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sweetnothingtm · 4 months

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every man gets his wish // simon riley

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ "i learned how to make love from the movies" ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing simon x fem!reader

content pure unadulterated smut, maybe a daddy kink?

summary the one where ghost is obsessed w a camgirl

note based off my drabble, thank you for the love ♡ lmk if you want a part twooo

There’s a special place in hell for people like Simon Riley.

He could’ve gone to heaven - but he won’t.

Simon has vices. He has anger issues, and he doesn’t like to share. He doesn’t take precautions, he’s cocky with his wallet and he most certainly doesn’t take orders from anyone.

He’s impulsive, abrasive, and most importantly - Simon Riley only thinks with his dick.

You’re the opposite of him. Careful, gentle and patient, you come across as bubbly and approachable. The sparkle in your eyes just never seemed to die, and an innocent smile is always playing at your lips. You seem to embody everything that Simon could never be.

Not that he would know - you’re just an eager camgirl with a big audience.

Every night, Simon Riley comes crawling to you like a stray dog. It wasn’t meant to be this way, so vile and naughty and delicious. He swore it would only happen once, and yet here he is, pining after the taste of you. He always finds himself with his cock in his hands, eyes rolling up to the ceiling and filthy curses slipping past his lips.

You’ve already started - much to his disappointment.

He’s usually so punctual. Never wasting your time. Always appreciative of the way your eyes sparkle with adoration when he joins the stream. Today was no different - he was just a little too eager and spent the last hour jerking off to the thought of you.

And he’s gonna do it again

The room is cast in a soft glow, your legs tucked beneath you and the soft hum of music playing in the background. Your soft skin is covered in red lingerie, pillowy tits covered by the lace that he bought.

It’s a damn shame - the way Simon can’t be there to take it off himself.

In contrast to the natural shine you give off, Simon is drowned out by the dark moonlight. His body casually leans back against the headboard, eyes trained on the illuminated screen that separates you from him. While he is adorned in shadows, you shine with the soft glow of your exposed skin.

Your lips, pulled into a little pout. Your delicate fingers, dipping between your plush thighs. The ebbs and flow of your body, curves and blemishes that he’s memorized like he owns you.

It’s quite pathetic, really - how infatuated he’s become with a camgirl. But he can’t help himself. He’s got all your videos saved in a folder that he opens at every opportunity.

He’s cum to you more times than he can count, always groaning as the hot ropes of white liquid splatter against his skin. He’d tip you relentlessly, always accompanied by a foreboding message that sent chills along your spine.

Missed you, princess. What a good girl. Finished so soon? What a beautiful little slut.

Your hands are wrapped around a little pink toy that you push between your thighs. It hums against your skin, causing Simon to angrily palm himself through his pants. The sickeningly sweet sound of your gasp has him reeling, cock already beginning to twitch and drip with precum.

His hand continues to palm at it, ignoring the little stain that starts to form on his pants as you continue to stimulate yourself. You gently part your thighs, hair framing your face as you give him - yes, him - a little preview of his deepest desires.

You’re already wet, and he curses himself for being late today. Simon is memorizing the little bow on your panties, the way you push the vibrator against the soft fabric and let your little plump lips part for a moan.

He’s got a toothy grin, rubbing at the tip of his cock and imagining that it’s your delicate hands struggling to wrap around him.

You’d blink up at him with full and eager eyes, lip pulled between your teeth. You’d gently unzip his pants, fingernails dragging against his skin and causing his dick to perk up. He’d rub the pad of his thumb against your cheek, a nasty smirk plastered across his face.

Simon imagines that your tongue would give gentle licks against his irritated tip, that you’d hollow out your cheeks and suck him off until his cum is coating your throat. He would continue to lazily fuck your mouth, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you hummed against his cock.

The sound of your little gasps pulls him from the daydream, eyes sharply trained on the screen as you pull your panties to the side and rub the vibrator against your clit. Your chest is pressed outwards, nipples hard against the red lace that separates him from you.

Before he can stop himself, with his cock twitching underneath his touch and thumb rubbing softly over his tip, he absently clicks on the keyboard. It’s a good thing he’s got his card number memorized.

$250 from Ghost_Stalker

-smile pretty for me, princess.

You pause your movement, vibrator stuck between your folds as you writhe and twitch against it. You squint your eyes, rolling over the message once. Twice. Three times before a smile is tugging at your lips. A hand comes up to squeeze your tit, fingernails dragging against the lace as you lean into the camera and smile sweetly.

“hi ghost - i missed you.”

His belt hits the floor before you finish your sentence.

Your voice is thick like honey, laced with desire that Simon is convinced was meant just for him. The vibrator begins to move again, pressing into your wet core with a little squelch as you mewl out in pleasure.

He follows your pace, eyes fixated on the pink toy that dips in and out of your little pussy. It stretches you, pushing against your folds and humming against you.

Simon is messily jerking himself off as you roll your hips against the vibrator, letting soft pleas fall from your lips. He spits on the tip of his cock, palm rubbing it against his shaft as he grunts happily. The slick and lazy strokes mirror the way you rub the vibrator greedily against your clit, thighs parting like the gates of heaven.

He wants in.

When you pull the toy away from you, the sound of your dripping cunt follows along with it. You wiggle closer to the camera, eyes blown out with pleasure as you press the pink toy into your mouth and lick. Tongue sloppy, eyes rolling in ecstasy and hips bucking against the pillow underneath you.

$300 from Ghost_Stalker

-i missed you more princess. missed your pretty little pussy.

“prove it,” you challenge.

His head slams against the back of the chair, cock covered in his spit as the sounds of your soft laughter that plays from his screen. He bucks his hips up with his movements, imagining that your body is curled around him and bouncing on his lap.

Your nails would drag against his skin, leaving harsh red lines in their wake as he’d let his hand fly to your ass with a sickening smack.

You’d jump, grinding your mound into him with desperation as your perky tits rub against his chest. Simon imagines himself nipping, licking and biting at them, his dick throbbing at the way you’d drool out his name.

In his dreams, you’re an obedient little slut. Ever a tease, you’d bounce on his dick one minute and beg for a kiss the next. He’d wrap his hand around your throat, choking you until you’re seeing stars and begging him for more.

You’re chatting away with sleazy men who can’t afford you, and it makes Simon enraged. It’s him who matters. It’s him who should have your attention. It’s him who you should open your legs for. His stroking gets aggressive, jaw set and hardened as you blow kisses and make false promises. Simon is rubbing himself raw, his free hand going to cup his balls and gently squeeze.

And then someone asks you where you got your cute little outfit. And like the vixen you are, you smile sweetly into the camera and push your tits together.

“Oh? these? they were a gift from someone special.”

And it’s true. He’s your favorite. He’s the one who you’re dreaming of - and it’s embarrassing to pine after a man you’ve never met. But it’s washed away by the burning desire to please him. Only him.

He’s trying so hard to hang on. To regain some sense of normalcy as his dick continues to twitch and warmth spreads throughout his body like an inferno. His eyes are trained on your curves, the way you’ve got a smile lighting your face up as your hips grind into the soft pillow below you. He’s slapping the tip of his dick against his abdomen, letting the beads of precum splat against his skin and forever stain him a sinner.

Here he goes again, thinking with his dick.

$500 from Ghost_Stalker

-put on a good show for daddy.

And you do. The red lace has been slipped off of you, tossed to the side as you reach over and off the screen to grab something. A perfect angle of your tits in full view. Simon follows every movement. He licks his lips in anticipation, stomach heavy with desire.

You sheepishly pull the dildo out, smacking it against your outstretched tongue and dipping a hand between your legs. Dripping, wet beyond comprehension and Simon is lucky enough to watch as you curl your fingers inside your pussy and mewl.

His hips are rutting up, hand fisting his cock in desperation as you suck on the dildo while fingerfucking yourself. His chest is tight, sweat glistening against his skin while he watches intensely. So fucking wet.

You hope he’s watching. You’re praying that he’s jerking off to the sight of you. That you’re both staring up at the ceiling, eyes searching for the constellations that brought you together when the stars aligned.

Is it wrong? To want something that you’ve never known?

Simon can tell you’re becoming undone. You always get riled up with his words, eyes full of excitement as he showers you with attention every stream. In his fantasy, Simon thinks you wished that your delicate fingers were his. That you wanted him to slowly rub at your bud of nerves and press his fingers into your cunt. And then he’d have you sit on his cock and make him watch as he licked his fingers clean.

He can’t help himself when you’re like this, messy and needy on screen with your wet pussy smearing against the pillow that he wishes was his face. You’re whining and panting, fingers dipping in and out of your core as Simon picks up the pace and lets the heat travel up his skin and light him ablaze. Your voice is music to his ears.

“i’m so close- fuck. please, i- gonna cum.”

When you climax, your chest is heaving and a layer of sweat has covered your soft skin. Your hands are dancing across your soft tits, twisting at your hardened nipples that all but scream bite me. He’s smearing more spit all over himself, breath coming out in short pants and eyes dark and heavy.

The dildo rests against your folds, almost as if it’s taunting him. And so what if he blows all him money in one night? It’s going to a good cause - at least, that’s what he’s convinced himself.

$2500 from Ghost_Stalker

-again.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth at the message, ignoring the chat as it blows up at the extra show. You’re already eager, smacking the tip of the dildo against your folds and rolling your hips upwards.

“a little desperate tonight? i don’t mind - anything for daddy”

It takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. Simon feels like he’s died and been reborn. Like a siren has sung him to a peaceful sleep. Like the explanations for his bank statements are worth it. And when you press the tip of the toy into your dripping wet hole, it feels like Simon can practically smell your sickeningly sweet pussy.

He thinks it smells like candy.

You wince at every inch of silicone that slides into you. Your thighs are trembling, an arm propping yourself up as you whine and mewl like his favorite little kitten. The camera is shaking from your movements, head hung back in ecstasy as you bottom out the dildo and sigh happily.

Such a dirty slut, Simon muses. So nasty. At this point, his strokes are quick and methodical. Tugging at his tip that’s still producing precum, almost as if it’s desperate for release. His balls ache, his eyebrows are knitted in concentration and his abs are tight with anticipation.

“m’ so wet,” you gasp, the sounds of your pussy flitting against the dildo playing on repeat in Simon’s mind. Your thighs are spread fully, and your pillowy tits are jiggling with the movement of you fucking yourself. “are you watching?”

There’s a frenzy in the chat, a hundred eager men thinking that your words are meant for them. You raise yourself to your knees, angling to toy to press against your folds as you bite your lip. “i bet you are. guess what?” You breathe, eyes twinkling with mischief. “i wish you were here.”

Oh, how wrong they were.

He's close. The edge that he’s built is about to fall beneath him, collapse into a million pieces while you get drunk off the way the dildo slips in and out of you. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your chest is heaving, lungs struggling to take in air as you climb that high once more.

You whine and beg to yourself. Simon curses and lets his hips snap up against his stroking. His cock is unbearably hard, skin tingling with the sensation of pure lust that consumes him. You bounce and grind on the dildo with need, hair falling back against your bare shoulders as Simon drinks in every ounce of you.

Legs shaking, tits bouncing and hands coming up to play with your nipples, you look like a goddess. He’s never been so entranced, so enthralled and so obsessed. The way your nails dig into your skin, squeals of pleasure ripping through your stomach as you cum around the toy. You roll your hips greedily, savoring the orgasm and rubbing quick circles against your clit.

It’s all that it takes to have him squeezing the tip of his cock and shooting hot cum all over his stomach. It’s shameful, pathetic and downright heavenly. He promises that he’ll never cum to anyone but you.

The overstimulation has you reeling, chest heaving and eyes watering in excitement as a wave of pure bliss is crashing against you. The chat is singing praises to you, falling on deaf ears as you lazily still your hips and lean forward - dildo still firmly shoved in your pussy.

“are you satisfied?” You ask innocently. No, never. You don’t say his screen name, but it doesn’t matter, he knows it’s him you’re talking to. He knows by the way you slide off the toy, hair sticking to your skin as you slip on the red lace as a sign that the shows coming to an end. He knows by the way you dip your fingers between your wet folds, gathering the sticky cum around your digits - before you lick it off them like such a good girl.

He has to have you.

$5000 from Ghost_Stalker

-i’ll double it if you do it again

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

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They’re about 20 minutes into the movie when Steve feels the familiar dip of weight against his shoulder.

He can’t stop the pulse of fond bemusement that surges through him. After all, Eddie had insisted on picking the movie this week, insisted that it was “an unfathomable travesty” that Steve had never seen it, insisted they had to watch it despite the bruise-colored circles under his eyes, the discreet flex of his hands disguising the tremors he gets when he’s over exhausted. Steve says nothing, lets the movie run, and once Eddie conks out instead of switching to something more his speed, he keeps watching.

The movie’s not Steve’s taste, but it’s not bad. He hasn’t been big into cartoons since he was a kid. The animation is strange yet fascinating, the characters’ movements equal parts natural and off-putting. He drifts in and out of the story, though enough of Dustin and Eddie’s ramblings have sunk in that he’s able to follow along. Whenever a name or location he recognizes pops up he turns to Eddie and says, smugly, “I know what that is.” Eddie replies with a soft exhale that ends in a low hum. His breath skitters across Steve’s throat. Steve shivers.

Eddie’s got this little bank of noises he makes when he’s sleeping. When he crashes after drinking too much, he snores. When he’s asleep but not deep enough to rest, he mumbles—sometimes giggles, too, which is really unsettling if you’re not expecting it. And when he’s dreaming, good or bad, he hums.

They’ve been doing this—whatever this is—for long enough that Steve can tell when Eddie is having a good dream and when he’s having a bad dream. (It’s not weird, he counters to the tiny, horrible Robin voice that lives in his head.) The bad dream hums are low, dredged up from the base of his chest. The good dream hums are high, slipping out from behind his teeth. Steve can’t read music but he took chorus in middle school and he’s hung around Robin while she learned a new piece for band so he’s got an idea of how the note…thingy works. If Eddie’s dream sounds were a song, the good dreams would be at the top of the bar, and the bad dreams would be at the bottom.

Except now, as the movie nears its end, the song changes.

At some point Eddie’s legs had curled up beneath him, his face buried in the join between Steve’s shoulder and neck. Steve can’t hear as much as feel the noises vibrating against his skin. He feels the thrum of bad rising into good, then dipping into something in the middle and holding there. They’re stuck at the center of the stanza (Stanza! That’s what it’s called!) and Steve doesn’t know where to go from here.

“Eddie?”

The arm Eddie is leaning on has gone a little numb, so Steve uses the other to sweep aside the curtain of hair drawn across the side of Eddie’s face, his fingertips grazing his cheekbone. Eddie’s lips part. A new sound, a different sound escapes him. He pushes in close enough for those pink plush lips to press against Steve’s collarbone. Heat curves around the back of Steve’s ears.

“H~eeey.”

He doesn’t want to wake him if this is a good dream. Eddie’s an open book. Eddie’s told him he’s been sleeping like dogshit, that the night terrors have been particularly horrible this week. It’s a joke, a little. The two of them share weird hours. They create bits about how bad things are, how awful they feel about their relationships with people they love, how awful they feel about themselves. It’s fun, until it isn’t. Steve’s seen Eddie’s whole personality swallowed by the wet sand of sorrow. He’s seen him sink into himself and surface with something else, something bright and exuberant and loud and false. If Eddie feels good Steve doesn’t want to ruin it. But if Eddie feels bad—

“Hey.” Steve hooks his palm to rest beneath the ridge of Eddie’s jaw, his thumb pressed into his dimple. “Eddie. Wake up.” Eddie’s eyebrows cinch, a sigh gliding across Steve’s knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, dark and spidery, his lids hanging low over hazy eyes. He blinks, owlish, then tilts up to meet Steve’s gaze with a slow, dreamy smile. “Hi,” he whispers. “Hi,” Steve chuckles in reply.

“W…” Eddie’s mouth works like its full of sunflower seeds; deliberate, purposeful. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Why’dju stop?”

“Stop…what?” He glances to the muted blue static of the screen. “The movie’s over, bud.”

Eddie blinks again, slower. He’s so sweet like this, soft and syrupy, so when he breathes a laugh Steve can’t help but mirror it. “Oh,” Eddie exhales, then leans forward and kisses him.

The hum of Eddie’s dreams are now against Steve’s lips. Those lovely little middle sounds are now inside Steve’s mouth. He swallows them, feels them knife down his throat, wedge between his ribs, twist into the open valves of his heart. He pulls back.

Eddie giggles again. Pouts. “You stopped again.”

“Oh, honey,” The endearment wrenches out of him, involuntary. He smoothes the worry lines out of Eddie’s forehead. “You’re tired, huh?” Eddie makes a non-committal noise. “Okay.” Steve sets his feet and secures his arms behind Eddie’s back. “Okay,” he groans as he lifts him, spins him towards the stairs. “Okay. Time for bed.” Eddie’s still in a half-conscious limbo as Steve navigates him upstairs, mouthing indelicately at any piece of Steve’s skin he can find. It’s untenable, and Steve’s not proud at how he launches Eddie in the direction of his bed, sprints to the en suite to splash cold water on his face before helping him undress. “Take it,” Eddie murmurs when Steve unbuttons his jeans, and Steve needs to sit in the center of the floor for a moment before proceeding. “That’s not what this is.” “Wantchu t’aveit.” Steve shoves him into a pair of flannel pajama pants and stuffs him beneath the sheets. Eddie curves onto himself like a mollusk, and Steve sinks at his hip, brushing his bangs away from his closed eyes. Steve feels himself split down the middle: One part already downstairs; one part already nestled in the contours of Eddie’s body.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve says, and moves to stand. Eddie’s hand closes around his wrist. “Stay?” His eyes flit open, brief, earnest, pleading. “Please, stay.” And, well. They’re going to talk about it tomorrow. They’re going to talk about the movie they didn’t watch, and the moment they half-shared, and the reason its so hard to sleep apart yet so easy to sleep together. Not now. Now Steve shrugs into shorts and a t-shirt, slides in beside Eddie. Now, when Eddie’s limbs tangle around his own, he tugs him closer, lets something deep within himself settle. “Stay?” Eddie asks again. “Go to sleep, honey.”

And he does. And they do.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #my fanfic

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barbies1shots · 24 days

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based off this song !

" girl lay yo body down .. on this fuckin' couch –

open up yo legs , I'm gon work my mouth "

" try not to make a sound , this my momma house "

☆ - drool , body fluids ( cum, spit , tears , a little bit of snot ) , overstim , slight choking , dirty talk , squirting , PET NAMES! size kink (?) THINKIN BOUT DABI 😩

winter nights are usually for staying inside. inside where theres heat, maybe watching a movie with a friend. after your cold, you want to warm up right? so whats the best thing to do when your cold? have your man warm you up.

squelches filled the silent air around the living room where your spread out, stuffed hile hes fully dressed. the squelches of fingers being pushed into and out of something wet. muffled whimpers was like music to Dabi's ears. he snickers a bit as he sees you struggling to take his think fingers.

one hand has two fingers, his middle and ring in your mouth, holding its place at the back of your tongue. guaranteed restricting your sounds and making you slightly gag on his fingers. his other hand, two fingers plunged into your cunt. thrusting in and out at a rough pace, dragging his trimmed nails against your g-spot. his mouth ( as he said would be put to work ) sucks harshly on your clit. the action has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"going dumb for me already, baby? its only been a few minutes" he chuckles into your core as he watcher your thighs tremble with every harsh thrust of his fingers and suck of your clit. "hold out a bit for me. cant you do that much, my dumb girl?" he smirks wickedly and dives back in to run his thick tongue over your hole once he removed his fingers.

your hand reaches down to tug as his locks but he doesnt budge, his tongue presses open-mouthed kisses onto your whole cunt. the fingers in your mouth dig deeper and the lack of air turns you on even more.

the orgasm quickly approaches and you dont know weather run from it to try and give into the pleasure. your legs tighten around Dabi's head, basically capturing him there as your fingers dig into his scalp and his wrist which was down your mouth. your body completely tenses and a spray of clear liquid came squirting out, drenching the couch, his shirt, his face, his hair. "there we go, baby. let it allll out." he said, with a mean smirk as he saw your body basically shut down on itself. drool drips out of your mouth steadily as snot mixes with it. your tears dampens the couch under your head. your body twitches every few seconds while dabi pulls his fingers out of both your wet caverns, and you whimper pitifully. he sticks all fingers in his mouth, tasting everything while making a mess of his own with the mouth full.

"you taste so good, baby. i just cant get enough"

- saw the song on tiktok and thought teenager DABI would fit this

- Aizawas BARB !

#mha smut #dabi smut #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x black!reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #AIZAWASBARB!#Spotify

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

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With Playful land ending soon, can you try which part of the Halloween event is better which is either Playful Land or Glorious Masquerade? For example, the topic is characters and you picked Glorious Masquerade because of etc like that. (NRC cast design, NRC cast role, Yuu and Grimm's role, New character/s, Movie-inspiration event, Plot, Music, Place Setting, Opening, Ending) You can add more topics if you want.

By “better”, I’m going to assume you mean which (between Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land) I preferred in each of those categories? (I say "preferred" here because I'm judging based on my own tastes; obviously everyone will have a different opinion on how the two events compare.)

It’s quite a few to get through, so I’ll just quickly summarize each. This post will also serve as my general thoughts on Stage in Playful Land.

***Spoilers for those two events below the cut!!***

NRC cast design — I’d say the designs are pretty split down the center?? In theory, I love the concept of masquerade balls and marionettes, but in practice the designs look all over the place and I really only like a select few of them.

NRC cast role — GloMasq was stronger in this, especially the choices for the SSR trio. Malleus and Idia are a deliberate rival and foil to Rollo, whereas Azul’s UM comes in clutch during the final showdown. Meanwhile in Playful Land only Kalim seemed to be very significant story-wise; he was the one trying to convince everyone to sit down, eat, and try to understand Fellow’s motives, is the last to be captured, and gives the big speech about how he’ll never abandon his friends + the importance of school. Ace has his usual schtick of being brutally honest and there are some parts where Ortho’s robotic abilities come in handy (like playing sounds to distract the puppets), but these seem like very minor roles compared to what the GloMasq trio did. Perhaps they were good choices for the end when they all decided to destroy the amusement park though??

I also feel like some things the SSR trio does in Playful Land (like dispersing the puppets by using a “lost item”) could have been done by any smart or deceptive character (Leona, Vil, Cater, etc.), not just the SSRs (ie Ace). Furthermore, the other cast members in GloMasq seem much more important in how they split off and battle—there are good reasons or synergy given as to why they pair up the way they did (ie Riddle and Epel needing to be good flyers, Ruggie and Jamil willing to use others as meat shields, etc), while in Playful Land it seems more random (like Floyd losing interest) or obligatory (mostly the third years stepping up to defend the younger students).

It’s also anticlimactic how Fellow just let them all go??? Especially compared to Malleus, Idia, and Azul and Rollo squaring off to the bitter end.

Yuu and Grim’s role — Once again, this goes to GloMasq. In Playful Land, Yuu is automatically caged and tossed into a corner to wait it out to the climax. At least in GloMasq Yuu is actually doing something (even if it is offscreen): they’re with Grim and Trein, helping the townspeople from the flowers. (Note: I’m not entertaining the “but Yuu is magicless! It was a wasted opportunity for them not to have a bigger role in GloMasq!” thing because I’m talking only about canon and not hypotheticals here.)

New character(s) — … Do you even need to ask 😭 Obviously, I’m loyal to Roro-chan Rollo; I just find his story and character to be super interesting, especially with the root of his conflict being inner turmoil and an inability to move on… It makes him an excellent foil to Idia.

While I do also enjoy Fellow and Gidel, I feel that I’m not as invested in them because despite the terrible dark shit they're doing, the conflict they get wrapped up in gets resolved in an underwhelming manner. Plus, there was not a lot of elaboration on their own backstories?? It was mostly told to us via Fellow, yet kept so vague that the fans are left to fill in many missing details on their own. I’ll have another post out later going into more depth with how I feel about Fellow and Gidel.

Movie-inspiration — I think both events have their moments of film inspiration. A lot of GloMasq's comes through in the traditions and culture of the city, whereas Playful Land's are embedded into the games, foods, rides, and attractions in the park itself. Playful Land feels more overt because of how flashy everything is, but also because it's not really based on any real-world area (unlike the City of Flowers/Fleur City, which is fantasy Paris and therefore also has Paris elements) it has to stand on its own. They don't need to worry about developing a unique "culture" for a smaller area like a park; they can just cut loose and have everything be fun and whimsical like Pleasure Island is. For this reason, I feel that Playful Land has stronger movie ties.

Side note: I want to put out the disclaimer that I personally don’t think how much an event references its source material should be counted when evaluating the quality of its writing. Just because you mention things from the film or reinterpret them doesn’t mean the story itself is good.

Music — I’m going to give this one to Glorious Masquerade because while the tracks are nice for both (I love the dramatic bells in GloMasq and the eerie music box of Playful Land, and both songs with lyrics are also great!). However, the narrative context and meaning behind the songs with lyrics are very different, and I feel that this makes Let My Wish Resound performance that much more meaningful. Additionally, Playful Land introduced a sung version of Rave Up! Up! in part 3 (even if it was just the first half of it) whereas GloMasq saved its sung version for part 5, which grants us more time to get hype. (I also like the rhythmic/twistune of the boys dancing over the boys… idk, dancing and doing property damage for funsies.)

Opening — Both openings do a good job at building up the hype for the ominous events to come, but again GloMasq wins on a technicality… which is the quality of the evil laughs given during them 💀 Fellow’s is kinda weak (like it stutters and sounds like he’s out of breath), at least Rollo can do a slow, unabashed laugh like a proper villain/j

Setting — This one’s suuuuper subjective; I don’t really like amusement parks I know, I’m boring so that automatically means I don’t find Playful Land to be a compelling or interesting setting (even if it fits thematically). I’d much rather just be allowed to wander and explore a city unsupervised, get to learn about its history and culture by experiencing it myself. GloMasq’s City of Flowers/Fleur City allows Twisted Wonderland to be expanded so much more (like, thinking about how this city relates to other cities and countries), whereas one isolated floating park doesn’t add much to the overall world lore.

Plot — Playful Land was so… boring 🤡 I’M SORRY, IT’S TRUE (to me)????? Like, they were just aimlessly wandering around during the second half of the event (even though it should be obvious that Fellow is at the theater)???? While at least in GloMasq they knew where to go (the bell tower) right away and strategized around that… Plus, we keep switching perspectives between the captured boys and the action, which bogs down the pacing. GloMasq keeps the action going and only takes very brief pauses to check in on our villain for the evening. There was way too much time spent meandering and not enough time spent actually Doing Things in Playful Land.

Stakes — GloMasq’s were higher. This isn’t to say that higher stakes automatically means the event itself is good. It’s just that the same urgency isn’t present in Playful Land because the scope of it is not as grand. If the crimson flowers/fire lotuses spread, there is no stopping them—and it endangers many people, communities, industries, etc. if they do. Meanwhile, a handful of people go missing in Playful Land. It’s still tragic, and their losses will still impact their loved ones—however, that’s still on a smaller scale than what the flowers would have done to their world.

Ending — GloMasq trumps. It’s just perfect how Rollo indicates he won’t give up and then drops ominous lines foreshadowing Malleus bringing ruin to them all (ie book 7) 😂 Love the pettiness of the banter, the ballroom setting, the perfectly timed delivery of the gift/song, and especially how Rollo’s punishment was so perfectly fitting for someone as neurotic and self-righteous as he is!! Also loved little details like the gargoyle and Trein wanting to keep an eye on Rollo 💕

The conflict resolution for Playful Land felt like a deus ex machina…? Fellow’s literally about to win (he caught them all) and the boys get let off the hook because Fellow had a change of heart. The boss told him it will cost a lot to repair the destroyed puppets so it’s coming out of his paycheck… That, and I guess all the stuff the boys were saying about how great school is finally got to him? Fellow got so fed up he called the whole thing off???? So he releases everyone and they all go around busting up the park???? I mean, they did foreshadow it by pointing out earlier how Fellow isn’t loyal to his boss + showing more phone calls where the boss is getting increasingly annoyed 💦 so it’s not as anticlimactic as Endless Halloween Night (one of my least liked events). I just mainly dislike how the conflict is triggered in part by Fellow’s boss being rude 😭 Like damn, what if his final straw hadn’t been claimed??? Then everyone is screwed.

At the very end, Fellow and Gidel decide to go on the run?? Which… isn’t an easy thing to do but it’s hand waved away so fast. If the staff meant for it to feel this way because the original Pinocchio also left Honest John and Gideon’s fates ambiguous and they did show remorse for their victims 💦 idk, it’s cases like this that make me think TWST is at its best when it does more of its own thing rather than strongly stick to the source material…

I also have?? Mixed thoughts on how TWST doesn’t follow up on the whole “yeah a bunch of rich people are caught up in running a human trafficking operation using this scary ass magic”. I know crime must exist in TWST, so in a sense this is… realistic??? But it feels odd to see such a big thing being casually mentioned and not being treated with full gravity?? (Maybe these are the types of crimes that special mage police defense forces (like the one Deuce wants to join) investigate??) Guess that’s just going to sit in the back of our heads from now on… It’s not satisfying seeing a story “end” like this, but I understand why it had to be 😭

The cathartic release of breaking down the park that once trapped them all is fun, but too goofy. I know it symbolizes a lot more than that, but it’s just not for me.

And so (to no one's surprise, given the frequency with which I talk about R*llo), I much prefer Glorious Masquerade to Stage in Playful Land. It's not even a contest to me. A certain pseudo-French boy aside, I just think the former has much better writing overall. By comparison, Stage in Playful Land has a very strong aesthetic and start, but not much else to keep me engaged??? It was an entertaining if not mid event aside from the big scare when the twist is initially revealed (because none of us expected it to be that dark) and minor other parts like Kalim’s big speech. The rest of the event felt like walking around and not doing anything useful.

I honestly think the failure of Playful Land to execute on its ideas comes in part from the hype of Halloween events (like, so much attention is put onto them that when Halloween events flop, it is SUPER noticeable) and the legacy of GloMasq (which set the bar VERY high) 💦 A shame, really…

Anyway, round of applause for Roro, who stays winnin’--

128 notes · View notes

mushrubes · 5 months

Text

Secret santa

Masterlist | Resident Evil masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Leon Kennedy by @/moolvn}

Pairing : rookie!Leon Kennedy x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 1.8k

Content: Swear words, mutual pinning, slightly ooc :)

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–-

Leon was decorating a Christmas tree in the lobby of the police station when he noticed you walk in. The partner who he has a secret crush on and has to buy a gift for during the RPD's Secret Santa event. He smiled and waved you over, handing you a few ornaments so you could decorate together. “Hey, uh, I was talking to the who is assigned to you for Secret Santa. They wanted me to ask what you want for Christmas.” He’s terrible at keeping secrets, so you’re bound to find out it’s him. "Oh! uh…let me think." you smiled softly as you put a few ornaments on. "I don't have anything in particular but I could tell you my interests?"

Leon blushed. He definitely shouldn’t have signed up for this event. "Go ahead, I don’t mind." He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, waiting for you to tell him more. "Well...I like music, video games…" you listed off, picking up a few more ornaments and helping to decorate. "What kind of music?" Leon leaned a little closer. His cheeks were turning red. "What type of games do you like?" He smirked, his puppy dog eyes full of hope, wondering whether or not you would talk about any that he has played before. "For music, pretty much anything - as long as it's not country." you laughed gently, seeing him agree.

"I completely agree." Leon nodded and felt relieved that he was on the same page about country music. "What about games?" He glanced over at the clock, wondering how much longer he could put off making the big reveal that he's your Santa. "As for games…I really like the story games. Some of my favourites are Red Dead and the last of Us." you responded, eyes sparkling at the thought of the games. "Those are my favourites, too!" Leon perked up. It’s like you two can read each other's minds. He smiled and continued helping you decorate the tree, trying to maintain a poker face while he felt every ounce of his feelings for you building up inside. "No way!" You laughed, face lighting up.

Leon couldn’t contain himself anymore. The blush spread on his cheeks. His heart was pounding so hard it sounded like thunder. He hoped you didn’t see just how much he was starting to fall in love with you. “Yeah, way! You have such good taste in games!” Leon tried, but he could not keep from glancing at you. "We should play together sometime," you suggested, cheeks lightly red as you looked at him. Leon couldn’t believe his ears. It was like all of his Christmas wishes came true at once. He was so excited. Was that an invitation for us to…actually play together? Leon wanted this so badly. It would be like some sort of romantic movie dreamdate. Just sitting on the couch playing games with the person of your dreams. He was already sweating just thinking about it. “I would love to play with you!”

"What about you? what do you hope to get for secret Santa? what do you like?" you asked, wanting to get to know him a bit better. “Hmmm.” Leon had never even thought about that question. He couldn’t care less about the gift he would receive. In fact, he was more excited about what gift he was giving to you. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it was from him… He didn’t mention any of that, of course. “Just something that I would be able to use for work. Maybe like, a new handgun or something?” You nodded, humming as you finished putting the lights on the tree. "That would be a good present." Leon chuckled to himself. He didn't really care about receiving a new gun at all. He just wanted to come across as manly and tough. That was all. He looked up when he heard you hum. That was quite pretty. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with them right now. "What are you humming?"

"oh, just a song by my favourite band, Sleep Token." you smiled at him, continuing to hum. Leon was stunned. It felt like you read his mind again. Sleep Token? He loved Sleep Token. He didn’t think there were many other people out there who listened to them “You like Sleep Token?” Is this person too perfect? You nodded, eyes widening slightly as you realised. "yeah. do you listen to them too?" Leon was shocked. How was this happening? What are the odds that the Secret Santa that would be giving you a gift is obsessed with some of your favourite bands? "They're my favourite band. What songs are your favourite? Mine are Jaws and Hypnosis, they're like one long song. I can't listen to one without the other."

"No way! Mine are Granite and the love you want!" You grinned, eyes lingering on him slightly too long before continuing to finish the lights on the tree. "We're pretty alike, huh?" Leon was in awe of how perfectly you seemed to align with all of his interests. "We have excellent taste in music, that's for sure." Leon couldn’t stop glancing at you, smiling from ear to ear. This felt like a dream. "I don't think I know anyone who loves Sleep Token as much as I do. It really is my favourite band, and I listen to them pretty much all the time."

"I was hoping to get tickets to their concert but they're all sold out." You sighed softly, chuckling gently. "that would be the best present ever." A lightbulb went off inside Leon’s head. Is this what I think it is?? “You wanted to see them in concert? But you couldn’t get tickets?” Leon thought about the tickets he got from a friend just a few days ago. Tickets to…Sleep Token. The greatest present he could give. You gasped softly as you noticed the time on the clock "I should go get ready for the party. I'll see you later?" you smiled softly at him.

Leon smiled. He couldn’t believe he got so lucky to end up as your partner this year. He couldn’t wait for the secret to be revealed so he could finally tell you how much he loves you. “Yeah, I'll see you later.” Leon leaned in, trying to keep it subtle, but he couldn’t resist a quick kiss on your cheek before watching you leave.

--------

Leon anxiously scanned the crowd trying to find you. He was holding an oddly shaped present covered in Christmas wrap and ribbon. As the room filled with more and more people, Leon began sweating from how anxious he was to find you. What if someone took your present before you got there? Or even worse, somebody else already gave you a gift, before he even got a chance to. "Leon!" You called, waving as you made your way over to him, a present in your hand. Leon’s eyes lit up when he saw it was you. His heart beat quickly. He was trying to hide a nervous sweat. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Leon noticed you had already found a present. Oh no…did someone get to you first?

"Merry Christmas." you grinned, handing it to him "I'm your secret Santa." Leon’s eyes lit up. He cannot believe his ears. This is really happening? “I’m yours as well? No way! This is so crazy.” Leon cannot contain himself. The blush on his cheeks is spreading across his entire face. It’s just so crazy how much we have in common with each other. He takes the present and quickly unwraps it, wanting to see what you got for him. Leon’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Not only was it the exact handgun he would’ve asked for, but it had all of his favourite elements engraved on it, and the lyrics from his favourite Sleep Token song. This wasn’t just his favourite gun, this was his dream gun. “You actually got me…I…I cannot believe how much you paid attention to what I said.”

"I'm yours as well? Are you my secret Santa too?" you giggled softly, cupping his cheek. "I'm glad you like it." The blush on Leon’s cheeks continued to grow as you touched his cheek. He felt like he was in a dream. The person who he was completely in love with had a secret Santa gift for him that was even better than the one he was going to give them. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to end up with such a beautiful person as you as his secret Santa partner. “Yeah, haha. I am yours as well. Here, let me give it to you.” He smiled at you nervously as he pulled the present he had in his other hand out of his coat. your eyebrows furrowed softly as you opened the wrapping paper and the envelope, eyes widening and a gasp escaping as you saw the tickets. "you didn't."

“But I did!” Leon couldn’t believe how much he’d fallen for this person. How much he was willing to spoil them. How much he valued them. If only they knew how much I really loved them, then we’d be a happy couple instead of just partners. The tickets were two, and they were front row for Sleep Token. Not just any tickets, but the ones most people would kill to get their hands on. "But they were sold out, how did you-" Your face was lit up, eyes welled out of excitement. Leon laughed. There was no way he was ever going to let you know how he’d gotten them, but he was having too much fun playing with you. “I worked my magic to get them.” He smirked.

He couldn’t wait to spend time with you at the concert. “Are you excited?” You laughed softly, nodding as your happy tears escaped, hugging him tightly. "Very. Thank you, le. they're the best present ever." Leon's heart pounded like a drum. This was it. they were in his arms. They were hugging. He could smell their perfume. He couldn't wait to spend the evening with them, watching their eyes shine as Sleep Token performed on stage. Leon smiled as he couldn't help but hug them back. "You're welcome. I wanted to make sure you could finally go see them in concert." "

Hey…" You paused for a second, cheeks tinting as you looked up at him. "Maybe…maybe we could make it a date?" You asked nervously, a cheeky grin on your face. Leon’s heart skipped multiple beats. A date? Do you mean a romantic date? He wasn’t quite sure he had heard you correctly, but he was now even more surer than ever how much he’d fallen for you. A date would be like living the dream. It would be like the best Christmas present he could ever get. It would be…perfect. He smiled, nodding his head and letting out a giddy laugh.

“I would love that.”

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

A Dead Man & his Raven

chapter 3.

Note: happy spooky season! this fic is inspired by The Crow, Sihtric being based on Eric Draven. Direct follow up to Chapter 2. Several quotes from the movie and comic are used in the following chapters, they are marked bold, as they are not my own. The poem near the end is my own.

Warning for entire series: 18+! angst/fluff. this story deals with death, losing a loved one, depression, suicidal thoughts/attempts (no details), murder (described), violence. There is also a lot of fluff, but you have been warned.

Warnings for this chapter: angst/fluff. mention of death and detailed violence.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric started what he came back for, while flashbacks of your lives together kept haunting you both.

wordcount: 3,2k

Masterlist

'I'm falling in love with you.'

'Hello?' Sihtric's voice sounded while you heard faint rock music in the background.

'Sihtric, hey, eh… it's me,' you chuckled shyly as you held your phone to your ear.

'That means you got my flowers,' Sihtric said, and you could hear him smile, 'did you like the roses?'

'They are beautiful. Truly, thank you,' you said, 'you're so sweet.'

'Oh, yeah, you know,' Sihtric mumbled, and he was glad you couldn't see his flushed cheeks right now. He cleared his throat. 'So, uhm, do you want to come over tonight?'

'To your place?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric said, 'I promise it's not that much of a mess anymore. It's safe to come over now.'

'Well, I guess then I have to come over.'

'I guess so,' Sihtric chuckled, 'how about I make you dinner? And then if you're not sick of me yet afterwards, we can figure out something else to do.'

'I don't think I could get sick of you,' you said, barely louder than a whisper, with cheeks that already hurt from smiling.

After death.

Sihtric had his arms around you as you slept, your back pressed against his chest, and his face buried in your neck. He had kissed you endlessly until you fell asleep, in bed, under the roof window on which the rain still poured down. And even when you were sleeping, Sihtric kept pressing his lips onto your skin in between his soft whispers, words of which you would never know he had spoken.

'My love,' he whispered, 'my angel, I love you so,' he squeezed you carefully in his arms, 'only the gods know how much I love you. Only the gods know how much I'm hurting without you. Dying is not the worst thing that could happen to someone. The worst part comes after, when you're all alone.'

He brushed his lips lightly over your neck and inhaled your scent deeply.

'Only the gods know how much I miss you,' Sihtric whispered, 'how much I miss your smile. That beautiful smile of yours that you hate so much. The smile that always warmed my soul and set a fire inside me.'

He softly traced his fingertips over your cheek.

'I miss your lips,' Sihtric hummed softly when he recalled the taste and feeling of your kiss, 'I miss the feeling of your lips softly kissing my bruises, after I once again fell on the streets with my skateboard, because the roads were too slippery. You always told me to not skateboard in the rain,' he chuckled quietly, 'but I still did. Knowing it was a hazard, and knowing that if I'd gain a bruise or two, you'd always kiss me better. Sometimes I even fell on purpose,' he had to hold back a mischievous chuckle, then he hummed again and kissed your jaw, 'the feeling of your lips on my skin was worth every bruise I ever got. And I miss your never ending kisses after we made love. Gods,' he sighed and closed his eyes, his fingertips moving down your bare body, to your thighs, 'how I miss making love to you, my angel. I miss being so close to you,' he swallowed hard, 'nothing could ever compare to that pure bliss of being intimate with you. I miss your love. I miss your laugh, your hugs, your kisses, your tears of joy, your warmth. Fuck, baby,' he sighed and whined softly, 'I just miss you and every little thing about you, and it is unbearable.'

He laced his fingers carefully with yours, feeling the engagement ring you still wore around your finger. Sihtric wept in silence, dragging his trembling lips over your skin as you slept peacefully in his arms, unaware of how he was being torn apart in the darkness of dawn.

'We were supposed to celebrate our first wedding anniversary today,' he whispered, his soft voice trembling as he sniffled, 'we were supposed to go out, get drunk and have fun. And afterwards, back home again, we were supposed to make love. And it would have been messy and sloppy, but so fucking hot,' he inhaled sharply, 'the way it always was when we had one too many to drink.' He sighed softly. 'But instead of hearing my name spill from your lips,' he whispered, then exhaled sharply, 'I'll be spilling the blood of those who took that all away from me.'

And then, in the early morning while you slept, a raven appeared at the window. Sihtric carefully moved out of the bed, making sure you didn't wake up, and he went downstairs. Since he was a dead man, he knew he had to cover his face if he'd go out and haunt the streets to stalk his prey. His fingers traced over the black and white painted mask that hung onto the corner of a mirror, one of the several masks he once bought and had often used to scare you with, by hiding his face behind it and sneaking up on you. Sihtric stared at the mask for a long moment.

Too impractical, he thought.

But when his eyes landed on a few of your make-up brushes and a box of face paint, which were on the table underneath the mirror, he felt his sick grin tug at his lips again, having found the solution.

It's Halloween afterall.

The second date.

'So what will you be making?' you smiled as you followed Sihtric into his kitchen, after having found his small apartment, hidden in the city centre.

You quickly glanced around his place, seeing a bunch of black and white polaroids pinned up on a board, many of them seemed to be of his bandmates. You still couldn't believe someone like Sihtric was so sweet that he had shipped you flowers, while you completely expected him to disappear once you had slept with him the night before.

'Pasta,' Sihtric said, 'I'll be making pasta. I know it's not original-'

He stopped talking after he opened a cupboard, staring inside.

'It's not original, but?' you asked.

'Fuck,' he groaned.

'What is it? I like pasta, don't worry-'

'No, no,' he said, 'I… I'm out of pasta.'

'Oh.'

Sihtric groaned again and closed the cupboard.

'I'm so sorry, I swear I'm not always this much of an idiot,' he buried his face in his hands, 'I've just been in such a rush today, and then when you called me I was all… I became all nervous and thought it was a good idea to invite you over, but I can't even think straight when I talk to you and… ah, fuck,' he hissed, raking his fingers through his hair, 'and I overshare.'

You stared at Sihtric, whose cheeks were all rosy by now and you laughed behind your hands.

'You must think I'm the dumbest guy ever,' he chuckled.

'No,' you smiled, 'I think you're the sweetest guy ever. Perhaps… we could order pizza?' you suggested, to which Sihtric smiled and nodded.

About an hour later you were both greedily eating your pizzas. You both kept complaining how hot the food was, while neither of you slowed down, and so repeatedly burned your lips and the inside of your mouths, continuing the endless cursing and complaining as you laughed at each other.

'So,' you said with your mouth full, 'what time do you want me to leave?'

'Leave?' Sihtric furrowed his brow as a string of cheese hung between his lips and the pizza slice in his hands, 'I don't want you to leave tonight.'

You stared at Sihtric as he awkwardly tried to eat the continuously longer getting cheese string, until it snapped loose from the pizza and stuck to his chin. And when he met your eyes, he froze.

'Fuck,' he sighed, 'sorry, did that sound creepy? I didn't mean to come off creepy-'

You chuckled as he began to ramble again.

'You're so adorable,' you smiled, and you saw his worry fade away.

'Only when I embarrass myself, I suppose,' Sihtric mumbled.

And so, hours later when midnight neared, you still sat on his couch, with his arms wrapped around you. The tv made for soft background noise while Sihtric slowly left soft kisses on your neck, before he finally kissed your lips. And you both couldn't recall how long you kissed for that evening, on his couch, and the kiss was only broken to give both your nearly bruised lips some time to heal.

'Can I take a picture of you?' Sihtric whispered.

'A picture?' you smiled, 'what kind of picture?'

'Another hobby of mine,' Sihtric chuckled, 'I have an old polaroid camera, takes black and white photos. I'd like to have a photo of you I can keep, so I can always look at you when you're not around.'

You giggled shyly and agreed, but only if he would let you take one of him that you got to keep, which he agreed too as well.

'Come with me,' he smiled and took your hand, leading you into his bedroom.

Sihtric took his camera and, after you sat down on his bed, he gently pushed you to lay back. He moved to sit on top of you and he leaned in to kiss you, ever so slowly once again, making you feel desperate with need for more of him. Then, just before you got lost in each other again, Sihtric sat back up while you still had your eyes closed, catching your breath.

'Angel,' Sihtric whispered as he brought his camera up to his face, 'I'm falling in love with you.'

And upon hearing those words you opened your eyes, and Sihtric then captured your big eyes, accompanied by your shy smile, which would always remain to be his favourite photo he ever took of you. Because right after he snapped it, you told him you were falling in love with him too.

Sihtric Kjartansson sends his regards.

When it was still dark outside in the early morning, Sihtric pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. He traced his fingertips over the first picture he took of you, which hung inside the closet where you kept his clothes after he had died. A pained smile appeared as he recalled the memory. He had fallen in love with you, fast, and that evening when you first came over to his place, he knew he was going to marry you. And yet he never did. Sihtric took the photo and carefully tucked it inside the inner pocket of his long, leather jacket.

Dressed in all black, the same clothes he wore the night he was murdered, he snuck out of the loft, onto the dark and quiet streets, moving like a ghost in the shadows of the city.

It can't rain all the time, he thought as the pouring rain still fell down, and yet it seems like it always does.

He looked up towards the sky, closed his eyes and spread his arms, as if welcoming the cold, hard rain onto his face. And when the raven flew over, guiding him to his first victim, Sihtric laughed. A maniacal laugh, and it echoed through the quiet street.

'What's so hilarious?' a guy asked, looking Sihtric up and down as he closed in.

Sihtric turned to face the man, who he remembered all too well. Bloodhair. This guy had been on the receiving end of Sihtric's dagger before he got shot. And when Bloodhair saw Sihtric's face, he stopped walking.

'The fuck are you dressed up as?' he asked, seeing Sihtric's black and white painted face, then he scoffed, 'starting Halloween early in the morning already? Fucking freak.'

Sihtric didn't speak, instead, he smiled at him for an awkward amount of time.

'I asked you something!' Bloodhair snarled, 'the fuck are you dressed up as?'

'Oh, me?' Sihtric feigned surprise as he looked around, 'you want to know what I'm dressed up as?'

'Who else, you fucking clown!'

'Can't you tell?' Sihtric frowned, 'is it not obvious? Is my face paint too much to make out what I am supposed to be? Who I am supposed to be?'

'The fuck are you rambling about?' Bloodhair growled.

'I,' Sihtric said as he took a step closer, 'am the last thing you will ever see.'

And before Bloodhair could react, Sihtric threw his dagger, which landed right in the same spot where Sihtric had stabbed him last year. Bloodhair let out a pathetic pained groan as he fell back, into a large puddle of water, which blended nicely with his blood. Sihtric stalked towards the crying man who struggled to get up, and he pushed him back down into the puddle with his leather boot, then he crouched down and pulled his dagger out of Bloodhair's shoulder. Which earned him another pathetic scream.

'Do you remember me now?' Sihtric asked, staring intensely into the man's eyes.

'N-no,' he stammered, 'please, let me go. I… I have a family.'

'You have a family? Awh,' Sihtric pouted, then clicked his tongue, 'you know, I really wanted a family of my own too someday.'

'W-well, it's… it's never t-too late,' Bloodhair said and tried to smile.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed, then grinned, 'I have a message you need to deliver to your friends.'

'W-what m…message?'

'Tell them,' Sihtric leaned in, 'Death comes for them.'

'What?' Bloodhair yelled, panicked.

'Tell them Death is coming for them tonight, and you have seen him. Tell them… Death was the last thing you ever saw. Tell them,' Sihtric paused, holding the dagger up to the man's terrified face, 'tell them Sihtric Kjartansson sends his regards.'

'Sihtric Kjartansson?' Bloodhair asked, confused and out of breath, 'no, man. No, Sihtric, he… he died! Last year!'

'I did,' Sihtric whispered.

And then, without another word, Sihtric shoved his dagger into the Bloodhair's eye. Wriggling, slicing and digging around in the eye socket as Bloodhair screamed out in agony. And Sihtric continued until he held both eyeballs in his pale, blooded hands.

'I'll be seeing you around,' Sihtric chuckled as he placed the eyes in the Bloodhair's hand, who then passed out.

You woke up about an hour after Sihtric had left, and you had a deja vu. You felt a sadness crawl into you as you realised your bed was empty, apart from you, but then you heard the bathroom door downstairs open and close. Sihtric walked up the stairs, shirtless, dressed in just his leather jeans, and he climbed in bed with you. He took your face and kissed you desperately, eagerly and passionately.

'Where have you been?' you whispered once your lips felt swollen.

'I just needed some air, my love,' Sihtric lied, to protect you, 'needed to clear my head.'

'Are you okay?' you asked, tucking a wet strand of his long hair behind his ear.

'I couldn't be better,' he kissed your lips softly, 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' you giggled, and Sihtric flipped you over on your back.

And as if he had never left you, as if you hadn't slept alone for a whole year, you made love with Sihtric for hours, as if he was still alive. And afterwards, when you had cried in each other's arms, you told him you had to get up and get dressed, as you had to get some groceries.

'I can't go with you,' Sihtric whispered as he held your hand.

'I know,' you smiled and cupped his cheeks as you stood next to the bed Sihtric sat upon, 'how could I ever explain you next to me on the street?' you chuckled softly, 'I will be back soon.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

You kissed his lips and closed the door behind you, and Sihtric stared up at the roof window, on which rain still trickled down. The sun had risen by now, yet he would never see her again. Instead, trapped in his own darkness, he went through a few drawers and found his notebook with a few pencils, and he sat down on the floor, writing down the words that spiralled inside his head.

When the veil is thin and the october air is cold as my bones listen, my angel as the wind cries for it carries my whispers

My love come and look for me in the depths of the earth and wake me from my lifeless sleep from this endless nightmare without you

Ever since I left you have only been half alive let me take your breath away once more and join me here where time has got nothing on us for everyone second together is an everlasting memory we can take to our grave where we will be together again in eternity

And my heart oh, how we once swore many moons ago what's mine if yours listen, my angel for I can't hear anything or feel anything inside your chest anymore

Listen, my angel as the wind howls let my haunting whispers guide you back to me to the depths of the earth and when you join me close my casket once more for this time will be the last time

Come take my hand, my angel fall with me, I will protect you for I will wrap my burning wings around you

'Hey!' someone yelled, and you looked over your shoulder.

'Finan?' you frowned while you shoved your groceries in the trunk of your car.

Finan was the cop who had investigated Sihtric's murder, and he always kept an eye out for you ever since. Whenever he saw you, he'd always ask how you were doing or if you needed anything. You appreciated Finan, but never allowed him to get close, despite knowing he was married and never had any other intentions other than being genuinely concerned about you after having lost your fiancé. Finan was the one who told you a few days after Sihtric got shot in the head, that the guy who fired the gun was called Cnut. Cnut and his friends, Bloodhair, Skorpa and Haesten, were part of a biker gang that terrorised the town for years. And on last year's Devil's night, they had been pestering the streets. Robbing innocent bypassers so they could score some drugs, which explained why they weren't on their bikes that night, as they had been high and drunk since noon already.

'You okay?' you smiled at the cop, 'you look a little pale.'

'Yeah, eh,' Finan chuckled nervously, 'listen, I, ehh… I have some… weird… weird news.'

'Oh?' you leaned against your car as you studied the pained look on Finan's face.

'I know this time of year is really hard for you, and I mean no disrespect, but I… I have to ask if you know anything about this.'

'About what?'

'This morning,' Finan said, cautiously, 'we… we found Bloodhair.'

You felt your stomach turn at the name of the man who had grabbed your fiancé last year, and you remembered how Sihtric had stabbed him while Skorpa had pulled you away from Sihtric.

'B-bloodhair?' you swallowed hard, 'is he… dead?'

'No,' Finan said, 'he, eh, he… he… we found him with his eyes cut out. A huge raven sat on his chest, pecking at his empty sockets. His… his eyes were placed in his hands,' Finan continued, 'he's still alive. When we asked what happened,' Finan paused and looked at you, as you were deprived of colour by now, 'he said that… he said that Death came for him and his friends. He said… God,' Finan groaned, 'Bloodhair said the man who claimed he was Death had a message. He said that… that Sihtric Kjartansson sends his regards. I know this is the worst time, and I- I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Do you know anything about this?'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk #tlk x reader #tlk fanfic #modern!sihtric

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smuttyaf · 7 months

Text

SouthSide Serpent

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: R

features; childhood friends to lovers, loverboy ashton, literally ashton has been pining for y/n, & sum good old smut :)

a/n: idek what to say but hi! i’ve been in retirement for like 4 years and rediscovered this account. i got nostalgic & decided… shit why not write again?

please cut me sum slack tho! i wrote this on my notes app & it’s been years since i’ve written so i would love to hear feedback!

& yes i am hella descriptive and like to build suspense! i can’t help it >.<

also! y/n is heavily based on serena from mtv downtown ( i love her ) & this picture of ashton ( xx )

The crisp October breeze blew through your hair as the dull taste of your cigarette burns on your tongue; your forefinger and middle finger clenching the nicotine filled paper and pressing it against your lips, drawing in the vapour.

Your head nods along to the music playing before you just two doors down on the opposite side of your street. There was Ashton and his band, either playing covers of their current favourite songs, oldies, or new ones that they’ve all come together and created.

The usual guitar flow and drum beat of Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs blasted through the speakers in the garage as the sound of Luke’s voice sang along on top of the tune.

You hum along to the lyrics as you glared in the direction, your lips peeling away from the filter and letting the smoke settle in your lungs before releasing it. The four boys were all dressed in their usual attire: white shirt, black trousers, beat up old chunky Doc Martins, and their signature SouthSide Serpents leather jackets.

As the wind picks up again you let your free hand tear away from your windowsill and tug the flying strays of your hair in front of your face behind your ear, the chipped black polish on your almond nails coming into view as you remind yourself you needed to get them done.

The bridge of the song is now blaring down the street, causing you to raise your cigarette back to your lips and think to yourself, what a coincidence this song is playing; the lyrics, the time frame, and the memories that all come flowing back as you hear the familiar melody.

It was 2009 and Ashton had invited you over during Christmas break to play Garage Band since Santa gifted it to him because that was the only thing he asked for on his wish list. You were both 8, banging on the drums and singing songs that you both were too young to know or remember from when your parents would play them on the drive home from school. But, for some reason this is the song that stuck with you both the most. Maybe it was the easy lyrics or the amazing beat but from then on it had you hooked to this alternative sound.

Now fast forward to a year ago, your now ex boyfriend Xavier was laying on your bed, finger pads heavy weight on your skin as he drew sloppy hearts on your hip. The wire of the headphones tangled between your shoulder and his wrist as you both listened to his playlist. The familiar intro notes to the song beginning to ring throughout the buds and the tug of your maroon lined lips turn into a smile.

“Already like the song?” He asked, brown eyes rested on top of dark circles scattered with freckles as he smirked down at you.

“I love it.” You sheepishly said.

The wind knocks you back into reality as it pushes through your window again, only making you remember how much you loved October; the weather changing, leaves blooming, smell of the rain just before it hit the concrete, the sound of the leaves dragging along the pavement, and the endless horror movie marathons that would run on AMC.

The orange, brown, and green leaves spin in the breeze and rustle along the branches as the sun stood brightly among the houses along the horizon. From your view on the windowsill you can see houses upon houses before you see the local water tower and old plazas that scream they need new merchant signs and fresh cement.

Your eyes flick to the lonesome string popping out of your black long sleeve before the sound of your phone’s text tone goes off, your eyes darting to the message running across the screen.

Stop watching me

Ashton’s text read, making you roll your eyes before placing them on the dark hair boy who had a goofy grin on his face from your view, his drum sticks were stuffed in one had and the other held his lit up phone.

With a smile on yours, you let the hand that rested in the crook of your neck tear away from the warm flesh and your middle finger stand in the air as a response.

Clothes were thrown in every direction of your room as you let your eyes drag along your frame in the mirror, your loose knitted black sweater hung off one of your shoulders as low waisted charcoal jogging pants rested on your hips. Your hair was in its loose waves as your curtain bangs swept against your temples, your fingers curling into themselves in frustration as you tried to not stress over how you look.

You didn’t want to over enhance your appearance to see Xavier since he wanted to meet up to get “closure” -even though he was the one who called it off despite your many pleas- but you wanted to make him feel bad for even deciding to drop you.

A frustrated sigh left your wine stained lips before turning around and sticking your feet into your ruined Converse. The low muffled sound of Xavier’s Prelude is heard out your window and you feel your heart drop.

You never understood why you always felt this way about him and why you couldn’t just get over this stupid boy who likes to break up with you every other month, a new reason every single time. The constant tears, text threads, and blocking to unblocking seemed to never get exhausting to you because you were always back in the same place, wondering if you overdressed to see your ex for closure.

The chime of Xavier’s specific text tone rings through your room and you already know what it says, so without checking you twisted your foot into your shoe to fit perfectly before you reach over and grasp your phone in your hand and tug your way to the window sill. Fingers pressing the frame up and letting the fall air sweep into your room before crouching down and fitting yourself through the frame and safely scale down the roof, onto the sturdy vine wall filled with dead clematis that prickled on your palms the way down before your feet landed on the short cut grass.

As you turned away from the wall and begin tugging your feet towards the black coupe, your eyes catch on the tall frame standing on their front step as an amber light glows slightly illuminating his face. You already know this is Ashton, so with a slight smile you let your index finger rest against your coated lips, a gesture to him to be quiet.

The only response he gives is his head nodding off to the side with smoke trailing out of his mouth.

The smile quickly falls as your fingers clench the car door handle and tug it open, the smell of him crashing down on you as you sit in the familiar leather, the hum of the engine vibrating under you as the car peels off.

The tinge of tequila burned on your buds as you felt the room spinning, the sound of chatter and shouts are heard from below you as the bass of Destroy Lonely’s song can be heard in the room you barged into when you gave up on waiting for Tabitha; who said she wouldn’t be long with the curly haired new kid in her history class.

Red solo cup was loosely clenched in your right hand as left was lazily running through your hair at random moments as you laid against the cottage floral bed sheets.

Here you were, back in the same spot you always found yourself in: drunk, heartbroken, and thinking about a boy who doesn’t even care about you. The constant routine of wanting him, then wanting to be far away but craving him every other second burned into your heart. The comfort and familiarity of him that you missed always overlooked every excuse he gave you whenever he broke things off.

Last month he said he needed time to himself, this month he told you that he was confused and didn’t know what he wanted; frankly he lost feelings for you, at least that was what he says now. Those words kept on replaying in your mind as if that was your favourite song. The way he sounded emotionless yet unsure that, that was what he really wanted.

And just with those thoughts, tears were flowing down your temples. Eyes blurring as the voice replayed in your head, the memory of him sitting beside you and saying that, to then recollect memories of how sweet and endearing the boy you loved in the beginning grew cold to your touch and looked into your hopeful eyes with detached ones.

The popcorn ceiling was fuzzy in your sight as the tears spill over your waterline and beads down the sides of your face. You already knew your cheeks were heated up, the liner and eyeshadow that was occupying your bottom lashes was smudged and probably slipping away with the liquid as a sniffle wrinkled through your nose.

God you hated this; the empty feeling of missing someone who you know you shouldn’t want but yet crave so badly. Why him? Why you?

As you were deep in thought you hear the rustle of the door knob before it turns and the music that pours from outside reaches into the empty depths of the room, the sound of footsteps halting and a sharp intake of breath being heard, but you don’t dare look away at the ceiling. Frankly, you could care less about who sees you crying your eyes out on this outdated duvet with ruined make up.

“Fuck my bad!… Wait Y/N?” The recognizable voice of your childhood friend is heard before the door is closing shut.

The weight of him sinks next to you on the bed as you let your eyes close and the final stream of tears leave your eyes.

“I look desperate don’t I.” You state, voice raspy from the strain in your throat as the usual feeling of a ball is formed.

“I think you look sad,” He points out, making you snort as the hand that was lazily playing in your hair tears away and feels the sheet below you.

“No shit,” You mumble before letting your eyes peel open.

“You and Xavier broke up again?” Ashton questions, the sound of his zippers clashing from his jacket as he shuffles around.

You only hum in response before you let both of your arms sit you up on the bed, your back standing straight as your hands cradle the solo cup. Your eyes stare down at your ruined pantyhose beneath your mini lace black skirt before they flicker to look at the hazel boy.

Eyes connecting with yours, you hear his breath hitch as he draws in your appearance. Cheeks with a glow of cherry red sweeping the bones under your eyes that are damp with black eyeshadow, your eyes were still puffy and red rimmed as they batted slowly up at him.

“He doesn’t know what he wants,” You let out, your eyes rolling before letting your plum coloured lips take a sip of the warm mixture of Pepsi and tequila.

“Oh?” He says in confusion, bushy eyebrows coming together trying to figure out how that could be since he saw you two together three nights ago.

“I’m so sick of being with these screwed up guys all the time,” You state, hand tearing away from the cup to dig your nails into the rips of your stockings.

“Really?”

“I have such crummy luck or taste? What is it with girls like me? All a guy has to say is, he can’t express his feelings or he listens to Deftones and it’s like my head tips right over and my brain start to slip out of my ear.”

Ashton lets out laugh, the beer bottle he’s holding by the neck resting on his knee as he stares down at you. “So which one is Xavier?”

“Both,” You scoff while sticking out your tongue in disgust.

“You know… if you wanted to, I’m sure you could have a different great guy to go out with every night,” Ashton assures, a smirk tugging on your lips as you decide to ignore the glint of promise in his eyes.

“No way, I’ve always been a mess. Remember Cleo?” Your second boyfriend that seemed to be stuck on your hip but ironically found someway to cheat on you every weekend yet you still dumbly went back to him every. single. time.

The feeling of your sheer button up rubs against your arm as you let your hand fall against your hip and feel your black crop top tight to your skin.

“Maybe you just need to talk to someone who isn’t your usual type,” Ashton points out. Your head nods a few beats as your thick wedged heeled boots run over the wooden flooring.

“Maybe I’ll be luckier if I tried dating someone nice for a change,” Voice hopeful as your eyes dart away from the bubbly dark liquid into Ashton’s brown hues.

“Nice guys,” Ashton says with a smile, both of his hands tearing away from his knees as if to gesture to himself in this equation.

A laugh escapes your lips before your eyes run over Ashton’s frame from head to toe.

“What are you getting at Irwin?” You say with a pointed brow, playing stupid to the implication.

“Oh nothing..” He sings while tearing his eyes from yours, toothy smile still spread on his lips before he takes a swing of his beer.

You shake your head with annoyance before your hazy eyes look down at your lap, your hands resting on the cup and drumming a random tune.

“Honestly Y/N… I think you’re a really great girl and…. I just think maybe…” His words a scrambled mess and trailing off. You smile to yourself before turning to look back at him.

“Mm?” You question, the fifteen percent liquor coursing through your bloodstream and giving you confidence as you lean into this chest, eyes never tearing away from his. Because if Ashton was going to give you hopeful eyes and stuttering speeches you might as well put the ‘nice guy’ to the test and see if he was really about what he said.

That only made his lips break into a smirk, his tongue sneakily gladding along his bottom lip to wet it before looking into you daringly.

That only made you squish your plucked eyebrows together in question. How did the stuttering boy from just a view seconds ago all of a sudden turn cocky and confident? How many drinks did he have? Or was it the weed that clung to his jacket that gave him the boost.

“I think you should give me a chance,” He nips back, and before you can even respond to him, you watch his neck crane down and press his lips against yours.

The crisp taste of his beer stung your lips as they opened and immediately danced along with his tongue. White liquor and brown meeting together to taste each other and leave an acquired flavour in your mouths.

You hummed along to the feeling of his tongue circling against yours before peeling away and molding your lips to sink against each other. Your heart was beating through your chest, nails now digging into your plastic cup and head ducked back as you continue to press your mouth against his.

The feeling of his cold hand pressing against your neck caused you to shudder and tear away from his lips for a second, your eyes peeling open as they look in front of you. Black hair loosely falling on his forehead, the smell of his husky cologne clogging your senses, and the feeling of his fingers now dancing along the back of your neck.

“What are we doing Ash?” You breathe against his lips.

“Something that I’ve always wanted to do,” He says, making your heart launch. You bite down on your bruised lip and tear your eyes away from his, your stomach twist as you try and gain some self control as you almost fling yourself on top of him.

Something that he always wanted to do? You never really found yourself desirable to the point we’re men would see you in that type of light? But maybe what Ash said was just a simple lie, just so he can get what he wants and frankly you don’t even care. You’ve heard lies your whole entire life when it came to boys and this wasn’t any different, maybe you should just let your mind shut off from your stupid ex and just be in the moment for once.

So with that final thought, not having a care in the world, you drop the red cup in your hand and let your lips launch back onto his. Ashton follows your movements and the sound of the nearly empty beer bottle drops onto the hard wood, his right hand now resting along your neck as you both kiss each other.

Warm breaths, beating hearts and the sound of music is the only thing heard in the room as you lick into each others mouths. Soon you feel the weight of Ashton nudging you to lay back on the bed as he lies on top, you feel the cold zippers from his jacket press against your skin and all you can do is moan.

The feeling of his left hand tears away from the hairs on the nape of your neck and dance down your collar bone before letting it cup your breast in his hand, kneading the soft tissue which only makes another moan slip through you.

He pulls away from your lips and begins to suck and press kisses along your pulse, your hands that lie by your side now running up the sleeves of his jacket and into his hair.

A whimper spills out as you feel his hand tug your tank down and free your naked breast, he engulfs it in his cold palm making you let a shaky breath escape before you’re curling your fingers in his hair, the feeling of him twisting your nipple makes you bite down on your bottom lip. The pleasurable pain you feel running up your spine making your shoulders slightly buck off the bed.

“Hmm…” Ashton hums in your neck before tearing away, his eyes once such a light brown and green hue, now a chestnut and forest green colour filled with lust.

Your fingers tug away from his hair as he now descends down your body, his warm lips pressing kisses to your exposed skin as you let your hands tear your blouse and tank off. Your eyes never leaving his as he watches you undress. His lips now press against your pieced belly button as his fingers tear away from your chest and roughly takes your skirt by the band and peels it down your hips, your stockings following soon after.

Not wasting a moment he lets his mouth press against you covered core, lips pressing small kisses against your heat making you quietly moan. You wanted so desperately to tug Ashton into you and make him start devouring you right there but instead you let your hands trail back into his hair and play around with his locks.

Small kisses soon turn into open mouth licks, his wet muscle running up and down your clothed slit that it had your head digging back into the sheets, your legs spreading wider and whimpers endlessly trailing out.

“Ash.. please..” The words slip out so quiet that you assume he didn’t hear from the pulsing music below you, but instead your met with the feeling of his finger pulling your panties to the side and his tongue finally meeting you were you desired.

It circles around your clit gently before you feel his lips suck it into his mouth, a moan drawls from your throat due to the sensation. Soon enough, he’s letting his mouth discover the way you taste which only elects a moan from him. His tongue now dipping in between your two lips and curling around your insides.

“Oh my,” You moan as your fingers dig into his hair, eyes closing shut as you begin to slowly move your hips to the movement of his tongue.

The feeling of his right hand breaks away from your thigh and flows to your hips, his nails leaving small indents as you feel his other hand move away from your panty and rub against your clit.

The feeling of him humming against you sends a vibrating pleasure down your back as he continues to lick you, this only made your toes curl and your hands to fall out of his hair and onto his leather shoulders.

“Fuck,” You moan, your hands tugging him gently away from you as you feel your climax about to overcome your nerves.

And just as you feel it on the tip of your toes, the mouth between your legs pulls away beginning to press wet kisses up your thigh, his hand that once laid against your heat now meeting with the other at your hips.

A groan leaves you as your eyes tear open and look down at him. He mischievously looks up at you, his kisses now run up your stomach once again to lead to your neck.

“Upset?” He teases, only making you shudder at the rasp in his voice.

“I want you Ash,” You say breathlessly, turning your head to knock his out the way and look him in the eyes. “Please,” You utter, fingers now leaving his shoulders and brushing against his rip cage covered by his white tee.

Without any hesitation, Ashton is pulling away from your embrace and leaning back. He shrugs off his jacket, tugs his shirt over his head, his fingers going to the back of his baggy jeans to pull out his wallet to dig through before you see a gold package flash. If your cheeks could burn any brighter they differently would.

The mixture of his clothes and yours are strung through out the room, both of your shoes kicked to the bottom of the bed as he now shuffles his way back up to his original position.

Without question your hand meets the band of his boxers as you begin to inch them down his waist, wanting to return the favour.

“I think that can wait love, I rather be in you right now,” He breathes against your neck, only making your heart stutter. A sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you feel him twist around and lay on his side, his hands laying on your hips, turning you into the same position.

Your head rested on his arm as your back laid against his chest, hips aligned with each other as the feeling of his smell overcomes you. His knees prop up your legs as you hear the tearing of the condom package.

Deciding to distract yourself you let your eyes fall looking at Ashton. His black hair a tossed mess from your fingers, hazel eyes drawn to wear you both meet as he begins to run his member against your heat.

A whimper leaves your lips as you close your eyes when you feel him push inside, his hand now propping up your thigh as he eases into you.

He nudges your head forward and begins sucking kisses down the expanse of your neck, the feeling of his heart beating against your back and the smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne was filling your nose.

“Feels so good,” He mumbles against your skin, his arm that rested under your head turning slightly as he runs his hand against your wrist and takes your fingers into his, lacing them together as you continue to feel him stretch you out.

You never expected Ashton to have a thick piece but you also didn’t expect to be in this exact position right now, literally. Your childhood friend having his way with you while you were both drunk off each other and the alcohol in your systems.

His hips meet your backside before drawing back and pushing back in, your walls expanding with each thrust as you feel him begin a good pace. Moans begin to fall from your mouth, your eyes fluttering open every few seconds as your skin burns from the bruises soon to appear on your pulse from the black haired man beside you, skin still stuck to his lips.

“You’re moans are so pretty,” He breathes against you, his hand that was holding up your thigh runs up your hips to your chest, letting your leg fall as he takes one of your breasts and squeezes it gently.

All you can do is hum at his words because you’re too overstimulated to speak. The feeling of his thickness drawing in and out of you so heavily has you nodding off at the sensation, his fingers intertwined with yours beings to squeeze them together as the hand that was on your breast meets with his head at your neck.

“You like me fucking you,” He says into your ear as his hand squeezes your throat gently.

You nod your head as you feel your eyes slip close, and you were completely wrecked. He was so dirty yet gentle with you, peppering you with kisses yet digging into you so devilishly that it had your mind distraught.

“You like the way I feel inside you,” He continues, his hand growing more tight around your throat.

“Ash…” You say breathlessly, as your hand that rested against the bed sheets rises up and places it against the one making you breathless but encouraging your climax.

“Mm I like the way you feel around me,” He eggs on, and that makes you cry out, your back pushing pack and meeting his hips.

The feeling of your stomach twitching and legs quivering to close makes your head tip back even more against Ashton as you feel your orgasm on the brink.

That has him taking his hand away from your throat and slips it to lift your thigh back up as he continues to thrust into you, his lips press more kisses against your neck.

Your toes curl as the knot in your stomach expands and releases, the satisfying sensation washing over you as you let a deep breath break through your lips with a moan.

“Fuck,” Ashton hisses as he feels you twitch around him, the contractions from your high throwing him into his; his hips stutter before rocking back into you slowly, teeth gently digging into your skin, his breath being blown over the expanse of it.

The thickness of him slips out which causes your eyes to open, his hand dropping your thigh to wrap around your hips as his head buries into your neck.

The room is quiet for a moment as the only thing that can be heard is your hearts calming down and the chatter from down below.

“I would give you more kisses but I’ve made a mess on your neck,” His voice vibrates against you, that only makes you let out a broken laugh.

“I don’t even wanna know what it looks like,” You reply, your hand that rested on the duvet linking with his that rest along your stomach.

This felt nice, the amazing sex and cuddling session after. The room just being quiet and the only thing that can be heard is your breaths and beating hearts. This was so spontaneous that you still can’t even wrap your mind around what happened.

“How would you feel about doing this more often?” Ashton says after a few minutes, his chest moving as he pulls his head away from your neck to lie back against the pillows.

Having casual sex with him? You ponder on the idea. It was definitely one of the best you have ever had, he felt amazing and checked off every box when it came to how to please you. You couldn’t even lie and say that you didn’t find Ash attractive, you are also now officially single, free to due what we you wanted, so fuck it.

“Like… Friends with benefits?” You say, your thumb running against his hand still linked with yours by your head.

“Yeah, friends with benefits,” He confirms.

You let your head swish from side to side as you feel the burning sensation of his love bites strain against your neck as you let out a sarcastic hum to yourself as if you’re thinking it over.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

64 notes · View notes

blues824 · 1 year

Note

This might sound a little too much to ask, but could you do headcanons about Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho and Sebek going to the reader's world (which is real-life Earth), please? I would like to see them explore the countries and cities, taste the unique cuisines (including the ones they had never tried before), buying souvenirs, etc. I would also like to know their favorite singers, songs, movies, food, drinks, countries and cities from the reader's world.

I made myself hungry. Reader is barely mentioned, but kept gender-neutral. They are all aged-up because some characters have alcohol as a favorite beverage (besides Ortho).

Ace Trappola

Favorite country + city he visits: Los Angeles, United States. He loves the big city, and L.A. has a day-life and a night-life. NYC comes in second place for that same reason.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: It’s stated that he likes cherry pie, so he probably likes food from the U.K. (I looked it up and it said that cherry pie originated from there)

Favorite drink: Strawberry green tea with popping strawberry boba. Riddle’s taste for strawberry has rubbed off on him, and since L.A. has a lot of boba shops, he loves it.

Favorite souvenir: A fancier deck of cards, for obvious reasons

Favorite singers/songs: I have a feeling this man knows his Nicki, so his go-to song is Monster by Jay-Z, Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver, and Kanye West

Favorite movie: High School Musical, but when you ask he will say something like Silent Hill to seem all bad and cool

Deuce Spade

Favorite country + city he visits: Probably Tijuana, Mexico. It’s right on the ocean, and therefore it has a beach. He would love to rent a motorcycle and ride with you all over town.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: Mexican food, specifically street tacos. Mexican street food is some of the best I’ve ever had. When you had him try it, he fell in love.

Favorite drink: Horchatas. They’re a popular drink, and he thinks it’s so good (so do I)

Favorite souvenir: A handmade keychain that has ‘T.J.’ engraved on it.

Favorite singers/songs: I feel like he’d be into Bad Bunny, but more specifically the song ‘Te Bote’. Mans doesn’t know what the lyrics translate to, he just thinks it has a good beat. (Btw, I’m aware Bad Bunny is Puerto Rican)

Favorite movie: La Bamba. He loves it, but it always makes him cry. (😢 RIP Ritchie)

Jack Howl

Favorite country + city he visits: Madrid, Spain. Beautiful scenery, wonderful sunset skyline, and rooftop bars: all you need in life.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: Bocadillos, any kind as long as it doesn’t have green peppers.

Favorite drink: Sangria. His canonical favorite food is pear compote, so I feel like he would love a fruit-based drink

Favorite souvenir: A pair of Spanish sandals that he got custom-made. He thinks they are comfortable to walk in.

Favorite singers/songs: He loves the local artists that you can find on the streets, playing for flamenco dancers. His favorite song is Ninguna, by Juanes (I know Juanes is Colombian).

Favorite movie: Call of the Wild. It's a sad story that made him tear up the first time he watched it.

Epel Felmier

Favorite country + city he visits: Marseille, France. He went on a road trip all around France (as much as he could, anyway) and found that this place was at the top of his ‘favorites’ list.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: He does prefer macarons over macaroons, so French cuisine would be his favorite. However, Italian food comes in second.

Favorite drink: He wants to be seen as manly, so he would say his favorite drink is whiskey on the rocks (he does genuinely like it), but his favorite is actually a lighter spirit. He would settle for beer, though.

Favorite souvenir: A very small model of the Eiffel Tower.

Favorite singers/songs: Probably As It Was, by Harry Styles. He is secretly a Harry Styles fan

Favorite movie: Like Ace, he would say his favorite movie is something like The Conjuring, but it’s the Titanic.

Ortho Shroud

Favorite country + city he visits: Thessaloniki, Greece… for obvious reasons.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: He doesn’t eat; he’s a robot

Favorite drink: He doesn’t drink; he’s a robot

Favorite souvenir: A chess set, but instead of normal pieces it’s Greek Soldiers

Favorite singers/songs: I feel like he likes older songs, so I will say Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

Favorite movie: Guardians of the Galaxy

Sebek Zigvolt

Favorite country + city he visits: Stratford-upon-Avon, England. He likes to read, and this is where Shakespeare was born.

Favorite cultural cuisine and specific favorite food: I have reason to believe he likes Italian food. His favorite food remains salmon carpaccio.

Favorite drink: He doesn’t drink a lot, so his favorite drink is Earl-Grey Tea. However, when he needs to relax, he drinks campari (he probably likes the bitter flavor)

Favorite souvenir: A leather-bound copy of Romeo and Juliet

Favorite singers/songs: Until I Found You, by Stephen Sanchez (probably discovered after he read Romeo and Juliet for the first time)

Favorite movie: He loves the Harry Potter movies, and no one is allowed to argue with me.

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

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The Taste of Your Lips - Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You and Matt have feeling for each other but it takes oh so long for you two to give into them

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none I think

Notes: I just really had to write a Matt story; been on my mid for days

Y/N’s POV

I first met Matt in college, he was studying law and I was studying creative writing. Despite our differences we bonded over our mutual love of comics; literature and music. We quickly became friends, spending countless hours talking about everything from our favourite novels to new music that we wanted the other to enjoy. It always amazed me how Matt had an uncanny ability to sense things that most people couldn’t and his reflexes were always lightning fast as if he could actually see. I never though much of it, chalking it up to his intense training as a lawyer and his dedication to his physical fitness.

After we graduated, Matt moved into an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen and offered me a free space in there. I couldn’t take it, finding a cheap and rather shitty apartment that Matt wasn’t too happy about. One day I came home to find a set of keys on my kitchen island and a note from Matt saying I could come over whenever I wanted and it makes my heart jump. It was such a small gesture but it meant so much to me and a small part of me hoped it meant that maybe, just maybe, Matt had feeling for me too.

I began to notice little things about him that I found rather endearing and I started looking forwards to our time together, feeling a flutter in my chest whenever I knew we were going to meet up. I would catch myself staring at him for a few seconds longer than necessary or feeling a sense of disappointment when we had to go our separate ways for that day but it wasn’t until we were spending an evening watching a movie together that I realised I was in love with him. We were sitting on the couch, him happy to listen to the movie with my head on his chest and our feel intertwined, feeling his smile into my hair. As the movie had ended I knew something had shifted between us for me, my heart racing at the realisation that I was head over heels for my best friend.

I didn’t know how to tell him and I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship as I was scared for what his reaction would be so I left it. I pushed my feelings aside and acted like they were just a passing crush but of course they weren’t. The ore time I spend with Matt the stronger my feelings got and I was starting to daydream about what it would be like to be able to kiss him and how his face would feel in my hands until it got too much. I had been wandering through Hell’s Kitchen late at night when something snapped and I was bursting into Matt’s apartment before I knew it, ready to tell him I was in love with him when I found him standing there. The Daredevil suit on and mask in his hands.

All I could do was stare at him as I try and process what was in front of me as Matt was the last person I expected to be Hell Kitchen’s vigilante. He’s blind for one but two the Matt I thought I knew was just too soft to be Daredevil. My shock quickly dissipated into anger as Matt had been keeping this from me, from Foggy. How could he? How could he put himself in such danger every single night? It hurt me, the thought of him getting so hurt he can’t get home and no one can help him.

“What the actual fuck?” I’m hissing out, voice shaking with anger and fear as he looks in my direction, a guilty look on his face.

He forced me to sit down, calmly explaining to me about his ability to ‘see’ the world around him using his other senses, how it helped him navigate the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. How he uses a form of echolocation, listening for sounds bouncing off of objects around him which he can form into mental images of his surrounding based on the way the sounds interact. He explains how it’s not perfect and has a lot of limitations and how it takes a lot of practice and concentration to ‘see’ effectively. He told me that he had gotten his hearing so precise he could hear my heart currently racing in my chest.

As Matt told me that a rush of emotions and realisation floods my mind and I flushed. Surprised at first, almost taken aback by thee sheer power of his senses and it’s almost hard to comprehend that he can hear physical manifestations of my emotions so clearly. Then the shock wears off and embarrassment takes its place as that means Matt could hear every time my heart races when I thought about kissing him, he could smell my arousal every time my mind wandered further than it should and he could feel when my cheeks flushes every time he would touch me. He would have been able to see through all the times I stared at him with heart eyes and all the times I tried to hide my feelings for him.

I couldn’t help feel vulnerable and exposed as I processed it all. It was like all of my secrets and desires were laid bare before him but at the same time there was something strangely comforting about it. Matt could hear everything I was feeling meaning he had the ability to understand me in a way nobody else could, a strangely intimate connection that we share. In that moment, I realised that my feelings for Matt went far beyond mere friendship. It wasn’t just that I find him attractive or that we have a good rapport. It’ was something deeper, something that I couldn’t quite put into words. And as I looked into his eyes, shades of deep and rich chocolate, I wondered if he could hear my heart racing then and there too.

It’s been a few months since I found out Matt was Daredevil and I’ve been staying at him more often than mine that at this point I should just move in but I don’t want to deal with his smug ‘I told you so’.

It was awkward at first as I couldn’t help the feelings of betrayal that he had kept this huge secret from me, telling Foggy and Karen before me. Matt gave me time to adjust, letting me find my own way back to him which took a week or two as I took the time to realise why he did what he did and honestly? It’s made me feel somehow closer to him than before as we’ve fallen into a routine now. He lets me clean him up when he gets hurt, it took a few days of arguing for that to happen, but he gave in knowing just how stubborn I can be. I clean up his injuries, make sure he’s fed and hydrated and make sure he gets enough sleep to work the next day. It’s not always easy but it’s become somewhat of a bonding experience for us and it puts my anxieties at easy.

Despite all this I still haven’t given in to moving in with him. Part of me wants to but I’m not giving him that satisfaction and I know that the longer I spend at his the less I’ll be able to control my feelings for him as they grow stronger. I can’t help but wonder if there is something unspoken between us, something deeper than just friends when I’m sat practically in his lap and cleaning the cuts on his cheek or icing the bruises on his ribs.

Today was no different, I slipped into his apartment in the dead of night to find him half laying, half sitting on the sofa, back against the arm and one leg spread down the couch and the other handing off, foot on the floor as his eyes are pointed to the ceiling. My heart drops at the sight of him and I’m letting the door slam shut, whispering out a quiet ‘Sorry!’ when he winces.

Without a second thought I’m rushing over to him, sliding to sit between his spread legs and pulling him into a tight embrace. He responds by his arms wrapping around me, strong and comforting, like a shield protecting me from the rest of the world. The muscles in his chest flex as he embraces me, the warms of his body enveloping me and his bare chest smooth and firm against me. I can’t help myself but bury my face in his chest, the scent of his skin mixed with a hint of sweat and his cedarwood cologne. My heart is racing and I know he can feel it too, the way his grip tightens ever so slightly and the warmth of his breath on my neck as he moves closer. I can’t help myself when I begin to wonder if he can feel the heat rising to my cheeks and the way I can’t help feeling a little turned on by him being this close.

He’s breaking the hug, eyes moving around my face as if he can really see me and it sends a shiver down my spine. My eyes follow his fingers as the lightly ghost down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake and a small smile on his lips leaving me feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. He’s leaning closer again, breath on my face and hands cupping my face gently in his hands, thumbs brushing my cheeks softly. He speaks, voice low and rough, “I can hear how much you want this, can smell it and fuck,” he chokes on his words a little, letting out a sound that could be a whimper, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I have wanted to do this.”

Then his lips are on mine, a soft and sweet kiss that sends my heart racing even more. His hands are moving to my waist as he pulls me closer to him while his tongue traces over my bottom lip asking silent permission to deepen the kiss. His hands on my hips feels so strong and firm, yet gentle at the same time. It's like he's holding onto me with purpose, but not with force. The warmth from his palms seeps through the fabric of my shirt, making me feel safe and protected. I can feel his fingers slightly digging into my sides as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down my spine and I feel like I could stay in his embrace forever.

Matt’s breaking the kiss too soon for my liking, a soft rumble in his chest of amusement as his strong hands manoeuvre me so I’m straddling his lap, thumbs moving in soothing circles where they’ve slipped under my teeshirt. He sighs softly before speaking, voice low and a tinge of pain in it, “I’ve been so scared to make a move,” His grip tightens a little more, “I don’t want to put a target on your back darling.”

As soon as the endearment leaves his kiss swollen lips I feel my heart flutter and from the small smirk on his lips he hears it too but I can’t help it as him calling me ‘darling’ adds to the warmth spreading through me. Without any hesitation, I’m placing a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his face to mine, “I know the risks, Matt,” I speak softly, as if I’ll break the moment if I speak any louder, “I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I’m not with you now that I have a taste.”

That draws a genuine smile from him, a soft and tender expression making me let out a soft sound. I can’t stop myself from leaning forwards and capturing his lips in another gentle and loving kiss as his hands move to my back and pull me flush against him as if I’ll disappear. The kiss deepens, passion stoking the fire in my chest. His hands moving up and down my back under my loose shirt, fingers tracing over my skin and causing shivers to run down my spine. I press myself even closer to him, feeling the hard muscles of his bare chest and the warm of his body against mine. His tongue flicks against my lower lip and I part them eagerly for him to deepen the kiss even further.

It’s like the ward fades away and it’s just us, lost in the kiss and the feel of each other. Matt’s lips are soft and gentle yet full of so much pent up desire it’s almost overwhelming. I can feel my own desire building with every passing second and I have to pull away too soon, panting for air and my breath hitching when his lips don’t hesitate to move to my neck.

“I’m right here,” I gasp out, hands finding his hair and a small part of me revels in how soft it is. It’s like running my fingers through fine silk, falling around his face and making it addictive to touch, my fingers curling and pulling lightly as I add, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A low sound escapes his throat as his lips trail soft and gentle kisses down my neck, leaning a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. His lips feel soft yet firm, breath warm against my skin and his fingers are tracing any part of me he can get his hands on as he tries to memorise every dip and curve for future times. It feels like electricity, the contract of his soft and gentle fingers compared to his lips that are sucking and biting hickeys into any skin of his neck he can get them on.

He’s kissing me once more, soft and quick before he’s manhandling me off his lap as he shifts. His strong and firm hands lift me off his lap and back to my feet, pulling himself up and then making me lay the length of the sofa. I frown at him as he walks to his room until he’s returning with two pillows which he props against the arm of the sofa before he lays down next to me. He shifts us around until we’re comfortable with his head leaning on the pillows and my head on his chest, nestled into his side with his arm around my shoulders and squeezing lightly, his moves all smooth and fluid. Settling into his side, my ear pressed against his chest, I hum softly the his fingers move to card and lightly scratch throughly scalp soothingly. He turns the TV on, the soft glow of the screen casting a warm light over us as we snuggle together, the blanket at the bottom of the sofa being wriggled up by his feet until he can reach it with his hands. The blanket is fuzzy and warm, the mixture of it, Matt’s safe and solid form surrounding me and the quiet murmurs of the TV has me drifting to sleep. The steady rhythm of Matt’s heartbeat serving as my own personal lullaby as I sleep for the first time in months, knowing Matt is here and okay. I feel safe in his arms, knowing that he'll always protect me.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fanfic #Charlie cox #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #daredevil fluff #daredevil smut #daredevil angst #daredevil x female reader #daredevil fanfiction

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ciaossu-imagines · 1 year

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Okay, but as any long-time reader of this blog knows, I’m a huge fan of polyships! I chose my favourite polyship for Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun, which is Balam/Reader/Kalego, and hope you all enjoy the headcanons, based off this prompt!

Who’s the cuddler?

Okay, but it’s obviously Balam. Kalego is not a physically demonstrative man, not even in private. That’s not to say he’ll never show you any physical affection, just that it’s not a common thing for him. Balam, on the other hand, is very physically affectionate and craves physical closeness with people. In any relationship, he’s going to up that ante even more and physical affection, both in public and in private, will be a huge thing for him.

Who makes the bed?

I feel like Kalego does. He likes it if either you or Balam offer to help it, because it goes quicker but he’s definitely the one whose first thought after getting up is to make the bed. He not only appreciates but almost needs a clean, neat space to live in.

Who wakes up first?

Both Kalego and Balam are early risers. It will switch every now and then as to which one of them wakes up first but it’s almost guaranteed that unless you’re an extremely early riser, both men are typically awake before you.

Who has the weird taste in music?

It’s gotta be you. Balam does appreciate music but honestly doesn’t listen to a lot of it. Kalego’s tastes in music are very limited, and he prefers classical or instrumental pieces.

Who is more protective?

While both of them will be protective of their loved ones, Shichirou tends to be more aggressive and open in his protectiveness, with lectures if you put yourself in danger and downright bloodlust towards anyone aiming to hurt you. Kalego is more low-key in his protectiveness and does his best to trust that you can handle yourself, almost letting you test how much you can handle in terms of danger, but he’s actually probably the more protective of the two of them. It’s just that he’s quieter about it.

Who sings in the shower?

It’s Balam and boy, is he horrible at it. Does he love doing it? Yep. Does he kind of sound like a strangled duck while doing it? Also yep.

Who cries during movies?

It depends on what happened in the movie. While he rarely outright cries, Balam’s eyes will definitely mist up if an animal dies or is abused on screen. It makes him sad and just a little angry. For anything else or for outright crying, it would have to be you, if you do. Kalego rarely watches any movies and even during the most heart wrenching of moments in the ones he will watch, he can remain stoic and stone-faced.

Who spends the most while out shopping?

It depends on if Kalego is with them. He’s not miserly but he is very good at budgeting and setting limits on what’s spent while out on a shopping trip and he’ll keep both you and Balam to those limits as well. This especially applies if all three of you are living together because Kalego will kind of naturally become the one in charge of keeping track of all the financials for the household and will know exactly what can be spent without hurting the household financially.

Who kisses more roughly?

It’s Balam, but he genuinely doesn’t mean to. He wants to be soft and gentle, and he tries really hard to be. It’s just that kissing is a bit rough with his facial deformity to begin with and, even when he is careful about his extreme strength, he can tend to forget himself in the happiness of that physical affection.

Who is more dominant?

It’s Kalego, bar none. While Balam can be dominant at times, especially if he knows his partner is into that, he does hold back a lot because of his strength and is just as happy to let you take the reins. Kalego, however, is a bit of a control freak in his daily life and that tends to extend to his relationships a bit too, sometimes to the detriment of the relationship.

My rating of the ship from 1-10?

10 out of 10, would recommend. I love both of these men so much and would happily become a bigamist to have a happy, odd little marriage with these two!

#welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #headcanons #polyship #kalego naberius #shichirou balam

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rickie-the-storyteller · 1 year

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Introducing Me.

Hi! I'm Rickie the Storyteller! I like making up stories for fun.

I figured that it was probably time to have a proper intro post on here.

Here are a few facts about me:

My real name is Erica. "Rickie" is a nickname. (And I'm a girl.)

My MBTI is INFJ.

My birthday is 15/09 (so I'm a Virgo).

I'm British. And black. And kind of a nerd.

I love to read (I can't choose one favourite book lol. My favourite childhood books were the How to Train Your Dragon series, and I also loved everything by Roald Dahl).

I love movies (particularly Pixar movies. I think my favourite Pixar film is The Incredibles).

Right now, my two favourite shows are Gilmore Girls and BoJack Horseman. And The Boondocks… and I also love Phineas and Ferb (I always have. It’s my comfort show <3 )

I'm a STEM student (mainly computer science, physics and maths). I particularly like science a lot. When I was young, all I wanted was to be a doctor. I got over that once I found out how long you need to stay in school lol.

I hate swearing in real life, but I sometimes include swear words in my stories (only when I feel like the character would lol. It's about getting their personalities right, that's all).

I am a major perfectionist. And a tryhard. Because of that, I get burnt out a lot lol.

I have the most random music taste lol. I like just about everything so long as it sounds nice (my playlists range from old-school hip hop to gospel/rnb to jazz to classical to indie... right now as I'm typing this out, I'm listening to Lizzy McAlpine lol)

I've always loved writing and storytelling since I was a kid. I used to write in my notebooks whenever I could, and make up bedtime stories to entertain my younger sister when we were little kids. I enjoyed creating different worlds, scenarios, characters and personalities with my imagination. Making up stories is my passion and my escape.

I got the idea to start this blog because I type up a lot of stories and store them on my computer. Some of them are long, some of them are short. Most of them aren't finished… But I wanted to give them a space of their own. I wanted to have a platform where I can share my stories with other people who love writing and reading as much as I do. I wanted to connect with other writers and readers who can give me feedback, advice, and support. And I wanted to challenge myself to improve my writing skills and grow as a writer and storyteller.

On here, you'll find various types of stories (and poems, I guess) that I write for fun or for practice. Some of them are short stories that can be read in one sitting. Some of them are longer stories that are divided into chapters or parts. Some of them are based on prompts or requests that I get from you guys. And some of them are just random ideas that pop into my head. I'm here to share with you some of my original stories, characters, and ideas that I hope will inspire you, entertain you, and make you think.

I'm happy to be here, but it was a tough choice to start this blog for a few reasons - the main one being that it takes a lot of courage to share your stories/creations with others. You never know how they will react or what they will think of your work. And like I said before, I'm a perfectionist. I want the things I post to be good. I really hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

I want to push myself and step out of my comfort zone. I want to experiment with different writing styles and genres: YA, fantasy, sci-fi, romance, comedy, mystery, drama, etc. Something for everyone. And if there isn't yet something that suits your taste or mood, eventually I'll try and get it there (I haven't been on here very long lol). I've never written fanfictions before, but I wouldn't mind writing for any specific tv shows/movies/video games in future. I'm open to anything! As long as we aren't talking about anything inappropriate…

I'd also love to interact with you guys more: answer your questions about writing or storytelling or anything else; give feedback on your own stories if you want; share tips and tricks on how to improve your writing skills; or just chat about anything that interests us. I don't just want to write stories that come from my own imagination (although I definitely will do that too). I also want to take your suggestions and prompts. So, if you have an idea for a story that you want to read or hear me tell, just let me know and I'll try to make it happen.

If you like what you read, feel free to follow and share with your friends. You can also send me requests for stories or prompts/topics you want me to write about. I'm always open to new ideas and challenges.

Thank you for visiting my blog and supporting my passion. Also, thanks for reading this (if you actually read the whole thing, then you're awesome)!

Stay tuned for more stories coming soon!

___

EDIT #1:

My main WIP is a three-part series titled, "Steph's Crew." I have finished this dialogue series for the first book/instalment (which is called, "The Misfit Manifesto").

Here's a link to the contents page -

Here's some more info on that:

I'm working on a ton of stuff lol. Here are a few... — The Internet's Resident Storyteller (tumblr.com)

___

EDIT #2:

Here's a link to my Spotify, where you can find all of the OC/ship playlists that I make for my stories -

Feel free to make suggestions on songs to include in these playlists, since I'm always thinking of new songs to add and ways to change them.

___

EDIT #3:

My Wattpad! I'm planning on posting more on there, so stay tuned for that.

___

EDIT 4:

Check out my Instagram!

___

EDIT 5:

Get to know me! Here's a link to my "Meet the Writer Tag" post:

#:) hi #rickie-the-storyteller #introductory post #intro post #welcome to my tumblr #happy to be here #about me post

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duckprintspress · 5 months

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Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Scarlett Gale

We are sloooowly creeping up on being 2/3rds funded on the crowdfunding campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary, an anthology of 17 stories by queer authors starring non-binary main characters in aetherpunk settings! It’ll definitely be a relief when we hit that wonderful 100%. Don’t forget to share Aether Beyond the Binary with friends who you think might be interested in the project!

Head on over to our Kickstarter Campaign page NOW to learn waaaay more about this project, and read on to get to know Scarlett Gale, read an interview with her, and check out an excerpt from her contribution!

About Scarlett Gale: Scarlett Gale is the author of His Secret Illuminations and His Sacred Incantations. Long ago, under another name, she was the co-author of Needles and Artifice (Cooperative Press; 2012), featuring a rollicking romantic steampunk adventure novella and associated knitting patterns, of which she also designed several. She writes and produces fringe theatre plays based on B-movies, such as Bodacious Barbarian Babes vs. The Indigo Empress and Showgirls of Beast Island. She is a co-producer of the Alison-Bechdel-approved Bechdel Test Burlesque, which in 2017 was included in the Women and Gender Studies curriculum at the University of Oregon. She lives in Seattle with her wife where she gardens, knits, reads, and drinks warm beverages. Unsurprisingly, she also has cats.

Links: Personal Website | Tumblr | Bluesky

This is Scarlett’s second time contributing to a Duck Prints Press anthology. A short story by her was also included in our debut anthology Add Magic to Taste. Learn more about Scarlett’s other published works.

An Interview with Scarlett Gale

What motivates you to create?

Spite and love in equal measure.

What are your goals as a creator?

To make the world a kinder, hornier place one story at a time.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I suppose Planster is the best description, though I think that makes me sound more like someone who has a lot of plants (she says, sitting next to a glass cabinet full of houseplants). For my longer works I usually start with a vibe and a general idea of the arc and write with no real outline until I’m about two-thirds through the story, at which point I will sit down and roughly bullet point the scenes I still want to write, arrange them into story order, and use that as a reference to finish the piece. Why when I’m two-thirds through? Because at that point I’ve had enough Shower Ideas that if I don’t document them somewhere, I risk forgetting to put them in, and my Shower Ideas are the most inspired parts of my writing!

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

Wordcount. Good god, wordcount. I am the rare writer who can just sit down at a computer and bang out several hundred words in twenty minutes without second-guessing myself or worrying if the words are good enough. This makes me simultaneously the best and worst person to have in your writering group.

What do you consider to be your weaknesses as a creator?

Also wordcount. I think every story I’ve submitted to the Press has started out two thousand words above the limit, which means we have to do sooooo much editing. Goodbye, my beautiful words!

Do you like having background noise when you create? What do you listen to? Does it vary depending on the project, and if so, how?

Yes! It makes writing feel less lonely, since I do a lot of it only accompanied by my cats. I listen to music at a medium to low volume that either has no lyrics, or lyrics in a language I don’t speak so I don’t get distracted by the words. I actually bought the cheapest Pandora subscription specifically for writing music. My favorite stations are:

Lofi Chill

Bonobo*

Mikel & Gamechops

Radio Asian Kung-Fu Generation (a recent addition)

*Fun story about the group Bonobo: The morning after our wedding, my whole family crowded into our tiny house to watch us open our wedding gifts. I had given my siblings control over distributing the drink tickets, which meant that after they handed them out to the guests, they used the remaining tickets to get SPECTACULARLY plastered, and were thus deeply hungover. My wife made loads of coffee while everyone grazed on the catering leftovers, and in the interest of creating a calming atmosphere, we put on a Bonobo album. Everyone liked the music, to the point that they repeatedly asked the name of the group, which meant my wife and I kept repeating, with increasing exasperation, “BONOBO!! LIKE THE MONKEY!!!!” It is my primary memory of that morning.

What are your favorite snacks and/or drinks to consume while creating?

Remember to eat? While I’m writing?? You think I’m sensible or something?! (I enjoy a cup of tea, either green, decaf black, or herbal, depending on the time of day.)

Tell us about your pet(s).

We currently have three cats: CeeCee, Matcha, and Gyoza. CeeCee (the Lady Catherine the Purr) is our most recent addition from March of 2023. She’s a fifteen year old scrungly tiny black goblin who knows exactly what she wants out of life: Food, sippies from the bathroom sink, belly rubs, and shoulder rides. If we are not providing any of these at the speed she would prefer, she screams at us. She’s PERFECT.

Matcha is an eight-pound calico brat with the sass of at least four cats crammed into her tiny body. Her favorite things in life are causing trouble and rubbing her face on my hands when I’m trying to write.

Gyoza is a sixteen pound gray tabby with the physical properties of a water balloon full of pudding. He loves to try to “play” with Matcha, which results in her screaming like she’s being murdered. His other favorite thing to do is play in the toilet and then come step on us with his wet toilet feet, because he’s the worst.

Please enjoy this festive photo of the three of them that I had to photoshop from three individual photos, since all of them hate each other.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Always take the opportunity to use the restroom when it’s available to you. Solid life advice applicable to any situation, really!

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever received?

I had a Jimmy John’s delivery guy tell me I should lie to people and say my fire-engine-red hair was natural, does that count? (I stared him down blankly long enough that he spontaneously apologized.)

If you could give one piece of advice to a new creator who came to you for help, what would that advice be?

Just write it. You can fix the words once they’re on the page, but excessive planning and worrying and worldbuilding won’t help you if you don’t write the words. Just write it! Let it be bad! Fix it in post! Write the damn thing!!!

What’s one thing (style, genre, etc.) that you think you’ll never do, and why not?

Write the type of fantasy book that has a map in the front and a glossary of terms, only because I personally am not motivated to do that level of worldbuilding. I appreciate the people who want to do that, but I guarantee that as a reader I will skip the map and then probably the glossary in order to get to the STORY, which tells you where my priorities lie.

Scarlett’s Contribution to Aether Beyond The Binary

Title: N(ae)ghbours

Tags: attraction at first sight, bisexual, city mouse and country mouse, competence kink, didn’t know they were dating, f/nb, farmer, first kiss, genderfluid, getting together, humor, idiots to lovers, meet cute, misgendering (unintentional), omg they were neighbors, panic attacks (mentions of), present tense, self-esteem issues, third person limited pov

Excerpt:

“But you were going to tell me what you’re researching?”

Ah. Well. “This might be boring and hard to explain.”

Rin waves a fork at the breakfast spread between them. “You have at least five pancakes’ worth of time. Hit me.”

Dahlia takes a steadying sip of tea. She explains about greenhouses and other protected growing areas for delicate crops, and the advantages and disadvantages of using them on a large scale. She explains that her family has a small greenhouse for starts, but most of their land is open-air, which means they get the advantages that come with that, but also the issues—they’re at the mercy of the weather, insects, birds…

Or they would be if not for the aether tunnel.

“It’s like a hoop house,” Dahlia explains, pulling up a photo of a hoop house on her phone to show Rin. “Normally, you cover the frame with mesh, or clear bio-plastic if you’re trying to trap the heat and control the amount of water it gets, but…”

“That’d rip right off in a big storm, right? And how do you get in there when you need to do plant stuff?”

(don't forget to check out the campaign, now that you've read to the end!)

#duck prints press #aether beyond the binary #scarlett gale #aetherpunk #crowdfunding #queer crowdfunding #anthology #book crowdfunding #queer book

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hopeymchope · 6 months

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Naegiri One-Shot: Lyrical - "What Can You Lose?"

Lyrical - What Can You Lose? on AO3

Lyrical - What Can You Lose? on Fanfiction.Net

Summary: Late one night, Makoto Naegi is pacing the halls of Hope's Peak when he hears someone playing the piano in the Music Room. Upon investigating, he eventually learns that he and Kaede Akamatsu are being kept awake by similar struggles.

Intro Note: Happy Naegiri Week 2023, everybody. The story below (under the cut) takes place in the "Ultimate Talent Development Plan" timeline where the cast of V3 is the 79th Class of Hope's Peak.

I hope you don't mind taking your Naegiri with a side dose of Saimatsu...

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

In the Music Room at Hope's Peak Academy, Kaede Akamatsu was seated at the piano with her eyes closed. She was playing a slow, somber-sounding piece of music without looking at the sheet propped up in front of her. And she was so focused on what she was playing that she didn't notice when the door to the room opened.

Makoto Naegi cleared his throat loudly, which got the desired reaction from Kaede. She stopped playing immediately and spun around to see him standing by the door, gently shutting it behind him.

Kaede blushed, thrown off by the visitor. "Oh!"she said. "Uh, h-hi, Naegi-senpai! I-I was-"

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," Makoto said, smiling politely. "I just heard the music, and I-"

"-Wondered who was playing the piano at this hour?" Kaede finished, smiling back as she attempted to regain her composure.

"Of course I suspected it'd be you, Akamatsu-san," Makoto told her. "You're the first person that comes to mind when I hear the piano playing in here. But also because that music didn't sound something Maizono-san or Mioda-senpai would play. Compared to their tastes, this sounded far softer and a lot... well, sadder."

Kaede beamed when she responded. "You're right about that. It's a piece by Stephen Sondheim - he was a famous American lyricist and composer. He wrote the music for a lot of famous Broadway shows like Into the Woods and Sweeney Todd. Plus he did the lyrics for West Side Story and Gypsy." She began to speak faster, her eyes lighting up. "He has so many awards and so much respect that theater musicians call him a god of the industry, and he was an incredible jazz-style pianist, too! Oscar Hammerstein was a surrogate father to him and mentored him, so he was brought up by one of the all-time greats in musical theater, surrounded by the most extraordin-... uh, extraordinary... "

She cut herself off and closed her eyes. After a deep breath, she said "Sorry" in a soft voice. "I can get carried away when it comes to music."

"Don't be sorry," Makoto told her. "I love your passion. It's awesome — admirable, even! Besides, trust me: I know how easy it is to get worked up when you really feel gung-ho about something."

Kaede regarded him skeptically. "I realize I don't know you that well, senpai, but... I somehow have a hard time picturing you getting 'worked up' or 'gung-ho.' What brings that out in you?"

He glanced sideways and laughed a little. "I suppose what mostly gets me going is unfairness? As in, things that feel... unjust."

"Well, the song I was just playing is from a movie that might be up your alley, then," Kaede said with a grin. "It's an American film based on a 1930s comic strip from their newspapers - Dick Tracy."

Makoto shrugged. "Can't say I'm familiar."

"It's about this old-fashioned, good-hearted detective who always follows the rules even as he goes up against all these weird, grotesque gangsters who break every law in the city," Kaede told him. "Sondheim didn't work on many movies, but he won an Oscar for his work on Dick Tracy."

"It's about a detective, huh?" Makoto said, looking up at the ceiling. He blinked a couple of times, thinking to himself before he returned his attention to Kaede. "So why does the song sound so sad?"

"Oh, right" Kaede said, sounding as if she only now remembered him observing that earlier. "Well, it's called What Can You Lose, and it's about this character whose been carrying feelings for someone else for a while, but he doesn't know if they've noticed or cared. He's trying to figure out whether he should just tell her."

Makoto face momentarily appeared shocked. But after the shock passed, his expression became determined. "I see," he said. "Would you play it for me?"

Kaede smiled gratefully. "Of course! Although I have to admit it loses something without the accompanying lyrics."

Rubbing his chin with one hand, Makoto pushed to add, "Then could you sing it, too?"

"Wha-what?!" Kaede blurted through sudden laughter. "I'm... I'm not much of a singer! Besides, it's designed as a duet."

"You're being modest," Makoto suggested sympathetically.

"I'm not!" Kaede responded emphatically.

Makoto chuckled to himself again "This duet - do you mean it has parts for both a guy and a girl?"

"Yes... "

"Then I'll do the male vocals," Makoto suggested, smiling warmly. "I'm not any good either, so you should feel more comfortable that way."

As he moved to stand behind and to the side of her spot on the piano bench, Kaede looked befuddled. "I mean, I guess I do sing along with the piano sometimes... in private, that is. And I can carry a tune decently, sure. But this? This is just-"

Makoto interrupted by saying, "Look: I really want to hear it. Okay?"

Kaede stared, shaking her head slowly as she paradoxically said "Okay... "

She turned, cleared her throat, and tried to focus on the sheet music in front of her. "Can you read music, though?" she ventured.

"I can read enough, I think," Makoto said uncertainly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay... " Kaede repeated, quieter this time.

She did her best to ignore the boy standing there as she began to run her fingers over the keys.

When the time came, Makoto's voice came out as a firm but unpolished tenor:

What Can You Lose? Only The Blues... Why Keep Concealing, Everything You're Feeling? Say It To Her... What Can You Lose? Maybe It Shows, She's Had Clues — Which She Chose To Ignore Maybe Though She Knows, And Just Wants To Go On As Before... As A Friend, Nothing More. So She Closes The Door.

Then Kaede's voice came in with its sweet, high pitch.

Well If She Does, Those Are The Dues...

And together, they began to share the lyrics.

Once The Words Are Spoken, Something May Be Broken Still You Love Her; What Can You Lose?

But What If She Goes? At Least Then You Had Part Of Her... What If She Had To Choose?

Leave It Alone... Hold It All In... Better or Boned Don't Even Begin With So Much To Win... There's Too Much To Lose.

Shortly after she finished playing the last few notes, Kaede smiled and sat back, taking a deep breath before she spoke. "Um, sorry for my voice cracking," she said. "I did warn you that I'm not much of a singer." She turned back to look at him.

Makoto was looking away from her now, his back to her. "Uh, yeah, same here?" he said awkwardly. His voice wavered as he continued, "I kinda choked on those lyrics a couple times... "

"I thought you sounded very sweet," Kaede assured him. However, the look on her face had shifted to one of her concern as a result of both the tone in Makoto's voice and the fact that he was still facing away from her. "I don't want to pry or anything," she ventured, "But... are you okay?"

"Damn it," he muttered emphatically, speaking mostly to himself. He turned back towards her and rolled his eyes — making it evident that they were welling with tears. "Guess I lost it somewhere along the way."

Kaede's hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock. "Oh god, you don't have anxiety about performing, do you? You really didn't need to do that! I tried to-"

Makoto waved away her concerns, laughing nervously. "No, it's not that. The song just... really struck a nerve." He wiped the tears from his eyes using the sleeve of his hoodie.

Hearing that, Kaede lowered the hand from her face and brought her hands together in front of her. "Isn't that beautiful, though?" she asked, enthused all over again. "The way that music can make people feel so strongly... " She closed her eyes and sighed. "It can be challenging, cathartic, or even make us confront emotions we've been avoiding within ourselves."

Makoto was slightly confused by her sudden enthusiasm in this face of his tears, but he just scratched his cheek lightly and nodded a bit. "I guess that's true, yeah," he muttered.

Seeing his reaction, Kaede's smile turned sheepish. "Sorry if that came out kind of weird," she offered. "Guess I got carried away again. People don't call me the 'Piano Freak' for nothing."

Makoto sniffed, still fighting back his emotions. Nevertheless, he managed to smile back at her. "Like I said before, your passion is a great thing," he told her. "There's nothing 'freak'-ish about it. That's just rude and uncalled for."

"Thank you, senpai," Kaede said genuinely. "And, truth be told, you caught me playing this song because... I can relate to it, too."

His smile tightened. "Then I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Is that what's keeping you up so late?"

She avoided his gaze. "Something like that," she admitted. "The same questions keep running through my head."

"Then we're in the same boat," he expressed with a sympathetic smile.

Keade looked back at him, regarding him silently for a moment before speaking again. "Frustrating, isn't it?"

"Yeah... " Makoto said softly. He seemed to be looking through her, his mind wandering for a few seconds. However, his expression soon brightened. "But hey," he suddenly added, speaking more clearly. "Maybe your person is just clueless."

Kaede turned to look back at the piano and fingered a couple of keys idly. "I sort of doubt it," she said over the tink-tink sounds. "Picking up on clues is kind of his whole thing."

"Well that sounds painfully familiar," Makoto said, deadpan.

"Yours too?" Kaede asked, looking back at him with genuine surprise. Suddenly, she spun around in her seat. "Wait, don't tell me!" She held both hands in front of her as if she could psychically freeze him in place before she went on: "You're trying to let them know how you feel without explicitly saying it, and they're someone who's usually great at reading people. But even so, they haven't reacted to what you're doing. So now you can't tell if they're really uninterested or just totally oblivious in this one way." Her hands dropped into her lap. "Is that it?"

At that, Makoto had to laugh. "Aside from the fact that I'm trying my hardest not to send any signals, that's exactly what it's like with her. Besides, I'm a pretty open book. I'm probably sending her signals whether I want to or not. And if that's true, what would it mean?" His face fell once more. "Has she avoided confronting my feelings because she wishes they didn't exist and would prefer not to deal with them?" He paused only a second before answering his own question: "I think that's a solid probably." His smile returned, though now it was a smaller and sadder one.

Kaede mirrored his expression. "You can't be sure of what she's thinking. You shouldn't give up hope."

"I know," Makoto said, giving her a nod. "And I won't. Despite my best efforts, I just... I can't seem to shake that hope. I can't stop wanting more between us."

Kaede stood up from the piano bench. "Why do you want to shake it?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder at him.

Makoto shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. "To protect myself, I guess. Like the song said: 'There's too much to lose.'"

After turning around to face him, Kaede gave a solemn nod. "I get that."

He looked back at her. "You can't bring yourself to tell him either, huh?"

Kaede's eyes drifted upward as she drew in a long breath. "I... " she began. "I... I've stepped right up to that line, if you know what I mean. I've been at the door, and I gave it a good, long look," she said, barely suppressing an embarrassed giggle over her own metaphor. Then she paused, lost in thought for a few moments. Quietly, she concluded "It feels like I've done everything but tell him."

"Sometimes it's hard to notice what's going on right in front of us," Makoto suggested.

Kaede threw him a lopsided smile. "Speaking from experience?"

"Not romantic experience — but yeah," Makoto admitted, chuckling ruefully.

"Can't that apply to your person, too?" Kaede asked. She clasped her hands behind her back. "Isn't there a chance she can't see the forest for the trees?"

He immediately shook his head. "No. At least... I don't think so."

"You can't be certain, though."

"Of course not," Makoto said.

She shifted her stance, moving to fold her arms in front of her. "How long have you known this girl?"

"About a year and a half now," he responded.

Kaede leveled a concentrated gaze at him. "Do you mind if I ask you something kind of personal?"

Makoto blinked rapidly, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. "I mean, uh — maybe?" he said, feeling nervous. "It depends."

"On what?" Kaede pressed, her face relaxing.

He raised one hand up to his chin. "Just... ask yourself whether you'd be comfortable with me asking you the same thing. And if so? Fire away."

She froze, letting her eyes drift around the room as she considered that. "Okay," she murmured to herself once before repeating it louder: "Okay. Fine."

Makoto's brow furrowed as he unconsciously tensed his body in anticipation.

Kaede's face returned to the concentrated look she'd had a moment before. "We've been talking vaguely about what we feel or whatever, but level with me here: Are you in love with this person?"

In response, Makoto closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. "I try not to think about that," he said quietly. "I've been doing my best not to put a label on what I'm feeling, if that makes any sense."

Kaede turned her head slightly. "But if you had to?"

He opened his eyes again and slowly nodded. "I think... yes. No, that's wrong — I don't just think it." He sighed heavily. "I am. And I've probably known I am for a long time, on some level."

Kaede relaxed both her expression and posture. She smiled sympathetically before gently asking, "Don't you think she deserves to know that?"

Makoto lowered his head and raised his right hand to cover his eyes. He drew his fingers together slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tight. "You're... probably right," he said weakly.

Still smiling, she went on: "Even if she can tell you're crushing on her, that doesn't mean she knows how deep your feelings are. Besides — you already admitted you aren't certain whether she knows any of it." She looked down at the floor. "I think you should tell her," she concluded.

After dropping his hand from his face and raising his head to look at her again, Makoto smirked. "You should follow your own advice," he said.

She looked back and him and scoffed. "Easier said than done."

"Of course," he agreed. "It's always easier to tell someone else to go out on that limb than to do it yourself. But now it's your turn."

"Huh?" Kaede said, visibly confused.

"I mean it's your turn to answer the question you asked me," he clarified. "Are you in love with him?"

Kaede visibly flinched at the question. "Urrrrrrr... "

Makoto smiled a little. "Come on," he said teasingly, "You knew this was coming."

Casting her eyes downward again, Kaede spoke haltingly. "I.. don't know. Really." She cleared her throat. "I like him a lot... the time we spend together, it means so much to me." Starting to look up, she shook her head once. "But I've only known him a few months!"

Makoto's hand was again poised below his chin with his other arm wrapped underneath.. "There aren't time constraints on these things," he said softly. "There's not some required waiting period on your feelings. And you don't have to decide what you feel before some arbitrary date passes, either."

She shut her eyes. "Good!" she declared a bit louder than she'd intended. She reopened her eyes and lowered her voice before going on: "I'm just lost because... I've never been in love with anyone," she admitted. "Unless I am now, I suppose." She reached across her body with her left hand and grabbed onto her right forearm before looking back at Makoto. "Have you?" she asked. "Did you feel this way about someone else before her?"

Despite opening his mouth, Makoto hesitated before answering. After a long pause, he simply said, "No."

Kaede's face scrunched up in confusion. "Then how're you so sure you are now?" she demanded.

Makoto smiled gently and chuckled. "Look, I obviously don't know much about this stuff," he warned. "Coming to me for advice about love is like asking Iruma-san for etiquette tips."

She laughed. "I hear you," Kaede said. "But you sounded so certain. So, how?"

"I can only tell you what I believe," he said. "So maybe take this with a grain of salt." He took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "So... I believe love is one of those things that... when you know, you just know. At least that's how it is for me. When you made me confront and define my feelings, it seemed really obvious." He half-shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it has to be the same for you — or anybody else for that matter. Besides, does it really matter what you call your feelings or how you define them? Don't pressure yourself to make it something specific."

Kaede listened quietly while shifting her weight between her feeet as he spoke. When he was finished, she nodded. "I guess you're right," she said. "And maybe I'm just stuck because I've had-" She cut herself off and looked sideways. "Heh — no, forget it. You'd just laugh at me."

"I swear to you that I won't," Makoto said sincerely.

Kaede looked back and smiled gratefully. "Well... I had this idea in my head of what it would feel like to be in love one day, you know? I always thought it would feel, to me, kind of like the first time I listened to Robert Schumann's 'Fantasie in C,' Opus 17. Does that... ?"

Makoto was already shaking his head. "Sorry, but I don't know it."

"No, that's okay," Kaede said, laughing a little. "I should play it for you some time. It's a solo piano piece that's somehow grand and intimate at the same time. Powerful yet gentle. Frantic but tender." She looked away. "He wrote it for the love of his life. And to me, it sounded like what love must feel like. At least that's what I thought. But what I feel now is... this is completely unrecognizable."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm not sure if anyone can expect or predict what it'll feel like until they're in the middle of it," he theorized. "I just mean... different people experience things differently."

"Makes sense," Kaede said.

He tilted his head. "One more question," he said. "How would you feel if he suddenly wasn't in your life anymore?"

Kaede's face fell immediately. "Horrible... " she said, nearly whispering. "Devastated?"

With a fresh smile, Makoto nodded once. "Maybe you can start there," he suggested.

Her eyes darted back and forth as though searching for his logic. "Start with what?" she asked.

"Start by telling him that," he said simply. "It's more than enough."

She grimaced. "I don't know... " she said. "But... maybe." She looked around the room, considering.

"Just think about it," Makoto said gently. He gestured towards the clock on the wall. "Though maybe you should save the thinking for tomorrow? It's pretty late. We should both be trying our best to sleep."

"Yeah, I know you're right," she conceded. "I hope we can think more clearly in the morning." Smiling once more, she warned him, "This isn't the end of this, though! I'm going to keep encouraging you until you finally tell her everything."

"Oh, yay?" he said uncertainly, lightly chuckiing. He began to move towards the door. "But I'll be cheering you on, too," he added. When he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder. "And thank you. For the talk, I mean."

"Anytime."

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

End Note: I originally wrote 2/3 of this story in the summer of 2021 before abandoning it. At the time, I decided it wasn't a very good or interesting premise. And honestly, I'm still not sure it is... but when I saw this year's "Lyrical" prompt for Naegiri Week, my mind came back to this one, and I thought "Wouldn't it be nice to have something to post this year?" So I spent a few days completing this story and polishing it up. I hope it was worth your time.

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Text

Dating Bradley Bradshaw

Let's be honest, you're the popular couple

Funny story actually because initially both of you thought that the other one is way out of your league

You were classified as "married" even before getting married

Popular enough that people came up with a name for you - "The Chicken Coop"

Bradley's the type of guy to serenade you at any time for any reason

"The cool uncle"

There's a pretty impressively large group of people already fed up with Rooster boasting about "his girl"

"She has a degree in something I have no idea about but it's cool af"

A bit hard-headed, needs a moment to work up the apology

This means that he has at least once knocked on your door at 3AM with flowers

Normally you call him Roos or Bradley, "Bradshaw" is reserved for when things get serious both in a good and a bad way

He calls you Sunshine

Sundays are waffle days

Bradley always has his hand on or around you

In your college graduation picture, you're sitting on his shoulders

Your parents like him so much they are very upfront about their wish for you to marry him

Likes to be a bit over the top to impress you

But doesn't shy away from being embarrassingly silly to make you laugh

Fridge is covered in polaroids from your road trips and postcards he sends from deployment

His neck can go stiff from leaning down so he sits you on the counter/table to have your face at his level

Puts things just out of your reach that you have to ask him for help but it doesn't look too obvious it's his doing

If you fall asleep on the couch or in the car, he carries you to bed

You brought him once a bracelet from a trip abroad and he wears it as a good luck charm when he's flying

Doesn't like scented candles but because you like them he started to hate the lack of them

Maverick and the Dagger Crew™️ like to call you "Mrs. Bradshaw" just to tease you

Ever since you two got together, Bradley's rendition of Great Balls of Fire sounds slightly different, although no one can quite tell why

He's the definition of "dead asleep" because his hold on you might just be rigor mortis

More often than not you wake up sweaty with the weight of none other than Bradley Bradshaw pressing you into the mattress, which doesn't help in the Californian heat

You often wear his Hawaiian shirts and he can't get enough of that view

Honestly, you could wear a trashbag and Bradley would act as if you're a model from the cover of Vogue

Because of the stories about military wives cheating on their husbands as soon as deployment starts, some people have suggested that, maybe, you are like that too

It's something you and Bradley still laugh about because that's just ridiculous

Speaking of that, the two of you are very secure in the relationship so someone flirting with either of you leaves you unaffected

You definitely have a scoreboard of "The Most Cringy Line Someone Actually Tried"

That is, unless someone lays a hand on you

Has Bradley started a fistfight because someone got grabby? For legal reasons I can neither confirm nor deny that

Corny jokes and bad pick-up lines to make you laugh when you're upset

He has made a top-tier list of your chapsticks, lipsticks and glosses based on their taste

Matching colours when you're going out together

Bradley's a dork

You: Can you help me with the zipper? Rooster: Sure You: ... You: UP, Bradley Rooster: Right, obviously

Definitely wants to be a father but is anxious about his fitness for that role

If your kid calls Maverick "Uncle Pete" the old man might just cry

Black and white movies

Slow dancing even without music

Sometimes he thinks to himself whether he should shave off the moustache, just to change things up a little

But then you giggle and squirm feeling it brush against your skin and if there's one thing he will never do it's shaving off the moustache

There's always ice cream in the freezer

Watching musicals together

Absolute mayhem with water guns or Nerf guns

Handfeeding each other

Sharing snacks

If you're tired after a day/night out, there are only two options: Bradley carries either you or your bag

The type of guy to absolutely love the fact that you're comfortable enough around him to not always be dolphin smooth shaved or wearing well-thought-out outfits

Says "I love you" just before you fall asleep

Always cradles your face when he kisses you

Wandering hands caressing your skin

If you wear glasses, he's always carrying glass wipes

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readyforthegarden · 1 year

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Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None, pure cute date night fluff!

AN: This is based on the absolutely adorable post made by @sunfl0wer-power about date night with the guys, and Sam’s being pasta night. Brenna thank you so much for this inspiration and okaying me to write this! (To anyone who sent in a prompt the other week, I am working on them, I promise!!)

🍝 🍝 🍝

Date nights with Sam were always incredible. Since you met, he always knew how to have a good time, taking you out to dinner, dancing, a little dive bar for some drinks, even to a line dancing competition where you almost won fourth place (which was entirely based on charisma, in your two-left footed opinion). You always left the night with your cheeks hurting from smiling and laughing so much, and hot from blushing under his attentions and touches.

All that being said, you were relieved when he texted you one day, asking if you’d be okay with a date night at home, well, his home. You were excited for something a little more casual, asking what he had in mind.

‘I thought we could make some dinner together, watch a movie…makeout on the couch until our lips fall off?” you giggled, knowing the lanky man would quite literally go on kissing you until that happened.

“All of that sounds wonderful to me. Can I bring anything?”

“Just your cute self. And a dog treat for Rosie, she won’t forgive you if you forget.”

“I already have a milkbone in my bag for her 😉”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tonight, around six?”

“See you then, 😘”

“😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘”

Laughing at the string of emojis he sent back, you focused back on your work, glancing towards the clock and counting down until you were done and could leave for Sam’s.

After the longest four hours of work of your life, you were knocking on Sam’s front door, hearing the excited tapping of Rosie’s nails on the floor as she ran to see who was there, and Sam telling her it was you in an excited voice.

“Hi baby!” Sam grinned as he swung open the door. He ushered you inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he closed the door behind you and you knelt down to give some love to Rosie, having her sit before giving her the treat you’d tucked away in your purse. Standing back up, you turned back to Sam and wrapped your arms around his waist, just happy to be in his embrace. You pulled back and looked up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his pouty lips before turning towards his kitchen, hearing music spilling from the speaker in there.

“Are you playing Sinatra?” Sam shrugged and nodded.

“Fits the theme,” was all he supplied with a smile. You set your bag down and kicked off your shoes and put them next to Sam’s by the door and followed him down the hallway. The lights in the kitchen were lowered, the atmosphere already starting to feel romantic, making your heart beat excitedly in your chest. You saw a big mound of flour on the large, square island, and a small, metal machine with a crank. Fresh herbs were peeking out from a reusable cloth grocery bag, along with a crusty loaf of bread.

“Are we making pasta?” you turned to him, eyes wide. He smiled and nodded.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought a nice Italian dinner sounded good, and making it together from scratch sounded like fun.” Sam took your hand, gently leading you to the mound of flour and picking an apron from the other counter, draping it over your head. “Besides, there is nothing like the taste of fresh, homemade pasta. I had some when we toured in Italy and it just hits different. I made sure when we came back to learn to make it.”

“I bet that was amazing. Italy sounds amazing and beautiful.” you sighed wistfully, imagining drinking a glass of wine looking over the Italian countryside with a plate of carbonara.

“I’ll take you one day, I promise.” Sam murmured, reaching down and around you, tying the apron strings around your waist before putting his own on. He leaned his head back, shaking his hair over his shoulders and gathering it into a small bun at the back of his head, and you bit your bottom lip, trying not to stare at how handsome he looked with his hair pulled back. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready!” Sam brought you in close, picking up a mixing bowl and gently pressing it into the middle of the flour mountain, making a divet. Explaining that there were two types of flour in the mix, semolina and all purpose, he handed you the bowl, and instructed you to pour in the contents, bright yellow egg yolks, into the hole. Setting the bowl aside, you took the fork he handed you, and watched him as he showed you how to mix up the yolks and incorporate the flour. He had you try and soon enough, you’d made a large ball of dough.

“Okay, now we need to…well, knead.” Sam chuckled, sprinkling some more flour on the work surface. He left you try first, but soon his hands were over yours, arms around your body and front pressed to your back, helping you apply the right amount of pressure to work the gluten in the dough. He was letting out soft, quiet grunts from the exertion and your cheeks flushed.

“You keep grunting like that in my ear, we’re not going to finish this dinner.” you giggled, causing Sam’s body to shake against yours with a laugh.

“Trust me, you’ll hear them later, baby.” he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Focus on the pasta, and you’ll get a nice cannoli for dessert.” you shook your head, letting him know his joke was bad and he just laughed more. “Okay, no more jokes, let’s roll this out.”

After another surface dusting of flour, Sam grabbed a rolling pin, coating that with flour and starting to flatten out the dough. After a few moments, he handed it to you, and you took your turn rolling, before it was the perfect thickness to roll.

“What kind of noodles are we making?” you asked as Sam cut wide strips out.

“Papardelle. It’s just a little wider than fettuccine and holds sauce really nicely.” you nodded and took the sheet he handed you, listening to him as he instructed you how to run the sheet through the pasta cutter. You couldn’t help the excited squeal you let slip through your lips as you watched the separated noodles come out the other end of the machine as Sam turned the crank.

“Look!” you picked one up, pinching it between your thumb and forefinger and holding it up in front of his face. “I made pasta! Barilla who?” Sam just grinned at you as you admired your handiwork, and noticed a small bit of flour on the apple of your cheek. He reached out and cupped your face, swiping it away with his thumb as his warm, coffee brown eyes gazed down at you. If you’d been in this relationship longer than you had, you would’ve sworn it was a look of love he was adoring you with. You were certain your eyes were filled with the same emotion as he slowly, gently closed the space between you and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn’t help the little spring in your feet as you popped up to his level so he wouldn’t have to bend his back too far, making him smile as you softly placed your hands on his sides, using the fabric of his shirt to tug yourself closer to him.

After a few moments of the sweet embrace, you parted, both of you smiling and getting back to work, making more noodles. Once that was done, Sam lifted a large pot onto the stove after filling it with water.

“We’ll boil the noodles and while we wait for the water to heat up, we’ll start our sauce.” He pulled out a saucepan from a cupboard and placed it on the stove. Turning to the bag, he pulled out the herbs, a clove of garlic and a large onion. He handed you the onion to peel and dice as he took care of mincing the garlic, saying he’d handle the stinkier of the two.

“I already blanched and peeled the tomatoes before you got here, I didn’t think you’d want to sit here and peel them, it can be frustrating.” Sam informed you, grabbing a strainer from the sink. The soft flesh of red tomatoes shone under the kitchen lights.

“I didn’t realize we were making the sauce from scratch too!” you looked up at Sam, smiling excitedly. So far cooking with him had been amazing, you were excited to do more of it.

“This is not a jarred sauce household, babygirl.” Sam winked at you. “You’ll never use store bought again once you taste this.”

“Ooh, I’ll be the judge of that.” you teasingly challenged him back as you finished your last cut through the onion. Sam guided you back to the stove, drizzling olive oil in the saucepan and letting it heat up before having you add the onions in and then him the garlic. While that cooked down, you and him made quick work of cutting up the tomatoes, scooping out the seeds and putting the halves back in the strainer. Once that was done, he added them to the pot with the fresh oregano, thyme, basil and salt and pepper.

“Okay, we’ll let that boil for a little bit and meld everything together.” Sam started cleaning up a bit, and you pitched in, starting to wash the plastic cutting board and knives in the sink as he wiped down the counters and cleaned them until the pasta water starting boiling. You washed your hands and nearly danced over to the pot, watching Sam toss some salt into the water as the bubbles rolled. "I'll let you do the honors of the first pasta drop."

"Why thank you, what a gentleman." you chuckled, picking up one of the little nests of noodles. You let it gently slid from your palm into the water, and Sam picked up the next one, plopping it in unceremoniously, making you laugh. You finished putting the noodles into the pot, wiping your hands on your apron before moving around Sam and stirring the sauce. Sam came up next to you, a clean spoon in hand and dipped it into the sauce, blowing on it when he brought it back up and held it to your lips, cupping a hand under it in case a drop spilled. You opened your mouth, taking a taste of the sauce and humming as the fresh flavors coated your tongue. "That's so good, Sam." he smiled as he put the spoon into his mouth, pulling it out clean, nodding and doing a little dance.

"I think this is my best batch of sauce yet." he proclaimed, tossing the spoon into the sink and turning back to you. "And it's all because you helped me make it, I think."

"Oh I don't know if that's true." you shook your head. Sam wrapped an arm around you, pulling him into his side and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"It is, this sauce is made with love. You can taste it." you snuggled into Sam's side, letting him sway you around to Dean Martin's "You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Loves You" as the sauce simmered and the water bubbled in the background. Sam was humming along to the melody, and just as you wished he would sing, his voice softly filled your ears, his cheek resting on top of your head. "As sure as the stars shine above you're nobody 'til somebody loves you, so find yourself somebody to love."

You could've stayed like that all night, but the timer he set for the pasta started going off, and you had to leave the warmth of his embrace. You leaned up against the island and watched as he took a pair of tongs and pulled out a few noodles, taking one to the sink and running it under cold water to cool it before testing the doneness. He bit off a bit of it and then held it out for you. You took the noodle and bit into it, a perfect al dente. Dipping a measuring cup into the pasta water, he set that aside and went to drain the pasta.

He took it straight from the strainer and into the sauce pan, coating the noodles with the rich tomato sauce and adding just a little bit of the reserved pasta water and letting it simmer a bit to thicken the sauce. In the mean time, he took the bread from the bag, slicing it and laying the slices on a baking sheet, rubbing a cut clove of garlic over the bread and sprinkling some extra herbs on it once he'd put some butter on top. Popping the tray in the oven on broil, he timed it a few minutes before pulling out perfectly browned, crispy garlic bread.

Once the consistency of the sauce was too his liking, he had you grab two bowl-like plates from the cupboard and hold them for him as he plated the pasta, twisting it into a cute spiral on the plates.

"Okay, now just a little extra." he reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a wedge of parmesan cheese, and found a grater in one of the drawers of the island. He unwrapped it quickly and shaved it over the pasta, sprinkling it with the finest snow of cheese you'd ever seen, and then a pinch of some parsley he got just for garnish. "There. Perfect."

"This looks and smells incredible, Sam, I can't wait to try it." you rubbed your hands together excitedly.

"Follow me to the dining room." you expected Sam to lead you to his actual dining room, but instead, he took you to the living room. You hadn't noticed it when you'd passed by earlier, but he'd rearranged the space to fit a small table and two chairs. There was a bottle of wine at the table and glasses ready for a pour as he set the plates down. He came back and reached forward, untying the knot at the front of your apron and tugging the strings loose before taking the apron off you. He did the same with his and took your hand leading you to the table. You noticed as he tucked your chair in for you, instead of sitting across from you, he was right beside you, his knee brushing yours under the table as he sat.

"Sam, no matter what this tastes like," you began. "I just want you to know, this has been one of the best dates I've ever been on." Sam blushed and smiled, moving the hand closest to you and taking yours in his.

"For me too." he agreed. "You're easy to work with. And the kissing between tasks is a plus."

"Yeah, I'll cheers to that." you giggled. "Well, once you pour the wine." Sam reached out and grabbed the bottle of wine, opening it and pouring both of you a glass before raising his and meeting yours with a small cheers and taking a sip. From there, you both dug in, and you couldn't help the praises that slipped from your lips at how good the dinner was, glad that you'd made so much so you could ask for a little to take to work the next day for lunch.

"Okay, can I ask something?" Sam pushed the pasta around his plate for a minute.

"Sure, what is it?" you asked, dabbing your napkin against your lips as you set yours down. Sam took a small breath.

"I know it's dumb and silly, and you don't have to, but..." he squeezed his eyes shut before looking at you. "I've always wanted to have a Lady and the Tramp moment with pasta..." you took a moment to realized what he was trying to ask.

"Oh! Well...neither of us are wearing white, and it's kind of cute you want to do that...why not?" Sam lit up, picking up a long noodle from his plate and sticking one end in his mouth, and holding out the other for you. You got the other end in your mouth and both you and Sam had trouble keeping your giggles at bay as your lips inched closer and closer before the final bite, and your lips were planted firmly against one anothers.

"Rosie probably thinks we're idiots." Sam laughed, wiping sauce from his chin as you wiped some from your cheek.

"She always has," you shrugged. The two of you finished your meal together, and you helped him clean up, packing up the left overs into tupperware and into the fridge, nearly squealing with delight when he told you that two of them were for you to take home.

Sitting on the couch, you were snuggled up into his side watching the movie on the television, when you realized something.

"Hey Sam, is there any dessert?" Sam looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought you were stuffed?" he asked, and you leaned up, taking his chin in your hand and gently shaking his head back and forth.

"Well, someone promised me a cannoli..." Sam smirked immediately and wrapped his arms around you, leaning you back on the couch until you were flat on your back.

"Oh, there's dessert alright, c'mere baby."

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#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #endings are so hard and cringey to write idk

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