands -however small- behind. To be honest with yourself, and listen to your body. For once.

You ignore your body far too often. Shush what it’s trying to tell you - until it’s too late. Until your body has to scream or snap to make itself heard. Too much. Too loud. Too tired. Too long.

You can do plenty. And because you can do it, you often ignore the toll it’s taking on you, particularly when the outputs exceed your inputs. When your life isn’t set-up in the best way to make sure you can function sustainably. For the long-haul. Instead of this boom and bust cycle you seem to have found yourself trapped in, each “bust” growing harder and harder to drag yourself out of.

You refuse to listen to your body, but it always catches you up eventually - and this time, it feels harder than ever to spring back from.

Progress is slow. Whatever “progress” means anyway - an endless pursuit for more, better, faster, and perhaps you’re tiring of that. Perhaps you want things to be slow and light and easy. Soft.

Truly, lying here is just about all your body has the energy for today, even if -in contrast- your mind is racing, as per usual. Urging you to do everything.

You hear Steven sigh, and eventually, you hear the wobble of the heating kettle and tinkle of the tea spoon as he kindly finishes your task for you.

Next, you feel his weight gently dip the mattress next to you, those hefty cheeks making quite the impression. “Coffee, love,” Steven offers, in an attempt to coax you out from your duvet den. “Come and get it while it’s hot, yeah?”

You sigh, but not at him. Only because you’re fed up with yourself. At how long it’s taking to recover. So long, that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to operate like you used to. At the same time, operating like you used to fills you with a sort of dread, as you know that was precisely the problem. That it was precisely what pushed you too far in the first place.

“Come and get these lips while they’re hot, Marc says,” Steven relays on his behalf. “Got a big fat kiss waiting for you, yeah?”

Alright. Well you can’t resist that, now can you?

You abruptly shove the covers down with your forearms, squinting against the assault of the gentle light. Even these subdued sensations prove too much with your currently reduced threshold of tolerance, apparently. Regardless, you allow your grumpy face to pop into view.

Despite your grumpiness, though, Steven looks endlessly happy to see you, a soft, angelic smile lilting over his mouth. He dips to kiss your grumpy mouth, the tender, lingering press of his lips dissolving the frown from off your face like sugar stirred into sweet tea. “Morning, my goddess.”

“Pfft,” you protest, as if you could possibly be anyone’s “goddess”. Goddesses don’t cry so much in the shower, do they? Don’t have a meltdowns over report deadlines? Right? “Can’t even make a cup of coffee right anymore.”

Even so, you can’t help but notice that Steven is gazing at you like you hung the stars.

Steven’s eyebrows rise up, his expression still soft and open. Free of judgement. “That’s alright. Got your ol’ boyfriend to do it for you, ain’t you?”

Despite his sunshine -or perhaps because of his disarming brightness - your eyes close tiredly. You feel drained already, even though you’ve just woken up. Even though you’d tried to get an early night last night. Even though you’d already pruned your schedule to within an inch of its life to try and aid your recovery. “I’m just tired, Steven. Really tired.”

You feel a mess of scribbles suddenly animate in the pit of your stomach.

Full of calm, Steven sets the steaming mug down on the coaster to your side, and he reaches to tuck the duvet more closely around your chest, making you all comfy-cosy.

Still, the light frown which settles on his brow shows that he knows. That he understands. Knows you don’t mean that you need sleep. That your tiredness goes deeper than that. He’s been in that place before, after all. Has plenty to say about that.

Steven doesn’t respond in words, though. Instead, he settles his warm hand on top of yours and he nods slowly, demonstrating he’s hearing you. Validating you. That he accepts that when you say you are tired, that’s the truth. It sounds simple enough, but you’ve had an unfortunate pattern of people dismissing you throughout your life. Dismissing your challenges and struggles whenever you have spoken up, which has made it harder to trust now that your assertions will be taken at face value.

The truth is though, that by the time you actually express that you can’t continue, you’ve likely already pushed yourself far beyond your ideal limit. That it has been some time since you found yourself unable to continue, but that you “stubborned” your way through it anyway.

Steven and Marc and Jake understand. They have shown, through their words and actions, that they believe what you tell them - and after a lifetime of being sidelined, that’s no small thing.

You watch his expression shift as his eyebrows knot and travel up, his eyes shining with concern. His whole being a picture of receptiveness. Eager to listen. Promising to hear you.

You are grateful.

That openness provides you the space to say it. “I want to be better, Steven. It’s just… taking so long. I don’t even know when the last time I had energy was. Like, proper energy. I’m talking enough energy. Even tiny things seem so overwhelming. And… I can’t… I don’t think I can do it anymore. I can’t keep up.”

It’s true. Even the most basic of routines feels too much for you right now. And meanwhile, all your usual tasks and responsibilities have been piling up. So many deadlines looming. An ever expanding “to do” list. But, try as you might, you simply can’t manage to pull it back. It seems the harder you try the further you dig yourself down into this pit. The more depleted you feel. The less you are able to do the more you try to scrabble your way out of it.

You’ve tried, but you’ve been so overloaded and overwhelmed for so long that all your resources are just… gone. Right now, it knocks you into the red just to perform basic tasks, and you feel like you’ll never be in credit with your energy again.

You’re trying to go easy on yourself and allow yourself the space to recover - Steven and Marc and Jake have been supportive every step of the way too - but this coffee? That was the final straw. One of many final straws, it seems, as you keep finding yourself surprised by how many straws there are left to draw. An abundance of straws appearing from nowhere when you least expect them. How it keeps getting a bit worse without getting better.

Meanwhile, everything else is there waiting for you. Expecting you to carry on as “normal”. Your job, friends, family. You’ve told them. You’ve said, I can’t keep doing this. But they see you keep going anyway, and assume you’re fine.

Well, sometimes that is normal for you. To go go go a mile a minute. But, you are trying to accept that this is also a part of your normal too. Sometimes you can go full pelt, and sometimes… you can’t. It’s like… every activity has a cost, but unfortunately the price tags remain hidden from you. That is, until your bill hits the mat with a thud, and then suddenly you’re expected to pay up all at once. What’s more, you can never quite predict when that day is going to come.

Your boyfriends are different though, and for that, you are grateful. They know your experience is real and valid, and they acknowledge what you need. Even if you can’t always do that yourself - after so many years of masking and pushing aside your own needs until you couldn’t even recognise them.

“It’s okay,” Steven soothes, and you take a moment to admire the specific shapes the coils of his hair are making today - everyday a new delight. You’re trying to mindful of all the little things which replenish you. There is something to cling on to. “S’alright if you can’t do it for now, love. I mean… It’s okay if you can never do it again, to be fair.”

Your eyes brim with sorry tears. “I feel useless.”

Steven looks positively affronted on your behalf. He doesn’t like it when you’re unkind to yourself. You know it breaks his heart, but you can’t help it. He clamps both his hands around yours now, squeezing tight. “Aww. Come on. Look. You’re definitely not.” He brushes your face tenderly with the crook of his finger, and you know you must still look sceptical. Steven tries again, a truly valiant effort. “Anyway, you don’t even need to have a use, sweetheart. You’re a human being, not a bloody JML gadget.” Steven laughs lightly at his own attempt at kitchen-appliance-themed humour, and you manage a watery smile, at least.

“Steven…”

You shake your head, about to protest further, but he is having none of it. “How about you drink your coffee, darling, and we make it nice and dark and quiet in here, yeah?”

That does sound nice. Sounds like what you need so desperately. Still, it’s hard to allow yourself to rest. To say no to things. “We’re not going to do anything today? We need to do a food shop and I told Max I would help her with the-“

“Ssshhh,” Steven soothes. “Forget all that, yeah?”

He stands and efficiently flips the blinds. Dims the lights, before returning to you.

You take a deep breath, basking in the relief of having fewer things on your plate. Steven, for his part, scoops up the warm squashy covers and wriggles in beside you, fitting his body around yours - securely, like a big spoon.

You feel his next words warmly against the back of your neck. “You’re a human being not a human doing. Remember, love?”

You can’t help but scoff fondly at that. “Christ. You’re so cheesy, Steven.” Still, you wiggle yourself closer to him, and settle your arms on top of his where they loop around your middle.

“Maybe. But I make a mean coffee though.”

You snicker at that. “No. No, your coffee is sweet, Steven. I doubt you could make a mean thing even if you tried.”

He exhales a gentle laugh into your skin, and you feel and hear the soft wet smack as he plants a gentle kiss right behind your ear.

“What about those biscuits I made last week? They were pretty bloody offensive, weren’t they?”

You laugh. “A little burnt,” you admit, smoothing your hand over his.

You breathe in deeply, remembering. You hold your breath for a moment before you let it go, and when you do you feel a modicum of the tension eke away from your body. Steven simply nuzzles happily against you, seeming perfectly content with just this.

Today, this is all that matters.

You simply get to be.

No rushing. No expectations.

Only rest.

And that is more than enough.

You feel a little better already. More able to cope with the day, even as your eyes wander to the scene of your prior failure, Marc’s mug still steaming on the counter.

Wait.

Actually…

“Oh. Shit. Tell Marc not to drink his coffee would you, honey?”

“Too late,” Marc’s voice sounds against your neck, startling you just a tad. “I already tried it.”

Yikes.

You swivel on to your back to greet him and he remains on his side, propping his head with his elbow to get a better look at you. You slide your palm up his face by way of greeting - and apology. “Shit, sorry.”

His mouth slants into a lopsided smile. “Flour instead of sugar? Now that’s a mean coffee, babe.”

You snicker, facepalming at your slip-up, and Marc strokes his hand over your hair, studying you with a gentle vigour. Tracing nonsense shapes along your arm with his fingertips.

“Listen,” he says after a while and you tense up, his voice weighed down and a tension settled on his brow. “You’re not useless. I just needed you to hear that from me too, okay?”

You knew he’d been listening. Knew that he’d have something to say on the matter. No way he was going to let that one slide.

You can hear from the weight in his words that Marc never wants you to so much as think anything like that about yourself ever again.

“No?” you ask weakly. “Even taking into account the, um, flour in the coffee situation?” You suck air through your teeth.

Marc bends to press a lingering, soft, slow morning kiss to your mouth, and even after he has pulled back your lips still tingle. “Even then, honey.”

Marc looks down at you then with such sincerity that you could swear that -between him and Steven showering you in love- your heart grows three sizes.

Maybe it’s true - all that the boys have been telling you.

Maybe it’s not your fault that certain things seem to take a harsher toll on you, on occasion.

Maybe it is as real and valid as you’ve always suspected.

For years, you’d wondered if you had been making it up. Wondered if you should simply be able to… manage. But, pushing your discomfort away and extending yourself beyond your personal limits again and again -attempting to just manage- was exactly what had pushed you into this pit, over and over and over.

Besides, each time you found yourself here, it was proving harder and harder to crawl out of it.

Something has to give, you think. And you can’t change the world and you can’t change your wiring. Maybe all you can change -apart from the practical structures and features of your days, deciphering what support you may need - is believing you are enough, just as you are?

After all, Marc and Steven and Jake seem to have no trouble at all believing that.

Your chest tightens with the feeling of being so loved. So understood. So accepted. Your voice splits apart with a raw emotion. You could say a million things, but you only have the energy for three little words. “I love you.”

Marc’s full lips curl up at corners, his deep brown eyes glistening with emotion. “We love you too, Princess.”

Eagerly, he sinks his mouth to yours for another slow kiss.

You focus on just being.

Being here with him.

With them.

This is not just enough.

This?

This is everything.

It will all be okay.

#Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant x reader #moon knight x reader #Steven Grant #Marc Spector #imposter syndrome: activating *****

673 notes · View notes

bleucaesura · 1 month

Text

STOLITZØ - TWENTY ONE

The portal closed behind Stolas as soon as he stepped through. Octavia still held tightly to his hand, but he barely felt it.

Should I even be here? If he’s here, I’ll make sure he’s ok and then I’ll go. If he had wanted to see me, he would have contacted me… Somehow… But I’m never the one he reaches for…

Octavia had decided the best place to start was the nearest hospital to the Hell-Ring station, so there they all were, staring across the street from Eviscerated Heart General Hospital.

Loona was sniffing the air. She dropped to all fours to sniff the ground.

The M&M’s lingered, keeping quiet, but clearly anxious to get moving.

“I think this is it,” Loona stood and threw an arm around Octavia’s shoulders. Loona pulled her down into a quick playful noogie. “Great thinking, girlie!”

Octavia blushed and laughed awkwardly. She let go of her father’s hand as Loona led the way across the street.

The M&M’s followed closely at their heels.

Stolas’s heart clenched. He clutched his chest.

He’s going to be ok. He’ll be here. He’ll be ok and you can say hello. Don’t be a coward…

The others were already across the street and heading inside the hospital.

Stolas squawked in surprise and dashed across and into the hospital as quickly as he could. He wasn’t paying attention and almost bumped into the others inside the lobby.

Loona had lost all her confidence and had retreated behind Octavia, holding her shoulders and crouching behind her as if she could hide behind such a tiny teen owl. Octavia was very confused.

Moxxie and Millie looked sympathetically at Loona, and stepped ahead and on either side of her. Loona smiled gratefully at them.

That’s right… Blitzø said she was afraid of hospitals and needles…

“Loona, dear?” Stolas walked up beside her, but not looking down so as not to draw more attention to her or embarrass her. “Will you and the others wait for me outside while I speak to the administration? I’ll retrieve you when I’m done.”

He glanced at Octavia, who had clearly figured out the situation and smiled up at him in thanks. He winked at her and strode off to find the Information Desk.

Stolas glanced at a reflection in a room window and watched as the others ushered Loona out the doors.

Thank goodness.

***

A few minutes later Stolas exited the hospital and found the others seated on a bench just outside. They all rushed up to greet him.

Stolas raised a hand to stop any questions. He cleared his throat, calming himself.

“Blitzø was here,” he raised a finger to silence Moxxie who was about to jump in with questions.

“He left. Against medical advice.” Stolas said angrily. “No one knows where he went. The doctor told me Blitzø said he ‘had some place to be’. But he didn’t say where that was…”

Everyone looked at Stolas. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

I can’t tell them the rest. It won’t help them to know how badly injured the doctor thought he was…

“So now we split up. Search places he would be most likely to go.” Stolas looked at the others, gesturing he was now open to input.

“The office?” Moxxie suggested. Millie nodded.

“Home… Maybe?” Loona shrugged.

“The mansion.” Octavia said with conviction.

Everyone looked at her. She looked at Stolas.

He could feel his heart breaking.

Oh how I wish that were true my little Starfire.

Stolas smiled meekly, trying to look convinced.

“That’s the plan then.” Stolas clapped. “I shall portal Moxxie and Millie to the office. And Octavia and Loona to your apartment, Loona, dear.”

“And you’ll portal home,” Octavia looked hard at Stolas. “Right dad?”

“Right. Of course. Yes, dear.” Stolas tried to smile convincingly at her.

“Alright everyone! Let’s get this show on the road.” Stolas turned to make a portal.

Octavia came up and tugged on Stolas’s arm.

“Let me help dad. I want to help” Octavia looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “I’ve been practicing,”

Stolas looked at her, confused.

“I can portal to and from places I’ve been before now.” Octavia explained. “So, please. Let me do this.”

Stolas was surprised. He hadn’t known Octavia had progressed so far in her magic. Without him. He beamed with pride.

“Thank you, Via.” Stolas hugged her tightly.

The M&M’s exchanged information with Stolas and Octavia. Everyone agreed to call as soon as Blitzø was found.

Stolas opened a portal for the M&M’s to the I.M.P office building and they quickly disappeared through it.

Loona startled Stolas when she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Oh! Goodness! Loona, dear. What can I do for you?”

Loona averted her gaze and scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

Stolas looked over at Octavia, who just shrugged back at him, and returned to opening a portal. He went to look back at Loona but instead Stolas felt the air knocked out of him. He looked down and there was Loona, hugging him tightly.

He was so surprised he didn’t have time to hug her back before she’d let go and was running over to Octavia. Loona hopped through the portal without looking back at Stolas. Octavia turned back to her father, giggled and waved before following Loona.

The portal closed. A moment later Stolas’s phone chimed. He pulled it out to see a text from Via.

“Loona said to give you her number lol”

Stolas smiled down at the screen as it chimed again with Loona’s contact card attached.

So sweet… You raised a great daughter, Blitzy.

The thought of Blitzø immediately brought Stolas’s thoughts crashing down.

Stolas looked up at the sky and fought back tears.

What do I do now? I don’t even know him like I thought I did…

Stolas closed his eyes and silently cried.

Blitzø… Dearest… Where are you?… Please help me find you…

Stolas felt a drop of something fall on his face. He brought his face down and touched a finger to his forehead, swiping at what had landed there.

Stolas looked down at his finger.

What is this…?

He cocked his head and brought the finger closer to inspect what was on it.

Stolas rubbed it between his fingers. Even hazarded a sniff.

Black and viscous, it felt smooth to the touch. He looked at it closely and it seemed to shift colours and sparkle in the light.

Like the night sky…

Stolas looked up to see where it could have come from.

Nothing... Strange…

Stolas was turning to look back down at his finger when something caught his eye. A billboard across the street.

Isn’t that…?

Stolas shielded his eyes and looked again.

Fizzarolli…

Ice slid down his spine.

Stolas didn’t know why, but something inside him screamed, GO! NOW!

He didn’t understand, but he didn’t care. Stolas opened a portal to Asmodeus’s and stepped through.

*****

#helluva boss #stolas #blitzø #stolitz #fanfic #vivziepop #vivzieverse #blitzo #vivienne medrano #brandon rogers #fizzarolli

36 notes · View notes

aestherians · 10 months

Text

Defining Paratypes - Once and For All

Word count: ~1450 Estimated reading time: 10-12 minutes

1. Introduction

Language is a funny thing, huh?

In June 2018 I erroneously coined the word “cameotype” — English is my 2nd language and I’ve picked up a lot of words by just noting in which contexts they’re used and then never looking them up in the dictionary. Usually this works, sometimes it doesn’t. I thought a cameo meant an addition, something secondary, or something along those lines. When people discussed cameo-shifts, I knew they were discussing brief, temporary shifts, but it was only after coming up with this word that I realized what “cameo” actually means: A minor role.

That’s absolutely not the meaning I was going for when I made up the word “cameotype,” and I backtracked as soon as I realized my mistake. But I still needed a word to cover that concept I’d originally intended for “cameotype” to cover — to quote my original post: “You know those characters, animals, and so on that make you feel all shifty but aren’t technically kintypes or [hearttypes], yet are still important enough to your therian/’kin experience that you feel like mentioning them somehow?”

In March 2019 I finally shared a follow-up post where I suggested a few alternatives: Paratype (from para-/beside), fratertype/fratype (from frater-/sibling), and sintype (from sin-/together), all of which better describe the concept I was going for. My Anglophonic readers helpfully pointed out that the latter two words sound weird in English, and “paratype” ended up being the most popular word.

And then I never made another follow-up post.

2. An Ill-Defined Definition

I’m not sure why I never wrote a concise definition but in hindsight I’m glad I didn’t. It allowed for 4 years of input and discussion of the term and its scope. Originally, I wanted it to be very broad, covering “anything that doesn’t fit neatly into the established [alterhuman] categories but is still important to your nonhuman identity,” and I thank the gods that that didn’t become the go-to definition. It’s too poorly defined to be useful, and the broadness I was going for is already covered by synpath and vaguetype.

It did, however, end up with a not-much-better definition in Kiera’s Alterhuman Dictionary: “A character, animal, or mythical creature that is not a kin/therio/fictotype or a hearttype, but somehow feels important to your established identity. Some examples of how it may manifest include: inducing shifts of one or more of your established ‘types, showing up as a cameo shift that somehow feels related to your established ‘type, or feeling similar to a hearttype because they remind you of your kintype in some significant way.”

I never got around to asking Kiera to change that definition.

3. Covering all bases

Like I said, I’m glad I ended up waiting so long to write this essay, even if it wasn’t intentional. It allowed me to see a lot of perspectives that I wouldn’t even have considered on my own.

First of all, how do you know if something’s a paratype or something else? After all, it’s possible to have two kintypes that are extremely similar, like two species from the same genus, or two characters who fit the same archetype. If they feel obviously connected, how do you determine if one of them is a paratype or something else? The annoying answer is that you don’t — not really. Alterhumanity isn’t a hard science, we can’t run calculations to determine which identity facets fit into which categories. All our jargon should be opt-in, not something you feel forced to use because you fit a dictionary definition. If your kintype is a labradoodle and you later learn that goldendoodles exist, and you feel like you’re a goldendoodle concurrently with your labradoodle kintype, you can choose to call the goldendoodle a paratype, a kintype, both, or neither. “Paratype” is an opt-in category (no one is forced to use it) and it’s not an exclusive category (if something’s a paratype that doesn’t mean it can’t simultaneously be another kind of ‘type too).

The only requirement for something to be a paratype is that it has an associated identity. It doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s always an offshoot of something else. I was a bit wishy-washy about this at first since I was more attached to the “it feels like a hearttype/kintype/something else, but it’s not” part of the concept than the “it feels that way because it’s connected to your preestablished identity” part. But no, no matter how a paratype presents itself, or what the experience of it is, it’s defined by its origin: If your paratype-like feelings don’t exist because of another identity facet, it’s not a paratype.

Paratypes are not defined by their origins in the same way that some folks try to define kintypes - whether a paratype is psychological, spiritual, or something else is irrelevant. A paratype can be a quirk of the brain just as well as it can be a past life. As long as the paratype/your connection to the paratype is an offshoot/extension of a preestablished identity, it counts.

The example I’ve used most often to get the idea across is that I am a bison, and because I’m a bison it’s only natural that I feel a connection to domestic bulls. This connection does feel like a hearttype. Unrelated, I am also unicornhearted. The difference comes down to whether I can separate my otherhearted feelings from other parts of my identity. If I can (like with unicorns), I call it a hearttype. If I can’t (like with bulls) it’s a paratype. It’s definitely splitting hairs, but the distinction is valuable to me.

I did get a question once, asking if a paratype had to be an offshoot of an alterhuman identity, or if it could be connected to a gender identity or a disability. I had not considered that possibility, but I gave it a tentative yes. Especially in light of Mord’s “Alterhumanity is Queer” essay, queerness and alterhumanity is not something I want to split hairs about. If you feel connected to dogs because of your gender, or cats because of your disability, and you want to refer to those connections as paratypes, I’m not gonna stop you. More power to you!

It's also worth noting that throughout this essay I have been using animals as examples, but “paratype” is by no means limited to therianthropic/animalhearted identities. Plantfolk, fictionfolk, objectkin, conceptkin, and factualkin can all use it if they want, and the term can be used for any identity category, from kintypes and hearttypes to headmates and past lives to constels and linktypes. It can even be used for paratypes - in theory, a paratype can have a paratype can have a paratype, ad infinitum. Personally, I’m spiderhearted and as a result I feel strongly connected to other arachnids, including ticks, and as I feel connected to ticks, I feel connected to other ectoparasites, like mosquitoes and lice.

A paratype can have any kind of connection to your preestablished ‘type. I use the bison <-> bull example often because it’s an easy way to explain the concept, but other examples may include a lion therian whose paratype is gazelles, a reptile with a sun paratype, a rabbit with a hawk paratype, a robot with a glitch paratype, a mushroom with a tree paratype, a werewolf with a silver paratype, and I could go on. Even something like a lost love from another life or an entire universe could be categorized as a paratype if you wish to do so.

You can also get noemata from a paratype, or only have one specific version of a species/object/character be your paratype. A paratype can be as vague as it can be specific - it can be every single type of dragon ever, or it can be a specific interpretation of a specific dragon species from a specific book. Essentially, you can have any kind of alterhuman experience be classified as a “paratype” as long as it meets the “offshoot/extension of a preestablished identity” criterion - which led to the excellent essay “How a hearttype gave birth to a parallel life of a paratype - a view on the connection between spiritual and psychological roots for otherkinity” which I implore you to read - but not before you’ve finished the final section:

4. A definition - finally!

paratype, plural paratypes (noun) From para- (prefix): beside, alongside, related to; and type (noun): a particular kind, class, or group

1. (biology) a specimen of a type series other than the holotype 2. (biology) the environmental component of a phenotype 3. (alterhuman community slang) an identity facet that only exists in relation to a preestablished identity

#paratype #otherkin #otherkind #therian #therianthropy #otherhearted #alterhuman #plurality #otherlink #nonhuman

88 notes · View notes

wireman-au · 8 months

Note

Do you have any questions for us, then?

Oh, that’s convenient. An opening.

“Several! Do you see with my eyes or—oh, yeah, I do,” you say, and pause. “Okay, that was weird, but I know the answer now, thanks! Will the next question—where do you all come from?“

This answer is not magically known to you. The fact you magically knew the first answer is weird. You keep going.

“For that matter, who are you people? I mean, I know you’re me—I do? No, that’s stupid. I’m getting stupider. This is your fault. You’re not Bdubs, I’m Bdubs.”

This is illuminating. You also feel really stupid. You’re busy interrogating yourself, after all, and you’re somehow still getting surprised by the answers you’re giving.

You think.

“Do you actually want to help me or are you just fucking with me?”

No immediate answer. Like “where did you come from”, you’ll have to wait for outside input.

You pause. You don’t have more questions at the moment. The answers to these will determine where you go from here, you think.

#FILE #SUBJECT: bdubs #unreality

54 notes · View notes

beaker1636 · 3 months

Text

Caught - Vinny Mauro Request

Above is the request and below is the story! Thank you to @motionlessindoubt and @tearfallpixie for helping me by providing your input as I worked on this one, and thank you for the request!

There is another Vinny request coming, A chris request and a Rick request on its way! I’m not sure if I’ll get much posted the next week because it’s both my birthday and our wedding anniversary so I’ll be busy but I will try :) thank you for reading!

PS sorry if the formatting is funky, I had to do this on my phone because we still don’t have WiFi and I know tumblr mobile can be a bitch for formatting sometimes…. Enjoy!!

“Think that I can win you that stuffed animal I see you eyeing?” Vinny asks you with a crooked smile gracing his face, his hand moving to point at it with the hand you are currently holding.

“I don’t know, it’s basketball so I feel like you might be able to. You don’t have to, we all know that these games are rigged Vin,” you answer with a giggle, watching his face as he turns to look at you with a frown.

“Are you doubting my skills here, woman? Now I have to, come on,” he drags you over towards the carnival game with a laugh.

He knows that these games are made difficult, he knows that he probably won’t win you the big animal he noticed you eyeing, but he also noticed that you have been really relaxed tonight, that you are having fun and that is exactly what you need. He knows how stressed you have been with work and your family right now, so when he heard there was a carnival coming to town he knew he had to drag you and let your inner child out, help you have fun. As his boyfriend he feels like it is his duty to help you with things like this.

He pays the man before looking towards you first. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You roll your eyes and quickly give him a short peck, not wanting to do much else being in a public space with a bunch of kids, but that was enough to make him happy.

“Thank you babe,” he says softly before turning to take his first shot.

Somehow he made the first one, and then next thing you know he made the second basket. By now he is on his last one and you are watching him with a smile on your face, one that he can tell is genuine.

“One more good luck kiss baby, please?” He asks you sweetly, which you happily give him. Amazed he is doing as well as he has, because not many people stand a chance at any of these games.

When he sinks in his final shot and wins the game he turns and looks at you with a smirk on his face. “Told you that you are my good luck charm.”

You blush, glancing at your feet for a moment while Vinny tells the guy the prize that he wants, thrusting the stuffed owl in your hands when it was handed to him before the two of you walk away towards the next activity that you both had your eyes on.

“Thank you Vin,” you say softly, a little embarrassed but also really happy that you have something. When he leaves in a couple weeks for the next tour it’ll be a good reminder of your boyfriend when you miss him, which is inevitable to happen.

“You’re welcome, all that we have left that we mentioned wanting to do is the ferris wheel. Do you want to go take our ride on it before we leave?” He asks you, both of you slowly walking towards it.

“Sure, and thank you for tonight. I really needed this date Vin, I have had a blast.” You say, continuing to walk with him. Your hand laced in his while your other one holds the stuffy to your chest.

“I know you did, that is why I chose something like this. Sometimes you just need some fun, we all do. I know you’ve been stuck in your head lately,” he admits, both of you getting in line for the final ride of the night.

While you wait a group of a couple girls walk up towards the two of you, one of them wearing a motionless shirt, before she asks you already know what she is going to ask and you let go of Vinny’s hand, backing away a little bit. The two of you have been together for almost a year now but have been very careful to not out yourselves publicly. You both appreciate your privacy and being able to feel unpressured in your relationship so you have done your best to keep quiet. Doing this is so you hope that she doesn’t notice you and ask too many questions.

“Hi Vinny, I’m sorry to interrupt you but can we get a picture with you, we are big fans,” one of the girls say, a big smile on her face as she glances at the two of you.

He looks at you for a moment and when you nod, letting him know that you are okay with this he agrees, saying that you would be willing to take it for them so everyone could be in it, getting you thanks from several of the group. Glad that nobody is asking the dreaded question that you know is probably coming.

“Not to sound rude, but are you his girlfriend or something? The two of you are really cute together by the way, and thank you for taking our picture,” one of the girls asked, watching you closely to gauge your reaction.

Before you can answer Vinny does, “Oh, she’s nobody. we’re just old friends that are catching up. Anyway, it was nice meeting you,” he responds, ending the conversation so that they walk away from the two of you. Wanting to end it before things are said that he shouldn’t, before people spread the news that the two of you have done well at keeping private.

The two of you wind up at the front of the line, sitting in your seat on the ride as it begins to slowly move up. Taking in the sights and sounds of the carnival now that it is dark, but you never regrab his hand, honestly you keep a little bit of a distance between the two of you which has him confused but he doesn’t want to ask you about it. He doesn’t want to ruin the night, and doesn’t realize that what he has already said has ruined your mood.

When you reach the top and it stops for a moment he looks towards you, leaning in to give you a quick kiss and that is when he realizes based on how you didn’t really respond back to him that something has upset you, that he needs to fix whatever is going on.

“Y/N, I’m sorry that we got interrupted on our date. I didn’t expect that and I should have just said no to taking the photo with them,” he says gently, moving to grab your hand as the ride slowly begins to move again.

“That’s fine, I mean it is going to happen Vin,” you say with a sigh, trying not to share your annoyance with him but failing, he can tell.

“Then what is wrong? I can tell something is bothering you now, are you worried they are going to out us or something? I think they believed what I said,” he says, trying to get you to look at him but you don’t.

In fact the two of you are back on the ground now and you get off, starting to walk and let go of his hand in the process.

“Please, if I did something I want to know, I want to fix it,” he asks, walking beside you as you make your way back towards the parking lot, watching you concerned.

“Why do you care, I’m nobody to you,” you spit back, letting your anger finally come out in your words as you pull the passenger door open on the car when you finally make it to the car.

“That is what this is all about? I was just trying to cover for us, keep them from spreading shit around so that we can continue to enjoy our relationship without people butting in. You've seen all the shit the others get, the rude comments and hate. I don’t want that for you,” he says, now getting equally as annoyed. Both of you have said in the past that you want to keep things private, that you don’t want the fans involved in your relationship.

When you don’t respond he lets out a puff of air before putting the car in drive and making his way towards your apartment, reaching for your hand and getting upset when you won’t let him have it. You never reject his affection like this, it is clearly really bothering you.

“Do you want me to go public with us?” He asks you, wondering if that is what this is about, if you want him to tell people that you are together. He always thought that you didn’t want that, which is why he never posted anything about you on his public profiles, why only close friends and family know about your relationship.

“No, god Vincenzo, that is not what this is fucking about. It’s about how you made it clear that you are ashamed of me, that you don’t want anyone to know anything because I am nobody, I don’t mean anything to you. If it was that easy for you to say that I am nobody, then maybe that is how you actually feel,” you say, now sounding more upset and hurt than angry with him. He can hear the remorse in your voice, how your voice cracks slightly when you insinuate that maybe he actually feels that way about you.

“Babe, you know that you are important to me, that is why I tried not to bring any attention to us. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care about you because I do, I’m sorry.” He says softly, he suddenly feels guilty about his words, he didn’t think they would upset you this much.

“You realize this was going to happen eventually, I knew it would and that it would get out and I can live with that. But you brushed me off like I was nothing, just disposable and unneeded and that I am not okay with,” you say, now getting really upset.

He pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and you turn to look at him, giving him a light kiss on the cheek before reaching for your door handle tonight. “I’ll be fine in the morning, good night Vin, I love you.”

Before he can respond you exit the car, not letting him have a chance to speak. He sits there watching you walk towards the building with tears on your face, debating if he should follow you but he decides that he should just give you your space and let you settle yourself down some. If he pushes you too much tonight he will just make things worse so he starts the drive home.

When he gets home he sends you a message saying goodnight, that he hopes you sleep well and that he loves you. He waits for a couple minutes and eventually it says that you have read it, but you never respond, letting him know that he hurt you more than what he realized.

The next morning he wakes up and sees that you have sent him the link to a tweet, no words included in it, just the link. When he checks it he sees that the girls from last night posted the photo of them with him but also posted one of the two of you kissing during the basketball game. Clearly you are still upset by the fact that you didn’t have any comments about the tweet, just the tweet. He clicks it and reads it.

“We met @chenzomauro at the fair last night! He was there with someone but when we asked about it he told us she was nobody, but she sure doesn’t seem like nobody…”

He sighs, seeing how many comments and reblogs are on it, people clearly are aware of it and it is making its rounds. Does he comment on it? Respond to the tweets? Or is it best he just ignores it and lets it run its course? What do you want him to do? He sends you a text asking you what you want him to do about this but you just tell him to do what he feels is best… so clearly you are still upset with him for what he said last night, but he is starting to understand why you are upset. He deserves it honestly, he can understand why it made you feel like he is ashamed of you.

He decides for now that he will just ignore it, let it blow over and hopefully during his scheduled stream later nobody brings it up. He doesn’t want to be forced to bring up the relationship, he knows the hate that many of the girlfriends have faced through the years and he is worried it’ll happen to you. Make you more insecure and aware of what people think of you when he knows you already struggle with that sometimes. He lets out a sigh and pulls up the website of the local flower shop, ordering you a bouquet to send to you at work with an apology on the card, hoping it’ll help your mood somewhat and make you feel better. You have always loved when he has sent them to you before.

He gets the stream all set up and waits for people to join and get settled, noticing right away that all the comments are about the photo, the two of you. He internally groans and tries to ignore it as the viewer numbers grow.

“Hullo?” He says into the mic. After the 5 second delay, only for a moment, the chat is filled with hellos and greetings from his fans but soon it filters back into questions about you. “Ok, guys. Today, we are going to play some wow, we’re going to jam to some music, it's going to be fun, it's going to be chill. Capeesh?” There was some excitement and he nodded, hoping the excitement was dying off.

“Perfect. Let me grab some food and I’ll be right with you.”

He stepped back from the computer and went to his kitchen to grab the baked potato that he had been cooking prior to streaming to see it nice and toasty. As he was plating it up he saw a picture of you sitting on the counter, one he had taken on one of the nights you stayed over. You had been sleeping so peacefully in his arms and he thought you looked adorable so he had snapped a couple of photos. It was at that moment he realizes he can’t just ignore it, he has to speak on what had happened and hope you don’t get upset. He grabbed his plate and went back to the office to see the twitch chat just jabbering on with each other.

“Okay, there is something I have to address. I will explain because everyone keeps asking and you guys won’t let it go until I do. Yes, I have a girlfriend, I have for about 9 months now. I lied last night because we have so far agreed to keep our relationship private, I figured saying she was nobody would help prevent it from spreading around online but I was wrong. I just wanted to respect her privacy which is why we haven’t come out with our relationship, I didn’t want her getting hurt from comments or anything, so while I lied it was to try and protect one of the people who is most important to me,” he answers, glancing away from the camera. “I messed up but I won't be lying about her anymore because I love her and you will just have to accept that. I won’t be talking any more on this topic.”

People keep flooding the chat with more questions, but he ignores them and starts playing his game that he intended to, not wanting to continue the conversation. He doesn’t need to out you any more than he already did, especially when he doesn’t know how much you want people to know about you. He gets distracted with his game, which is much needed because he doesn’t want to sit there and worry about you while you are at work and can’t talk to him. He just hopes when you find out that he did comment on it that you won’t be too upset with him, but he doesn’t want to dwell on that. A couple hours later he hears a knock on his door. and pauses the steam.

“One moment guys. I’ll be right back.” He mutes the mic to go and answer the door, shocked when he finds you standing on the other side, hoping that he will let you in.

“I-I heard about your stream, someone tweeted a clip of you talking about us and I wanted to say sorry. I should have understood that you didn’t mean that I was nobody but was just trying to hide us to protect me…. I’m sorry I overreacted.” You whisper. “And thank you for the flowers and for just … everything,” you say softly, glancing away from him nervously. Hoping that he isn’t too angry with you.

“Thank you for being patient with me, and I’m sorry I never should have said that you are nobody. Let me go close the stream down because it is still going and then we can order dinner or something and talk about all of this, how much we want to share,” he says, moving to let you step in his house. You instantly throw yourself into his arms. He wrapped his around you tightly, intending to never let you go again. He pulled back and went back to his office real quick unmuting the mic.

“Hey guys, my girl decided to stop by so I’m going to end early to spend some quality time with her. I’ll be back next week. Sorry to leave so abruptly.” He waited a few minutes to see the messages flood in with their goodbyes and supporting messages and smiled before clicking end.

He went back into the living room and found you curled in his favorite blanket on the couch and grinned. You were right where you were supposed to be and he wasn’t going to jeopardize that again. He sat down next to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing your temple softly, both of you curling into each other as you sat quietly, waiting for one of you to speak up first.

“First, I love you and second, at least now we don’t have to worry about hiding completely anymore,” you start to speak softly. “That is one less thing to stress over now I guess.”

“What are you okay with people knowing, am I allowed to post pictures when we are together? Or like mention you sometimes? Or would you rather I just not bring you up, because it is all what you are most comfortable with. I don’t care what they know or don’t know honestly,” Vinny says, moving a hand to play with a strand of your hair that has fallen out of your bun.

“I’m fine with you sharing some basic stuff, but for the most part I think I want to stay private. I don’t want them to find out about my job or anything but if you ever shared my first name, or like something I said or whatever and photos, I can be alright with that… if that makes any sense?” You shift yourself closer to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck like you always do when you crave his comfort.

“I get what you are saying, that sounds great to me. Now, what do you want to order for dinner?” He asks you, running a hand along your back in soothing circles to allow you to rest. Glad that you two are in a good place now, that you are back where you belong, with him.

Now if only his attempts to get you to move in with him will finally go over and you will agree.

#motionless in white #fanfiction #bree sucks at fanfiction #vinny mauro #motionless in white imagine #Vinny Mauro x reader #Vinny Mauro fluff #vinny mauro fic #Vinny Mauro fanfic #Vinny Mauro fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

stay-mon-army · 1 year

Text

A Little Bit of Chemistry

Warning(s): embarrassment, self-consciousness

Word Count: 2,417 words

Pairing: Gaon x Gender Neutral!Reader

It wasn’t that you were bad at chemistry. You wanted to get that clear right off the bat. You were fine at chemistry; it was just that this professor was an absolute asshole. All he did was complain that his students kept failing his exams, but he wasn’t ever teaching you what to do. You would go to class, you would take notes, you would study said notes, and somehow you always failed his quizzes because none of the content was anywhere in your notes.

You hated to admit defeat and go to a tutor. You weren’t stupid, you were just a victim of bad teaching. But finally, you realized that if you didn’t get someone else’s input (preferably from someone who had passed the class), you were going to have to take the class again, and you just couldn’t do that. You refused to sit through another semester of this professors horrible test-making.

You had asked the professor if he could recommend you a past student who might be willing to help you with studying and he had been quick to mention a boy named Jiseok who had passed the class next semester. He gave you his school email address and seemed very excited that a student was working towards passing his course. Whatever, he was the one who made everyone fail anyway.

You had emailed him last week and he had quickly agreed to help you study for the chemistry class. Apparently he was a chem major and was always excited to talk about his passion and help others understand the arguably difficult topic. You agreed on a time and place to meet up to begin working.

Before you know it, it’s the day you are meeting with this mystery boy at the library. You grab your chem stuff and begin the trek up to the large building. You wait in the entryway for a moment, realizing you didn’t ask where in the building you were going to meet. He had said he would book out a study room for you both to have a bit of privacy, but you don’t know which one he had booked.

As you stand there, looking around for the boy that you’ve never seen before, you feel a hand tap against your shoulder. You turn around to come face-to-face with a smiling boy with shoulder-length black hair, his eyes crinkled up with his grin.

“You must be (Y/N), right? I’m Jiseok!” His voice is lilting and upbeat, exactly as you would have expected based off his happy demeanor. He looks like a happy puppy, excited and bouncing with energy. “I got us a study room so we can go work on your studying!” He points towards the back of the library, where the study rooms and computers are located.

He begins to walk in that direction, smiling back over his shoulder as he checks that you’re following along with his stride. You quickly start after him, taking long strides to catch up with him so you weren’t following at some uncomfortable distance. As you reach the study room, Jiseok pulls out a key and unlocks the door, stepping inside to hold it open for you. Inside is a small table with three chairs around it. On one wall is a whiteboard with markers and an eraser so that students can work together.

You slip past him through the doorway, thanking him as you set your stuff down onto one of the chairs. He closes the door and plops himself down onto the edge of the table, crossing his leg under the other that’s dangling over the edge.

“So, what exactly are you learning right now?”

You spent the whole two hour session letting him know where you are content-wise in the class. You tell him your problems so far and how everyone seems to be struggling but that you think the professor doesn’t want to change anything even though he’s obviously the reason you’re failing. You let him know what you know and that in every previous test had nothing gone over in class. At this, Jiseok laughs.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Donaghue is horrible at making tests that actually meet with what he’s teaching. That happened with my class too. Since your class is still on the periodic table stuff, your next test will likely be on atomic structure. He somehow always assumes that students make that next jump on their own, and they never do.” He quickly pulls out papers and his laptop, flipping it open quickly and typing hectically on the keyboard right away.

You sit and stare at the boy before you, blinking for a moment before you chuckle softly to yourself.

He doesn’t pause his typing, but he looks up at you with a small smile. “What?”

“You’re kinda amazing.” You laugh, shaking your head. “You just remember all of this and know exactly how to help. What are the chances I found the only person who could manage to help me ace this class with just a simple question to Mr Donaghue?”

Jiseok smiles even wider, his eyes sparkling at you obvious content at him as a tutor already.

“Maybe you’re just lucky.” He grins, ducking his head back behind his laptop as he keeps searching. Finally, he turns his screen around so that you can see it as he shows you some sort of powerpoint presentation. “So, I’ll go over some of the basics, and then I have some worksheets and problems to see how much more detail I need to give you.”

~~~

You ended up loving to spend time with Jiseok. You liked chemistry before, but the way he taught it made it feel so much more fun. He always made jokes to help some content stick, or he would create problems that had impossible situations or ideas hidden within them. He smiled every time he saw you and always wished you an amazing day when you two went your separate ways after a study session. You could almost call him a friend; you never hung out outside of your study sessions, but you looked forward to your study sessions, and part of you was interested in interacting with him in a more relaxed and fun environment.

So, one day, you decided to invite him to hang out with your friends. You were throwing a small party, which was just a couple people having food and watching stupid movies, but you thought he might be interested. He was always laughing and making jokes with you, and he hadn’t been shy when you first met each other. You were hoping he would respond positively, even if he might be a little unsure at first.

What you weren’t expecting was to watch his face drop. He had been smiling, ready to start talking about the newest topic after you passed your last exam, when you’d interrupted to extend the offer. His smile slid from his face, almost comically, and his eyes visually shuttered. He paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open, before he snapped back to a smile, although it didn’t reach his eyes again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I have to study for an exam the next day, so I’ll be busy. Maybe next time though!” He grins at you, throwing in a sheepish shrug when you really look at him for a second.

You try not to think too much of it and you smile back, although your eyebrows stay furrowed as you look down at your notebook as you flip to a blank page to prepare to take notes on what he teaches you today.

It doesn’t hit you until you get back to your dorm that you hadn’t gotten to tell him the date of the party, so he didn’t even know when you were inviting him over.

~~~

The next time you began to raise your eyebrows at Jiseok’s behavior was when you managed to run into him on campus. Before that, you hadn’t seen him anywhere on campus; you almost thought that he wasn’t really a student. You were always on campus with friends, doing work, or just getting some exercise, and you had never seen him anywhere. However, the day before a major test, you were walking around campus to destress from studying on your own in your dorm and you saw Jiseok sitting with a few people you assume are his friends.

At first, you weren’t going to approach, because you thought he might want to spend time with his friends and you didn’t want to bother him. But then you remembered that you wanted to get to know him, and you thought that this would be a nice way to break the ice between you two and your study-only relationship. So you took a breath to calm yourself and you stepped up to their table, smiling down at Jiseok.

“Hey, Jiseok! How are you?” You try to sound chipper and surprised to see him. His head whips around to look at you, mouth opening and closing for a second as his eyes nearly bulge from his head.

“Um, hey.” He says, turning and looking at his friends quickly, obviously awkward about the situation. You stand there for a moment, looking at his friends. One is looking at him with a look of disapproval, another is chuckling behind his hand, while the last is looking at you, pityingly and kind.

You stand for what feels like an eternity with Jiseok not looking at you. Finally you clear your throat, mumbling a “goodbye”, and rushing off, holding your notebooks closer to your chest as you turn away.

You can’t believe you made such a fool of yourself. You wanted to be mad at Jiseok for treating you like he had never seen you before. You wanted to scream and cry about how he let you flounder there in front of his friends when all you did was say hello. You wanted to be so angry about his dismissal of you like he didn’t want to recognize that he knew you when you so obviously knew him. But instead of all that, you hated yourself for thinking that it was a good idea to approach him. That he would accept your random friendship when you were just some stupid student who needed help with chemistry. You weren’t friends. You didn’t really know each other. You felt absolutely idiotic for thinking that this was a good idea. You never wanted to show your face on campus ever again. You never wanted to see Jiseok again.

But you had a study session with him tomorrow.

~~~

You almost cancelled your session. You almost texted him and told him not to worry about meeting. That you would just figure out the last two months of class on your own. That you weren’t worried anymore and that he had helped plenty, thank you, you were finally a chemistry master.

But you knew that wasn’t going to help anything. While you were tired just thinking about having to interact with Jiseok after that super awkward interaction with his friends, you needed his help. Another quiz was coming up in a couple weeks and you needed to practice what only he knew was on it.

You arrived just on time to your session, in the same room as you always meet in. Jiseok was sitting in the room already, his laptop and notebook open before him, texting vigorously on his phone. As you open the door, he quickly locks his phone and places it face down on the table. He looks up to you with a wide smile on his face.

“Hey, (Y/N)! How have you been?” He’s got that giant smile on his face that always makes you feel like the coolest person in the world— like you had done something amazing by just existing.

And that smile alone destroyed your mental fortitude.

You drop your backpack onto the table and cross your arms. How dare he. Acting like he didn’t complete embarrass you in front of his friends yesterday, like it wasn’t the worst possible option from the interaction, like he didn’t act like he didn’t know you when you were out in public. You hadn’t done anything to him, so you needed to know why he felt the need to treat you the way he did.

“Why did you treat me like that?” You ask, voice coming out much smaller than you meant it. His smile falls from his face, his eyes wide, mouth agape.

He gulps and blinks at you. “What?”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with your stupid little tutor case? Is that what happened? All I did was say hello. Do you not want to be seen with me? Huh?” He stares at you as your voice rises, you can feel your face getting hot, but you don’t care. You need to get this off your chest. You need to know. He doesn’t respond and you repeat yourself. “Are you embarrassed to be with me?”

You finally stop, breathing heavily as you feel the emotions boiling in your blood. When Jiseok doesn’t respond at first, you groan loudly, spinning to face away from him and dragging your hands over your face. You hear him shift, but you don’t look at him. You can’t, because if he keeps looking at you with those sad, scared eyes, you might just combust into anger again, and you want to compose yourself again.

“I’m not embarrassed by you. I was embarrassed- I am embarrassed about how I feel when we are together, and I- I was afraid...” His voice is quiet, gentle, soft, you almost don’t hear him. You pause, back straightening at the response you weren’t expecting.

“A-about... how you feel?” You whisper back, staring at the wall before you, afraid to turn around and scare him off. Maybe, if you don’t look at him, he might continue to confess to you, explain what happened.

“I’m afraid others will know. That they’ll figure it out because I’m not sure if I’m ready to do anything about it. I like how our little tutor sessions are. I’m not ready to change anything about that yet. Because, I’m such a coward, and I’m afraid.” He sounds choked off and you turn quickly, throwing caution to the wind.

His eyes are staring at his hands in his lap, like he knew you were looking at him and he couldn’t meet your eyes. His hands wrung in his lap, his body shaking lightly like he was afraid of something. Afraid of you learning this about him.

“What do you feel, Jiseok?” You don’t know why your voice won’t get louder than a whisper, like you were afraid that he would run away or shut down if you spoke too loud.

He raises his eyes to yours, shining and wide like a sad puppy. He blinks, takes a deep breath, exhales, and opens his mouth. “I think I like you.”

You blink back, having had a suspicion that was where he was going, but not totally expecting him to say it. “I-”

“We can pretend I didn’t say anything. Like I said, I don’t think I’m ready for anything to change. But I don’t want you thinking I don’t like you or that- that I’m embarrassed about knowing you.” He’s looking back at his hands, twisting them tightly around each other like the pressure will take away the embarrassment you know he feels.

“Let’s meet for dinner later.” You say, standing still and holding your breath.

“What?” His head snaps to you, eyes shining now with something new, something deeper.

“Let’s meet for dinner tonight. We have our study session right now, like normal. And then later, we get dinner together. It can be at the cafe or the dining hall or wherever you want. We hang out as friends. We get to know each other. We see how things go.” You sit down on the seat across from Jiseok, feeling tense and self-conscious. You don’t really know what’s come over you, but you know that this is what you want.

Weren’t you feeling bad because he didn’t seem to want to be around you? Didn’t you invite him out because you wanted to spend time with him outside of the tutoring session? You didn’t know if you liked him, but you wouldn’t mind getting to know him better to figure it out.

His eyes flicker across your face, looking for something. He must decide he likes whatever he sees, because his mouth splits into a wide smile.

“We see how things go.” He says, holding out his hand. You smile back and shake his hand.

You were excited to see how things go.

#gaon xdinary heroes #XH Gaon #gaon xdinary heroes imagine #xdinary heroes #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes imagine #xdinary heroes gaon #jiseok #kwak jiseok #xh jiseok #xh jiseok imagine #xdinary heroes jiseok

217 notes · View notes

smalltendencies · 6 months

Text

Voretober Prompt: Drink (TSPUD)

Heyyo! While I was sick with COVID, I took the time to try and feel better by writing. I wanted to do prompts from Voretober, but I won't really have a lot of free time so for now this is all I got. Some of the headcannons used in this are from other TSP vore blogs that I thought fit the Narrator well such as mawsnclaws and s1desn4cks.

Relationships: The Narrator and Reader (can be romantic or platonic. It's left up to you)

(TW: contains soft, safe, nonsexual G/T vore and extreme cuddling)

Word Count: 3,139

“Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there.”

The Narrator spoke the line into the microphone like a crisp record. It was a feat that he was able to keep the same tone, the same emotion, through the fifth playthrough today. It was enough to make anyone go insane.

And apparently, the monotonous repeating of the same story over and over again would bring even the protagonist to his knees.

“Stanley continued to- Oh, no! Oh, no no no no no no no no no no no no, not again! Stanley! What is so intriguing about that closet? Your fascination is absurd! Stanley! Don’t go in that-!” He was cut off by a loud bang. The sound of a door slamming shut signaled that Stanely was no longer listening to the Narrator, opting to take a much needed break from the parable.

“That closet has no significance to the story whatsoever! What does he see in it?!” The Narrator grabbed for his hair, scowling at the microphone like it was the man himself. No doubt Stanley would stay there for a while. Left to his own devices, he would nap in there for at least an hour. He couldn’t hear the Narrator in there, and he couldn’t be forced out of there unless the Narrator physically made him. And that was something he didn’t feel like doing today.

Beside the Narrator’s desk on a side table, a borrower who somehow got stuck in the parable as well was watching the exchange in apathy, used to the love-hate relationship the two fostered.

“Maybe if you didn’t blow him up every few resets, he wouldn’t go there.” You shuffled through a stack of papers. Since you weren’t Stanley, you had nothing better to do than read the rejected scripts that the author forgot to throw away. And it's not like you could be a stand in protagonist while Stanley rested or a side character considering your size. The Narrator was patient, but not patient enough to wait 10 minutes for you to walk through the first room or climb up steps one by one. There's only so much time a parable could take without losing the interest of its readers after all.

You were much safer with the Narrator where he could watch you.

“But that's his choice too! If he listened to me, then we wouldn’t do the Countdown Ending!” Seeing what you were up to, he gave an exasperated glare. “And could you please not mess with those? I’ve neglected to throw them away, but that doesn’t give you the right to snoop.”

You dragged another piece of paper to the edge, walking across the large printed words to read another line of dialogue about Stanley and the bucket’s mock love story. “I’m not snooping, don't worry.” You waved him off dismissively so he could continue. Even if he was just venting at this point about Stanley not listening to him, you still tried to lend an ear.

The Narrator’s fear of isolation made you sit through each of his long winded lectures. When he garnered enough courage to admit how he felt about what happened with the Skip Button, it came with the reluctant admittance that you were a support for him. Despite your nature, just the knowledge someone else was there to offer input, to listen, gave him solace- especially in these moments where Stanley was unavailable. So you tried your best to help stave off any anxiety in exchange for him not smiting you for bothering his parable.

(It made you wonder if the Narrator would even let Stanley have these ‘breaks’ if you weren’t around to take his place)

“Back on topic, yes. He knows what happens when he doesn’t listen. Getting blown up by a nuclear device, getting crushed, going mad, falling to his death, the infernal bucket dying! None of that would happen if he just followed the story.”

You nodded in confirmation. You omitted from reminding him that most people don’t like doing the same thing over and over again, even if it means doing a more pernicious path was the only option, but that’s an argument for deaf ears.

Running out of material to read, you go searching for the next activity while the Narrator was distracted.

The scripts he was working on at his desk was your next target. His typewriter was pushed to the side while he narrated. It gave you time to stand on it and read what he had so far. The jump wasn’t far from his side table to his desk where he pushed them beside each other for your convenience. Readying yourself, you went to take the leap.

You were closer to the edge than you thought, and when one foot lifted, you felt your other slip over the side before you could spring off. You followed suit, your whole body going over the side and missing the other platform.

You were falling.

Time didn’t slow down like the books always said. Rather, it seemed to go faster, fast forwarding to your rapid descent to the ground below. Even the horrid brown carpet wouldn’t cushion the fall enough to keep you safe; you were at the very least breaking bones. You chose to close your eyes and remain ignorant of when impact would happen.

Somewhere above you, aside from the wind rushing in your ears, a voice shouted in shock.

The sensation of your stomach dropping from the fall was abruptly halted by someone catching you. From the warmth radiating off the surface and the way your body sunk slightly into the ground, you registered it as the Narrator's hand. The world moved around you as your own hands moved under you to help you sit up.

Your near death and the vertigo had your head spinning to where you didn’t register you were being lifted to be eye level with the Narrator, scanning you over again and again to make sure you were ok. Large yellow eyes directed a worried but harsh narrowed glare at you.

“You need to be more careful! I thought I wasn’t going to catch you in time!”

You weren’t listening to him, trying to get your panicked breathing back to an even rhythm. He didn’t care of your plight, continuing to berate you.

“You are just like Stanley, honestly- What if I wasn’t here? Or I didn’t see what happened in time? You could’ve died!” While you understood he was yelling out of panic, it hurt your ears where you were so close to him. You shrunk back from the noise, covering your ears to block out some of the volume. Everything felt overwhelming, taking in all the senses and emotions at the same time, and Stanley still wasn’t out of that closet so the attention was completely directed at you and-

“There is only so much I can reset! Stanley automatically heals sure, but I don’t know what happens to you-” He finally paused his tirade to study you again, seeing you cower from him as much as you could when the only place you could be was his grasp. He felt guilt choke his throat, his fingers instinctively curling around you more as a barrier from moving any further.

He coughed awkwardly, “I apologize for speaking so loudly. That was unbecoming of me.”

The Narrator’s other hand slowly moved to your level, carefully trying to maneuver his finger to stroke your head. He wasn’t used to the range of emotions humans (and human adjacents?) normally dealt with, and he was even worse at comforting others with said emotions. If only Stanley would come back to break the tension…

“But I won’t apologize for what I said. You are quite fragile my dear. My goodness, it isn’t safe anywhere for you. I thought that my office was the perfect place for you so I could keep a watchful eye, but it appears I was wrong.”

His moment of guilt was gone, replaced by his usual lilt of knowing and slightly condescending, “I was right about you being too adventurous. Sometimes, I have half the mind to put you in a box so I know you can’t get into trouble.” A box sounded awful. Hard, uncomfortable, and terribly boring. You didn’t doubt he would go through it too, remembering how he treats Stanley when he veers off course too much. The Games Ending where he left Stanley alone like a grounded child didn’t leave your mind.

“Of course, I could conjure up a box of some sort…” he hummed in thought, watching you with interest. The one hand that was comforting you left to prop his head on his fist. The one you were on slowly moved away from him, lowering to a point where you assumed he would drop you back on his desk. Any concern from earlier was put away, replaced with a grin.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

His hand turned vertically and before you knew it you were sliding and falling once again. There was no warning or time to catch your breath as you landed in liquid hot enough to miss when you swam upwards to hit air. Moving your arms and legs to keep yourself stably afloat and stationary, you took a moment to take in what the fuck just happened. But it didn’t take long to understand after seeing the porcelain white walls around you and brownish black liquid you floated in. The overly strong citrus smell clogged your nose and made you want to cough out your lungs.

The smug bastard of course dropped you in his tea.

The Narrator looked down at you in amusement, no doubt finding humor in the situation. If you were clueless before, you definitely weren’t now. It was obvious what he planned to do (and you had half the mind to let him since it’s not like you disliked it). The clink of metal against glass alerted you back to the present. His tea spoon tapped the side mockingly, and slowly came to stir around you in lazy circles, making the whirlpool in the middle spin you around with it. The current wasn’t powerful enough to take you under, but it was definitely annoying to paddle against.

The pull abated as he scooped some tea, along with you, up out of the cup and toward him. You instantly felt the loss of heat that the tea supplied, shivering in the cold air. It encouraged you to lay down in the meager supply you had if only to get a little more warm.

“I recall you saying you don’t appreciate going down with my tea like some pill, so I won’t put you through that again for a while... But I figured I’d let you steep so you at least taste good going down.” At this point, the loss of adrenaline from earlier, the heat, and having to move so much to stay afloat left you torpid. All you could do was weakly glare in annoyance and shake from the rapidly depleting temperature.

He laughed in amusement, not intimidated at all by your meager defiance; if anything, it spurred him on. Bringing you closer, you braced yourself to be swallowed, only to be given an experimental lick like a simple taste tester.

The Narrator floated his spoon back over his drink. You watched him in confusion, seeing the way he frowned slightly and shook his head. “No, you definitely need to sit for another minute or two.”

He unceremoniously dropped you back in, watching as you broke to the surface gasping for air before nonchalantly going back to stirring as he talked offhandedly, “Funny to think I just picked a random tea today because I didn’t expect this to happen. I don’t know what tea I would’ve picked if I did know. A Chamomile? Cinnamon Chai? You can give me your input on what you would prefer later.” Just when you felt like you couldn’t paddle anymore, you were once again scooped up. He maneuvered just so to where there was barely any of the liquid taken along with you. You curled in on yourself, hoping to stave off the chill this time. The Narrator grinned at you in an innocent facade, “But in all honesty, I think Bergamot is the best tea to pair with you.”

Maybe he noticed how tired you were, or maybe it's where he knew Stanley could come back at any point, but he didn’t waste another moment before opening his mouth and inviting you inside. At this point, the warmth that it emitted and the darkness seemed like a good place to rest. You acquiesced, closing your eyes and waiting.

He smiled more genuinely at the sentiment, appreciating how much you trusted him at this point. With the tip of his tongue, he cautiously slid you off the spoon onto the middle of his tongue. Not bothering to open your eyes, you let the light that penetrated your eyelids slowly fade to black as the access to the outside world left.

There was no point in moving, choosing to lay down content on the soft surface below you. The yellow hue always intrigued you, knowing that the physical form he picked to interact with Stanley and you still didn’t look quite human. It was endearing and uniquely the Narrator.

After letting you lay there for a bit, he carefully moved you, rolling you like candy to coat you in saliva and taste the residual tea. You felt him hum in satisfaction, and it made you wonder if he lied earlier and planned it this whole time. This went on for a bit, letting him do what he wanted without resistance. He proceeded to focus on pushing you to the roof of his mouth without hurting you, keeping you there while he sucked off the extra moisture to swallow along with the extra saliva.

Satisfied, he lowered you back down, nudging you forward gently to rest at the front. You were sitting up to where your back hit his teeth. His tongue stopped trying to taste, settling to lay on your legs like a large weighted blanket. It was analogous to sitting in a chair with a quilt on in the cold winter; the whole gesture was soothing in a way you hadn’t felt for a long time.

In this position, you could see the back of his throat like a dark, looming cave. Maybe if you first met the man, or with anyone else even, knowing you were inside a person that could easily just bite through you would instill you with a sense of fear that froze you in place. You would desperately claw your way out. Let your survival instincts kick in and fight tooth and nail.

In this circumstance, however, you chose to lean your head back and sigh happily. If you focused over his breathing, you could hear him shuffle with papers outside. You couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not with the teeth blocking your view, but you didn’t question if he was also enjoying this. It seemed you both were going to rest like this together until Stanley returned. This whole moment was an understanding. Something special you both were able to share as a form of reassurance, comfort, and trust. And so, you didn’t mind the view or the way you felt saliva pool around your legs. Even when you were inevitably swallowed and sent to his stomach, it would be welcomed knowing you were as close to the Narrator as you could be- where he was content knowing you were safe.

You don’t know how long you closed your eyes, but you were certain you dozed off at some point. The feeling of the Narrator slowly tilting his head back woke you. It was gradual, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to leave. But you didn’t. Rather, you moved to crawl to the back where his throat awaited your entrance. You just wanted to rest.

Finally, you let the gravity take you, letting the muscles of his throat firmly grab you and push you downwards.

It never took long to reach his stomach. He designed his physical form that way, figuring the esophagus squeezing around you was too cramped. You dropped gracelessly into his stomach, swaying with you like a hammock. You were glad no one was here to see the embarrassing sight of you scrambling like a turned over beetle to sit upright, but your host still felt it judging from the way he huffed at the feeling of you frantically moving.

Eventually, you settled in a comfortable position, laying down and sinking into the lining. You felt the walls press against you, one side more firmly- The Narrator pressing a hand on his middle where he knew you were. His simulated heartbeat didn’t falter once above you, a nice white noise that paired with the sound of his organs working around you. It was your cue to fall asleep.

It didn’t come as naturally as you thought it would. It was hard to sleep when you took the time to just relax and enjoy the presence of another all around you. You had to force yourself to close your eyes and count when he inhaled and exhaled. Slowly but surely, your exhaustion came back full force.

Just as you felt your mind go cloudy, you felt the world vibrate around you. Your eyes snapped back open in alarm. It jostled you some, but not enough to force you to move. Even if it did, the hand that was still pressed against you from outside wouldn’t let you move too far.

You heard about this phenomenon once or twice from Stanley when you actually got to see him, but you didn’t really believe him because it hadn’t happened to you yet.

The Narrator was fucking purring.

He probably thought you were already asleep after how tired you were earlier, but he was mistaken and now you knew his (not so terrible) secret. He would never live it down if you told him. Not like you would, afraid he wouldn’t let himself do it again if you let him know you knew. Everything was too much to stay awake though. The heat and humidity made you more tired than you already were. The sounds lull you to sleep like a lullaby. Hopefully you could stay in here for a few hours.

As your consciousness was fading, you could faintly hear the sound of a typewriter clicking slower than usual where he only used one hand. The Narrator was willing to wait for Stanley now, the weight he felt inside him a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

#g/t vore #soft vore #safe vore #tsp vore #nonsexual vore #extreme cuddling #the stanley parables #tspud #voretober 2023 #my writing #believe it or not I am not a Bergamot tea fan #Fruit teas give me a headache #Honey tea all the way #I'm not British but hot tea slaps

25 notes · View notes

legzakimmbo · 6 months

Text

Intoxication - Gainesgoe (Ross Gaines X Joseph Lisgoe)

“How much did you say?”

“Two grand. Two fucking bricks!"

Upon these words, Ross’ glance averted to the three gambling machines shamefully stuck in the corner of the pub. It was easy to tell that the owner wasn’t proud of the purchase. The idea that someone in that meaningless little town would actually want that amount of money (knowing they could never pay it off ; the jobs in Royston Vasey could never suffice) baffled him. Ross pitied the man, but simultaneously, he commended him for having the courage to request that amount from Lisgoe.

The two had crossed paths a few days ago, with thanks to the small sum of money Ross had owed Lisgoe ; Ross was austere and logical, he knew how to handle money, but living in Royston Vasey, you’re bound to owe a debt or two at any given point. And if you weren’t paid a visit by his two incompetent henchmen, you would be visited by Mr Lisgoe himself. And he was much less forgiving than them.

So why was Ross sitting next to him in the pub, surrounded by several empty glasses and an anxious waiter constantly waiting to pour their next drink?

Matter of fact, Lisgoe wondered that as well. Almost every encounter he had with people who wouldn’t cough up on time didn’t end on such a positive note. There must have been something about the brunette man that made him grow a fondness towards him.

Perhaps it was his indifferent nature. Or his abrasiveness upon being demanded so harshly, while others would have probably shit themselves.

The debt collector blamed these uncouth thoughts on his inebriation.

“Do you want me to pay? I wouldn’t mind.”

Ross’ offer was quickly overshadowed by Lisgoe silencing him. “Nah. No need. Poor bastard can’t repay the debt with cash only, so-”

“So you’re taking drinks for free.”

“Shut up! I’m fucking getting there.”

Lisgoe took another sip of the bitter absinthe spirit, wiping away any careless alcohol that beaded at the corners of his mouth. “That skittish cunt almost dragged us down with him, with how much he owed me. This ain’t stealing, Ross. This is the price.”

Ross felt no need to question him further. He was smart enough to understand the other’s logic, but also read his drunken, antsy mood. “Fair enough.”

A brief silence.

“If I knew I could get free drinks from it, I would have become indebted to you a long time ago.”

Lisgoe processed the joke and chuckled hoarsely, running his thumb across the rim of the glass. “Yeah, well, don’t get too cosy. This was just by chance.”

“That so?”

“Mmh.” His confirmation was muffled by another sip. From their conversation, Ross had concluded that this was most definitely not going to be the only time they crossed paths. The mutual feeling of interest was too strong for them to just turn round and not see each other again. And it was definitely not the first time, either ; their prior encounter was rocky. A lot of demanding and shouting ensued from Lisgoe alone. But something must have clearly triggered for the two of them to end up sitting on Ross’ sofa, watching Dexter for what felt like a very fast hour.

Lisgoe wasn’t a shit debt collector. He was just shit with Ross.

“You really confuse me, Ross Gaines.”

“I’m aware.”

-------------------------------

The streets of Royston Vasey that night were weirdly bleak.

The occasional lamppost would emit a luminescent glow onto the quiet shops, and (on the off chance that one would appear) no car would dare sputter its engine and interrupt the tranquillity of 1 in the morning. Would anything dare to do such a thing?

Ross and Lisgoe, apparently.

The two faces, beyond inebriated at that point, stumbled from the doors, catching each other before either took a fall to the pavement.

“Fucking ‘ell,”

The useful input from the debt collector rang through the street, as a pale hand ran through his slicked, black hair. With enough hairspray, it remained intact. The wind was less forgiving on Ross’ hair, however. But somehow, it still looked fine, perhaps even better, if Lisgoe could daresay.

“Can’t drive back like this.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because it’d be illegal.”

“Prissy prick."

“Can’t drive n’nyway. We walked here,” Ross would look about, using Lisgoe’s frame to prevent himself from coming face to face with the pavement. “Barbara’s prolly asleep b’now, as well.”

“Bah. We can walk.”

“Hardly.”

Regardless, they’d try their best to brave the awkward, drunken walk back to their houses. The two would share a sporadic conversation every now and then, but for the most part, they just listened to a deafening silence. The cool breeze complimented the burning intoxication in their throats whilst the wind would numb every speck of exposed skin. It was safe to say that it had been a long time since either of them had experienced such a cold comfort, as the silence indicated that they were revelling in it for as long as they could.

“Joseph.”

Ross looked back up wearily. “Pardon?”

“‘S m’name. Joseph.”

In that moment, Ross was taken aback by the sudden vulnerability being displayed by the hard shell of a man. But it didn’t taint the conversation. Not one bit. “Then I must say, ‘s been good to meetchoo, Joseph.”

Ross’ drunken unintelligibility drew out a raspy laugh from Joseph, who sighed with surprising content as the atmosphere returned to the comfortable silence. Minutes passed, before they stood before the apartment building belonging to the brunette.

“I’m gonnuh’ b’fucking shattered,” Lisgoe managed to spit out groggily, eyeing the complex behind them briefly. Ross pondered for a moment ; he had no idea whether it was the alcohol talking, but regardless, the next thought he had escaped his lips.

“You cuhn’ stay f’the night. On the sofa. F’you’d like.”

“Course not, fucking Mother Teresa.”

Ah.

For the first time that night, he must have misread him.

Rather than feeling embarrassed, he instead felt an appreciation for his erratic nature. A feeling which completely clouded his intoxicated mind.

As Lisgoe began to trudge off, the brunette spoke up again.

“This wonh’ be our lass encounter. Y’know that, don’ you?”

He stopped for a moment and glanced back with a mere shrug. “S’ppose yer right.”

They were both drunk. Equally drunk. But there was a tang to his response that felt very much genuine, as much as sober Lisgoe would have hated it.

No goodbyes were shared. No farewells were bid. But perhaps it was because it just wasn’t necessary.

It felt… good. For a change.

Ross exhaled deeply, as if he had forgotten to breathe for a moment, before withdrawing into the apartment.

----------

first time writing in ages!!

quite chuffed with it actually, might write some more of them. take both art pieces I've done of them so far too

#reece shearsmith #joseph lisgoe #gainesgoe #ross gaines #the league of gentlemen #writing #the league of gents #league of gentlemen writing #fanfic #gainesgoe fanfic #I love them sm im not normal

30 notes · View notes

tallulah477 · 6 months

Note

loving how fleshed out this royalty au is getting KFNFNFDN and see i cant be descriptive like u my brain cant do all that LMFAO i love ur writing style for this and overall

but oml i imagine their first time would be after a heated argument its midnight everyone but the guards and a few employees are asleep and here loak and princess!reader are having a huge argument (basically a lot of confessing of how they both didnt want this marriage to be a thing stuff like that) and theres a quick pause between them bc theyre catching their breaths from arguing sm and they just start full on making out though princess!reader is super inexperienced and os trying to keep up with loak whose had a few one night stands here and there

loak telling her how pretty she looks pissed off at him (and everyone), how no one would put up with her attitude (not even neteyam) but him bc he finds it hot lw — meanwhile her brain is malfunctioning bc hes touching her everywhere and its getting her all hot

and when they do start fucking? as much as i would like for him to be put in her place for being a brat i 100% believe he would be super soft (yet still dominate) their first time, loak who already has had a few ons and is usually just there to fuck and dip actually takes his time with his future wife

eating her out, fingering her trying to stretch her out to fit him while his other hand was on her stomache to pin her down and shes covering her mouth so they wont get caught

and when he puts it in he goes slow, watching her reaction, kissing her temple, cheeks, eyelids anywhere saying shes taking him so well, how she was made for him, how he cant wait to have more nights like this with her - lots of praises which she cant handle bc shes not use too it and shes getting all flustered as shes getting fucked lol her nails digging into his forearms or going down his back - her eyes rolling to the back if her head bc he feels so good and so full

and loak making out with her so she wont moan too loud (he doesnt really care if they caught but she knows her reputation within high society is kind of bad so anything to avoid a scandal for his future wife <333)

— 🤍

The way this past week has kept me so busy and all I could think about was your asks 😩 😩 😩

Me too, babes! I’m living for this AU lmao. Idk though, you seem like you’re doing a great job at being descriptive 👀 but I’m glad that you’re liking my input. I think we make a good team!

Everyone knows you’re the mastermind behind this AU though, I’m just here for the ride lol 🧡

Catch up on the story:

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Extra: One | Two

CW:// Smut

Their emotions are so high!

This has been a long time coming - it's been nearly a year of back and forth. Nearly a year of glaring, of snide comments and sneering remarks as they're forced together 'for the good of the kingdom'. Nearly a year of heated arguments and even more heated glances that catch on the a long column of throat or the swell of a breast.

It's getting close to that time when Jake and Neytiri are set to step down from the throne. Both Lo'ak and Princess are old enough to take their place. Princess has been trained her whole life for this, she's ready - knows the ins and outs of royal life and how to handle foreign dignitaries and council issues without even having to bat her perfectly curled eyelashes. Lo'ak, on the other hand . . . well, he's good enough. He still learning; it will take YEARS for him to fully learn everything that Neteyam had been taught to do and handle since the moment he was born. But he's getting there - he's much smarter and more capable than his parents or Princess ever give him credit for.

But it's still intense. Nerves are getting the better of them, their anxiety is through the roof. The stress that they're going to fuck up somehow is making them worried and frustrated and they're snapping at each other even more than usual. If Lo'ak messes up, it's going to be proof to him and his parents (and the entire kingdom) that he will never be as good as his brother, and he hates that he can't even go one day without being compared to Neteyam. If Princess messes up, her life is over. Lo'ak would be upset if he messed up, but he would be okay. But she's a woman, and worse - she's a woman trying to maintain a position of power. She already has people rooting for her to fail. If this goes south for her, just one mess up, and she's done.

So they're both not feeling their best when they return to their rooms after their official engagement ball. They were paraded around, told to be quiet, to stick to the speeches written for them, to "Smile, for God's sake! Can you at least act like you like each other?"

The were forced to roam the ballroom, arm and arm, large smiles plastered on their faces as they talk to important person after important person, answering the same questions over and over and over again.

"Are you excited? You should feel very blessed,"

"How do you feel stepping into your brother's shoes?"

"Have you heard from Prince Neteyam at all?"

"Is it true he ran away with a maid?"

"How long after your marriage and coronation can we expect an heir?"

They danced together, bodies moving to the rhythm of the perfectly performed orchestra as they twirl together almost seamlessly across the shiny ballroom floor. Their eyes don't leave each other as they dance, spinning to the music and seeming to notice nothing else around them except for each other before the coda plays and the dance comes to an end. They bow and curtsey respectively, eyes narrowing briefly at the other as they both try to push the annoying thought of how effortless the entire piece was and what that might signify.

Lo'ak's not in his room for five minutes when a knock on the door sounds. He's still in his fancy clothes, and the only thing he's managed to remove is his waistcoat. He's still working on unbuttoning his ruffled shirt when Princess's maid enters his bedchamber.

"My Prince, my Princess is requesting your presence,"

Lo'ak frowns. "For what?"

"She would like to discuss with you some matters regarding tomorrow's meeting with the council members,"

"No," Lo'ak scoffs. "I'm tired. We can talk tomorrow."

The older woman nods, understanding. "Yes, my Prince. However, my Lady does want me to insist and remind you that she has been training for this life far longer than you have and it is within your best interest to heed her suggestions,"

Lo'ak's hands drop from his shirt, a deep growl bursting from his throat at the slight coming from an infuriating girl currently located across the castle. He barrels past the maid, cutting through hallways until he's outside Princess's door. His knock is rough and angry, and she's still in her ball gown when she answers, a small smirk playing at her lips with a cocky, "Oh, good. You're here,"

"You summoned me?"

She has about two seconds to gloat and take pride in his pissed off expression before he's yelling at her. Harsh words spill from his lips - "you're a spoiled brat" "you're nothing without me" "You wouldn't have this chance anymore since Neteyam left if not for me,". The words aren't new, he's said them before - but this time they hit harder, and her carefully crafted visage of complete emotional stability and self control come crumbling down around them.

She's yelling at him back, interrupting his scathing words and spitting her own about how he'll never be like his brother, how if she leaves then it will be on him to look as a failure in front of his father, how she doesn't even want this marriage, never wanted it, but she has to if she ever wants any kind of a life.

They're both breathing heavy when the yelling stops, glaring daggers at each other as they try to calm their breathing. She can't help when her eyes trail down to his torso, taking in the fully unbuttoned shirt hanging open around his muscular chest, mixed metal necklaces contrasting nicely against his dark skin. His eyes are on her too, locked onto the soft swell of her breasts heaving in the tight corset top of her dress.

It's pure instinct as they come together, neither one making the active decision to lunge forward and press their lips together. Yet, here they are - in the middle of the quiet hallway, Lo'ak gripping Princess's face in his hands as her own latch onto the strong muscles of his arms through his frilly shirt.

Lo'ak's mouth on hers is sure and practiced, moving against hers with the expertise of someone who has had his fair share of women. He licks at the seam of her own trembling lips, letting out a soft breath at the shaky moan he receives for his efforts and bites gently at her plump bottom lip.

Princess's head is reeling, nervousness and desire pooling in her chest and making her shake against him. She doesn't know what she's doing, and it shows through her inexperience as she desperately tries to keep up with Lo'ak as his tongue curls against hers. And, despite the heated screaming match that brought them to this point, he's surprisingly gentle with her.

It's only when they part, just enough for them to breath, that Princess realizes they're now alone in her room. At some point during their kissing, Lo'ak must have walked them in and closed the door behind them, shielding them from any prying eyes who may have stumbled upon them even in the dead of night. She feels something build in her heart at the realization he did it for her.

She doesn't expect to lose her virginity that night. She always thought it would happen on her wedding day and even then it would be something that she has to do - an obligation that comes with the role of a future Queen. She's never wanted someone like that before.

But here with Lo'ak, it's different. He's looking at her, head tilted down as she stares up at him, his dark eyes boring into hers so dark she can practically see her own flushed reflection starting back at her. And she wants.

And then they're kissing again, slow and gentle and oh so good. Her hands slide up the flat planes of his stomach, fingertips caressing the soft skin so lightly as she drags them up and around that they tickle his ribs. His hands are back on her face, large palms cradling her cheeks, thumbs dragging slowly under her eyes as she sighs into his mouth.

Without thinking, her hands push off his opened shirt, sliding the fabric from his shoulders. His lips move down to her neck, kissing at the delicate skin and sucking on her hammering pulse point as she gasps. His hands move to the back of her dress, playing with the zigzagging ties and loosening them up with skilled fingers. She holds her breath as her dress slides off, self-consciously avoiding Lo'ak's gaze as he marvels at her naked body.

"You're so beautiful," He whispers, breathless, and she knows he means it.

He prepares her properly, like a true gentleman. Licking up her juices as he eats her out, sucking on her clit to hear her pretty moans but biting on her thigh in reprimand when she gets too loud. His tongue dips inside her and her thighs squeeze his head as she shoves her hand over her own mouth in an effort to quiet herself.

He makes her cum twice before he even gets his pants off. Once on his tongue, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste of her orgasm, and once on his fingers, carefully pushing them into her drenched cunt, mindful of the fact that she's nervous and definitely hasn't done this before. His fingers curl inside her, thumb playing with her clit as he stretches her out to take his cock, whispering sweet praises in her ear about how perfect she is, how she's so fucking beautiful when she's angry and how hot he gets for her when she's pissed at him.

And when he pushes inside her, groaning in pleasure at the feel of her wet, warm walls hugging his cock, he kisses the tears from her face and praises her more. He tells her how he's dreamed about her, how she's doing such a good job, being such a good girl for him and taking him so well. He starts up a slow tempo, a gentle rocking of his hips against hers as he moves inside her, cock dragging against her gummy walls as she whines and moans, nails digging into his back as she tries to pull him even closer, overwhelmed by the very feel of him. She feels so good, so full - so so full. His cock is so deep inside her, rubbing a special spot inside her that she didn't know she had but makes her see stars.

"You wouldn't have been happy with Neteyam," He moans, and he shocks himself with how quickly the realization hits him. "You were made for me,"

(HELP the way this is long enough to be an actual fic lmao)

(Side note: what does lw mean?? Cannot for the life of me figure it out 😂)

#talie talks ♡#🤍 anon #royalty au

26 notes · View notes

thesteriuswife · 4 months

Text

Dance of Our Nature (1/2)

Summary: Theseus, former King of Athens, brings Asterius to the blessed fields. While there, he meets someone very dear to the king.

Notes: Originally a fic about Theseus n Asterius I scrapped due to it feeling too aimless 💔 I took my favourite chapter and reworked it so I could put Dianthus in it too :~) I didn’t do any major edits cuz I’m kind of tired of working on this so be nice….

There’s some background info established in the sort of “prequel” fic to this, but I’m not sure if I want to link it here… but it shouldn’t too hard to understand without that context.

~2878 words. Contains Theseus fishing for compliments and being generally so cringe and fail, awkward first interactions, fruit eating, and Asterius trying to remember that he’s just as much as a man as he is a bull.

No particular warnings as far as I can think, but Theseus and Asterius do have a little bit of an unbalanced dynamic so early on into their relationship. They’ll work on it as time goes on, of course!

🎵: Cicada | Here We Are!

Theseus was not what the Minotaur would have expected a king to be like. Some of the traits he remembered from his short time spent on the surface were there: Theseus was imposing when he wanted to be, his voice could fill a room, and despite his small height the way he presented himself made him seem almost god-like in stature. He was the king who unified Athens, famed for being fair and honorable even to those who too had been cursed by gods. Such nobility could only be afforded to one such as himself, who was scholar, leader, and warrior alike.

Despite all this, Asterius realized that Theseus was still only human. And because he was only human, Theseus was also clumsy, teetering on the side of accident prone: several times now he had managed to fall over nothing, or nearly trip (again!) into one of the underworld’s many river branches, or even get distracted by his own dramatic speeches and end up walking face first into a pillar. (Theseus attempted with great gusto to pretend that he intentionally smashed his face in, so that the bull may watch as he seductively wiped away the blood from his injury. Unfortunately for the king he was wincing in pain all the while, and instead looked more silly than anything else.) Asterius also noticed how Theseus struggled to focus on anything other than what interested him at the moment. What interested him right now was Asterius himself, and seemingly only that, for each time the bull spoke in an attempt to direct Theseus’ attention elsewhere it took the king some time to even realize that something had been said, and even then his reply would be short and distracted. Immediately after he finished talking he would return to simply gazing at Asterius’ face with some unidentifiable emotion, or stroking his large biceps with a curious hand. When he did wish to talk, however, Theseus could easily hold entire conversations by himself. It was charming in its own way, and only slightly grating. “…And that is why I despise my cousin Menetheus!” Theseus finished his story with a grand gesture, exasperation clear in his voice. Asterius paid close attention, half out of genuine curiosity, and half out of having nothing better to do. “Such an insufferable cur was undeserving of the title of king! Don’t you agree, Dear Asterius?”

Asterius nodded in response. He’d not spoken much during the duration of this journey— he wasn’t quite sure what to say in this strange situation he’d somehow ended up in, and the king already spoke so much on his own. It felt almost unnecessary to make any further additions…

Still, Theseus gave him an almost expectant look just now, as if he were waiting for input.

“You were… much better suited for the role than he.” said Asterius with uncertainty. He did not have much experience with complimenting people, and that was clearly what Theseus’ sought. “You were Athens’ greatest king, certainly.”

Despite his stunted words, Theseus still beamed brightly with a smile, and gave Asterius’ hand a tight squeeze. “How kind of you to say, my friend! And I must say I agree! There is none other than myself who is more suited for the role of— ah, hold a moment. I believe we have reached our destination! And here I’d been expecting more of a challenge in reaching our shared goal! Bah!” “Yes,” Asterius agreed, neglecting to bring up how the many ways Theseus accidentally hurt himself during their journey together were certainly a challenge in their own right. Together they stood before a large gate, its metal slightly browned with age. Asterius could swear there was something massive swimming beneath the water nearby, but Theseus seemed not to be concerned by it, and so Asterius would choose to ignore it as well. When met with Theseus’ touch, the gate lifted with a groan, allowing them both to enter a small rest area. Asterius took a moment to brush ash out of his fur; how strange that, despite Asphodel being a land of clear waters and ordinary scruffy grass, embers floated in the air. Once he’d finished, he found Theseus waiting at the other end of the corridor, waiting patiently to be rejoined by his companion. (Or rather, as patiently as he was capable of. While he made no push to rush Asterius, his casually leaning against the door did not make the tapping of his foot go unnoticed.) “Are you ready, Asterius? Here is where your new life shall begin! You shall finally have a chance to live as a prince should! Aha, such a thing must be nerve-wracking for you. But fear not, my friend! I shall support you every step of the way!” Asterius snorted in response; he was beginning to realize Theseus had a habit of announcing his own emotions, but would never attribute them to himself. The king was surely nervous, but it was much easier to say that Asterius was the nervous one. But the bull saw no reason to complain about such a thing, and thus did not mention it. He wouldn’t have had time to regardless, not with Theseus opening the final gate, and the blessed fields being within reach.

“Here we are!” To Asterius’ surprise, the gate opened to a small copse of trees. Theseus stepped out first, fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet. “There is someone here expecting us! Let us not keep her waiting for longer than we already have, yes?”

Asterius in turn poked his head out… The breeze was the first thing he noticed, cool and refreshing, gentle against his fur. Then, the scent… fresh and green, but also slightly sweet, like fruit being carried on the wind. He felt nearly enticed to follow the direction of it.

He stepped out behind Theseus, and was nearly startled at the sound of twigs and dried leaves being crushed beneath his weight. The sound was foreign to him… could he be blamed if he wanted to kick his legs against the ground, and see what other interesting noises could be made?

Soon, Asterius allowed the strange king to gently guide him forward. It took both of Theseus’ hands to be able to fully wrap around one of the bull’s wrists… it was strange realizing that the man who stood so large within his memory was so small in reality. It was strange to be continuing on in silence, but Asterius was certain that even if Theseus had spoken, he would not have heard him. The new sights and sounds around him were too much of a distraction, nearly to the point of making him dizzy. “Now, where could she be… ah!” Across the distant fields, Asterius could just barely make out a woman decked out in bright pink, sitting upon a marble bench beneath a flower-covered trellis. She seemed to notice them first, and stood. Upon seeing this, Theseus released Asterius’ hand, and bounded down to meet with her. “Ah, my lady! How I’ve missed you!” (At this distance it should have been difficult to make out the king’s words. But Asterius’ hearing was very good, and Theseus himself was very, very loud.) “I told you I would return, did I not? Let this be a lesson to you, my lady, that I am a man of my words!” Asterius watched as Theseus lifted the girl into his arms with ease, and she erupted into warm laughter in response. He kissed against her jaw once, then again, then against her cheek, and soon the girl’s laughter turned to squealing. Asterius’ chest felt tight at their affection— he didn’t know why. “Asterius, dear bull!” Though reluctant, he returned the girl to her feet, but not before giving her a final kiss upon her forehead. “I would like you to meet Lady Dianthus of Oenoe, my… erm. Ahem. A-anyways! It was with her help that I was able to bring you here to the blessed fields. You must be curious as to how that happened, hmm? Allow me to start from the beginning! Some great many years ago, I…” “Theseus, I don’t imagine your bull-friend would want to hear about that right now! He’s probably tired, and you should be too! Besides, I didn’t do anything that impressive…” the girl waved her hand dismissively, causing Theseus to gasp rather dramatically. “Ah, my lady is far too modest! To reason with the gods themselves is impressive indeed.” Theseus squeezed the girl’s hand. For a moment, his typical cocky expression faded into something warm and soft. He brought her hand up to his lips, for a kiss. “And you have done both Asterius, and myself, a great kindness.” The girl pouted in an almost childish fashion, though her cheeks did darken at Theseus’ gesture. Instead of trying to further combat the king’s words, she turned her attention elsewhere. “It is… nice to meet you, Asterius.” Her voice was soft, but did not hold the nervousness Asterius would have expected from one who was laying eyes upon The Minotaur for the first time. Asterius nodded.

"Now, let us celebrate this victory! Asterius, my dear friend, stay here a moment with the lady. I shall return quicker than any bolt of Zeus!” Theseus rushed off before either could ask just what it was he intended to do, though Asterius had an inkling it would be something indulgent, as the king seemed to value pleasure above all else. He turned his attention to the girl before him. She was small, Asterius noted, but not much smaller than the king himself. Her long hair was covered in a variety of spring flowers and green vines, connecting to a halo of fresh fruit. He watched closely as the small bud of a flower bloomed open, just as another near it took its final breath, and fell to the ground below. He supposed she was like his mother in that regard; a nymph, but only in part. “Asterius…?” The bull nearly jolted, suddenly hearing his name. He had been starring, he now realized, though he hadn’t intended to. “You seem awfully meek for someone of your reputation, you know. Ah, but that’s not what I wanted to say… what I mean is, you don’t need to be just standing there. Come sit next to me- if you’d like to, that is.”

Her voice became quieter with every word, as if she was concerned she might’ve said something offensive. Not that Asterius would have particularly cared either way. “I will take you up on your offer,“ Asterius replied, "thank you.”

Here was a nook buried deeply within a section of trees, their branches bent over a trellis so they’d form an arch. It was shady, but Asterius could still easily see the world beyond. He gazed first outwards, observing the sounds and sights of Elysium’s nature; the rush of a waterfall, the songs of birds. Then, again to Dianthus. With her fine clothing and jewelry Asterius might have thought of her as a noblewoman, but her poise was at odds with what he remembered of the few court women he saw in life, with her legs open and her shoulders casually rolled back. “So, what do you think?” she asked, “Is Elysium everything you assumed it would be?” Asterius titled his head. “A shade once told me the trees here grow fruit of gold. A ridiculous story.” “It is ridiculous. If the trees here really bore gold instead of fruit, us shades would have no fresh produce to eat! Or at the very least, no fruit.” she hummed, clearly amused at the story. “The shades here value their ability to indulge in whatever treats they desire! Even Theseus is no exception.” Asterius thought of his time in Erebus, and how a determined Theseus once braved the very depths of the underworld with the sole goal of sharing a basket of fresh bread from one of Elysium’s bakeries. “True,” he sighed. The girl, he noted, did not use Theseus’ title when talking about him. A sign of disrespect coming from others, but the way she spoke implied she’d known him for quite some time, and therefore was simply used to referring to him casually. Still, Asterius struggled to trust his own instincts, and so he asked: “Are you very close to the king?” “Oh! Well, that is… complicated. It isn’t a very interesting story, either.” Uncertainty into her voice, or maybe, she was just shy. Asterius did not want to push her, and yet… “I would be interested,” he admitted. Not knowing how to reassure her, Asterius copied what he saw Theseus do earlier, and took one of her small hands within his own as gently as he could manage. Unlike the king, whose hands were calloused after centuries of battle, hers with soft to the touch. “It’s not very interesting,” she repeated, her voice now softer, “and it is very long. You’d probably get bored listening to me ramble!” I’m interested in listening. I’m interested in you, he wanted to say, but he could not help but feel as if such words would be unwelcome. And so he fell silent, the lady’s hand still held within his own, peacefully watching out over the wide expanse of nature before him. So focused on the peacefulness of the nature before him, he nearly did not hear Theseus calling out “Bull of Minos! My dear maiden! I have returned t— oof!!” Asterius and Dianthus watched as an over excited King Theseus tripped and fell face first on Elysium’s soft grass. Before either could react, he was quick to stand back up, brush off his chiton, and grumble a curse under his breath. Slowly, he continued his way towards them. “Asterius, Dianthus,” he said, out of breath, “I have brought with me a gift!” Theseus lifted the pack he’d brought with himself into Erebus, and slowly loosened the drawstring. When Asterius peered over, he saw that its contents had now been entirely replaced with freshly plucked fruit. “Theseus! If you wanted to pick fruit, you could have asked me to bring a basket.” “Pshaw! Such a thing is unnecessary for one such as myself! And besides, this gift is, eh… rather spur of the moment?” Theseus replied with a huff, “Here, Noble Asterius! This is for you.”

Theseus pressed a fruit into Asterius’ hand, some small red-and-purple berry with a unique texture. He did not eat straight away. Instead he stared at Theseus’ finger tips, dyed purple by the berries. He watched as Theseus, noticing the excess syrup, brought his hand to his mouth to clean. (“Oh, nasty! Go wash your hands in the Lethe or somethin’.” Dianthus huffed, before doing much the same after grabbing a berry of her own.)

The bull eyed the fruit with curiosity- the same sweet scent that had carried on the wind earlier again filled his senses, but much more intensely this time.

Curious, he first brushed his tongue against the fruit. To his surprise, it was just as tart as it was sweet. The taste reminded him of the way the forest smelled, thick and woody and warmed by the light of Ixion.

“Do you like it? Mulberries were my mother’s favourite fruit! A large tree of them stood sturdy by my childhood home, so I’ve become an expert at identifying when they are at their ripest and most delicious!"

"It’s good…"

"They’re rich in antioxidants, you know.” Dianthus added between handfuls of berries, “Good for your health!”

“What the hell is an antioxidant,“ Asterius replied.

When Dianthus pouted, Theseus tensed for a moment… then erupted into howling laughter, nearly falling over yet again in the process.

"What’s funny?”

“I apologize, my companion! I was merely surprised to hear you speak in such a way!!”

The king stifled his laughter, covering his mouth with a hand. “Now, scoot over, my friend!“ "Hmm?” Asterius shifted to the side, but was surprised when Theseus settled between himself and Lady Dianthus, so close that their shoulders were together (or as together as they could be- even while sitting, Asterius was much taller than them both).

Theseus held his berry-filled pack in his lap, their vibrant colours dying the fabric in an array of deep purple-red hues. Each berry was plump and ripe and looked utterly delicious- Asterius couldn’t help but to gather a number of them in his hand, despite the way that they made his fur sticky.

There was something deeply pleasant about this togetherness, Asterius found. He did not have much experience with companionship, and yet he found the warmth of it enchanting. Dianthus continued to scold Theseus for his impulsiveness, but at the very same time plucking fresh fruit from where he held it in his lap, which in turn makes Theseus laugh unflatteringly. It was a strange feeling. He was used to being out of place in the world. He never thought it would be possible for another to look at him as anything other than a monster. But here he’d been shown kindness… He didn’t know if things would be able to last this way, but for now…

He was more than happy to indulge in the new pleasures Elysium had already given him.

~ Authour’s Notes Mulberries are featured in the myth of one of Asterius’ siblings, his baby brother Glaucus… they’re used to solve a riddle regarding something that changes from white to black to red. I have a fic with Glaucus as a character in the works as well :~)

For those who have never played Hades; Asphodel was once an ordinary grassy land, but the river Pheleghton flooded over and into it, turning it into a Lava World. I like to think Theseus came and got Asterius from Erebus before this happened! Also the hydra guards the gate exiting from Asphodel into Elysium (but didn’t bother Theseus because Theseus has “”Special Clearance”” aka the thang just didn’t really see him as much of a threat)

#📚 codex #🌺👑🐂 love in idleness #posting that song made me wanna repost this fic over here </3 #maybe ill finally finish the second chapter..... meanwhile ill put it up on my neocities while im at it

6 notes · View notes

darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght · 30 days

Text

Chapter 15- Part 3

Well, now I just have the image of Xera in the Family Guy death pose while unconscious in the cage, which is funny enough to make me feel a little better about these circumstances.

Sometimes I love when the player character acts without my input- Xera moving towards Fern like that in response to his taunting? That was all cutscene stuff, that was Xera, that anger and annoyance was real.

I’m…not sure what to comment on first- Fern’s overwhelming pettiness or the fact that the game actually gives you the option to do what he says.

As curious as I am to see what would happen if you accept, it’s much more in-line with Xera’s character to be defiant.

WHAT THE- HE ACTUALLY LEFT??? He actually left! He is actually just leaving her in there! I…I feel like I should be upset, but I’m honestly kinda impressed? The sheer audacity of just leaving the protagonist in a trap like that- now that’s a power move if I’ve ever seen one.

But let’s see- where are Xera’s Pokémon? The Nuzleaf didn’t take them, did they?

Oh good, they’re still there. Does that mean we can use Cut on the cage?

Or…not. I’m moving around and clicking on everything, but nothing’s coming up. Are you seriously telling me Cut won’t do anything here? On these tiny, thin sticks? I can’t use the Pokémon in any way here?? Caldera can burn right through this with just her-

…Hello, birb? What’s this cutscene about, now?

Hey- hey, it’s hopping onto the switch! Hey now, hey-

…Cool??? Thanks, random Chatot??? Random Chatot that was apparently specifically commanded to free Xera, somehow??

…Hey, wait- Taka mentioned going to Rhodochrine Jungle…and he used a Chatot…and he seems to be not entirely on Team Meteor’s side to some extent…

Was that Taka’s Chatot??? Why else would a Chatot have been used here? That’s a very specific Pokémon to use!

Oh yeah, and the switches can be interacted with, I guess- good to know in case we need to open or close any cages in the future. Now that Xera’s free, time for exploration and to find out where the heck in the jungle we are!

Hidden items galore! Maybe it’s the game apologizing for Xera being thrown into two cages in the span of two minutes. …Why did the Nuzleaf change which cage she was in, anyways-?

Huh!? Cain!? What in the world is he doing here!? I thought he was doing stuff in that wasteland place! How’d he end up trapped here??

Yeah, I could say the same thing for you, buddy!

That’s not true, you made that up for notes.

Oh- that’s…actually very nice of him! What a pleasant surprise, no complaining there!

Though, speaking of Victoria- is she being held captive here in Rhodochrine? There certainly seem to be enough cages to go around…

#pokemon reborn #pokemon reborn spoilers #pokemon fan game #pokemon reborn screenshot let's play

3 notes · View notes

solar-siren · 1 year

Text

Angstpril Day Eight: Mind Games

“You might as well give up,” Dyson says, scrolling through Tron’s code. “You’re only making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Traitor,” Tron hisses. He tries to arch off the board he’s bound to, but the restraints hold. His lightlines flicker between orange and blue. Despite severe energy loss and a virus running rampant through his code, he’s still too stubborn to turn.

“No,” Dyson says, almost gently. “I’m not your enemy. You’re just confused.”

Another program steps out of the shadows behind him, washing the room in golden light.

“We’re going to help you,” the Luminary smiles. Tron glares at them both despite the fear he feels. He knows what happens next. He’s been through this before.

Most of it.

He braces himself as best he can, tries to shield himself with truths and important memories. Important people.

With Clu standing before him, the first that comes to mind is Flynn.

Flynn was his friend, one of the first he ever had. Flynn saved him, fought beside him on the ENCOM system. He risked his life to help Tron defeat the MCP—

And stole him away from his home. Dropped him on a system where his function was moot. Separated him from his User. Left him to fight battles he wasn’t designed for, always waiting for a Creator who rarely deigned to appear. Tron had given his life for Flynn, and Flynn ran, left him there to die alone—

“Lies,” Tron says.

“Really?” Clu frowns, stepping closer. “Which part?

“Did the two of you have some kind of reunion I don’t know about? Did he aid your little rebellion? Did he even look for you after you bought him time to escape?” Tron stares at a circuit line on the wall. “No? I didn’t think so,” Clu says. He sighs as he steps back. “There’s no point in fighting, Tron. Everyone you care about either died or left you behind.”

“No.” He knows that isn’t true. Beck and Yori escaped. They ran like he told them to.

And they almost made it, but he was faster. The corruption had already set in by the time he warned them. Their backs were turned when he threw the first disc. The beta didn’t even have time to scream before he crumbled to cubes. Yori stopped running, turned to look at him with such horror in her eyes—

“That’s not real,” Tron says. His voice is mostly level.

He knows that’s a false memory. He remembers Beck and Yori getting away. Remembers the satisfaction that came with the pain, knowing he would never see them again but that they would be far beyond Clu’s grasp.

“Who are you trying to convince?” the Admin asks. “It’s understandable that you’d be in denial. But you have to face the truth at some point.” He smiles blithely. “I’m sure they would forgive you.”

Yori had said as much, hadn’t she? When he backed her against a wall, his disc at her throat. When begging didn’t work (“Tron, please. Come back to me. Don’t do this. Please"), and she knew she was going to die, she somehow managed to smile and say she forgave him. And then he pressed in closer and she screamed—

“Stop!”

He thrashes, unaware that he’s doing it. If he had his disc he’d shut his audio inputs off. That sound is the most terrible thing he’s ever heard, and it keeps getting louder, Yori screaming in agony he caused—

It stops. Tron gasps for air, shaking. The sound is gone for now but he remembers—will never be rid of the memory. Clu watches him with something like pity. Dyson’s hand still hovers over the interface of his disc.

“I didn’t,” Tron says, but already the certainty is gone. Clu frowns.

“Why would I lie to you?” he asks. Tron blinks. The question seems genuine enough.

“Because–” he starts, but the thought is gone before he can finish it. What is wrong with him?

“You’re broken, Tron,” Clu says gently. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt Yori. It isn’t your fault. I only want to help you before you hurt anyone else.”

“Flynn,” Tron says. Flynn could bring Yori back. Flynn could fix him. Flynn should be here.

“Flynn left us.” For a nano Clu’s eyes glint, but then he’s smiling again. “You don’t need him. You have me now.

“And I’m going to make you perfect.”

#angstpril2023 #tron #tron legacy #tron uprising #fanfiction #day8 #mind games #clu #clu 2 #dyson #ren writes

9 notes · View notes

theoreticslut · 2 years

Text

「 bonfires, blankets, & s’mores 」

loki laufeyson x fem reader

summary: where bonfires in the waning warmth of autumn, a string of burnt marshmallows, and an unusual display of care brings you and loki closer together.

requested: no

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

a/n: i had originally planned to post this back in october as a fictober type of thing, but we see how well that turned out. i think i’ve only posted one other loki fic to date so hopefully this is decent. as much as i love him, i don’t feel like i write him very well :/ this is definitely a softer side of him, but i hope you still like it! pls let me know! happy reading ♥

“But it’s so coooold.” You practically whine as you shiver in your seat.

“C’mon y/n, it’s not that bad.” Tony states, slightly rolling his eyes and chuckling at you.

The team had been hanging out around the tower the last week or so and they were all getting antsy apparently. They’ve somehow decided that a bonfire would be a great idea, even though it’s only been up in the 60s during the day.

“Even if it is cold, there’ll be a fire. Just scoot as close as you can for the warmth.” Nat states as if it’s obvious.

You pout, knowing she’s not wrong, but not liking the answer.

“Do any of you even know how to start a fire though?”

“Y/n…most of us have had at least some basics in survival training. You know that right?” She questions.

“No…look at how often I’ve ever actually seen any of you use them.” You quip, pouting as you realize there’ll be a bonfire regardless of your input.

~.~

You pout slightly as you try to pull your jacket even tighter around you in the evening air. Of course they all had to wait until dusk to even start the fire. How were none of them cold? It had to be in the low fifties right now if not colder.

As the fire slowly starts to build, you can’t help but let a smile fill your face. You can barely wait until you can sit in front of it, trying to gather any ounce of warmth it could provide.

“We’re back!” You hear someone bellow from the house. Without even looking you know it’s Thor. No one else is naturally that loud and happy, aside from maybe peter.

What you didn’t expect, however, was Loki to be with him. Loki never really cared for team gatherings like this, finding them more annoying than anything, which you can’t blame him for. Not when the avenger’s imprisoned him the first time they all met.

You were glad to see him though. You’ve have a bit of a soft spot for the mischievous god, and anytime he’s around is bound to be interesting.

You watch as Thor confidently makes his way towards the group of you, but your eyes are focused on Loki trailing behind him, looking annoyed as always until his eyes land on you.

“Hey, guys.” You smile and wave lightly, greeting the two gods.

“Y/n! Nice to see you again, friend.” Thor beams, pulling you up into a tight hug before you even realize it.

“Put her down, brother. You’re suffocating the poor maiden.” Loki states, seemingly bored by his brother’s personality.

Thor only laughs as he places you back on your own two feet. He, of course, checks you over to make sure he didn’t hurt you before playing it off.

“Sorry, y/n. I just got a little excited I suppose. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s alright. Just…give me a warning next time.” You chuckle, absentmindedly pulling your jacket around you tighter as a slight breeze rolls through.

“Are you alright? You’re shivering.” He asks, his brows furrowing deeply in concern.

You nod, smiling to help convince him. Even though you’re frozen to your very core, you’d rather just bear with it instead of let anyone think you're weak or overdramatic.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

He starts to frown, but before he can say anything Steve is calling to him. You smile as you find him looking rather conflicted. You can tell that he wants to make sure you’re alright, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave Steve waiting.

“I’m good, Thor. I promise.” You convince.

“Alright, y/n. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Of course.” You chuckle, subtly hinting for him to go.

He nods, eyes lingering on you a moment more before he’s heading off in Steve’s direction. Sighing in slight relief, you can’t help but let a small frown take over your features as another breeze of cold air rolls through you.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Loki states from beside you.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, turning towards the raven-haired man.

“You are clearly not fine. Look at you, you’re practically shaking from the cold.”

“Did I not say I was cold? I don’t think you can consider me a liar if I did, loki.” You slightly tease.

“But you said - promised - that you’re fine. You’re clearly not.” He scoffs, conjuring a blanket for you before you can protest.

“Loki, I’m alright. I swear. A little cold air is not going to kill me. Soon as the fire is built up I’ll go warm up next to it.”

“You’re absolutely right that you will be, but for now you’ll take this blanket and bundle up.” He states, as serious as ever.

He drapes the material over your shoulders and you can’t deny that it’s warm - much warmer than just your jacket.

“Thank you, but you didn’t need to do that.” You smile shyly.

“I know I didn’t, but you don’t need to get sick from the cold.” He deadpans, subtly ending the topic there.

He may not always be the kindest person, but he has a bit of a soft spot for you, too. How could he not when you’ve never treated him with anything but kindness? Not to mention you’re rather adorable without even trying, & he’s definitely not blind.

“Well, thank you.” You murmur, not quite sure what to do with this kindness.

“Of course. Now let’s get you closer to the fire.” He encourages, subtly directing the both of you towards the rest of the avengers seated around the flames with his hand on the small of your back.

~.~

“Brother, I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to look.” Thor states, looking at the mostly burnt marshmallow Loki had been trying to toast.

“I see that.” Loki grumbles, frowning - and pouting - ever so lightly as he fails yet again at toasting a marshmallow for a s’more.

Sitting beside him, you can’t help but chuckle as he only continues to burn the poor treat. Within the last five minutes you swear he’s burned more marshmallows than he could ever eat just to make one s’more. He hasn’t bothered asking for help though, so you’ve let him continue on his own.

“Let me help.” You sigh, smiling lightly as you take the toasting stick from him, finally taking pity on the man.

He watches you, as do the others, as you clean off the burnt mess he made before sliding another marshmallow onto the stick. Only Loki, though, studies how you simply hover the treat over the flame, continuously rotating the stick.

“You make this look easy.” He sighs.

“I’ve toasted a lot of marshmallows.” You state, glancing over at him as he continues watching you.

“Making s’mores is one of my favourite things to do, though I prefer them during the summer when camping or after a day of swimming.”

He nods, a small smile gracing his lips as he takes the time to admire you while you’re focused on toasting the sugary treat. He’s never noticed just how perfectly defined your features are, nor has he noticed how vibrantly y/e/c your eyes are. Pairing all of this with your cold-bitten nose and your messy hair scrunching up around the blanket, he can’t help but find you otherworldly. How could one person be so beautiful doing the littlest of things?

“Hand me the graham crackers and chocolate, please.” You instruct, holding a hand out towards him, dragging him from his thoughts.

Silently he passes you two halves of graham cracker and a piece of chocolate, watching you intently as you rest the golden-brown marshmallow against the chocolate half of the graham cracker before squishing it between the other half.

“Here you go, loki.”

“Thank you.” He smiles before taking a bite of the treat.

“Oh. Th-that is delicious.”

You chuckle at his realization, happy to give him the chance to experience such a sweet.

~.~

It’s been hours now that you’ve all been out here, and now instead of just being cold, you’re tired as well.

Loki’s been noticing how sleepy you’ve gotten, even though you’ve been talking and laughing with the team all night. He knows you won’t leave on your own, regardless of how cold and tired you are because you’re just that stubborn.

When you start shivering again, however, this time even through the blanket he gave you, he decides it’s time to get you inside.

“Hey, you look rather cold and tired, love. Why don’t we head inside?” Loki offers, ignoring the soft conversations of the rest of the team.

You hum, nodding lightly as you try to hide a yawn and the racing of your heart at the pet name.

“Let’s go then, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” You blush slightly, smiling shyly as you avoid his gaze.

He nods, finding your tiredly shy demeanor rather endearing. He offers you a hand in getting up which you carefully take, a slight warmth blossoming in your body as your skin meets.

“We’re going to head inside. Y/n here is practically frozen.” Loki informs the group, all of them giving you short nods and waves of goodnight.

“See you later, y/n.” Steve calls to which you nod.

“You too. G’night everyone.”

With that, Loki softly places his hand on the small of your back, gently directing you towards the compound.

You easily let him guide you as you’re far too tired to care where you end up. Honestly, if he weren’t walking alongside you, you probably would pass out on one of the couches.

Opening the door for you, he can’t help but chuckle as you nearly moan in content at the warmth inside.

“Oh it’s so nice in here. I told them it was cold outside, but they didn’t care.” You pout, absentmindedly wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter as a yawn escapes you.

“You didn’t have to stay out there with them, you know.” Loki softly states.

“I know, but I felt I should. I mean, I do really enjoy bonfires. Besides, how often is it that we all get time to just exist in calmness? Without having to train or prepare for a mission?”

“Fair enough, but you can’t sacrifice your well-being for others all the time.”

“I don’t. I take care of myself just fine.” You defend, but with a single look from him you know he disagrees.

“You’re too stubborn to leave for your own well-being, hence why you’re currently shivering through your clothes and a blanket. Not to mention you literally throw yourself into dangerous fights for people you don’t even know. How is that taking care of yourself?”

You try to come back with a valid counterpoint, but you can’t think of anything to truly justify your actions. Huffing and letting a pout form on your lips, you simply mumble out a “fair enough” which causes Loki to chuckle.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you into bed and warmed up.”

Nodding you let him guide you towards your room. It’s not a rare occurrence for Loki to be kind to you, but it’s still not something you’re used to.

Once inside your room he allows you the privacy to change into your pajamas, even though you were practically already in them, before he helps you into bed.

“Loki, would you stay? I’m not ready to sleep yet, but I don’t really want to lay here alone.”

“I suppose I could.” He agrees, sliding off his shoes. He gently climbs into the bed beside you, crawling under the blankets as you lift them up for him.

Once he’s settled, you find his arm wrapping around your body almost immediately, gently tugging you closer.

You can feel his body heat radiating off of him, which only helps to warm you up. You were a bit colder than you realized only after you got under the blankets. On top of that you can smell the woodsmoke on your hoodie and on him, mixed in with his already intoxicating cologne. Honestly, you’ve never felt more comfortable than you are right now.

Sighing contently, you sink into the covers more and unconsciously wiggle closer to Loki who doesn’t fail to notice.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, a small smile gracing his face as he watches you.

“Mhm. Are you?” You answer, looking up at him for his answer.

“Very. Now get some sleep, love. You need it.”

“I know, but I don’t want to. It’s nice laying here with you. It’s warm…and cozy.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest which you’re resting on.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He asks.

“Am I?”

“Mhm. Even more so when you’re all tired like you are now.” He murmurs, turning ever so slightly to hold you closer to him more comfortably.

You sigh, taking in his woodsmoke tinted scent, more than happy to lay like this for hours on end. It’s odd given the fact the two of you can barely be called friends, but you think you’ve always kind of known you’ve liked him more than in a platonic sense.

You may not be close, but you have this effortless connection you can’t imagine having with anyone else.

“Thank you for the s’more earlier. I don’t even want to think of how many more marshmallows I would have gone through before figuring it out.”

“I’m just glad you liked it, loki.” You smile, sighing softly as you curl into his side more, getting more and more comfortable.

“It was amazing…just like you, y/n.”

“Mm. Sounds like you fancy me, loki.” You tease, yawning as you do so.

He smiles at your words, knowing more than anything that he does. He’s not quite sure when it happened, or how, but he does fancy you. Quite a lot.

“Maybe I do, love.”

At your lack of response he turns his attention to you, finding you already in a deep slumber, happily buried in the covers and resting on his chest.

He can’t stop the warm wave of adoration that floods his chest at the sight. What he wouldn’t give to have you fall asleep in his arms every night.

Smiling softly to himself, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting comfortable himself and shutting his eyes, more than happy to sleep next to you all night.

________________________________________________________

marvel: @eunoia-kth @goddessofdawns @jrj2 @luvshack @chewymoustachio @axen-gers @mollysolo @hpotterwhore @teenwolfbitches28 @justmesadgirl @jackys-stuff-blog @pandaxnienke @kitkatkaitin @accio-remus-lupin @averyhotchner @daedreams

#mcu #marvel #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfic #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff

102 notes · View notes