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#but it does kind of feel like a minimum ask is that if you want to celebrate the fun holidays with us
earlymodernlesbian · 2 months
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Jumblr, WIBTA if my bar for Passover invitations this year is “made any effort at all to reach out to me post October 7th”????
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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catboyieejeno · 3 months
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seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚
⋆ hhu ver.
oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you
cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!
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masterlist
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol
⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.
when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.
after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.
⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."
it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.
if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.
⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.
it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo
⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.
the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.
eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.
always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.
⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous
not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).
gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.
⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you
you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu
⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you
he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”
his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.
⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you
loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.
treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).
⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you
loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.
there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.
if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon
⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you
there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.
loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.
⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you
needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.
it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.
⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you
a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.
enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
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arachine · 1 year
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♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و 。・* . . . their firsts .ᐟ
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ᥫ᭡ featuring :: neteyam, lo’ak and kiri sully
ᥫ᭡ includes :: their first kisses & times !!
ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature
ᥫ᭡ general tags :: sexual content (nothing explicit), fluff
ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters are aged up, dry humor
ᥫ᭡ note :: depending on the attention this receives, i may or may not make a part two with spider, tsireya, and a’onung >_<
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♯ first…kiss with neteyam .ᐟ
+ neteyam’s got that older brother charm. a real gentleman, through and through—which isn’t the least bit surprising because he’s neytiri’s son, after all. and given this, he just…naturally excels at most things, even kissing. when it happens, it’s kind of almost unreal, sort of like a fairytale. he’s just so…good at it, doesn’t rush you, or force his tongue down your throat, or do anything that would even slightly make you uncomfortable. 
no, he’s slow—methodical. takes his time with you because he wants to taste you, and commit it to memory. i’d like to think he even makes you laugh before he goes in, because he’s just like that, you know? like, yeah, he’s got neytiri’s whole face but he’s still his daddy’s son—he’s got the smugness and attitude to prove it. 
♯ first…time with neteyam .ᐟ
+ god, i don’t even know where to begin. every fiber of my being believes that he’d make it the most comfortable, painless experience ever. usually, most people dread their firsts—simply because their partners didn’t: 1) prep them properly, 2) make sure that they finished, or 3) provide aftercare—but neteyam? yeah, he’s going above and beyond, and checking off every single one! you being in pain and miserable was simply never an option.
as previously mentioned, i’d like to think he’d try and calm your nerves by making you laugh. just a few jokes here and there, just to get your mind off of the initial stretch of his fingers working you. 
— “who’s the prettiest girl on pandora?” he teases, leaving zephyr-light kisses all over your face. you think he’s so corny, but giggle anyway, shoving lightly at his chest. 
“stop it!” but he’s relentless, still peppering your face with kisses, still prodding your slit. you’re so distracted by his attempts to calm your nerves, that you don’t even notice his finger is all the way in. not until he pulls it out and praises you for opening up for him.  
— “see, look at you,” a gentle hand rises to caress your cheek, “so pretty.” 
♯ first…kiss with lo'ak .ᐟ
+ the concept of patience is entirely foreign to him. patience and him are like oil and water. they just don’t mix. he’s a here, now, and fast type of guy, always has been. and when the moment arises between you two, he’s the first to initiate it—however, it’s no fairytale moment. it’s toothy, wet, and inexperienced. 
i’d like to think it’s you who has to take the initiative when it comes to kissing. and through this, he begins to get a sense of the things you like: how slow he should go, how much tongue, where he should hold you, and how he should move his lips. eventually, he gains enough confidence to kiss you the way he’s been wanting to kiss you—which is hard, and rough, and passionate—just a lot less toothy and wet. 
♯ first…time with lo'ak .ᐟ
+  it’s all baby steps and hand holding with him in this department too. this is the one instance in which i don’t think he’d charge into. i think after kissing you for the first time, he’d use some of that knowledge to decipher how he’d go about it. at first, he’s like incredibly scared to touch you, just hovering over you like a sheet of paper, scared that if he uses just the slightest amount of strength, you’ll break or something. 
— “does that hurt?” / “can you feel that?” / “maybe if we try it this way…” / “am i in?” 
the sentiment is cute, thoughtful even. because don’t get me wrong, a man that takes the time to ask you how he should touch you, where he should touch you, and how you’re feeling during sex is amazing. bravo to any guy who does it (it’s the bare minimum), but lo’ak does it to the point where you’re questioning if he’s scared of pussy. overall, i think this is something you’ll have to take the initiative for too.
— “lo’ak if you don’t touch me right now, i swear to god i’m going to kill you and then myself.” 
♯ first…kiss with kiri .ᐟ
+ my sweet girl. my bestest girl. i just know it’d be so fucking cute. like actually, the type of kiss where your leg slowly springs up (i.e. the princess diaries). yeah, it’d be that good. girls just do everything better anyway, and it’s kiri, so the expectations were already high (duh). the thing about kiri is, when she kisses, she really commits to the kiss. she doesn’t do half-assed, because kissing is like dessert. 
it’s supposed to be (especially first kisses) sweet, and airy, and dizzying—and it is! the amalgamation of her tender touches, and the little giggles in between, and the teasing ‘run and follow’ your lips do…are all things that add to the experience. a kiss with kiri will literally have you on speed dial with uhaul, trust and believe!
♯ first…time with kiri .ᐟ
+ like neteyam, she’d be so attentive. just making sure you’re comfortable, reassuring you, whispering words of encouragement, and checking in on you mentally. she knows that sex can be exhausting (both physically and mentally), so i’d like to think she’d spend extra time on foreplay and aftercare than she would during the actual act itself—not that she had to spend much time on you anyway, because getting you to finish wasn’t something she considered to be much of a feat. 
also, kiri is a princess, she’s literally the first born daughter. she may often appear to have a tough exterior, but…it’s just a front. dote on her and shower her with the same affections she showered you with, treat her like a little doll and watch her crumble underneath your fingertips from the smallest of praises. 
— “such a sweet girl, staying open for me.” / “could watch you do that all day.” / “nobody touches me the way you do.” 
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© arachine 2023
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sanguineterrain · 8 months
Note
Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨
anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓
jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.
also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.
prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
Business has been slow.
It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.
Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.
So today is a reading day. You might even close early.
You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.
"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.
Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.
"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."
"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."
"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.
Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.
At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.
"Slow day?" he asks.
"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"
He blinks. "Exam?"
"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."
"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."
His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.
You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"
"I-I have to go."
You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.
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You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.
"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.
You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...
"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."
Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.
"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."
Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."
Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.
"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"
Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.
"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."
You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.
"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.
"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.
"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"
"Anything."
You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.
"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"
Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"
"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."
"You trust me," he repeats quietly.
"Yup!"
Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.
"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."
You squint. "No notes? Really?"
"They're perfection, as my brother would say."
Fuck, you like him so much.
"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.
"I shouldn't—"
"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.
Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.
"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.
"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."
"Your favorite?"
"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.
"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."
"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"
"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.
"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.
He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.
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Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.
"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.
"Hi," he says softly.
"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.
"You know my order?"
You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"
"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."
"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."
"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.
The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.
"Hey!"
You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.
"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.
"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"
He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.
"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.
"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."
"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"
"Say one more word."
You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.
"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"
"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."
"Fuck you," the man spits.
Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.
"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.
Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.
The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.
"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.
Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.
"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.
You nod, a little dazed.
"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."
"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"
This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.
"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"
He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."
You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.
"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."
"You think I'm cute?" he asks.
"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.
He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.
"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."
"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."
"You do?"
Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"
You laugh and he visibly softens.
"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."
"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."
You grin. "That would be perfection."
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hina-hina · 1 year
Note
Hi can i request a ghost x too pure for this world slash civillian reader . where reader is the total opposite of ghost like they too kind and soft and ghost met them whole reader was working in a local bookshop and they both just fall head over heels for each other 😭💗💗
Hiiii, this was such a cute request! I love the opposites attract relationships so much and imagining THE big, scary Ghost with this very sweet and kind reader is so fun!! Kinda got carried away with it, but I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting!! (❤ ω ❤)
|| Ghost with a Soft Partner ||
Warnings: soft and flustered Ghost (^///^)
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It's not often when Ghost gets to take a break from his work, but when he does it's never for very long
So, when he does get a break, he spends it doing the few things he actually likes about civilian lives
And, surprisingly, one of those things is reading
So, whenever he's in town, he likes to pick up a few books to take back to base with him
So he pulls on the most discreet civvies he owns, a black hoodie, mask, and beanie. (Because you can't very well go about in town with a skull mask without getting unwanted stares)
He doesn't like how much his hulking form sticks out in the cozy bookstore but he goes anyway
However, he immediately regrets it after he sees the confusing way the store has the books organized
Apparently noticing his confusion, you would approach to help him
He is immediately taken aback by your soft-spoken voice and demeanor as you ask if he needs help
Would take a minute to respond and not notice he's just staring at you
When he notices you starting to get nervous under his intense gaze he would immediately look away and clear his throat
"I'm lookin' for your mystery books..."
"Oh! Yes, the sorting method can get a little confusing. Just follow me!"
He is once again taken aback by your helpful attitude
It's not often people are so nice to him
You bring him to the right section and are about to leave him alone when he suddenly asks;
"Any recommendations?"
He doesn't know why he asks but he knows that he's comforted by your presence
So, the two of you talk and he ends up buying more than one of your recommendations
But eventually you have to go back to work and he has to go back home
However you find yourself stuck thinking about the large, intimidating man with a love for mystery books and he finds himself in a similar position.
So he finds himself coming back to the bookstore again
and again
He finds talking with you to be like a fresh breath of air
It makes him forget about Ghost for a while and feel like Simon again
Eventually he gets up the courage to ask you out on a date against his better judgement
So, you end up going on a date to this cutesy cafe even though he feels totally out of place because he knows you would love it
He eventually opens up about his job but tells you the bare minimum, just that he's just a military soldier is the SAS
Your shocked and slightly worried because that work is dangerous but upon reflection you know he can handle himself
He walks you home and the end of the night and when you lean in to kiss him, he pulls back
When you look at him with a hurt expression, he continues;
"Listen... I don't understand how I feel about you but I do know you deserve a hell of a lot more than me. If we do this, I have to know your sure. My work is... Dangerous. I don't want to hurt you."
You smile, "Let me worry about what I think I deserve, Simon."
You place your hands on the sides of his mask and he pauses, large hands coming up to engulf your wrists as he nods
You pull his mask down and lean up as you kiss
Eventually, he has to return to base and is worried on how the distance will affect your relationship
You reassure him though with your soft smile and tell him you'll be waiting for him to get back
He feels his heart clench with a soft affection he hadn't felt in a long time
While he's going through his things, he opens one of the books you had recommended to him only to find you had tucked a few secretly taken polaroids inside
He keeps one tucked in his breast pocket and another pinned to the wall in his room on base
While he's gone, the two of you share video calls and you send him letters
He's always so touched by the time you put into the letters and he loves knowing your still doing fine without him there
He would be SUPER protective of you
When the other guys on the 141 task force find out he has a partner, they argue over what kind of person he would look for in a partner
When he finally shows them a picture, they are all shocked because just from the picture they can tell your complete opposites
You send him care packages with books you think he would like and homemade sweets
The other guys would always ask for some but he would refuse because you made them for him
He would be reluctant to tell you about his past because he doesn't want to "corrupt" you
You tell him he's being dumb and reassure him that, when he's ready to talk, you'll be there
Would still have feelings of inadacity because he's a cold-hearted killer and your so painfully good
You reassure him that his work helps tons of people and that your proud of him
He enjoys having you read to him while he rests his head in your lap
He's definitely touch starved so he gets very flustered when you get touchy with him
He loves it tho
I can also see him sending you books, trinkets, and rocks he finds while on deployment
You keep each one he sends and display them
Prefers to spend dates indoors quietly
Would 100% fantasize about marrying you
Would encourage you to be a little less kind when people at work are mean to you or too pushy because he doesn't like the idea of not being able to defend you himself
All and all, you would just be really fluffy and cute, a much needed softness to balance out his cold demeanor
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simpjaes · 4 months
Note
pizza delivery guy!jake delivering reader an extra large sausage pizza 🤗
i hate how funny this is but also
pizza delivery guy jake:
tags: implied sex (not rly super detailed), reader is assumed to be vegetarian lol
Jake looks forward to his saturday night shifts for a lot of reasons, but none as good as you. The girl who orders for her group of friends at eleven at night on the dot, always two veggie pizzas, and always with a big tip.
You were a regular, of course, who he would jump to deliver to solely to see a room full of pretty girls batting their lashes at him despite his minimum wage status.
It got to the point even, that you'd request for him to deliver your food each time you order. Each tip got bigger, bigger, and bigger, up until Jake pulls up with your measly two veggie pizzas in a new car. With a new jacket, and a pretty smile.
What the pretty deliver driver didn't know? The fact that your friends hype you to try and get his number every single time he delivers.
The fact that sometimes you guys get a bit rowdy and tipsy, and go as far as making jokes about corny porno scenarios where he comes in with a large sausage for you, and oh no! you don't have money to pay! what ever shall you do?
It would stay as a funny little joke if it wasn't for the four plus hours of your friends hyping you. Saying, "come on, you never order a sausage pizza, he'll definitely pick up the hint. And if he rejects you, just play it off like a joke!"
You did. You did order that sausage pizza and, well, Jake did pick up the hint.
Driving to your house in silence, wondering why you suddenly added a winky emoji after his name in the delivery requests. Wondering why you suddenly ordered a pizza with an ingredient that resembles a dick. Wondering why he pulls up and you're alone when you answer the door in a scantily clad outfit and a shy smile on your face.
He's stunned to look at you tonight, to be honest, as he dips his head into your doorway with a confused face.
"Where are your friends?" He asks casually, leaning back and attempting to push your pizza forward and into your hands.
You shrug, pretending that they're not just around the corner listening.
"No one showed up tonight, I'm lonely." You play off the scenarios in your head, entirely because you really could just play it off like a joke.
"O- oh." Jake tries to smile at you, letting the puzzle pieces click together in his head. He really thinks you're implying right now. "I, um, I get off work at midnight, you know. If you're bored."
"Wait, really?" You ask, shocked that he doesn't appear to find this corny at all, but understanding far more as to why he offered when you note his eyes staring straight at the sheer pajama top you're wearing....with no bra.
"Um, yeah...if you want." He asks for your confirmation. "I could probably get off early too, it's slowed down a lot."
You smile, nodding to him as you take the single large sausage pizza.
"Okay then..." You say, kind of awkward and shy because you seriously can't believe that worked. "I'll see you in an hour then?"
He nods with a smile, clasping both hands in front of himself as if to hide the semi-hard on in his pants that you definitely notice.
And then he's gone, and you're standing there with a sausage pizza, a shocked face, and three girls rushing to giggle beside you.
♡♡♡♡
Naturally, and against the will of your friends, you have them pack up and leave the typical girl's night with a very sober uber as you sit in wait for midnight to strike.
And when it does? Jake shows up much as he said he would, in a plain t-shirt rather than his uniform, with a curious look in his eye because it does feel weird that he's here without a pizza exchange.
"So..." He says, rubbing the tip of his shoe into the frame of your door.
"So," You echo him, leaning against the frame yourself as you look at him.
"How lonely are you tonight?" He boldly asks.
You stay silent as you back up and flick your head to invite him in, still in your scantily clad pajamas with no underwear on.
"Lonely enough to order a fucking sausage pizza to get your attention?" You laugh, pointing to the uneaten pizza.
He lends you a laugh at that, which is a very nice sound.
"Was the sausage thing for real?" He finally asks when he sits on your couch with you.
"What do you mean?" You try to avoid the question, feeling dumb for even going this route to do this.
"Like, are you asking me to fuck you or do you actually just want to hang out?"
Well.
"Oh, um," You look away from him with a smile. "Could we not work it out to have both?"
Jake nods with a smirk, hand immediately landing against the button of his jeans as he looks at you.
"I think we can manage that."
And well, you do. Both of you do manage that.
You recall the events to your friends the next day, over how good he worked his tongue between your legs, over how good you worked your tongue on him.
They stopped listening around the time when you described the way you rode him right here, in the very spot on the couch they're sitting.
But their ears perked up a bit more at the description of how big his cock was, and how good it felt to have it split you open. Even better when he filled you up time and time again, until about four in the morning when he finally went home.
The best part about this? You don't even have to order a pizza to look at him next time. All you needed to do was snap a titty pic and Jake was risking his job to rush into your house just to fuck you up and against the little table in your entry way.
It's fun really, giving your little pizza delivery hook-up a quickie before his next delivery that will definitely come a bit later than it's supposed to.
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blues824 · 4 months
Note
Could I request Ace, Floyd, Lilia, Kalim, Leona and Cater's s/o sneaking them snacks in class and (somehow) never getting caught by teachers or other students?
Gender-neutral reader
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Ace Trappola
Let’s be honest, he would love you for this, and he would attempt to bring you snacks as well if there wasn’t such a high chance of him getting caught
Luckily, he can just give you one of his hoodies in return because he knows that you love it when it smells like him
Also, free tickets to his basketball games because the snacks you bring him give him the energy to maintain his grades
He would treat the snacks like they were drugs, asking if you “brought the goods”, and you would reveal the inside of your blazer to reveal a bag taped to the fabric
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Cater Diamond
Also would love you for this, because he usually gets up late and does not have a chance to stop for breakfast… or he skips breakfast
I always pictured him as the type to be eating a bag of hot cheetos in the back of the classroom, you are just his supplier
He promises to pay you back, and he usually does whenever you both get a chance to go on a date to a cafe that opened up somewhere
Coming from a well-off family, he insists on paying because you always bring him snacks, and thus he needs to make sure you eat as well
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Leona Kingscholar
This man never attends classes, but when he does, he is grateful that he is getting something out of it… usually in the form of beef jerky
It’s like a reward for maintaining the bare minimum when it comes to attendance, because if he’s going to be there, he wants to be praised
Don’t expect anything in return, because he won’t give you anything… immediately, at least, because you will receive a large sum of money
Of course, you spend a bit of it on more snacks to give him, so he basically bought himself snacks, but it doesn’t matter
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Floyd Leech
Both Azul and Jade are grateful for whatever you’re doing because Floyd shows up for his shifts less grumpy than before
Of course, neither of them are aware that you are supplying the eel with snacks during class, meaning he has something to keep him occupied when he is bored
Don’t expect him to pay you back in return, as you never set up any sort of agreement with him and thus he doesn’t feel obligated to give you anything back
The other Mostro Lounge staff do give you free-meal vouchers because of your good deeds that benefit the Lounge (making sure Floyd isn’t grumpy)
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Kalim Al-Asim
He tries his best to follow the rules, and he would gently discourage you from bringing snacks into class when you are not supposed to
But once in a while his resolve slips as he accepts the snacks because he’s not sure if he’s going to make it to lunch
Will definitely try to pay you back, offering you money and stuff, but will not try to bring snacks of his own into class
Instead, he will bring them to you during lunch because he does not want them to be confiscated before they make it to you
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Lilia Vanrouge
He absolutely loves the snacks that you bring him, and he assures you that this is a secret between just the two of you
If this fae knows one thing, it’s how to be stealthy, so you both bring snacks to each other… but be wary because his snacks are homemade 
This is the one time where you insist that you don’t need to be paid back for your ‘kind deeds’, as he calls it
Luckily you have more than enough snacks for the both of you, so there is no need to eat the ones he brings
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steddiecameraroll · 5 months
Text
Steve’s pov to this post now both POVs on ao3
Steve sighs and lowers his head in shame as the group of old classmates leave the shop. Softly plunking his forehead against the counter in defeat. His uniformed hat slips from his head onto the counter. If Robin had been working she would’ve added more than one tally onto the board after that pitiful display.
“Buck up, sailor boy.”
Steve jolts up to find Eddie Munson nimbly twirling his hat around his index finger.
“Munson, what are you…that’s my hat.” Steve swipes the hat swiftly from Eddie’s hand, feeling unnerved under the man’s silly smile.
When he straightens himself up he sees Eddie take in the entire ridiculous get up with an amused gaze.
“Love the outfit, by the way. Really finishes off the whole ambiance.” He motions around them to punctuate his point.
“I know it’s ridiculous, dude. You don’t have to rub it in.”
Steve’s heard every pirate pun in human existence since he started this shitty minimum wage job.
“Oh no, you misconstrue, my good man.”
Misconstrue?
As Eddie continues, he flattens his palms onto the countertop and leans into Steve’s space. The seemingly simple movement causes a weird sensation in Steve’s stomach that he tries to ignore.
“If I’m rubbing anything, it wouldn’t be your uniform.”
Steve’s palms are suddenly sweaty because what the fuck does that mean? He thinks his cheeks feel warmer than they did a moment ago too, and he’s grateful when Eddie moves away to begin looking through the display case.
He takes a steadying breath then from behind the counter, steps in beat with Eddie’s movements.
As the curly haired man drags his finger across the glass he asks, “what do you recommend?”
Steve realizes he might get out of this interaction unscathed if he can get through the next couple of minutes. So he sucks it up and dons his most charming smile.
“Um, the USS Butterscotch is a favorite or the cherry’s jubilee.” He watches Eddie carefully scrutinize each and every flavor of ice cream before standing up and directing his attention back on Steve. “What do you usually get when you eat ice cream?”
The corner of Eddie’s lip ticks up and then he leans in.
“Wanna know a secret?” The man whispers.
And Steve does, he really does. “Um, ok,” he replies shakily.
He steps closer ensuring he doesn’t miss Eddie’s next words, and braces himself because it feels like something he should do.
“I’m more of a salty treat, kinda man.” Then Eddie winks implying some kind of hidden meaning.
Steve doesn’t get it.
But he doesn’t want to admit to that fact. So he tries to hide it with an uncertain chuckle, and an awkward scratch to the back of his neck. He prays Eddie doesn’t spring some kind of pop quiz on him, catching him in the ruse.
“Well, then maybe-um-a parfait? Peanut butter?” A lightbulb goes off in his head and he smiles bright. “Or nuts…something with nuts?”
Eddie snorts and bites back a smile, catching Steve’s eye. How has he never noticed how defined Eddie’s cupids bow is?
The words that just tumbled out of Steve’s mouth finally hit his brain, and he wants to jump through a window. Because it’s fine, he’s only a complete idiot.
The last five minutes with this man have thrown Steve off his game.
What is happening? Chill out.
He shakes his head and grabs an errant cleaning rag trying to busy himself. Maybe if he keeps his eyes off the super senior, he’ll stop putting his foot in his mouth.
And maybe he’ll stop noticing how oddly attractive Eddie’s mouth is.
“I could go for some nuts,” Eddie’s voice pitches low and Steve’s knees almost buckle.
An image flashes in Steve’s mind of Eddie looking up at him from below and it makes his mouth go dry.
“What kind of nuts do you have, Stevie?” Eddie asks while leaning over, drawing Steve’s eyes to the taut bicep muscle suddenly appearing under his shirt sleeve.
How in the world is he not supposed to hear the sexual innuendo in that question? He swallows hard and pushes through, trying to pretend he’s not chubbing up in his stupid polyester shorts.
“Um, just -y’know- normal ones.” He can’t help himself and continues. “What kind do you like?”
He licks his lips, holding his breath, waiting to see if Eddie will continue the banter.
Steve feels like his skin is burning. He can’t remember the last time someone so blatantly flirted with him. Let alone a man. A sexy man, he’s realizing, but a man nonetheless.
There’s not enough time for him to question why he’s enjoying Eddie’s eyes on him. He feels like prey of some kind and fuck does it feel good.
He wonders if the rumors he’s heard about Eddie are true. If Steve pulled the man behind the counter would he really like Steve’s nuts?
When Eddie responds, his voice is lower and it sends a shiver up Steve’s spine.
“I’m sure I’d like anything you give me, captain.”
Steve can’t control the shuttering reply that slips from his mouth.
“Jesus,” he sighs. “Uh, how about our peanut butter brickle topped with our candied almonds?”
That chubbing from earlier is becoming an annoying problem. So Steve nervously pulls his scooper from its holster and starts mindlessly spinning it.
He’s trying so hard to not think about Eddie’s tongue.
“Sounds delicious. I’ll have one of those. Is there a show or anything I get with my treat?”
“A show?”
Like a strip tease?
Steve grabs a parfait cup, grateful to busy his hands with the order.
“Was just curious if there’s some kind of song or dance you have to perform in this adorable little outfit. Y’know, like that one restaurant in Chicago, Ed Debevic’s?”
Steve scrunches his nose in confusion while sliding open the display case.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Really?” Eddie cocks his head. “It’s a 50’s diner place where the staff are dicks. Nothing? Really?”
Eddie’s face looks so earnestly surprised Steve wishes he had known the place. He shakes his head though, while reaching into the giant tub of swirly looking ice cream.
Steve can see Eddie in his peripheral, dip down to watch. Customers are always watching when Steve scoops but this customer makes Steve want to show off a little.
“Is there a shower back there?”
“What?” The question comes out of left field.
“In the back. Was just curious if you go home sticky or not.”
The timber of Eddie’s voice makes it sound like he’d prefer Steve to be sticky. Would he want to lick Steve clean? The flash of Eddie’s tongue fills Steve’s mind for the millionth time in the last 5 minutes.
“Um, no… I mean yes I’m generally pretty sticky at the end of my shift, but there’s no shower…in the back.” But he wishes there was. “There’s not really anything back there. Only a table and some safety posters, a white board that Robin shames me with.”
Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “Shames you? Robin…?”
“Buckley?” He’s sure Eddie knows Robin. Doesn’t he play an instrument? “From school.”
“Yeaaahhh, that’s what I thought. Good for her.” He says with a smirk.
Steve pours a sprinkling of candy coated almonds over the ice cream with a furrowed brow. The snarky comment is a perfect distraction from the uncomfortable tightness that has been growing in his shorts.
Steve almost forgot the whole point of this interaction was to get Eddie out of here quickly. Not to fantasize about how warm and wet those pouty lips would feel.
“Anything else I can get for you?” He asks while trying to hide his nervousness behind a smile.
He sets the concoction down on the counter and holds his breath.
A slow yet wicked grin spreads across Eddie’s face causing a knot to develop in Steve’s stomach. That grin looks dangerous.
“Naw, I’m good. Unless…” He pauses a beat before continuing. “There’s something available that’s not on the menu.”
And then the man has the audacity to lean over the countertop, dip his head slightly, and glance up at Steve with the most mouth watering gaze.
Oh, he definitely has something Eddie can have. He wants to give it to him. Wants to feed it slowly between his lips until they’re spread tight. Then shove his fingers into Eddie’s hair and massage his scalp. And from the look on Eddie’s face, he’d love every single inch of it.
Steve’s never wanted to fuck someone’s face more.
“Um,” he looks around the empty restaurant, gauging if he could sneak in the back for a few minutes unnoticed.
The mall does seem quieter at the moment. Maybe no one will be craving a sundae for the next 10 minutes.
“Y-yeah, there is actually.”
Nervous energy is strumming under his skin. He prays he’s not misreading this. He’s never done this before, but he really really wants to. Didn’t even know that, until the curly haired man walked in here.
Now he thinks if Eddie doesn’t suck his cock in the next 5 minutes he’s never going to stop thinking about it.
“It’s in the back.” He swallows hard. “Um, in the-in the break room. Wanna see it? Maybe?” Hopefully Eddie doesn’t hear the crack in Steve’s voice.
Steve stands in nervous anticipation waiting for this whole thing to blow up in his face. Maybe Eddie will bust out laughing, call Steve a creep and stomp his way out of the restaurant. If he’s lucky Eddie won’t go around town telling everyone how the old king Steve is now queer Steve.
“Yeeaaah, definitely need to see it.” Eddie’s tongue glides languidly across his bottom lip. “Maybe wanna taste it even.”
Steve’s heart stutters while it quickly redirects his blood flow south. A tiny gasp slips past his now gaping mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken before him.
He nods in silent understanding and knows he needs to move quickly before anyone shows up. While biting his bottom lip to prevent a whimper from slipping out, he motions his head toward the break room door.
“Cool, very cool.” He keeps himself pointed toward Eddie and walks backward leading the way.
When Eddie makes it to the gap in the counter, Steve sees Eddie’s pupils widen and hears a heavy groan rumble from the man’s chest.
The break room door hits Steve’s back and he wonders how quiet they have to be. Because he’s sure from the look Eddie’s giving him, he wants to do more than suck him off.
And the way Steve’s body is responding, he would seriously consider it.
They disappear behind the door for 17 minutes, where Steve receives a sexy metalhead shaped hickey on the inside of his thigh.
“I don’t have all day, sailor man.” Erica Sinclair stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at the two men when they stumble out into the open.
Steve’s eyes fall on the melted mess of Eddie’s ice cream before taking in the angry tyke.
“Well, get after it, sailor man.” Eddie brings his palm down quickly, smacking Steve’s ass.
“Oh,” Steve startles forward feeling his cheeks heat up.
“Call me later?” Eddie whispers.
Steve tries to bite back a smile but fails while nodding eagerly.
Apparently Steve had been right, Eddie did want to lick him clean.
Eddie’s POV
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
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melminli · 6 months
Text
phone time
summery - you and satoru have been together for a long time now, like really long. next week marks your nine year anniversary, actually, and your friends think that it's a bit weird that you two are not doing anything special on that day.
contains: fem reader, fluff/crack, utahime being in your business, gossip, meimei hate, suggestive joke at the end
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"we were thinking about going shopping with mei mei this weekend, you want to come with us?" utahime asked you as you stepped into the living room after leaving the kitchen. it took you a second to answer her, as your attention was focused on the tray in your hands. you really didn't want to risk one of the three cups of hot coffee spilling over and doing a mess. as well as getting a third-degree burn.
when the tray finally touched the small table, you got around to answering. "i don't know. i've been spending too much money lately." you admitted, making yourself comfortable on the soft carpet. sitting across from the sofa also helped the conversation flow more smoothly. "i would still come just to hang out with you guys, but you know i don't like meimei that much..."
shoko was about to add something when gojo interrupted her. "you can just take my card, you know. and meimei isn't much of a talker anyway. you should go if you feel like it." he suggested from his position on the pastel pink armchair. "you can also go to starbucks together. they should have pumpkin space latte on the menu again now that it's fall."
you thought about the proposal once more at his argument while holding your cup in your hands. the girls on the other side sent disgusted looks to the man. even though he spoke in their favor, they weren't really interested in hearing his input. "and why are you still here? i thought you told your crusty boyfriend to leave for a few hours." utahime complained to you.
"and i did." you replied and sensed the mean looks he gave you when you didn't correct her after she described him as crusty. you just shook your head to signal him that she didn't know what she was talking about. "weren't you gonna meet up with suguru?" you asked him, looking in his direction.
i can't believe i'm getting kicked out of my own place. he leaned a little deeper in his seat at that thought, but didn't really mind since it was you who asked him to. he wasn't really authorized to participate in girl talk and was, to be honest, a bit butt hurt about it. he would do anything to participate in a session. "we are. that asshole is running late, so i would be very grateful if you ladies could show me some mercy and let me wait inside since it's like two degrees outside."
you raised an eyebrow at his wording and spoke up with a grin after taking a sip. "what's the matter, elsa? can't handle the cold?"
satoru just rolled his eyes. "i can't wait until it starts snowing. doesn't it ever get boring? making the same jokes over and over again."
you pretended to give his question serious thought until you finally answered. "no, not really."
utahime watched the interaction between you with a furrowed brow. "i can't believe you two are a couple." she finally said, abruptly changing the subject. "you just don't act coupley at all."
shoko disagreed. "what does that even mean? they've been together for like forever."
it felt a little strange to gojo that she was kind of supportive of your relationship right now. she wasn't really, but it felt that way to him, and he was happy about it and agreed with her. "exactly. that is a heavy accusations you're throwing in the room, that i'm not going to tolerate. i would literally die for my girlfriend, which is like the bare minimum, i know. but still." he spoke in a completely serious voice.
you hummed in support of him. "yeah, i mean men are meant to die in war anyway, so it's good that you know."
there. you guys were doing it again. "that's what i'm talking about. nothing about how you behave with each other is romantic in the slightest way." she said, a little disappointed. "i've also never seen you kiss or heard that you're going on dates. i mean, do you even have anything planned for your anniversary?" she continued to enumerate, getting seriously worried.
you didn't take her worry serious since you did all these things in private. you just preferred it that way. "we live together, and we spend a lot of quality time together. just because we don't call everything a date doesn't mean we never do anything as a couple." you retorted, and satoru supported what you said with adding period. "i've been a little lazy lately due to it getting so cold again, and i don't feel like doing anything extravagant because it just mentally exhausts me on top with work. so we'll probably just chill and have some phone time in the evening." you answered her question about your anniversary. maybe you would get satoru a little gift like flowers. yeah, he liked getting flowers. you mentally made a note to look on the internet for some with a nice meaning.
shoko repeated questioningly. "phone time?" somehow, she imagined it to be something very strange.
"yeah, you know." satoru began, although the two had no idea what you two were talking about. "lying in bed. scrolling on social media - mostly tiktok. showing funny or stupid videos to each other and laughing about it."
you raised an index finger to add. "or cat videos." you reminisced about some silly trends in the past. "i kind of miss dabloon cat..."
so the two are just some sort of ipad kids.
"that's pretty weird, actually. you two are weird." said utahime in conclusion, not knowing what else to say.
you just rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee. "last time i checked, you were single."
a sigh escaped her at the remark. "well, i can't argue against that. my dating life has been drier than a desert lately..."
at that, a slight giggle escaped satoru's lips, reminding you all that he was indeed still present in the room. "you know what's not dry after i - "
"satoru."
"what? just because she doesn't see us kiss doesn't mean that we don't do it."
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months
Text
Kisaki Tetta - "Brother Knows Best"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
In which a little Kisaki Tetta comes home to tell his big brother about his newest crush. Or; In which Kisaki [Name] unknowingly prevents a long series of tragic events of the future by being an asshole to his younger brother.
                                                                                                   
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🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹
"[Name]! [Name]!"
Shouted a little Tetta as his tiny legs carry him from the front door and into the living room.
[Name], who was sprawled lazily across the sofa, only glanced at the six year old briefly before turning his attention back to the t.v. in front of him. Light from the screen rapidly flashing on his face as a colorful toy commercial played. The feeling of his little brother's annoyed gaze not even phasing him as he ignored the boy.
"Grr... [NAME]!"
Tetta shouted as he roughly shook the h/c-ette's arm, trying to get the older's attention.
[Name] growls under his breath as he turns and glares at the little bespectacled boy. Lightly grabbing his shoulder as he shoves him backwards a little, making him stumble and fall on his bottom.
"God you're annoying..... Whaddya want?"
The h/c-ette grumbled as he leans his head on the palm of his hand.
Tetta huffed as he stood up off the floor and waddles over to the sofa, shoving the older's legs to the side and dramatically plopping onto the seat cushion.
"I wanted to ask you..... How— How do you tell a girl you like her?"
The bespectacled boy mutters timidly as he fiddles with his chubby fingers; already anticipating the teasing he's about to endure.
[Name] raised a brow at his brother's words; an amused smirk crawling its way across his lips as he holds back a snort. His annoying dweeb of a little brother has a crush on someone? The kid that whined about how annoying it was whenever [Name] brought his boyfriend over? The kid who swore up and down that he'd never be in a relationship because he'd rather be smart than in love? Oh, this is comedy gold.
"Pfft— You? Since when? What's so cool about this girl for you of all people to like her?"
The h/c-ette jeered; purposefully sitting up to make sure the younger has full view of his mean look.
Tetta groans quietly, already regretting his decision. But what other choice does he have? There's no one else the boy trusted more than his older with such a question.
".....She's... She's really nice to me...."
The small boy mumbles as he pushes his sliding glasses back into place.
"Pffffft— HAHAHAHAHA! That's it! That's hilarious!"
[Name] doubles over, cackling as he tries to hold himself up with the armrest, tears streaming from his eyes.
"Hehehehehe...hehehe... haaah... that was a laugh. Okay, Look brat, you're like... what? Five years old? You're practically still a fetus. You can't even do long division yet; you have no idea what love is."
He crosses his arms and shakes his head.
"If all this girl did was the bare minimum of being kind to you and you're 'falling in love', all of your relationships in the future are gonna be short, loveless and pathetic."
[Name] finishes, giving his little brother an unimpressed and somewhat disgusted look.
However the h/c-ette's eyes softened as he saw tears gathering and spilling over from behind Tetta's fogged glasses. His little body shaking with each silent sob; refusing to make a sound lest he be berated for that too. [Name] let out a sigh before wrapping his arms around the crying boy and pulling him into his lap. He hugged him tight; ignoring the younger's fruitless attempts to push him away.
The older hums quietly as he strokes his brother's head. Running his fingers through Tetta's short hair.
"I know..... I know... I'm so mean to you aren't I Tetta. I'm being an awful big brother to you, huh."
[Name] mumbles quietly as removes the younger's glasses and whipes away the tears from his pretty blue eyes.
"It's just tough love, m'kay? I love you so much, Tetta. I'm only trying to prepare you for the future. I don't want your heart to be broken when you can hardly understand how you feel yet."
Tetta looks up at [Name] with teary eyes as he sniffles; trying to wipe them away and only causing more to fall.
"I love... *sniffle* I love you too. Can we eat something? I'm hungry."
He mumbles, drying his tears with [Name]'s shirt as his stomach gurgles loudly.
"Alright, I'll order takeout."
The h/c-ette chuckles softly as he ruffles Tetta's hair.
🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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ohhiimjazzed · 7 months
Text
NSFW Alphabet LMK Sun Wukong
CW: Explicit sexual content, MINORS DNI
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A - Aftercare (what are they like after sex):
at first, he had to be told what made you comfortable, but after that, he's basically a pro. he's actually a very caring person to the people closest to him. that includes you.
B- Body Part (their favorite body part on themselves and his partner's)
On himself: I know it's cliche, but tail. it's something that's unique about him. it's what makes a monkey a monkey. so he takes pride in having a tail. He's the Monkey King after all. He's going to be proud of the Monkey part of him.
On You: your hips. LOVE HANDLES MAN. He will grip onto your hips whenever he possibly can. From the front, from the back, doesn't matter. It also keeps him grounded during sex. he likes to feel that you're there with him and that you're real.
C- Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he likes to cum inside if he can. it's either if he has a condom on, or if you are on birth control. (don't be silly, wrap your willie!). but if you're trying for a baby, oh, he is going to indulge in cumming inside you.
if he had to take another option, then he'll cum on your stomach or ass
D- Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he's shapeshifted himself to have female anatomy before. and he's touched himself with those parts. it wasn't really a horny thing really. he was just curious to see how women masturbate
E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Wukong is kind of a whore. He isn't a virgin by any means. But, this is the first time he's had sex with a human. Humans are a lot more fragile than demons. He's a bit scared he'll break you when you did it for the first time. by the time he learns your limits, he's good and he'll know what he's doing
F - Favorite Position (that goes without saying)
He's got a couple
The Lotus: (one partner is sitting in the other's lap while wrapping their legs around their partner) He's able to grasp your hips easy here, and he can hit it pretty deep
Doggy Style: (one partner is on their hands and knees while the other is behind them) again, he can grab your hips more easily with this position. plus it's a lot more animalistic. it unlocks the demon instincts in him.
G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he's called you 'bro' during sex. it was one time and it was spur of the moment. did it ruin the mood? yes. was it hilarious? hell yes. what I'm trying to say, is that he's not afraid to crack a joke during sex
H - Hair (how groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
the carpet matches the drapes because it's fur. he's a monkey. there's gonna be fur down there. but, when you come along he trims some of it so it doesn't get stuck up a hole or something
I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
he can get really romantic when he wants to. he's got the duality of calling you 'bro' in bed, to whispering sweet nothings to you. he's a cheesy fuck tho. he'll do the rose petals and the candles
J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)
he's rubbed one out before. he'll do it to the thought of you either if you're gone or not in the mood. he won't force you into having sex with him so jacking off is the next best thing (look at him doing the bare minimum)
K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding kink: bro will keep it inside you after he finishes if you ask for it. he wants to keep it there in hopes that you'll get pregnant (if you can). he's seen how loving and caring you are towards the baby monkeys. it makes him want to start a family with you.
Praise Kink: it goes both ways for this one. he likes to see how you react to him praising you. praise him too while you're at it. tell him how good it feels. he'll go harder and try to hit deeper. also he just wants to feel loved and make you feel loved.
Degradation: call him a good little whore. he'll love it
L - Location (favorite places to do the do)
he'll do it in the bedroom (obviously) it's the most privacy, but he also doesn't mind doing it in places around FFM. you just gotta make sure the monkeys aren't able to catch you two. some of them are really young and we are not here to traumatize children
M - Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)
PET HIS TAIL! Do it! I fucking dare you! He'll pounce on you if he's feeling it that day. His tail is sensitive man. He might even moan outright if you pet it during his rut/heat.
Also generally being in a heat/rut like state will get him going anyways. (this is demon terms not real monkey terms by the way)
N - No (something they're not willing to do, turn-offs)
will not physically hurt you unless he know's it's fine. the most he'll do is biting to mark you. he's still a bit cautious about your human physique. he sometimes forgets about his own strength and will leave bruises on your hips sometimes. he gets really guilty about that
O - Oral (preference in giving, or receiving, their skill, etc.)
he's more of a giver in this regard. he likes seeing you writhe in pleasure while he gives you head. pull his hair while he gives you head, he likes that. if you really wanna give him a blowie though, he'll be driven wild. will whimper
P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
more like slow and rough. he likes to tease you a bit by going back and forth from slow to fast. but he'll keep a good pace most of the time. when you're close to cumming, he'll go faster so you can chase your high
Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
loves a good quickie as much as the next guy. he'll do a quickie if he's really stressed though. it's a good release for you both. it's also a time when you can give him a blowie
R- Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he's down for most of everything. for some things you've gotta talk to him about it and probably explain what it is. but that's only for a few kinks.
S - Stamina (how long can they go for? how long do they last?)
this bitch is immortal. he's got stamina for days. You have to be the one to call things off for the night because it's most likely he can keep going. he can even go all night if you're up for it
T -Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he'll use toys, but you gotta be the one that owns them. he doesn't really have toys because of how isolated he was from humans before Lego Monkie kid began. he'll use the vibrator on you if you ask for it. hell, he'll even let you use a strap and peg him.
U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)
the definition of tease. he will edge you when you've been bad my guy. be fucking prepared. you have to like edging if you wanna have sex with him on a regular basis. he's not a monster tho, he'll let you cum, eventually
V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
it depends on if he's on top or bottom. if he's on top, he'll let out some grunts and even a groan or two while he's pounding into you. if you're on top, he will whimper. DO IT. MAKE HIM WHIMPER AND WHINE FOR YOU
W - Wild Card (a random headcanon about the character)
after all that's happened throughout LMK, Wukong wants to repair his relationship with Macaque. He knows that it's going to take a lot of work and patience, and it'll never be like how it was. but, he wants to give it a try. there's a part of him that still cares about Macaque.
X - X -ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
he's about average size (4-5 inches) but he's a shapeshifter, so he can change the size to experiment. he tried to make it nine inches and holy jesus you couldn't fit that in you without a bit of prep.
Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
he'll do it about 4-5 times a week. he won't do it when MK is over to train with him though. it's too much of a risk to have him walk in on you two. he can't risk having his student looking at him with disgust
Z - ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)
he'll clock out when you're all taken care of for the night. if you're having a bath afterward, he'll probably be out by then. once you get in the bed, he's reaching for you. it's cute
---------
okay, thank you for coming to my ted talk
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harunayuuka2060 · 8 months
Text
MC's employer: With all the experiences you have, you could've applied to a better job rather than to stay in this old, pathetic flower shop.
MC: You have accepted my application. Are you regretting it now?
Their employer: I mean, you look kind, reliable, and I'm sure I can depend on you but it makes me so guilty because I can only give you a minimum wage.
MC: That's enough for me, Miss. Now I'm getting back to work. You wouldn't want the customers waiting.
Their employer: Oh surely. Wish you luck again today!
MC: Thank you, Miss. *goes back to the counter*
*a customer walks in*
MC: Hello there. What can I get for you?
Customer: I'm here to buy flowers.
MC: Is it a gift for a special someone? We have a ready-made bouquet.
Customer: No. I want you to choose flowers for me according to this message. *hands them a note*
"Please forgive me and come back."
MC: Perfect. We have all the flowers that you need. Please give me a moment to arrange them.
Customer: Take your time.
MC: *arranges the bouquet; finishes it within minutes*
MC: *returns to the counter* Would you like me to attach this message?
Customer: ...
Customer: No. This will do. Thank you.
MC: Thank you for choosing Fragrant Fields. Have a nice day.
*The customer leaves.*
Asmo: How is it, Lucifer? Did they notice that it's you?
Lucifer: *removes his disguise* No.
Satan: I really thought they would see right through it. Is it because they're no longer a sorcerer?
Mammon: Man! Now what?
Belphie: How about we show up and ask them directly to come back in Devildom?
Levi: Wouldn't that make things awkward though?
Beel: Yeah. MC left Devildom three years ago. We should've done it sooner.
Mammon: Well that's because Barbatos wouldn't let us!
Lucifer: *sigh* Don't start arguing here. We'll think of another way.
MC: ...
MC: Miss?
Their employer: Yes?
MC: I've got a text from my landlady that there was a sudden problem in my apartment. Would it be alright to sleep at your house nearby?
Their employer: Sure. No one's using it anyway. Here's the key.
MC: *chuckles* Thank you, Miss. You're so kind.
Their employer: *waves her hand dismissively* Close the shop for me, okay?
MC: Yes, Miss. Take care.
Solomon: Hello? MC? How are you?
MC: I'm doing fine. By the way...
MC: I've met Lucifer here in the human world.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: Did he bother you?
MC: *chuckles* He was in disguise so... I'm not really sure.
MC: Maybe he's not here for me.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: I wouldn't be so sure about that.
Solomon: What reason does he have to be in the human world other than taking you back?
MC: What for? I'm no longer any use of them.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: MC, I want to visit you. It's been three years.
MC: ...
MC: After I buy myself a house, I promise to invite you.
Solomon: *whines* But when will that be?
MC: *chuckles* I'm hanging up. Please take care.
Solomon: Take care of yourself too, MC. I'll call you again.
MC: *ends the call*
MC: ...
MC: *smiles to themselves* Now I feel so much better.
Mammon: So what time are they going home?
Asmo: It's already late. Are you sure this is where they're staying?
Satan: Yes. I can't be wrong.
Belphie: *is in MC's bed* Satan is right. This is really their apartment.
Mammon: Then where are they?!
Beel: I'm guessing that MC had guessed we're all in the human world and they're avoiding us.
Levi: What do you think, Lucifer?
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: If that is the case, then I'm afraid I have to drag them back.
MC: *sleeping peacefully*
Luke: MC doesn't seem as exhausted as before.
Simeon: Hm-hm.
Luke: But Simeon, are you sure it's alright to see MC like this without them knowing?
Simeon: We just want to be sure that they're doing fine. And aren't you their guardian angel, Luke?
Luke: !!!
Luke: Y-Yes! I shouldn't feel guilty! It's my job to protect them!
Simeon: Shh. *smiles* You're going to wake them up.
Luke: R-Right...
Simeon: ...
Michael: MC is going to disappear soon.
Simeon: What do you mean by that?
Michael: ...
Michael: When a human disappears, wouldn't that only mean one thing?
Simeon: ...
Simeon: Please prevent it from occurring.
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imagine-silk · 5 months
Note
Hello! May I request fallout 4 companions (Nick especially) with Sole who shares the bare minimum of information about themselves? Not because Sole doesn’t trust them, they really enjoy theirs companions company. Perhaps they busy themselves so they don’t have to think about all the little and big things they miss. (I bet Codsworth would find pristine things that Sole would miss (like a favorite movie, vinyl, or comic?))
Sorry if its not something you’re interested in doing right now. The ask kinda came out as a ramble, I’m lacking sleep haha. Thanks again for considering my request!
》Honestly one of my favorite kinds of characters.
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【Cait】 She doesn't appreciate it. Her contract was traded to some random weirdo who barely says anything. It took three days before the topic of your name came up. And two weeks to know what you were looking for, who. But in return you don't ask what she does on her own time or what she's done. It feels like you don't mind rather than you don't care and that makes her feel seen. It stays between you unsaid in her eyes.
♡If romanced she doesn't push for any information. You'll tell her if it's important. People think it's weird the two of you to not share about yourselves like normal people but you're happy, that's all that matters.
【Codsworth】 It's just like it was before. He, unlike the others, already knows you. He knows you very well. Not only did you do an intake for daily preferences but he also served you for a few years. While you're out and about you'll do something or say something that sounds like no information to others or out of context and he'll answer, "Just as I was thinking as well." While you camp with some of the other companions he does chores the way you like without needing to ask, making comment on recent events, which makes them jealous for sure. He digs up things from the house he preserved or found and fixes them up brand new before presenting it to you. Songs you liked or wanted to hear. Movies and shows and comics. Clothes pressed for you and the furniture is redone the way it used to be. He knows you and wants to keep it that way.
【Curie】 Low-key doesn't care. She has one thing on her mind and that's her own goal to better medicine. Finding things to do that is all she needs of you. When she goes to be a synth her feelings overwhelm her and you guide her through that. She's never ever asked about you. She'll tell you about what she's feeling but never thinks to ask what you feel. In her defense, is doesn't understand the nuance of social interactions. And to her credit, it works for the both of you.
♡If she's romanced she realizes she wants to know what you feel and if it's the same as her. She's mostly interested in what you feel now rather than what your opinion is in the past or isn't currently relevant.
【Danse】 Right away he doesn't care for it. A mercenary who talks very little can be dangerous. But you followed orders well and are a damn good shot. The way he asks is more like demanding. It was all for a vetting process but still rude. After the intake he didn't care about your lack of openness. Didn't matter to him personally. After BB he suddenly regrets not knowing you. He was so rude and dismissed you as another faceless soldier and you saved him, from the Brotherhood and himself. Now he wants to know you.
♡If romanced he makes effort to know you, like really know you. For a long time he refused individuality so his own sense of self is not great. But you know yourself and make no attempt to hide it. You are so sure of yourself you don't need to explain. That's one of the things he loves about you.
【Deacon】 He thinks you're like him, that you want to hide in plain sight. As much as he gives that to you he's nosy as fuck and takes every chance to learn about you, mostly from afar. It doesn't take any time at all for him to realize you'll just tell him. Most of them are one word answers. It takes him even less time after that to realize you'll comment on things from before the war especially.
♡If romanced he goes out of his way to show you stuff. Old posters and toys. If you follow my headcanon that he's pre-war, he makes old references and generally adds comments on things to bait your answers.
【Hancock】 He thinks it's pretty cool. "Oh, tall, dark, and handsome/beautiful." He does play twenty questions with you 24/7 and is very happy with your half-answers because an answer is still an answer. Plus he knows at least two other people like you. He is the one who figures out that you just don't have the time or think about talking about yourself rather than purposely keeping secrets the fastest. He knows people so he knows better.
♡If romanced he plays with it. You want a kiss? Tell him what's your favorite color. He'll get on his knees if you tell him what you like about your new home. But honestly he'll do it anyways. All he needs to know is that you want him like he wants you.
【MacCready】 He was more concerned about you putting a bullet in his head while his back was turned. Everyone in the Commonwealth was looking out for number one. So imagine his surprise when you were looking out for your number one and it wasn't you. Not only were you looking for your son but you stopped to help every person who asked for help. Your actions spoke to him in a way your words, he figured, couldn't. You didn't need to help him but you did. You didn't take the caps back. And you killed the gunners the second they turned their guns on him even when they said their beef wasn't with you. It was what you did, not what you told him.
♡If romanced he will ask things. Basic ones are like, "How was your day?" Normal questions that are the peak of domestic life. Then the more personal things. Some sound silly, "What's your favorite color?" But most build off of a quick thing you said in passing, "Wait, you've been to California? What was it like?" He trusts you'll tell him the truth.
【Nick】 As a private detective this simply won't do. He gets it at first, you just need him to find your son, it's business. However, you want him to stay with you after that. It confuses him because you made no indication you like him in the slightest way. He's the second fastest to realize you're not keeping to yourself on purpose. As one of the only ones who are pre-war he's able to get things the others can't. He'll talk about things and give his options and bait you into answering it. That was a common way to get people to talk back then when you were trying to be polite and keep up the conversation, even if the conversation stays a bit thin.
♡If he's romanced he makes fun of the fact you forget to say things about yourself. Don't get it wrong, he makes it clear you don't need to share. He's just poking fun.
【Piper】 This simply won't do. She asks as many question as they come up but she gets depressing short answers. You either give one word answers or say you're not really in the mood, on some occasions you admit you don't know, you never thought about it. It takes a long time for her to stop and that's only because the questions start getting old. And you still feel like a mystery even though you've told her everything.
♡If she's romanced she realizes how much you've told her and pushes it. What is your type? How do your lips feel? Why do you look so good? It becomes playful and light, never serious.
【Preston】 In the beginning he didn't realize he didn't know much about you. He took your help selfishly to get him and his people back on stable ground but you told him you were happy to help. So he takes time to learn about you and give you everything he could possibly help you with. In hopes you would share by yourself he gives things to you without any prompt. It doesn't really work most of the time.
♡If romanced he asks things with hearts in his eyes. He is so lovesick he takes all of your half-answers and files it away in his mind. It hardly matters at that point.
【X6】 It wasn't his mission so he didn't care. You owed him no explanation or justification. Doesn't mean he doesn't question you. He asks why you helped someone, why you stopped for a distraction. And of course you give short answers like, "They needed help." or "I wanted to." Later, after the Institute is gone, he sees how you carry yourself and tries to copy it. Obviously he can't so you help him too. You showed him he can figure himself out by himself and he didn't need you. So he held the same opinion; he doesn't need to know you like that.
♡If romanced he's still comfortable with you keeping things to yourself. It's only after months of being together do you realize he's never asked you a personal question, that you've never shared anything that personal. When you bring that to him he tells you that hardly matters. But seeing you make the effort after that gives him a feeling he can't describe. It's a good feeling he thinks.
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌
(Masterlist)
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Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.
Until you realized you had to get off the bike.
“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.
He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.
“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”
You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.
You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.
You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.
“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.
You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.
Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.
“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”
Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”
“What’s on it?”
“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”
“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”
The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.
Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.
“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.
“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.
“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”
“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”
“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”
His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.
“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him
He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”
You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”
A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.
“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.
“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”
Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.
“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”
He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.
“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”
You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.
“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”
“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”
“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.
He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”
-
You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.
Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.
You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.
“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.
Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”
Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.
“That’s too bad.”
And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.
The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”
-
You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.
Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.
“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.
Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”
You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”
Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”
As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”
You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.
“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”
Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”
You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.
You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.
Is this okay?
You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.
It’s more than fine.
He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:
Just like the way you look in that costume.
He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.
Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.
“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”
“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.
Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.
The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.
Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.
Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.
And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.
The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.
You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.
“You okay, Cass?”
Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”
You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”
Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”
Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.
You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.
“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.
You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”
He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”
You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”
His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”
Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.
“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.
“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”
Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”
You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”
You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”
“A cute idiot.”
Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”
Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”
Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”
“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”
Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”
Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.
“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”
You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”
Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.
“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.
You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”
Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”
You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.
“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”
He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.
You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”
You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.
You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.
You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.
It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.
Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.
It was ridiculous. It was everything.
The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.
You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.
The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.
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teaboot · 4 months
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Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this
Does my long-winded rant make sense?
see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.
Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".
Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.
It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.
Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.
So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?
I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."
An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.
When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."
I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.
Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.
Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in
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