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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year

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being gorgeous

HAHA SORRY I'M A LITTLE LATE TO THE 2.0 REVEAL THIRST PARTY i passed out while writing this yesterday and it shows. and then i've done nothing else today except for write, eat a donut, write, reheat some pork chops, write, join an online meeting, and write. it's 8:23 am. bonus points if you can pinpoint the exact moment i dropped my phone and fell asleep last night. and also the point where it turned morning here and i started getting goofy. literally no matter what happens all roads lead to Oh My God Why Is Shu So Beautiful

funny story while i was writing this: i wrote p much all of this on my pc and i have all of the noctyx puppets around my desk area but taichou is the only one that's actually on the desk and when i was starting out for the day i couldn't concentrate because he was just staring at me like ._. so i turned him around to face the wall and somehow that was what kicked off 3631 words???

shoutout to 🍰 anon for making soooo many of my neurons activate. we have a mutualistic symbiotic relationship and i think i'm going to go insane. i've spent the better part of the last 24 hours just writing this and nothing else i think i've actually lost it.

tags: established relationship, suggestive content, making out, 2.0 outfit, praise kink, humiliation kink, hurt/comfort, self-image positivity ig?, soft dom reader, gender neutral reader, sex references under the read more but there's no actual sex lol

⚠ suggestive/sexual content, praise kink, and humiliation kink under read more. content under read more is not intended for minors

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All that muscle, and still Shu finds himself between a wall and a hard place. He wanted to try on something new, and naturally you were the first to check him out.

And, God, you checked him out. He wore a loose black robe covered in the skeletons and bones you were so used to seeing on a daily basis. The robe nearly grazed the floor of the changing room, and as he shuffled his feet, the fabric wrapped around the outline of Shu’s strong calves before returning to rest. A plume of fur adorned one shoulder while the other bore a moon pauldron that only drew your eye to the broad shoulders underneath. He tied his long hair up into a ponytail, the dark interrupted by streaks of pink and blond by his bangs, and purple hair fell down his back and caught the gleam of his bright eyes.

Though those bright eyes were cloudier with the shyness of being the center of your attention. He resolved himself to confront it. He cleared his throat and met your gaze, and asked, “Do you like it?”

“Shu, look at yourself.” You grasped him by the shoulders and turned him around to face the mirror. “Of course I do. You’re beautiful.”

He tried to keep a straight face, but there was no way he’d be able to hide his red ears with his hair tied up. “How do you just say things like that so easily?”

“Because it’s true,” you said. You rested your chin on his shoulder, right next to the armor, and watched the mirror as his face turned to roses the same shade as the marking on his forehead.

You get comfortable. “You’ve always been so handsome no matter what you do.” Your hands hold him by his waist, but it doesn’t take you long before one roams upwards. His waistline slopes out to his chest, and you feel Shu’s body shift as your hand slides under the fabric and cups one side of his chest. The mirror serves as a reminder that you were practically on top of him. “But honestly, Shu, you look so hot I can’t believe it.”

“I- I do?”

You mutter in agreement before you kiss his neck, languid and low where it meets his collarbone.

Shu gasps in surprise as it turns passionate, traces of your teeth along skin usually hidden by his hair. He softens into you as you fondle him, and when you circle his nipple he knows he’s doomed.

Teeth sink into his skin, and his breath hitches at the sudden pain. It quiets as your tongue soothes the mark, and goes blinding as you flick his nipple in time with a long lick. Shu can’t help but moan at that. His shoulder rises as nervous energy drips down his body from where your lips cling to his neck, and he knows you can feel him tremble as you toy with his nipple.

The kisses rise higher on his neck, a line of desperation even though you know you have all the time in the world. It’s more like you need to make him know he’s cherished. You weren’t kidding when you complimented him earlier; he’s always been good-looking, and you’ve never been shy about that. But trying a different look made him just as tense as he was excited, so you’re here to shoo all those insecurities away. After all, you’d be lying if you said his new look didn’t turn you on.

You take a glance at the mirror's reflection. Shu's eyes are shut. His long lashes flutter between his makeup, and his lips are parted as he takes all the sensations in. Meanwhile, you look sly and calculated as you cast a sideways glance to your reflection. A bit of your tongue pokes out of your mouth and along your latest attack.

Using the mirror, you take Shu's head in your hands as your lips run over his ear. His eyes snap open into lovely crystal, stunned and sparkling.

“I don’t think I can resist you,” you whisper. "Look at yourself."

He averts his eyes. "I mean, I'm not all that."

"Oh, you are." You turn him to the mirror as your fingers glaze along his chin. Your nails lightly scratch at his jawline, and he can't help but stare at the movement in the mirror.

Out of the corner of his vision, he catches his expression and nearly kicks himself. Was he really that out of control? His horrors are realized when he notices the bead of saliva at the corner of his mouth. He swats the back of his gloved hand over it.

But you catch Shu's hand before he can even wipe it away. "Don't."

"But..."

"Stay still."

Following your command wasn't so hard. He was frozen in place anyways.

It takes everything he has to not react as you drag your tongue up his jawline between the fingernail scrapes. His heart hammers as your lick curls perfectly around his lip to catch the saliva before sliding it back into place inside his mouth.

He follows what feels natural, and when his tongue meets yours, fire runs in your blood. Outside it, too. Sorcerous flames kick alive around his head, then fade just as quickly as they appeared. He's a light show even in his invisible unconscious, and sparks course in your open-mouthed kiss in jolts of hot heaviness.

The hand that caught his earlier leads him as he takes a step back, then another, and his third ends flush against the wall. Shu's ponytail swirls around from the movement, and brushes along your body as you pin him to the wall of the changing room.

There's a loud smack as you end the kiss, breathless and heated. Shu's lashes blur over his enchanted purple eyes, and a few strands of black and gold-blond hair get in the way of his face.

"So handsome," you say, and move his head back to the mirror. "You can still see yourself?"

He barely rustles out a yes, but you feel his head nod slowly between the nails on his jaw and tangled in his hair.

"Good. I'm glad you get to see how handsome you really are." Your grasp crawls up to his cheek. "Watch yourself, and don't dare to look away. I want you to see yourself become a beautiful mess. Can you do that for me?"

Another nod, slower this time.

"Say it."

Shu swallows, and struggles to put the words together. He didn't think he was ugly per se, but he always thought of himself as just plain average. One of the many so-so faces out there in the world. All your praise breaks through those thoughts like an arrow smack-dab in the center of a target, however, and he's abashed at how easily you can say something he's never considered himself as.

It's unfamiliar. A new feeling, really, and likely the one he was dreading when he decided to wear something new for a change. Shu doesn't consider himself a head-turner—that's usually reserved for one of his friends, and he's used to watching them in the limelight from his own comfortable corner of darkness—so now that he's the one against the wall with eyes on him and nowhere to run, hot shame tempers his blush. The mirror only intensifies the feeling.

He looks back at himself. His hair's already messed up from the hand against his scalp, and one side of his neck peppered with the indentation of fangs along the soft skin. Not to mention his decidedly uncute face, with hands far prettier than his own around his jawline, murky eyes crinkled from his perverted pleasure, and yet another string of saliva down from his swollen-red lips. It was probably left over from the kiss. He thinks he should call it disgusting.

Your face rests along his in the mirror, and he can feel your breath on his cheek as you massage his flustered face. You're way more attractive than he is, and he has to wonder: does such an average-looking guy like him really deserve to have such a beautiful person dote over him like this?

"It's okay to indulge yourself, you know," you suggest. Your voice is golden caramel and rich chocolate. "You really are gorgeous. Even if you don't believe it."

Gorgeous. The word bounces around his head. He's never been called gorgeous before, and he nearly turns away on instinct.

The new feeling, he decides, is being gorgeous.

You smooth over one of the long locks of hair along his chest, where you teased him earlier. It feels like silk through your fingers, and as you reach higher Shu's eyes widen just a little more. Then you see the glassiness between the color, and you realize there's more going on in his head than you thought.

"I'll take care of you, if you want me to." You put your agenda on hold just to make sure you aren't about to overwhelm Shu. "Do you want me to?"

"Reader, do you really think..." Shu lowers his head as he fights to form the sentence. "You really think I'm... that?"

"I do."

"And you're not just saying that?"

"You are, I swear. Here, let's take a break real fast." You step away and give Shu some space, but he keeps his back against the wall. He exhales, and the color drains from his face. “Stop me if you need me to. But when we met, I thought you were really pretty. I really liked your sense of style, and the colors in your hair, and I liked to sneak looks at your biceps." You laugh a little at that. "I love your eyes a lot. They're really bright, and whenever you smile, they always squint a little.

"That's one of the other things I really love about you, whenever you smile. You like to laugh. So you smile often, and it's always because they're something to be happy about, and that makes me happy too. Sometimes because it affects me too, and sometimes, just because I love whenever my partner gets to enjoy himself."

You scratch the back of your head. "And, um, I came off a little strong when I saw you, so I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to do that at all. It's just that I got used to seeing your usual outfit, so now that you're trying something new..." You laugh again, but this time it's a gentle giggle, and without lust fueling you, you feel a bit embarrassed. "I mean, I really did think you were beautiful before, especially once we got closer, and I got to explore you more. But this is a whole other level. You've really outdone yourself. Like, I couldn't even hold back when I saw you, I was just so attracted to you that I didn’t even think. I really should have, though. I didn’t mean to cross a boundary.”

Shu’s eyebrows raise. “What? You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that…”

He trails off. He slumps over and slides down the wall with a sigh as he sits. His ponytail rests along the floor and along one of his sleeves. "I know you compliment me often, but I never thought you seriously meant it. No one's ever said things like that to me before."

"Really?" You sit next to him. "Should I stop?"

"No! No, you're fine. I mean. I think... It's not like I didn't like it." Shu buries his face into his hands and groans. "I really liked it, actually. I think it was just too new, and it's second nature for me to deny how good it feels, and—" He cuts himself off to muster up his courage. He lowers his hands just enough to peek out, but his fingers thread through each other and hide his face. "I've never been called gorgeous before."

"Was that okay?"

"It was perfect," he admits. His eyebrows relax, and his eyes squint. You don't need to see the rest of his face to know his lips curved up. But he dilutes his swoon with another sigh, and you can tell he's disappointed in himself as he drops his hands to his side. "I wish I wasn't in my head when you said it. Sorry for ruining a good moment."

"You didn't ruin anything, Shu, what are you talking about?" You reach to hold his hand, but hesitate, unsure if he wants to be touched. But he turns his palm over to met yours, and you connect. "I'm glad we're talking about it, and I'm hoping that it's helping you work through it, too. I'd hate to do or say anything to you that you couldn't handle."

"Thank you. That's really sweet of you." You take in how he wraps his fingers around yours and squeezes. "I'm going to calm down for a moment."

You sit together for a moment. His face is a slideshow between thoughts, and you rub circles along his hand with your thumb as he recomposes himself. You trust him.

You send comfort through your fingertips on the changing room floor, and his deep breathing turns to silence as a minute passes by. Then Shu turns to you, and lifts your hand in his. "Do you want to try again?"

"You're up for it?"

He nods, and this time it's with all his energy. "I was really looking forward to it. Can we?"

"Of course, Shu, anything for you." Already you're starting to feel warm. You get up to your feet, and bring Shu with you.

You're not so sure if Shu is aware of this, but even in his weakest moments, he moves elegantly. Not so much that it looks practiced, but he rises nimble like the shadows he channels his sorcery through. His long hair rests on his sleeves, then slips behind his back airily as the leathery wing along his torso flares with the motion.

He doesn't let go of your hand, even as he steps back and rests against the wall.

"You're okay with this?" You ask.

"It felt nice."

Your hand lets go of his, but it doesn't break away from his glassy-clear skin, and instead takes in the shape of his arm. His inner wrist is so soft, but the skin gets pleasantly rougher as you continue upwards into the plush of his forearm, and by the time you reach the peak of his biggest muscles, the plush turns firm.

The other holds him by his hips right under the sash of his robes. You can wrap yourself so easily around his waistline, and the urge to snatch him up is stifling.

But you're on a mission, and Shu's straight nose is dusted with pink, and when your hands both squeeze his body, a short gleam of fire spirals out behind him, and yet, his vivid, royal eyes are what captivate you the most.

You're so lost in his long lashes and the flecks of galaxy that you feel helpless, even with him pinned underneath you. "Shu, can I kiss—"

You get your answer before you even finish the question.

It's like you never paused in the first place. He enters your mouth first, and you match his movements, crossing along his tongue as if it was your lifeblood. It probably is. Shu has a tendency to unlock hunger like you've never known it before.

His arms unconsciously flex at the contact. Aroused, you drive forward and force him further against the wall, and when you hear the rumble of a moan between your connected lips, your fingers clutch harder at his waist.

Your bodies are flush against one another, and as you lean forward, you feel the telltale silkiness of his hair. You don't dare to open your eyes as you fumble around for a tuft to tangle your hands in. Shu pulses in your mouth as you take hold, and parts just enough to aim for your bottom lip as he returns the favor and bites. You hear a lewd, liquidy smack as he hurriedly glosses over the nip, then back to your parted lips. Every time there's even the slightest tension between his hair and your fingers, you notice, he rushes to kiss you harder.

So when he goes in for another round, you move your mouth away. His eyes flutter open in confusion, then shocks into surprise as you drag him in front of you. The mirror reflects his surprise right back at him.

Your head perches on Shu's shoulder. "You up for this, baby? You want to see?"

The heat returns. His reflection is another reminder of how he's totally at your mercy, and all the shame that comes with being so whipped that he already looks this ruined.

But you called him beautiful earlier. Gorgeous.

He kind of likes the shame.

"Yeah," Shu says, breathless. "Y-yeah, I do."

"Good boy," you coo, and that washes a whole new set of feelings over him that he files away for later. He tucks his chin away, embarrassed at the name, but he's still focused on the reflection as your reach to the top of his head and the beginnings of his ponytail.

Shu grew his hair out long, and you comb through the ponytail as it loosens down his back. "Pretty boy," you say. Your voice is tempting so close to his ear, especially as you gather his hair together. "Pretty boy with pretty hair. You take good care of it."

He lets out a hum deep in his throat as you smooth through it, only for it to turn into a startled choke as you grab at the base of his head. He chides himself for not seeing through your plan, but not enough to stifle how the choke turns into a moan as you pull. His neck jerks back. Then your lips make contact with his nape like a vampire to prey, and the moan turns into an even more humiliating yelp. The mirror proudly displays his neediness, but the high pitch is yours alone to keep.

"Didn't mark this side earlier." You mutter as you blow cool air over your latest kiss, and bask in how he shivers storms. "You like that?"

"Mmm, feels good," he says, voice wavering.

"Sounded like it, too. I liked hearing it. Gives me a chance to keep playing around with you."

His common sense tells him to protest, but he's too enthralled by the rough kisses and pulls. You tug on his hair to move him instead of asking him, and the way that you can command him without even using words both impresses and mortifies him.

It's the bites that send him over the edge, though. His nape is your territory. The first hickeys have already darkened on the other side, and when he sees you ravenous over his elongated neck, it's dirty and starved and lovely.

You press a kiss under Shu's ear and he jolts at the pleasure. When you suck, he inhales shakily, and lolls his head to the side. He had no idea that he just put himself in the perfect position. "Just like that, stay still. That's perfect." You weave your fingers through an open seam in his outfit, and when you leave your next mark, it's with your hands over his chest underneath the fabric. You grope his cleavage. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."

"H-how did you even— nngh, ah!"

His nipples were already hard enough, but then you just had to go and twist the damn thing like it wouldn't send him so far down to hell that he'd come back up in heaven.

"Just like that, Shu, baby, you're doing so well!" A flick on the bud here, a pull on his ponytail there, your words barely able to ring out as you frenzy between the kisses and the licks.

Whatever noise hangs in the air, it's downright pornographic, and it's only when Shu sees his open mouth in the mirror that he realizes that's his voice. It wobbles between a cry and a huff. Pink and purple dances around his hazy reflection, but as aroused as he is, he recognizes them as his harmless fire. He didn't even know he did that.

The fire trails behind his head as everything goes hot. He can barely think straight, but the only thing coursing through his mind is that he's never been able to feel delight like this before.

Where you stand behind him, Shu rolls his hips, his neck still held back against your body. You've been doing such a good job of keeping yourself together, but the slow coursing is a death sentence. You welcome it wholeheartedly.

"Mm, Shu...!" That elegance is seriously biting you in the ass right now. Even when he's horny, he's graceful, but you ache for more.

And even when he's submissive, he's strong. You tend to forget that those biceps aren't just for show.

Shu practically plucks you out of the embrace and to his side. His voice is husky but whiny. "Mirror or not, I'm not about to go down on you standing up."

"Let's get you a bed," you negotiate. The sooner you can get all you love out of your system, the better. "Lead the way, gorgeous."

He doesn't waste any time at all. He holds his arm out along the small of your back and rests his hand against where your hips connect with your thighs, and as you shuffle out of the changing room he keeps you close to his, brushing up against you all the while. You'd almost think he was preening.

"Gorgeous," you utter. Hopefully he learns how one day.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #luxiem x reader #luxiem #shu yamino smut #shu yamino nsft #shu yamino headcanons #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #luxiem smut #luxiem nsft #luxiem headcanons #4402 writes #this is all over the place but i just want to make out with him.. that’s all i ask.. dies (real)#me strugglin to unreliably narrate shu calling himself uncute while literally everything he dislikes is so hot:#ty to all-nighter 4402 for the hc that shu has reactional flames when he's really emotional couldn't have done it without you

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silusvesuius · 14 days

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unleashing the same hellscape i did on my notes app here it's my nelvas thinking dump i wrote just for fun and to keep track of what i view them as up 2 this point. Might change my mind on it later on it has a lot of things written in brackets for no reason . it's like ~2500 words long which isn't much but i think i said everything i've had in my mind for now read it for fun if you like to have fun leik me :) And talvas :) And nelothxP

retyping what i said in the tags of those last text posts and rearranging those thoughts a bit: in my train of thought that's been going steady since early 2024 i'm almost certain that neloth might see talvas as the epitome of being morally Clean (before that changes because of neloth's influence over him) and generally pure as a person. pure not used in the Pervert way; neloth is just a veeery big fan of talvas having absolutely no backbone and being very docile when it comes to him. which is r expected traits 4 someone if they find themselves under neloth's thumb as an apprentice, but it being written that he isn't at all catty and defiant to his face is cute. all talvas manages to do is shit talk neloth to others and pray neloth doesn't find out he meant the things he said but also can’t help feeling bad about it, even though neloth doesn't and wouldn't care, if he found out. neloth is happy with being an obnoxious & disgusting person. truly.. him growing obsessed with talvas' docile and innocent nature doesn't necessarily have to add up to him wanting to Taint or Ruin him (and if it happens ((it does)) it's not done on purpose, neloth can't hold that much control and power of his actions in that specific department). he encounters difficulties when he realizes he actually wants that Elven Twink.. it's too far gone to fix anything after he's tampered with talvas' patience and stability, and even then he can't be honest with talvas about anything, because he still wants to hold a great deal of power over him (neloth essentials for survival).

Might be the type to just want talvas to magically(haha) think it's okay that his wizard master desires him and expect that energy right back without talvas actually acknowledging it because it'd make neloth feel insanely cringy and embarrassed.. humiliated.. EVEN. but that's just in a deep deep dark corner of his mind, he isn't stupid. when trying to gain 'access' to his apprentice ("*His* apprentice" is also kinda funny way of viewing his mind too. just cause talvas is working as an apprentice under him neloth probably already feels a concerning sense of ownership over him that makes him feel very good) he can't even make the signs of interest be apparent to talvas because he's insanely inept at being Soft and honest for obvious reasons. he can tell what possibly could make talvas warm up to him even after he treats him like shit for eons but there's no way he's bringing himself to do it (change is embarrassing, especially in their formal dynamic, and especially at his age). so it's a half-assed attempt (actually he's trying his hardest🙄) to try and make talvas be (at least) less afraid of him. not that talvas has any other place that we know of that he "Belongs" to, he just sticks with neloth regardless of anything. neloth watching him as he sleeps ensues . Guys what do i do to make my apprentice let me hit because all of the eye contact i do with him while gripping his arm or petting his knee isn't helping.

if we were to go back to how that spark is ignited in neloth swamp of a heart, brain… idk, it has to be when he realizes talvas' capability of forgiveness and 'Sucking it up' instead of lashing out at neloth after .. anything, but perhaps physical abuse in particular. neloth a 100% has absolutely no problem putting his hands on anyone, especially someone he sees so often, such as talvas. not that talvas really annoys him (his clear and voiced obedience pleases neloth as anyone can tell), but he just doesn't see it as too much of a big deal. the physical mistreatment that happens once in a blue moon isn't intense enough to scare off talvas for sure anyways. neloth is a bitch so all he can so is smack him at the back of the head (talvas finds it very normal) and slap him if he's feeling festive (something talvas finds kinda extreme but not that it happens often. he sometimes feels like he deserves it, or that neloth is warranted to do as he pleases. he tosses around it being justified or pitying himself, though). May be possible that neloth would realize he Like Likes talvas once he slaps him, mayhaps, for the first time, but talvas' immediate reaction to being treated like that is just sadness mixed with feeling shame for tearing up/crying in front of someone he respects *bishoujo sparkles sfx*. talvas is a delicate soul so he can't hold warranted emotions like that for long, and even tho it's expected of him to be making eye contact w/ neloth in a setting like that, he wouldn't be able 2 bring himself to do it because looking at neloth would make him wanna burst out in tears like a weeeee baby. Booo hooo.. talvas is the 19th century (4th era) damsel that runs out of the ball in tears after no young cavalier invited her to dance. watch this bleed into the most awkward and silent week of neloth's entire life because talvas doesn't even really feel like speaking to him or looking at him, but neloth doesn't wanna brute force the usual respectful etiquette out of him cus he thinks that's just gonna make talvas hurl himself down on some rough rocks at the seashore. Good thing talvas is very spineless and forgiving (especially in relation to neloth… i mean.. who r YOU to not forgive him) so that might just last a day or two. the hurt always stays tho. neloth this is why talvas doesn't wanna smash you.. you might've made some conclusions about what elven twink you like but talvas is just even more scared of you now. was your Pervert awakening worth it. and even if we do backflips and jump thru the point where everything is too far gone for either of them to go back, dude is still too afraid to make out with his apprentice. Deserve. but why though because talvas wouldn't refuse. for what reason? we may never know

^^^ this makes me feel like i love seeing characters i reaaaalllly love (elenwen and talvas in this case) as enigmas in situations where they're confronted with something so ""Intimate"". elenwen's stance on this is final tho cause she's a grown ass woman and there's no way you could reshape her brain. ulfric left her mind plane in SHAMBLES. talvas has more right (in the literal sense) to be erratic or inconsistent with his actions. maybe he likes to be desired. Also i strongly believe that talvas has probably never been in love (for any reason rly but it's mostly him not having actual time for it + not seeing it as something that is important to him at that point in his life)… i want neloth to be his first experience with Love so that it ruin his view on it forever. can't get myself to say he'd be in love with neloth at any point though. From his standpoint it really should feel empowering and 'nice' that neloth wants him in many ways (ew).. cause that's a man with status.. power.. ability to do anything rly . talvas is in no condition to be playing mind games with him or anything tho so don't get that idea. he's not strong enough of a person to be Tricking anyone or to be Playing with anyone's feelings. neloth would be immune to that, too. neloth can just kinda tell talvas is too good and … UNTAINTED. talvas wants to see the best in everyone. too bad he genuinely detests you, neloth.. so: he doesn't actually love neloth but wouldn't be happy to see his tombstone either. SO (PART TWO): if you time it right he wouldn't be against getting Freakkkkyyyy with you okay?but no promises

even if @ some point talvas develops indistinct feelings towards neloth cause of neloth's own incessant weird-mild advances it wouldn't have to mean he just likes old men permanently now. actually it kinda does. i can sorta feel it rearranging his braincells and making him unable to normally interact with people in his age range. he probably already had a hard time talking to others in hopes of developing a friendship just cause he's timid but after neloth's nonstop abuse and Accidental romance mind games he morphs into a whole new type of guy. it's hard to notice at first but he'd probably just start to leech off of neloth's prissy and unbearable personality in a natural course of things + neloth is the only person he sees and talks to on the regular pretty much. < this can just be reworded as just the cycle of abuse and whatnot. if he notices an opening in the abilities and Smarts of another person, especially someone his age/younger, he will automatically see them as umm…stupid. and also insult your abilities to your face if he snaps. he strikes me as the type to be afraid to say what he really thinks (another consequence of being glued to neloth all the time when all talvas does is act like he totally respects anything he says) and gets scared if anything slips out his mouth but is proud in letting the "Truth" be known because he already figured out you're a lesser being than him. he's just cloning neloth's verbal abuse braincells though he would never put his hands on someone. his desire to be mean and see himself as superior stems from neloth always disparaging him obviously.. talvas 4 that reason is very self conscious of his abilities and doesn't rly think he's all that useful or talented. his self doubt then would play into how he doesn't know when to believe what others are saying to and about him.. i wanna imagine that talvas is very oblivious to neloth's weirdo status just cause he partly doesn't even want that thought to cross his mind. i bet everyone but him sees it and finds it gross😕 but nobody in the vicinity is strong enough to tell neloth that he should be ashamed LMFAO. if you would try and even hint to talvas that it's happening he'd never take you seriously and just get mad. he's protective of neloth's image more than neloth himself is; not that people knowing neloth has abnormal sodomistic inclinations toward his apprentice would make his public image worse than it already is (everyone already thinks he's weird so it's not shocking at all) but talvas still wouldn't wanna hear it cause he thinks it's just false. maybe he's just ashamed that he's being brought into the whole thing. also because he doesn't wanna face the reality EJI23JRIO32KJ Well talvas when neloth makes an actual move on you don't say that we didn't warn you.. we're all waiting till neloth's status as an obvious apprentice-pervert becomes obvious to you

even if he's willingly ignorant of the fact he still thinks of the 'accusations' a lot when he feels like it. and unknowingly begins feeling even more uncomfortable in neloth's presence. heart starts beating faster and everything. neloth could come up to him meters away and talvas would still cover his mouth in realization and be like "i knew it… the DB told me but i didn't wanna believe it …..😦 so you really do like young men … and you're in love with me ..😨" *Neloth wakes up from this fever dream drenched in sweat* < neloth doesn't want (obvi) talvas to react that way at any point because he himself would just get scared so they'd just be staring at each other wide eyed. but talvas jumping into his advances isn't what he wants either (that'll also scare him). neloth is still relying on talvas' politeness to let him do as he pleases. but it is impossible for talvas to let it slide without questioning anything regardless so🤷‍♀️ take your few Ls and move on. neloth just wants talvas to sit on his lap. wants to spoonfeed him soup. he's so romantic. he also wants to(sniper on rooftop blows my head to bits). neloth is actually a pretty touchy feely person when he's feeling Frisky (=deranged about talvas). I'm certain his favorite part of talvas' body is his legs. talvas has beautiful young man skipping leg day legs. so nothing special at all but neloth wants to touch them lol.. let your master wizard squeeze your calves and he might just be occupied enough like a kid playing with a fidget toy to not abuse you verbally for 3 seconds. as i said befoar neloth is unpleasant with his touch because he doesn't know how to be soft + doesn't even want it to necessarily feel very 'rewarding' as to not pamper talvas. petting talvas kinda turns into a nervous habit for himself and an instrument of some sort of Reassurance 4 talvas when he wants him to know he’s not mad, for example. non-vebal confirmation. talvas still finds it weird but thinks it’s a charm point too. neloth wouldn't even be against touching him familiarly in front of others but only in a "older male figure" ways ex. touching his knee or putting his hand at the back of his neck (talvas sees it as some sort of disciplinary tactic though). physical touch that matches neloth's age and is enough for it to be seen as not necessarily romantic / overtly weird.

there'ssssss no saving talvas after such a powerful person gets his hands on him. any will to leave would leave HIM either out of fear or out of attachment and neloth wouldn't just let him go (Alive at least) since he knows the things he knows. if talvas were to escape i'm a Truther of him not feeling in place and wanting to go back cause it's the stability that he's used to. but tbh if he encounters neloth on accident anywhere he's gonna start running. I was drinking tea while writing this and started choking on it i just nearly died writing this are youhappy. anyways, nelvas is a never-ending abusive relationship that doesn’t even have High highs, all it has is low lows. neloth always mistreats talvas for any reason but is never genuinely kind from the heart or out of remorse. .. hmm……yeah. I forgot to type this back out from my posts tags > talvas might just start viewing neloth as fuck crazy and demented after he Finally notices at least one molecular sign of gay attention from him . like ‘Oh wow Master Neloth obviously doesn’t get any female attention or anything cus he’s a sick fuck why does he have to search for it from me Can varona take the hit for me 🥺 *sees her dead body being dragged by the DB* hmm i guess not well i’ll figure something out i guess’ (he doesn’t) also the dialogue talvas has with varona after he steals neloth’s book trying to conjure some bs up will always be so cute to me he’s so defensive and afraid of neloth finding out. Him trying to decipher neloth’s handwriting is cute TOO ik their 19th century love letters to each other would go crazy and make sense to anyone but each other but i’m not gonna talk about 19th century girl talvas x neloth rn it’s too much . what ever. i think i’m done thank you i should just go back to drawing them as grecian pottery red figures or smthj Fun stats for you 4 getting to the end: times the word ‘abuse’ is used: 6

#text #i've been putting more meaning(?) into the nelvas-es i've been drawing lately so i wanted to see how it would reflect in words #the fact that dis will show up in tags will haunt me a little bit but if i add asteriks it will be incomprehensible LOL #i hope this isn't too hard to understand when reading bc i know i have an easier time reading stuff like this instead of 'snobby' writing -#- bc i like knowing how the thoughts were brewing as they were written down.#but it may not be the case for all people.#what do U think of it.#i think what i;ve always liked the most in being able to talk w/ people Online is getting to know their thoughts on the same thing #more than anything else #i literally sucked and spit out all of the skajrim lore factors out of their relationship pretty much (not that it had much in the first -#- place) so it's just a reading on a possible scenario with the characters i was given #i mean characters i put in the soup pot decorating the middle of my brain #this is december-may 2024 facts for now #just so i remember #abuse //#< OKAY #log #< is gonna be my tag for this type of thing if i end up saying more because i already started torturing my notes app with what i think of -#- civil war characters #tumblr is pussy so it made me reformat the paragraph breaks i made. they don't rly matter anyway but still

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cherubispunk · 6 months

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UP IN YOUR ARMS (CHAPTER ONE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

a note from Lucy: chapter one! I'm digging my own grave here. thats all im saying. i promise it is focused on joel and the reader later in the chapter. im just setting the scene for differnt relationships in the series.

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wc: 6969 (haha lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

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The jazz band was one of the finest groups in the city. ‘Only the finest for The Canary Club’, as Johnny had put it.

Johnny Boy Finnick.

Now he was a man. Played sports in college, muscular, strong arms that pinned you to the wall or mattress or table. Hands that shuffled playing cards with ease and had you screaming far after the night was over. Deep blue eyes and blonde hair that never fell out of place from its slicked back style. Not even after he had crushed someone's jaw under the weight of his pummeling, bloodlusting fist.

Johnny made a name for himself bootlegging liquor, too young to fight in the first world war. Took over as The Boss of Boston. It’s how he got his name. Johnny Boy. Fresh faced but the heart of a ragged old man. Lost it all after the second world war, gained it back not long after. A killer with a bone deep yearning for blood, money, violence, and you.

He sat in his pressed suit, legs parted as he leaned over to display his full flush to the table, flashing a killer smile when he collected the money off his right hand man and three more of his boys. You smiled from the bar, beads of your dress twinkling in the low light of the speakeasy, ready to waltz over with another old fashioned and drape yourself in his lap.

“Thanks, Henry.” You smiled at your oldest friend, taking the drink he had placed down in front of you on the bar. Henry was your age, 25. A boy from Hartford, Connecticut, grew up in Kansas, then moved here looking for work in a big city. Honest, hardworking. Sweeter than cherry pie. And his little brother Sam was just the cutest pip you'd ever seen.

“No problem, Doll.” He teased, which deserved a roll of the eyes from you.

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“This would make it…” he glanced up for a second, as if calculating within his mind, “one too many times to count.”

“Funny.” You gave him a quick bitter smile. All in good fun, clearly, for he took no offence. He just shot you a smile, running a clean rag over the bartop, collecting two glasses and wiping the rings of condensation they left upon maplewood.

“Your man looks thirsty. Might wanna take him his drink now. Before he gets the wrong idea about me talking to ya.” You sighed, craning your head slightly to look back at Johnny who scanned the place with a scowl. It made your skin crawl the thought of his temper snapping again. Despite it, you left Henry with a playful wink his way before swanning back over, placing Johnny’s drink in front of him and a vermillon kiss to his cheek.

Johnny sneered at the affection, wiping your lipstick stain from his cheek. All the confidence you had fell to the floor and shattered miserably. Liquid courage sloshed on the cured wood floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Doll. What you do that for?” He demanded of you, the disgust in his cruel cerulean eyes sending a chilling, agonising jolt down your spine.

“Sorry, Johnny.” You shied away, folded your hands together, eyes on the floor.

“Ain't you gotta powder your nose or something? Go on. Piss off.”

He was right. You’d be on soon. Drenched in the spotlight. Under the scrutinising, side cramping glare of everyone's eye. You could do with the quiet. So you shuffled off to your dressing room without a word more, holding back tears with your breath.

In the mirror, you mourned the girl you were. Mourned the life you had before it all turned upside down. Mourned the man you fell in love with. And the monster you had no choice but to stay with.

—

Joel was fuming. If you touched his skin you'd reel back with a scorched yelp because his blood ran hot, fast and thick under his flesh. Trust Tommy to catch himself in the web of underground crime. Always a joiner. Always a deserter too when things got heated. And who was left to untangle him from its intricate, venom snared weave? Joel ‘Gubbins’ Miller. He might as well have ‘mother to my brother’ branded on his forehead. Because that's what he was now.

The war ended four years ago and ever since Tommy had been searching for his purpose. Preached about it round the dinner table in their grimy, mildew inhabited apartment like a preacher would his sermon. And every time it set Joel’s teeth on edge. Because he knew what came after the downfall. The pickup.

Now, however, Joel was determined to nip this lunacy in the bud. Tear it up from the soil by the new roots.

The Canary Club was one of the few remaining speakeasies around in Boston. To a cop it was practically a ghost of an establishment. Might as well not be there. But to a man like Joel, whose brother never stopped babbling on about the next best thing he had cooking for himself, it was as easy as pie.

A shroud of cloud hung just above Boston’s looming buildings, teaming with the early moon to create a murky gloom over the dim city’s sin. It seemed to fill the hollow, smoggy air as they cast dark, taut shadows over the slick, grimy roads. The sky threatened rain for the third day in a row. A place that reeked of underground crime, drug rings and watered down, once bootlegged alcohol, laced with what one can only assume to be illegal too. All of that was washed down with the constant sour smell of new rain upon dirty tarmac. A city plagued and tarnished by its own rejects.The promise of work bought them in. But the lifestyle spat them back out. Chewed up and ruined by their own humanising hope.

He and his brother came in search of work. They were getting nowhere down south in Texas. On the dole and barely able to afford a loaf of bread between the two of them. Even their own mother hardly recognised her boys after the war. Said they were empty shells of men. Husks of the boys she raised. Killers.

The woman was a pacifist at heart. And it was a trait that Joel not only saw as weak, but typical of women. Or that's what his father had socialised him into thinking. He didn't know where his father’s ideals ended and his started. As the days went by he saw more of the violence his father harboured in himself. Grimaced at the lug in the looking glass.

Joel was no pacifist. But he didn't storm through the doors either. No gun was in hand ready to send people screaming bloody murder. That was stupid. A mistake that he knew could wind him up on the concrete in the flooded gulley with a bullet in his head where blood and water could finally mix. Instead he stole in quietly in the ambience of playing cards and a Jazz band, ordered himself a drink, and sat at the far corner of the bar where it was dimly lit. Just enough for him to see his drink and the room, but his face still remained shadowed.

While he sipped in ponder, he took the chance to people watch. Scan the patrons for any uncanny resemblance of dear Tommy. But nothing. He seemed distracted by the careful and steady hand that polished glass after glass, though each of them were spotless before touching the rag.

A pointless task. Some may say sisyphean. But the boy doing so knew when eyes were on him. It was a very rare occurrence if not related to his race. People of any darker colour were ogled often in these parts despite it being more accepted within the north of America. There was still divide and segregation. However, this new patron wasn't looking for Henry’s skin colour, rather contemplating how on earth a boy such as him had ended up in such a place. What connection he had to the gang. Was he like Tommy? Roped in at the side of the side of the road and choking on his remaining pride. Or in a sticky financial situation? All these questions seemed to circle like the rag in the crystal glass Henry held.

“What’s your name, kid?” Joel asked him with an ex-smoker's voice, brow dark in the shadow. The boy looked up, eyes youthful, but they'd seen things no man should have to.

“Henry.” He said after a beat, quick to refill Joel’s glass when it was empty besides a drop circled thin and amber in the bottom. “Yours?” Joel lifted his head, taking a sip before placing his glass back on the bartop in furrowed brow contemplation.

“Joel.” He leaned forward on his forearms, haunched over the bar, before looking around again. “Whatcha doin’ here, Henry?”

Henry laughed slightly, looking down at his feet before back in Joel's eyes. And what he was met with was the hollow ache of a man scarred by war. Henry’s face fell flat.

“Working.”

“No…I mean in Boston.”

Henry cleared his throat at the sudden, and even brash way Joel approached his question. So much that it took him a second to frown and then reply.

“Came from Kansas. Hard for a black kid to find honest work there. Especially with a family to look out for.” His words were solemn and reflected a truth Joel knew all too well growing up down south. Even if he never lived it in his own white skin.

“You look a little young to have a kid.”

“I don’t. I got a brother.” Joel nodded as he listened, waiting for him to go on. Which he did after a beat of silence. “Bright kid. Bright future too. He’s deaf though. Got a lot stacked against him in this world. Mom can't bring in enough to fund education for ‘im. So I stepped up.”

“No Daddy?” Joel asked and Henry shook his head. “How’d you end up here then?”

“A girl.” The look Joel gave Henry was sceptical. But the young boy was soon to put a stop to it all. “Not a girlfriend. Just a girl. We grew up in the same building. She moved up north for a life and I followed a few months later. She met a guy. A wealthy guy. And she wrote to me often of how swell Boston had been for her.”

Joel wasn't the questioning type. Neither one to beat around the bush. But Henry intrigued him. Reminded him a lot of Sarah. The challenge she had faced with the colour of her skin that he, as a white man, would never understand. He felt a guilt about it every day that flared up in the dark of night before his eyes closed for restless and futile sleep. “And this guy?”

“Him.” Henry nodded subtly over to the table of men playing cards. Poker. A game Joel knew well in the frontline and in Egypt where he fought. Him and a few others often huddled together in their own game. Nothing but the last pair of intact socks to bet on, or a single cigarette to get them through the night. Joel quit smoking the moment he got back. Knew it was something that made him unpredictable and jittery in the best of situations. “Johnny Boy Finnick. A big name in these parts.”

Joel followed Henry’s gaze, but his attention was snagged by the unmistakable head of dark curled hair facing away from him. He knew his brother anywhere and his blood began to boil as he threw back his second drink and slammed the empty glass on the bartop.

“Hey, man-” Henry tried, shoulders straining as he stood to attention. Joel didn't pay him any mind. Merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before his bar stool sharied upon the varnished wood floor. He cared not for the noise. Only the feeling he would get once his closed fist met the bone on the bridge of Tommy’s nose.

Trumpets flailed to a stop and drums failed mid blow. The room fell silent after a chorus of gasps.

He loved his brother. Deeply. So much it caused a chasm of a rib cracking hole in his chest every time Tommy slipped up. But he saw red now it all caught up behind his lids that blinked once. That split second of not seeing and before he had a chance to second guess, he was gripping the back of tommy;s collar and wrenching him up to his feet to deliver a shiner to the face.

Tommy staggered back, and everyone at his table stood up with the intention to harm. Yet no one but the brawling brothers fought. As he gained his footing again, he also gained his senses, recognising Joel anywhere.

“Joel, what the fu-” He was hardly able to finish before another shooting pain split his bottom lip open and Tommy’s mouth was filled with the taste of his own bitter blood. Blood he and Joel shared and were now shedding in a futile fight of nothing but testosterone. That was enough to send the same foul blow to his kin. Joel winced, knowing the crescent of a bruise that would bloom on his cheekbone overnight. One of Tommy’s many rings sliced his skin. He felt warmth in crimson dribble from a fresh flesh wound.

“Hey!” One loud and bellowing voice that had the power to command a whole unit of men boomed out before neither Joel or Tommy had the chance to throw another fist. It was for the better. Any more and Joel’s knuckles would have bruised purple. A colour of shame.

It was Johnny. And his face was stoic as he stared each brother down with a burning gaze that had even Joel’s hairs stood on end at the nape of his neck. Like an army stood to attention before the first charge. Except he didn't move. Joel knew now where he stood in the food chain of this speakeasy. And it was right at the very bottom. “You!” He pointed at Tommy. Go clean yourself up.” And Tommy went as pale as a funeral sheet before nodding meekly. His face melted from shock to shame in the blink of Joel’s very eye before he grumbled something under his breath and passed Joel with a sharp clip to his shoulder.

It's his turn now.

At this point you'd come out to see what the commotion was for. The walls, while thick upstairs in the printer's press, were thin in the basement. And you;d heard silence and the spit of a man as his blood splattered with spit on the floor in the doorway.

“The fuck do you think you’re doin throwin’ fists in my god damned club for?!” He roared. And Joel had to take the duration of both inhale and exhale to get his lips and tongue to work. But the scowl on his face said it all. “Huh?!” Jonny’s nostrils flared like a spanish thoroughbred bulls’.

“That’s my brother you got workin’ for ya. I ain't havin’ him in some shady drug ring you got goin in. I aint!”

Jonnly was no stupid man. Hr was smart. Quick minded and knew a man with balls. But Joel also knew very little. So this one time, he took the approach of calmness, and used his usual lying tongue for truth. Any other time it would she forked like Lucifer's serpent form. But now he was a man of coolness. “Right.” Johnny nodded at him, his tone was one that could soothe a ravenous bear. But with an edge as sharp as a knife. So sharp it could slice skin in one swift swoop. “Sit down.” He commanded calmly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

With a wave of his hand a cha was pulled out. Two heavy handed brutes shoving Joel down into a chair, an old fashioned presented to him by Henry in front of him on the maplewood table. Then Johnny addressed the room gently. Set its patrons at ease. The music played its jazzy, jolly tune once more. People spoke again.And Johnny took his seat opposite Joel.

“Look here…” The gangster waited for Joel to give him his name. Which he did. “Joel, I appreciate a strong swing as much as the next guy. But I don't appreciate it in my establishment.” Joel nodded in understanding. His temper ashamed him. How it ran hot under his skin. Fizzled white when provoked until he saw red in rage and swung. Never blindly though. He wasn't a loose cannon like the broken soldier stereotype enforced. Just a fractured man.

“You’re a soldier aint ya?” “Was.” Joel said gruffly. Curtly and he brewed a stare across from Johnny.

“Oh, nah.” Johnny shook his head, swirling his drink in the crystal glass, “Once a brother in arms, always a brother in arms. The war sticks with ya. You’re a soldier.” “Fine. Yeah, I'm a soldier.”

“I know the war. I served like you. Left a boy and came back a shell of a man. Now look at me.” Joel took a moment to calculate his motive here. Johnny’s arms stretched wide with a smirk of pure pride as he gestured to the heart of his Boston crime empire. “I got money. I got birds.” He held up his glass to Joel, “I got liquor.” then leaned forward and spoke in a grave tone, "What you got?”

Joel swallowed harshly, unable to answer because he had nothing in reality.

“You got a job?” He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No.”

“Figured. Hard finding work when all the women are competent enough to do it themselves. Fight for your country. End up on the streets. You don't die a hero like you thought you would. No one knows your name.” He scoffed, holding fingers up in air quotes around competent. It left a bitter taste of disgust in Joel’s mouth as the father of a daughter. Curled the edges of his tongue distastefully. Made him kiss his teeth to hold back the insult. “Well, people know my name.” Johnny paused again, the air grew thick between them and smouldered on their shoulders. He was squinting at Joel opposite him, sizing him up. Joel was rugged. A strong build and most likely a strong character too. Something Johnny could always do with having in abundance. And so when the devil's own smirk curled at his lip, Joel felt a question brewing at the very tip of his tongue. One that would change his life for better or worse. Regardless of it he declined or accepted. “And they could know yours too.”

Joel didn't want to admit it for the sake of his crumbling pride, but the man had it all. Even a good five years his junior, the man made a living for himself. Picked himself up from the dirt and used bloodshed and bodies for the foundations.

“I could use a guy like you–”

“No.” Joel put his offer down flat before it had the chance to meet the air.

“Hear me out.” He said calmly, and held up a hand, “A roof over your head. A steady income. A little extra dough in ya pocket?” Johnny rubbed his thumb and index finger together in the older man's face. An action to which Joel’s nostrils flared. It was embarrassing to even mull over. “Come on,” Johnny smirked. “Give it a go.”

The southerner’s lips pursed, as if he was thinking it over. Which he was. But to what lengths would he go? Sure, Joel was conditioned in a short few months to kill. He was good at it. Mowed down men on the frontline like clockwork. And his trigger finger twitched at the thought of holding that power once more. But that didn't mean he was a man without morals. The men’s blood he;d coat his hands in had families. They were someone's son. Probably someone's husband or father. Joel knew the hollow ache loss left. The imprint of a shadow it left. The chasm ripped in your chest. Loss felt like an agonising, deep, helpless pit. But here was Johnny, throwing him a rope

“You know, you’re right. This ain't the time to talk this over.” Johnny held his hands up and leaned back in his seat before they clapped back in his lap. Now you were at Johnny’s side once more. But the figure of Joel in his chair had something jumping in your bones. Tongue curling to taste his very words. “Dollface here will patch you up.”

You raised a brow, giving the two of them a dirty look. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?” You shut up when Johnny glared. Swallowed your pride, and sighed inwardly. You both hated and loved the power he held over you. As much as you despised it at times, Johnny had your being wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer holds his strings. And tightly. You felt his tug at the strain in your limbs.

“And you come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk in my office over a drink and a cigar. A good fucking drink.”

—

Joel swallowed harshly when he saw you. Eyes, wide and decorated by dark mascara lashes, white liner on lower waterlines, face of a doll like Johnny’s nickname for you suggested. The red lipstick you had re-applied moments prior was glossy, inviting him to stumble over velvet words he would hear you speak. Lean closer so the blood red could graze the shell of his ear while you would whisper a dirty joke at him.

He followed as you led him down a corridor off to the other side of the bar. Your dress seemed fit for hypnotising him into your bidding. Surely you were a siren who climbed the strats of a pier of the east coast and arrived here. Something about the beauty you wielded was not the everyday sort. It was the type you see women bend over backwards to achieve even a glimmer of for their man who came back after work. He could see himself now. Loosening his tie, hanging up his coat and hat. Leaving his briefcase and sanity at the door to see you in a pinafore and pin curls. Pretty gingham dress. He’d sit at the table and either be presented by you or a meal for his satiation. He’d prefer to devour the sweetness between your legs.

Your hand in front of his face had his attention now. Fingers snapping. Nails manicured and painted the same shade as your lipstick.

“Hey, you listening?” You asked, face set into displeasure. Joel straightened as he cleared his throat.

“What?” His tone was gruff and he mirrored your expression to you. His southern accent catching you off guard, but is intriguing.

“I said sit down.”

Joel looked over at the chair set at a vanity mirror you gestured to with an extended arm. The second time he had been asked to be seated. The second time he obeyed.

You took your time to wet a washcloth in the small basin in the corner with warm water. Took the bottle of whiskey you stashed last week from the bottom of a rickety chest of drawers. Joel watched you in the mirror, eyes narrowed a fraction to make sure you were of no threat to him. He knew he could take you easily. In more ways than one. The power imbalance had his length twitching in his trousers.

Your hands weren't gentle as you sat on the vanity between his legs. You took his stubbled chin in your grasp and jerked his head up into the light, tilting it to take a closer look at the gash.

“Stay still.” You said curtly, holding the rag to the opening of the bottle and wetting it. You then pressed it over the pad of your finger. The initial touch made his teeth bare at you and a hiss to escape his mouth. His large wrist enclosing around yours to make you stop. “I said,” And you yanked your wrist from his hold, “stay still.”

He did as he was told again. Silence setting his between the odd hiss from him and twitch of muscle under weathered skin. The crows feet at the side of his eyes were old. He clearly had lost his smile to something in the past. But you didn't ask, only wondered as you wiped the dried blood clean from his wound. “Fuckin grown man and you cant take a little sting of a cut.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself in amusement. Followed by a small huff of dry laugh.

“Maybe if you weren't digging your fingers into a fresh bruise I wouldn’t be wincin’.” You shot him a look and let go.

“All done.” And you held up your hands for good measure.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and crossing your arms. He reached for the whiskey and took a large gulp, pursing his lips at the slow burn in the back of his throat.

“None of your business.”

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” He stated lowly. He was right. But you found a sick satisfaction in having any man you liked bend to your will. Answer any question you so pleased to hear the answer to.

His bones groaned as he stood up from the chair. Your coat draped over the back of it fell to the floor and you swiftly got up to swipe it from the floor and hand it on the hook on the back of the door before pressing your back to it and facing him. Blocking his exit. “Move.”

“Tell me your name.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin up at him.

“Don’t make me move you, princess.”

“Tell me your name.”

Joel bit his tongue, the vein in his neck starting to pulse visibly under his skin that once again went hot.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I’m nosy.” You smiled, sarcastic and saccharine. “And i want to know the name i’ll be moaning tonight as i touch myself under the covers.”

“Fuckin-” His jaw ticked, nostrils flared in his disdain. You kept your smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a small guttural noise from the back of his throat. A headache was starting to coil behind the strain of his eyes. “Joel.” And he looked back up at you. It still wasn't enough “Miller.” Your smile was genuine this time, just as sweet. You uncrossed your arms, standing up straight from the door to hold out your hand and give him your name in return. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle and swerving you. He pulled the door but you used your body weight to slam it shut with your back again. A loud slam and a creak of protest from its hinges.

“Where are you from, Joel?”

“Is this a game to you, girl?” Joel growled.

“Yes.” The smile you had was sly. Foxy. A single finger ran down his chest and dared to slip just under his shirt’s collar. “I like games.”

“You don't wanna do that.” He warned, dark eyes burning you up inside from your very core. It was the look of a man’s lust that had been left untouched, unloved for quite some time now. It strained at his morality. But who were you to give up the warning and keen hand of a man who so desperately needed a release to the coiling tension of his shoulders. You saw it. Felt it in the rhythmic yet chaotic hammer of his heart against his ribs. As if it were trying with all its might not to break his own bones clean in two and lurch from its enclosure of flesh and bone.

“And why not?” This was a devils game of chess. Careful calculated words from loose tongues and taking each other's moves in as you exhaled a counter. And oy had him three moves from checkmate. His king weak in defence, your advances stronger by each word that fell into his eras from your red painted, enticing lips. He could feel his limbs being string up for you to pull at like a puppeteer in an advanced level of her craft. But he was no kind man. His words were even less forgiving than his disposition.

“Because I aint a kind man. Haven't been for a long while. And I know types of things a man like me would wanna do to a pretty girl like you.”

“I doubt it would be anything new.” You cooed, watching your finger as it traced a line lower over his buttons, stopping at the top of his belt buckle and just shy of teasing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

The tension between you was thicker than molasses. And it seeped through the cracks of his better judgement to the part of him that hungered for touch. That was ravenous for a single one of your fingers.

“I don't think Johnny would like that.”

“And I didnt like the way he spoke to me earlier.” You pouted. The way a child would when dined a sweet treat before dinnertime.

“That aint a good reason to start an affair with me. Because when i get my grubby hands on ya there ain't no going back, doll.”

His words were enticing you more. To have a man obsessing over your body. Your curves. Your voice singing his name as he fucked you dirtier than anyone into anything. Joel was that man now. He knew it in the very marrow of your bones that you were trouble. His new little minx. So it was no surprise when his lips crushed yours under the full weight of his sexual frustration.

It was needy. Heated. A clashing of tongues and teeth as he pressed you with his entire simmering being into the wood of the door. His bulge grinding desperately into your thich that parted his legs.

His tongue swiped your lower lip before drawing it back between his teeth for him to suckle on until it tingled deliciously. He was jealous with his touches. Groping your hips as the sating of your dress that crumpled to the floor. It revealed sweet sweet skin. Skin Joel wasted no time in delving in for the first damning lick. A pleasure to every sense. Sight, taste, touch, smell, sound.

Heavy breaths were exhaled into the dewy skin of your clavicle, tongue languidly sliding over the high points of your collarbones and enclosing in a sharp suck over the skin just above your right breast. It sent a chorus of heavenly sinful, light and airy monas from your mouth and floated into his ears. His lips were chapped and weathered in contrast to the silk smooth of your skin. It was delightful.

He went lower, got to his knees as he drank up the sense of a woman's skin for the first time in years. This was the taste of true damnation. He was past the opening of hell's gates and somehow found heaven in the parting of your thighs down the newly trodden path of your navel.

He pressed his open mouth to your clothed cunt, tasted the seeping slick you gave him on his tongue and gluttonously inhaled your musk right at the apex of your thighs. Your fingers tangled into the curls of his messy, wind wrecked hair. Keening your hips up to press into the curve of his aquiline nose, and riding the burning in the pit of your belly starting to grow. Your head fell back against the door. Your mouth unhinged and letting out moan after sigh after mewl of his name. His face buried between the meat of your thighs as his hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them so he could push his face deeper between your folds. Your underwear drenched and ruined from your wetness and his spit while he tongued your hole through the flimsy lace.

You pulled him back, smirked at the wreck he was with his lips sticky and shiny in the light of your dressing room. To then pull him up to your lips so you could curl your tongue into his mouth and taste yourself on him. It’s where the taste belonged. Among notes of whiskey and chewing tobacco and drugstore gum.

His large hands pawed at your hips once more, listing you so your legs could wrap obediently round his waist. That's how it worked now. He wanted, you gave. And willingly like the sounds that fell into his motu like sweet, freshly harvested honey. Ut had the feel of money. Powerful and green like spring leaves. But with the warning of rotting when summer meets its tragic and fatal end. It was like trying to cross a canyon with a broken limb. Near impossible. The last sip of a drink that would ensure drunken and slurred movements. It took even the nest of a man his entirety to deny you, But deep down, Joel was a weak man. Strong in body, maybe mind too. But weak in soul. And he gave in with the cashing of your back against the vanity mirror.

He had his faults. He knew that. And you did too. It had you wondering how a man like Joel loves. Did he change for his chosen lover? Or was he just as rough a callus as he was with everyone else. Would he destroy and ache and leave you wondering when your body would be at his whim next and how he would bend it to his will. Or would he let you lean into his embrace as he kissed down the column of your throat to the holy entitled epiphany between your thighs. The glisten of your hot cunt aching to be touched by anything. His everything.

So you reached for his belt. So you undid it along with his buttons to touch his heated skin, To feel the blood flow beneath as the strain of each of his muscles. You ran a hand across his chest and he let his head fall back as a woman touched him for the first time as a man of war. A veteran.

He felt like he had been cast in gold by the sun for the first time in his life. Shed his skin for a new layer reserved just for you. As if he was thanking whatever resided up there for you. He was no believer in god, but, Jesus Christ, he was starting to believe in some form of higher power. You were proof that there was a blessing for him to steal away from the world. It was in your sound. Your taste. Your touch. It beckoned him the way your finger did, curling into the collar of his shirt to clash your lips with his and let. He had no autonomy over the moan that fell into his mouth where it festered at the back of his throat and was swallowed with a desperate and heady inhale.

You trod roads into his skin with your touch. Ones he knew he would follow later that night in an erotomaniac’s pleasure. And you finally pulled his length free from his trousers. Your underwear was soon to follow and your slick aided the way he managed to sink so smoothly into your sopping heat. A squeeze he would commit to memory and savour like the taste of fresh and ripe fruit. Because you were. Fresh and youthful in age. Ready to be devoured to the core as a gleaning red apple would be. The very same one that even took in the garden of eden. Temptation. Fruit flesh to signify sin.

He took his first bite out of you with a satisfying crunch. And keep devouring until there was nothing left but the remnants of your birth, ready to be resurrected, grown again in the form of a new tree.

He stilled once he bottomed out, letting himself bask in the moment. The first time he was nestled deeply in the walls of your cunt. He heard your quiet whimpers for him to move. Felt the way your pert nipples brushed his sweat slicked skin. It was a ghost of a memory the last time he felt this. The heat of someone in the throes of intimacy. And it was all over him. It was the very air he wes starved of. The past was all paled in comparison because of the way your hips bucked pathetically to feel his thrust inside you. To get him going. No one had needed him this rawly, this undignifying before.

A single hand clamped over your mouth, stilling your movements. He felt the tickle of your exhale against the pinky finger.

“Stay still…” He commended with a swallowed down groan when you clenched around him, ironically repeating your words from earlier.

You looked at him. The glazed over, far away look in his eyes. His voice low and laden in a gravelly tone that came from the very back of his throat. You pulled him forward to lick it out again with your tongue when his hand fell to your throat. It gave a warning squeeze. And you once again canted your hips in protest.

This time he moved. And it was like poetry as it hit that toe curling spot inside you. Made your eyes close in blissful ignorance of what this would do to you. YOu slick drooling from your cunt onto his shaft until it shined at his very base and dripped down his heavy balls.

His hand squeezed your throat tighter. Had you yelling for him in a suppressed squeal. His other hand clamped around your mouth for you to moan into. Your words of praise lost on his ears, listened to by his palm instead. Every devil was fuelling this act of infidelity. This act of carnal sin you both needed. Ut unwound your bones, but had the coil in your belly cramping with each swift buck of his hips.

You met his swift thrusts in a desperate attempt to be of use to him. Finding it hard to breathe, yet alone Your cunt spasmed delectably. Searching for a new feeling. A feeling primal and dirty as the streets of Boston. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your legs trembled while he went on, giving you something you would remember from this day forward, A sentence of being binded to him.

You were in the arms of the devil himself. St his ,ercy. Nsd nothing felt more thrilling than the pleasure that rolled at a landslide's power and pace down your spine into your core.

Another squeeze round your throat. Another unhinged moan into his hand. He snarled, baring his teeth at you before pressing his face into the crook of your neck and biting down. Your eyes closed and painted a picture of stars. You were close to seeing angels by now and the deep ache of pleasure grappled your flesh and had goosebumps flicking up to attention over your flesh.

His chest heaved with each curl of his hips. Your exhales heavier by the second while you moaned his name like a mantra to his hand. His teeth imprinted on your back like a randhishing. A mark of the sin that was witnessed by the two of you that day. Your voice was shrill. A repeated ‘Joel! Joel! Joel!’

“Fuck, yeah, sing f’me doll. Sing f’me. Let em know who’s doin’ this to you.” He panted in vain. “Tell me.” “Feels so good–”

“Again.” He demanded.

“Feels so good! Too good!”

And it was. He had you burning white hot at the end of an illicit teather. You gripped his back with talons of hellbirds. Clawing at his shirt clad back. The wings of hi shoulderbales. The snake length of his spine.

“That’s it. Tell ‘em. Tell me! Tell me in making you feel fuckin’ good.”

“You are. Harder Joel.” His pace was like poetry. Ripped you in tow and had you displayed to him. One knee was hooked over his hunched shoulder, spine curled as his forehead pressed to yours. `The new angle had you singing like a songbird. High and melodic in tune. Your kitten heel slipping off and clattering to the floor without a second thought. The head of his cock nipped your cervix. The lewd wet sounds of your pussy smothering him in your slick and your shared moans filled the room. Everything of you was his now. You couldn't even think of giving this up to Johnny. Yes, he fucked you dirty. But Joel fucked you like it was his sole purppose of living. Like it was what gave him life.

You fell. You fell as soon as you hit your climax with a mewling moan that ended Joel right there and then. Coming together with heavy breaths and shaking, trembling chests. His release inside of you, strings of his come smearing you in him. Marking you for later. Well and truly ruined for any other warm body that dared to slip into your sheets.

But falling was not the problem. Only when you hit the ground is what causes all the grief. And the look you shared once the gold haze of afterglow faded was what confirmed this.

What have you done? How would you live without this?

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Breakaway State part 3

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - Tank is a thief, Price is still having bad dreams, Luke pitching a tent, Toy fighting*, Mckinley has control issues, Jumping out of helicopters and Kyle is just happy to have Tank back.

A/N - Honestly, I love you lot! The memes the asks all of it thank you so much! I know this was meant to be Sqaud * and 141 sharing but I've split it up to be honest it just means the next bit is halfway done and will be uploaded sooner x

Warnings - NSFW, smut, safe sex, p in v, Angst. Language, Age gap Price (39) reader (25), Violence, fighting, abuse, abuse of power, injury, Blood, mentions of death, mentions of scars

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha

Tags: @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81 @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here @deadbranch @soapyghost @fluffysmiko @bangirl134 @mortallyscrumptiousmilkshake @boomtowngirl @fanficandartgal @merakiaes @tapioca-marzipan @boniscute @chb-7 @adicthao @a-littlebirdie @mostannoyingbillioner @brewed-pangolin

If I've missed anyone, please let me know

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd and Mckinley

Masterlist link here

“You heard anything from Tank, Kyle?” Price knew you and him spoke often.

“No not spoke to her since last week…Oh But I did get sent a picture…wanna see?” Kyle pulled his phone out searching for the image. He smiled angling his phone towards Price. It was a candid picture of you, you looked deep in thought or spaced out the looks were the same. You must have been on a mission when it was taken as your were fully geared up AK hugged to your body, you were cold…you hated the cold. Price stared at the image for a few minute longer…then he noticed your hat…a black beanie with a little green stitch, too big for your head because it wasnt yours, it was his. Price gave a little chuckle. When had you swiped that from him?

“Something funny boss? I know she looks like a right miserable get” Kyle took another look at the phone smiling.

Price felt a sense of pride knowing you had his hat on, even thought the T-shirt was back with him you still had his hat, still holding on. Still had some of him with you.

“Yeh she does…who sent it to you?” Price still hadn’t looked away from your face.

“Dredd sent it over, said she’s doing ok, but…” Kyle paused he thought for a moment if it was a good idea to tell Price what Dredd had mentioned.

“But? Go on…” The flutter in his chest had been replaced by a sinking feeling now. Something wasn’t right and it something wasnt right he needed to know.

“No…I think she’s just homesick…you know how she is…different team, different ways of doing things Tank is stubborn shell learn”

“Yeh you can say that again…if she would have spoken to me I would have put her straight…Mckinley is a nut job…but hey she went off thinking she knew best…”

It was clear Price still felt the sting of you leaving without telling him and his nights were still plagued with vivid nightmares, the latest one was of him of finding your lifeless body in a ditch, him being too late to save you as always, Mckinley taunting him from inside his head. It was safe to say Price hadn’t had a good night's sleep in weeks, but what else was new.

*******

“That’s meant to be a 2 man tent?” You looked at Luke as he finished hammering in the last tent peg.

“Yes it's meant to be a 2 man tent… cosy one” He burst out laughing he had no idea how the air mattress would fit. Neither did you…least you were used to sleeping on the cold ground, there was that time in Bahrain when you and Price had slept in a ditch together in the middle of the desert. A faint smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Luke thought it was for him.

“Have you seen through my plan? Is now a good time to say there’s only one sleeping bag? It’s an extra large double one, but I’m a big guy” He backed you up against his Old Defender, arms either side of you. He did cause a stir inside you he really did, your body reacted well to him, but your mind hesitated.

“Only one sleeping bag? Why do I feel like I’m in a romance novel? I’m sure we will manage Luke, I’ve done my fair share of sharing single mattresses and sleeping bags! It will have to do for the next 2 days” You laughed thinking about when you had to share a single bed with Kyle in a grim hotel just outside of Columbia, Kyle was a cuddler. That had been for 2 nights only getting a few hours relief when Price would wake Kyle up to change watch. Price had slept in the questionable armchair the first 2 nights letting you take the bed, he only gave in when you shouted at him to get in bed on the last night. When Kyle came to wake you up to switch he had found you tucked into Price, your face buried in his side and his arm around you tight. Kyle decided against waking you and went back on watch. Later when being asked why he hadn’t woke you. He said it was too precious of a moment to ruin! It was the best you had both slept…especially as later that night you ended up getting shot not telling Price and attempting to sew yourself back up.

“I’d love to visit that planet that you go to so much?” Luke was currently fiddling with the drawstring on your hoodie.

“Ill get you a ticket for next time” you reached up pulling him into a kiss just as he pulled the drawstrings tight making your hood close up.

******

The fire crackled, the smoke permeating your pores and hair follicles. As you watched it crackle, Luke watched you, the way the warm orange glow light up inside your eyes and the way the shadows moved around your face.

“Getting pretty late, wanna hit the hay?” He couldn't hide the smirk, he knew you could see right through him. You shook your head, laughing. Oh yeh you definitely did see right through him.

“Yeh wow look at the time…9:30pm” You leaned into him. His sturdiness supporting you. Luke rested his head on top of yours he loved the way the smoke had mixed with the smell of your shampoo, he could smell it on your skin as well, Smokey sweet vanilla, it made his mouth water. He pulled your face up to meet his, his lips softly making their way up your neck, his beard rough on your soft flesh. It gave you goosebumps, he could feel them under his lips. He wanted you there and then out in the open, next to the fire.

“Luke…lets get inside the tent….” You ran your fingers through his hair , your nails raking his scalp. He didn’t need to be told twice, he picked you up almost falling into the tent.

“Christ sake Luke! Haha don’t want the air mattress popping do we!” Your heart was beating through your chest. Were you nervous? You watched as Luke fumbled with the zip of the tent. He quickly removed his boots an yours as he did you pulled your hoodie over your head, Luke mirrored your motions also removing his jumper. A grin plastered on his face he made you giddy.

“Help me off with my pants please…” it was a genuine request there wasn’t any room to stand up in the tent so pulling them off was a struggle, he nodded instead of rushing like before he gently hooked his fingers into the waistband slowly shimming them down your legs till they slipped off. He unbuckled his belt leaning forward to slip his jeans off his backside as he did he fell forward into you, making you both burst out laughing.

You helped him pull them off with your foot.

Luke knelt infront of you, both in just a T-shirt and underwear, he began to run his hand back up you leg the roughness of his palm causing a little gasp to escape, his thumb stopping over a large scar on your thigh. Oh you remembered why you were nervous now…Luke still didn’t know what you really did for a job…he hadn’t seen all your scars he had only seen the ones on your hands. It was a good job blood didn’t stain skin. What would he say, maybe he wouldn’t notice all of them, there was a fair few. Maybe you could leave your T-shirt on? Maybe he wouldn’t even ask?

“How did you get that?” He was still running his finger along it. Shit. You had been stabbed by one of the world's most wanted terrorists? No!

“Fell off my bike as a kid…into a metal fence” you quickly pulled his face forward into yours, kissing him gently, catching his bottom lip in your teeth. Even in the dimly lit tent you could see his pupils had blown completely. He had all but forgotten about your scar, but you still started thinking of other excuses to explain the many others. Luke pulled his top over his head you instinctively reached out to touch his chest, you ran your fingers over the dark chest hair. He was solid exactly how you had imagined. He pulled you to the edge of the air mattress, you thighs resting on top of his, he was boiling hot it almost stung your skin. When had you breathing got so heavy? He motioned to remove your T-shirt but you clung to it, you hands flying down to hold the hem. Luke’s up in the air as if he was showing he was unarmed.

“Ok…top can stay on…but can I…” he reached around you slowly as if you may snap at him any moment. Once you realised he was just trying to unhook your bra you eased up, pulling the straps down to help slip it out from under your T-shirt. As soon as the bra was off he gently pushed you down onto your back. He rested his hand on your hip his thumb rubbing back and forth. It sent a pulse down to your core. With his other he cupped your breast softly licking at your nipple through your T-shirt softly biting at it as it hardened under his touch. Arching your back you felt his bulge brush against your centre he was big. You felt the rumble of a moan as he sucked your nipple he was now rubbing his thumb over your other one. Even through the T-shirt, you could feel his warm breath as he sucked. You wanted his hands all over you wanted them searing into your skin. As he pulled back to admire you he let out a small groan. His mouth sounded wet an you wanted it on you.

“Look at what you’ve done to me…” he had pulled his cock out an began slowly stroking himself you could hear the wet sounds of it in his fist as he pumped away. He knew how to pull at your cords you could feel the slickness in between your thighs your underwear as soaked as your T-shirt.

“Touch yourself for me…” He almost sounded like he was begging. You did as you were told pulling you underwear to the side. Before you could get your hand near yourself Luke had your fingers in his mouth his tongue running over each finger. You nearly melted into the floor.

“Nice an wet for you…” he placed his free hand on your thigh a tight grip. You were speechless.

You dipped your fingers inside yourself, an you were right he did know how to pull at your cords. As you rubbed little circles over your clit Luke pushed his middle finger inside you, your walls immediately clenched around him.

“Let’s see what two fingers does to you eh?” As the words left his lips he slipped his ring finger inside you slowly curling them up, the thickness of them caused you to let out a little whimper.

“There’s a good girl…does that feel nice? Tell me”

“It feels so good…sir…”

The combination of you rubbing yourself an his fingers had made your mind go to mush. You didn’t realise what you had said till you heard Luke chuckle.

“Sir? I like that…what about Captain?”

The word brought you round from your haziness, like a smack to the face it felt like a sharp sting. Luke picked up on your sudden mood change while slipping the condom on.

“Sorry too far?…I don’t mind sir…or whatever” in an effort not to ruin the mood you played along, he wasn’t to know you had imagined many a time Your real Captain an you in this very same situation. He didn’t know he was partly to blame for you an said Captain coming to blows an ultimately deciding it wouldn’t work, he didn’t know you had left your team and your captain as you couldn’t stand to be around him an his “girlfriend” and now called another man Captain a man who paled in comparison a man who if you were being honest scared you half to death.

Luke didn’t know how much weight that word carried.

“No…not at all” you reached out to him giving him your best smile even in the growing darkness of the tent. He angled his body as he hunched over you kissing your neck, his skin smelt of cut grass, cold air and aftershave. It tasted salty as you kissed his shoulder. He slowly edge the tip inside you pushing just halfway in allowing you to adjust around him.

“God it feels so good even with this on…” He edged in further. You could feel him holding back as if he was scared he was going to break you, he was definitely the biggest you had had the full feeling was a new one an you had to angle your hips so he didn’t hit your cervix but even at this pace you were close.

“You can be abit rough you know I don’t mind at all…sir” You kissed under his jaw as you whispered into his ear. Your words sent him wild causing him to buck his hips into yours the sound of his thighs slapping against your backside could probably be heard across the site, but you both didn’t care. Both crying out into the night like wild animals. Both melting together, as you came undone under him the faint smell of cigars and gun oil filled your nose and instead of a mess of dark curls was a short clipped auburn cut, pale grey eyes replaced for dark blue ones. You weren’t looking at Luke you were looking at John. You shut your eyes and kissed John away deciding it wasn’t fair to Luke.

He let out a low grunt as his hips stuttered. He crashed down to your side pulling you tightly to him, his hair falling in front of his face.

He ran his thumb over your lips as you combed your fingers through his dark curly hair pushing it out of his face.

“Where have you been all my life woman?” He kissed the top of your head.

Fighting a never ending war alongside your Captain.

********

“What do you mean sharing the base sir?” Kyle had mixed emotions on one hand he got to see you for a few days on the other he had to see you with a different team, with another Captain.

“Squad 8 are going to be bunking here for a few days a quick stop over before they are relocated to their next housing state” Price avoided eye contact with Kyle, he knew he would give himself away. He was looking forward to seeing you, maybe get a chance to talk with you, but the idea of Mckinley lurking around made his blood pressure rise.

“Well, at least we get Tank for a few days eh boss? Like the good old days” Kyle gave him a weak smile. They both missed you and this was better than nothing.

********

“hahaha ok, ok, you win! I submit!” Crest tapped your leg causing you to release him from the arm bar you had him in.

“Told you didn’t I? Haha even at 6ft 2’ Crest, no man is too big to fall!” You laughed, helping him up from the ground. Crest laughed as you hoisted him up.

“Small but might eh Tank? Got some strength in you girl…Glad your on our side!” He patted you on the back. Dredd threw you your water bottle.

“Think that move will help me bag Ghosty?” She leant on the ropes of the boxing ring, you cocked your eyebrow at her, she was being deadly serious.

“I think it would take more than that to bag Ghost…” You scoffed, but you did imagine how you would grapple him to the ground, he defiantly wouldn’t go down as easy as Crest.

“Imagining how you would do it?”

“…yeh…”

Dredd threw a towel at your head. From the corner of your eye you spotted Mckinley strutting into the gym hall as he got closer the mood changed dramatically as if a dark cloud had rolled in on an otherwise sunny day. The cut was just healing above Crest's eyebrow from where Mckinley had struck him that night. You had never seen a Captain turn on his lieutenant like that in all your years of service, maybe the odd cross word but nothing on that level, you thought of Price and Ghost going to blows like that…

“Not packing up yet are you?” McKinley’s words cut through the room, Dredd flickered her eyes at your hand wraps as if to say ‘start unwrapping them now’ but it was already too late.

“Course not, still have your wraps on Tank…how about it? Let's see if you can knock me on my arse like you did to Crest…come on let's see how well Price trained you?”

Before you could answer he was already in the ring. He was stocky and well built, you had sparred with bigger men and women but none as volatile as him.

“Ok…fair enough…but I’m warning you, Price taught me well” you gave him a playful smirk, a little bit of banter. You regretted it instantly as his grin had dropped into a straight line in the blink of an eye. Dredd looked from you to Mckinley, her expression said it all…

As you readied yourself, you noticed him watching you like a hawk, you just needed to get him on his arse as quickly as possible, take him down, but then wouldn’t that just make him angrier? But you couldn't just let him win?

The first blow to your stomach caused you to double over…the wind knocked from your lungs…

“HEY!! I hadn’t even rung the bell!” Dread was shouting from the side.

“Sorry but she wasn't paying attention…thought I'd bring her back down to earth…no time to be daydreaming out in the field Tank, that’s how you die…No Captain Price here to jump in front of a bullet for you…” His lip curled up as he spoke. Your blood began to boil. He was rilling you up. He wanted you unfocused. Dredd rang the bell.

“I took the bullet for him actually!” You managed to evade his next punch by ducking as you did you reached to lock his leg into a hold to pull him down, but he was one step ahead and his elbow connected with your shoulder blade. You just needed to get him on his back.

“That’s even worse…which shoulder was it…this one?” He shot a blow to your shoulder. The pain ripped through it like toothache. He was pushing you off the edge now.

“No wonder you left…must of gone soft in his old age eh?” He attempted another jab to your shoulder, but you managed to block this one landing a blow to his chest. It seemed to only hype him up further, but you knew he had felt the rage behind it. You took your chance your blows rained in on him, tight and fast but not fast enough his elbow came up again clashing with your skull this time, before you could right yourself another blow to your chest, then a third to your head. He didn’t stop. He had you where he wanted you now. You could hear the bell ringing but he didn’t stop blow after blow you could hear Dredd shouting for him to stop…his final punch was to your face he had seen an opening and went for it. Your lip smashed against your teeth splitting instantly. It rattled your skull.

You reached out with one hand resting it on his forearm the other palm up in surrender…you looked up at him…so close that you could hear his heartbeat. He changed his stance, disarming himself. Mckinley glanced down at your lip, blood from your nose had mingled with that from your lips causing your teeth to be stained dark red. He swiped his thumb along your bottom lip, the salt from his hands causing it to sting.

“Don’t worry…your with me now…I'll toughen you up”

*********

“How long have you been sat here?” Ghost handed Kyle a coffee. It was about 5am, cold and windy, but Kyle had been sat outside waiting for you to arrive.

“Not long actually…they should be arriving soon…where’s the Captain?” Kyle took the coffee gladly. He knew Price was probably hiding in his office using the excuse of paperwork to keep him busy. Ghost lifted his mask up to drink his tea, black no sugar, two teabags.

“He’s hiding in his office… don't blame him to be honest…Mckinley is a cunt wouldn’t be surprised if he nuts him as soon as he claps eyes on him…they go way back…Price was there when he got the nickname The Buthcer…nasty little fucker…” Ghost clocked Kyles's shocked expression.

“An he’s Tank's new Captain? What the fuck?” Kyle pressed his fingers into his eyes. What were you doing?

“We need to talk to her, I don't like this…she doesn’t belong with them…she’s 141 born and bred, Price needs to talk some sense into her…I need to talk some sense into her…Its not right…” Ghost rested his hand on Kyles's shoulder he felt sorry for the lad he really did miss you, If he was being honest Ghost missed you.

“Listen Kyle…she’s made of strong stuff our girl…she’ll be ok you never know she might love being with them…”

*******

Your stomach was in knots, as the helicopter got closer to the base. You knew Kyle would be waiting for you he had text you late last night. Dredd had done her best at treating your lip and covering your black eye and brushed cheekbone, but it was no good you looked busted. Your plan was to tell them you fell…easily done in your line of work. God you hated how you were trying to cover for Mckinley, bu you wanted to avoid as much chaos as possible the next few days. You glanced out the window, you were half a mile out from the base, but you could still make out Kyle in blue and the huge black mass that was Ghost. Your heart jumped in your chest, you hadn’t realised how much you had missed them. Noticing your little smile Dredd squeezed your thigh.

“Kyle is so cute bet he's been waiting since early this morning…He really does wear that mask all the time doesn’t he?” Dredd was now leaning over you to get a better look at Ghost.

“He really does…I’m going to get him to take it off one day…” You both giggled like school girls. Mckinley cleared his throat his boot knocking yours. You exchanged looks with Dredd. You grew impatient as the helicopter descended, already unbuckling your belt, Kyle noticed your squirming in your seat his heart swelling at the site of you, he couldn't hold it in he set off jogging towards the helicopter.

“And there he goes…” Ghost sighed a smile pulling at his mouth.

The landing was taking too long, as soon at it touched the ground you didn’t even wait to be cleared or dismissed by Mckinley, you bolted like a dog off its lead, nearly hitting the deck you legged it towards Kyle jumping up into his open arms. You breathed him in, fresh air, wet tarmac, coffee and lynx body spray you had missed it, he smelt like home.

“Missed me Garrick?” You didn’t even lift your head, instead you held on to him tigher, he did the same.

“Course I did you clown!”

Kyle glanced over at Squad 8, He clocked Mckinley straight away, he was the guy starting through him.

“Come on you two, break it up…” Ghost caught a glimpse of your face. His eyes narrowed.

“What the fuck is that about?” He pulled your face up towards the light. He could feel his blood boiling.

“Kyle put her down…let me see your face…now” you tried to brush him off but he wasn't playing around. Kyle turned his head to look at what the fuss was about. His eyes widened as he saw your cheekbone.

“What the fuck Tank? How did that happen?” Kyle was now holding your face and inspecting your lip.

“I fell over while out on recon, uneven terrain wasn't watching where I was going you know me…” They looked at each other, they didn’t buy it. Ghost looked over at Mckinley, then back at you.

Surely he wasn't that stupid to bring you back damaged, knocked about…Ghost knew Mckinley believed in ‘Tought love’, but was he that arrogant that he wanted to show off his handy work to Price. Ghost sighed.

“Fair enough Kid, come on let's get you inside it's cold.”

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corn-fanfiction · 7 months

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SAVIOUR COMPLEX (PT. 3)

(Pt 2)

Rating: M

TAGS: language/frightening scenes including stalking/hangovers/implied past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader is normal and likes to do normal things/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a cop

"Sure you don't need sunglasses?"

You shield your eyes from the garish sun that punishes you from the window beside you.

"Shut up," you mutter. You're letting the smell of your coffee settle before trying to drink it. Mark, on the other hand, is halfway through his second cup and eating breakfast.

The tinny sounds of the cafe are ringing in your ears and pounding against your skull. You groan.

"I'm fuckin' glad you stopped me when you did," you admit.

"I woulda let you go all night if I wasn't directly overseeing your safety."

"Good to know."

"Aren't you gonna order?"

"Do you want to see me throw up all of yesterday onto this freshly mopped floor? It's a near trick- I use it at parties."

"A simple 'no' woulda sufficed."

"Toast. I need toast."

If you'd had your head up, you would've seen Mark wave over a waiter. He clears his throat and you lift your face from where it rests on your palms.

"Oh. Um, two slices of white toast, please, with butter and jelly."

The waiter nods, says it'll be a couple minutes, then leaves. You don't have it in yourself to lay your head back down.

"Why'd you drag me out here?" You mumble.

"You don't like breakfast?"

You glare at him.

"Alright, fine. Just wanted to let you know that, if all goes well for the next week, you'll be rid of me. Got the update this morning."

You perk up a little. "Does that mean the Jigsaw killer stopped?"

Mark chuckles. "That is proprietary information. All you need to know is that they think you're safe enough to not need me."

You watch him eat. You've always considered it one of the most vulnerable states a person can be in. If someone eats in front of you, they trust you, at least a little. You notice the way his jaw ticks, his hair falling in his face every so often. He really is quite handsome, and in a different timeline you'd probably be attracted to his arrogant personality. But definitely not here. Not now.

The waiter brings your toast and you start it slowly, but soon are consuming it with little thought to your stomach.

"Any big plans for the day?" He asks.

"Well, I don't have work. Probably go running, read, grocery shop. Regular, boring stuff. Why? You wanna do the domestics with me?" You joke. Mark shrugs.

"Hey, sounds to me like looking after you is like a day off. Where do you run?"

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in a way that is, frankly, embarrassing. He looks at you in confusion.

"What?"

You shake yourself out of the stupor.

"The park off 7th. It has a track back in the woods."

"Damn, you're really trying to put yourself in the most vulnerable positions."

You sigh in exasperation. "It's the same shit I've always done-"

"I'm just joking."

"I thought jokes were supposed to be funny," you mutter. Mark deadpans.

"Haha."

True to his word, Hoffman shows up to the walking trail at the park...and he's in running gear. He's in a sleeveless hoodie and basketball shorts. The only thing he's missing is a sweatband.

And you. You nearly piss yourself laughing.

"Holy shit!"

"Thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"Aw, did you get all dolled up for me?" You say between snorts.

"I'm not jogging in a suit," he remarks, now frowning at your comments.

"Are the tags still on it?"

"You know I can leave you out here."

"Then it'd be time to update your resume."

You two begin with a brisk walk that turns to a jog. You go like this for about ten minutes of uninterrupted silence until you come to a pond.

"Hey, I always stop here. Wanna sit?"

Your both out of breath and Mark merely nods as you both plant yourselves on a bench. You take a moment to relish in the warm breeze as it passes over your skin and through the thick pines above.

"Why here?"

Mark's voice breaks you from your reverie.

"It started as a place to go to feel safe. Now it just feels familiar. It's my favorite place besides home."

"You felt unsafe?"

You give him a tight lipped smile. "Haven't we all? Besides. I'm moving on."

It's not untrue. But your words carry a sense of space and time. You have neither.

You're almost disappointed when Mark doesn't do the grocery routine with you. You think of all the opportunities it would give for you to poke fun at him and him do the same to you.

He's nicer than you had expected, for a cop. He can be a pain in the ass, usually is, but he also seems to have your best interest at heart. He's laid back (maybe more than he should be) now that you're not constantly antagonizing him.

All in all, it's growing more bearable.

You even sleep better, knowing that there's someone who's got your back.

You hadn't told them everything. You do like Mark's company, his watchfulness.

You're laying in bed. It's 1 am and you're still awake, but only because you'd finally managed to start a consistent patch on your knitting. The only lighting is the lamps which you know is bad on your eyes, but you like the dimness. It's where you feel at peace.

You don't see it at first. You're looking up to catch a glimpse at the tv, playing some late night crime drama, when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. It's the window at the end of your room.

There's no question or no hesitation. They're eyes. And they're staring right at you.

At first, you don't move, as if it's dinosaur rules. Like those eyes will forget you. Then they blink, and they're gone.

You shoot out of your bed and nab your phone from the nightstand, pressing 3, for Mark's speed dial number. After a few rings at a nail biting pace, he answers.

"Hello?"

You lock your bedroom door and sit with your back to it.

"Someone's outside my apartment."

"What? You sure?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure! He was outside my window. Jesus, Mark, please get here."

"Alright alright, I'm on my way. Call the police too, just to be safe. Make sure your doors are locked."

"Okay. Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Mark? Hurry. Please."

You hang up and clutch the phone to your chest. You debate sprinting to the kitchen for the knife but you can't move. The idea that you may not have locked your front door haunts the back of your mind.

Time is meaningless and empty as you sit. However long it's been, you hear a pounding on your front door. Your bones are solid concrete and don't allow you to move. Eventually, the banging stops.

Then, a face at your window. You scream.

"Y/n!"

It's a muffled sound for the glass but you know the voice isn't the one you fear. Mark's outside. You scramble up, throw open your bedroom door, and unlock the front door. Mark's hands find your shoulders as you hyperventilate.

"Oh my god, Mark."

You're crying. You're sobbing.

"You're alright. You're safe."

No, you were not alright or safe. He had been outside your window. He knows where you live.

A pained sound escapes you and you clutch onto Mark's jacket before falling into him. If you had your wits about you, embarrassment for relying on him so vulnerably would seize you. But instead he guides you inside, closing the door behind you, as you shake with your sobs. He sits you on the couch, then leaves, then returns with a glass of water. But you can't hold it without spilling it everywhere.

"What did he look like?"

What do you say?

"Um...I didn't see him."

Mark's hold on your forearm, barely perceptibly, tightens.

"At all?"

You shake your head and your eyes burn.

"No."

"I was just outside your window. With the lighting available and the surrounding area, it's almost impossible to have not seen him. So, what aren't you telling me?"

You very quickly realize how close you are to him, the way his body cages you against the couch. A man easily twice your size, a cop, with a gun, is towering over you.

You stand and shake out your hands. Mark watches you.

"How long until the cops get here?"

"Any minute. I made another call on the way here."

You slow, look at him.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

His eyes narrow at you.

"I was out on another call. What's your point?"

"Nothing." You shake your head again and hold your arms, pacing back and forth. He stands from the sofa. When he does, you flinch.

At this, he freezes.

"Y/n..."

He takes another step forward. You step back.

"Okay. I understand. But you're safe. You're okay."

You scowl. "I don't fucking feel okay. Right now I'm alone and vulnerable with a cop that I know doesn't play by the book."

"What happened to you wanting me here?"

"I don't know. What happened to you making me feel safe?"

"Feel has nothing to do with it. You're safe right now; I'm doing my job."

You're both still, and you dare not to breathe until you hear the sirens tearing down the street. Mark sighs out his nose and goes through the front door to greet the police. You sit on the couch. Your whole body feels cold.

He has a point. What did happen to that trust? Did it suddenly melt away?

But you know. Your trust has snapped. It was tenuous to begin with. That's not your fault. If he was really good at his job, he should've clocked it by now. You're a textbook case.

Other police come in to get your statements. Someone suggests that Hoffman stay the night, or that you get taken to a safe house, but you insist upon neither. You'd really hate to have a repeat of earlier, but you can't stand to leave right now, nor are you totally comfortable with Hoffman in the house with you. They all decide to have a couple officers post up outside for the remainder of the evening.

"Well," Hoffman huffs at the door. "Let me know if you need anything else. Though I doubt you will."

A small drip of guilt tugs at your gut but you wave it away. You're so tired.

"Right," you say, tapping on the doorframe.

"Just remember. I've done nothing but help you. And I don't appreciate you all but making accusations against me."

Danger pricks at the back of your neck. "You're not making a great care for yourself right now."

Mark inhales, stiffens, then relaxes as though he's made up his mind about something.

"Right. Well, get some sleep. Maybe close your curtains."

You slam the door behind him and lock it. You return to your room and cuddle up into bed, but despite your exhaustion, you can't sleep. And even though you can't think about Hoffman, you take his advice about the curtains. But you can't turn away from the window either. So you stare at the ceiling. Think about tomorrow. You know you'll be called into the station. You know you'll have to face Hoffman.

You can't quite get a read on him. Only hours ago were you having a genuine connection with him. He responded immediately to your call and came to your side. And yet...

He's an intense man; there's no denying it. But if you can't get a grip on it, you'll drown under its weight.

So is it him? Or is it your own mind betraying you? Sabotaging your connection with another man, even as an acquaintance?

Before you know it, the sun has come up. You get a shower and dress as normal. You eat breakfast. You take the call to the station as normal. You leave your apartment, heart sinking when Hoffman's car is absent, and you try to walk to the main road for a cab as normal. But nothing about this is normal because he's seen you and you've seen him.

And you're beginning to think you'll never have a normal day again.

#mark hoffman #saw fanfic #mark hoffman x reader #angst #fanfiction

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fanfic-lover-girl · 3 months

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Harry Potter characters that I like

In response to a Romione fan who thought I hated every HP character and hated everything about the series because I don't stan certain characters and ships, I want to mention here the few characters I like.

For me, I like a character usually if:

they have an interesting personality and background

I feel sorry for how they are generally misunderstood or bashed by fandom (sometimes I take great pleasure in being a contrarian haha) or treated by the author.

their wins feel earned in the narrative and I feel inspired

So here is my list!

Draco Malfoy + Malfoy family

I love Draco so much. I admit that I was drawn in mostly through fanon but as I explored the books more, I really enjoyed his book character a lot. He has a vibrant and entertaining personality and I like how meta he can be sometimes. Every time he proclaims how bad Hagrid is as a teacher or how Hogwarts sucks as a school, I just want to hug him so badly. I also like his parents and their interactions as a family later in the books. Narcissa is my fav mom, no contest. I just think that JKR wasted his potential. Draco is the most developed Slytherin kid and his character should have represented hope for a better future. But of course, JKR only cares about her lions (and Snape who she tried to retcon as a lion too lol) so screw Slytherins. And the NPC houses.

Black family

Gosh, I absolutely ADORE the Black family. The Black family is the most intriguing set of characters JKR ever wrote in HP. The Black family lore, the constellation theme, the dark history, the tragedy. Chef's kiss! Screw making a marauders' prequel!!! Give me a Black Family series! You shouldn't be surprised that Sirius Black is my favourite marauder. Compared to Sirius, James Potter is an utter bore.

Neville Longbottom

I often wish Neville was the chosen one instead of Harry. I think Neville's story is more tragic than Harry's. It must be torture to have your parents alive but practically dead. And Neville just feels more heroic to me. A lot of times, I hate Harry's hero's journey because JKR keeps letting Harry win due to deu ex Machina. It was nice seeing Neville gradually grow into the man he was at the end. And Neville's rage at Bellatrix just felt more visceral compared to Harry's with Moldy Voldy. I just like Neville, he's so sweet and he deserves better friends.

Percy Weasley

On the surface, I don't care much about Percy but I do feel sorry for him. Ron and the twins treated him like trash. His family just had a hate boner for him. Poor Percy. I can vibe with a family black sheep character. I don't like how people paint him as the bad guy for walking out on his family. And I appreciate how distinguished he is as a Weasley. He is the only Weasley member not to bow down and kiss Dumbles' backside like a brainless puppet. It's a shame it backfired on him but I admire his logic.

Luna Lovegood

To be honest, Luna was a nothing character to me until I began reading Druna fanfiction and I realized how adorable her character is in the books. She makes me smile and I like how she used to talk back to the trio in the beginning. So funny when Luna told Harry that people thought Hagrid was a bad teacher lol! I think Luna is the only HP girl I like...also maybe because I really like picturing her with Draco. No shame!

Severus Snape

What a beautiful and tragic character. Like Draco, Snape is such a pleasure to read. The man is pure entertainment in written form. I don't love Snape the way I do Draco, but I like picturing him with a better life. 'Snape drops out of Hogwarts' is one of my favourite AO3 tags. I love how he dedicated his life to good even though life was cruel to him and gave him a bad hand. Everything about Snape is so intriguing and I like learning more about him. Definitely one of JKR's best characters.

Ron Weasley

I hate the golden trio but I find Ron the most tolerable and the most interesting. It's a shame I found myself disliking the guy in the epilogue. People complain about the movies ruining Ron but JKR was ruining Ron in the books too. Ron started out as so intelligent but gradually JKR made him slobbier and dumber. I like how Ron was the common sense guy. Once again, Ron had to be the one to tell Harry what a complete trash disaster Hagrid was. Lord, I hate that man! Shame Hagrid's spiders didn't kill him!!! I wish JKR expanded on Ron's chess ability. Ron showed promise as being a leader of the trio (Lord knows Harry was a disaster) and Ron being strategic would fit with his chess skills...but JKR never followed through. My fellow HP critic, chicory, mentioned this passage:

‘Hmm,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting … So where shall I put you?’

applies more to Ron than Harry and I have to agree with her.

There are also several instances of Ron just being a sweet friend to Harry and Hermione and I wish he had better friends. I don't care what Romione/Hermione fans say. Hermione does not deserve a guy like Ron. Never did and never will. I don't even think Harry deserves Ron either. Ron does so much more for Harry than Harry ever did for him. I would have preferred if the Luna friendship was developed more for Ron. Ron has his infuriating moments but his great moments offset them. Out of the trio, I think Ron is the best character and sometimes I wish he was the protag instead of Harry.

Well, let me end it at 7, the perfect number! I can't fully word why I like or love some of these characters but this is a gist.

Of course, there may be other characters that I enjoy for what they are in the story (the Death Eaters, Dumbledore etc) but I don't care about them enough to mention them. Blessings!

#hp characters i like #ron weasley #draco malfoy #percy weasley #neville longbottom #luna lovegood #malfoy family #black family #sirius black #anti golden trio #anti romione #severus snape #anti jkr #pro draco malfoy #pro ron weasley #anti rubeus hagrid #of course I cant miss a shot at cursing that buffoon #pro snape

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vargaslovinghours · 7 months

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Requestober 2023: Vargas Edition

The playlist has returned for this year! There will be a few in between, but it should be updating at least once a week on either Wednesday or Friday or both - keep an eye out for your req(s)!

I considered a couple different lines for day 1 - there are just so many Narrator lines that could work for Scriabin! Any of the many times where the Narrator is being sadistic, it all just works. Plus, it’s fun to imagine Scriabin trapping Edgar in the same way, just shoops a wall right into his path haha

But in the end I went for one of the tags I left myself on the original TSP/Vargas crossover doodles, it does still live in my head rent-free after all. You can see in the background that those “invisible” tears were intended from the beginning as well :3c

There’s also something funny to me about Scriabin using the word “rubbish” haha ♪ How posh

Edgar, as usual, getting blame for something that was definitely his Narrator, I mean Scriabin’s fault lol

I really wasn’t sure what to do with day 2 at first - I’m too scared to watch any of the SAWs, or look them up on YouTube >~< I tried finding transcripts with stage direction or people describing them in text online but I couldn’t really find anything, I really do appreciate my friend for telling me about one haha. Even with that though, I still had to do a lot of guesswork! Something about wrists, fear, not doing well - Scriabin is very cute hiding behind Edgar but it’s still not very obvious what the theme is, huh?

I was able to find a very brief animation of I think? the trap that had been described to me but even that was a bit much for me :’D I was a very wimp that day! I didn’t even have it in me to draw the trap itself in the sketch! There’s something a bit ominous about not being able to see into the trap completely, only the blood pooling at the bottom ♪ But I’m still happy I went with what I did in the end, though I did have to change Scriabin’s dialogue from fear to accusation - though that tracks for him haha

Day 3 was silly and therefore easy to whip up haha ♪ The angst is done, the blood is done, this leaves only kisses! Any opportunity to use my pencils to make kiss-marks, I will take lol. Clearly this is what the prompt was pointing at! Obviously! Lol

If you look, Jake’s lips are painted pink and Scriabin’s red, and they have each other’s lipstick marks on their faces lol - I am attention to detail when it comes to kisses ♪

I did still end up making an alt even after pretty much decided on the first one, it’s still fun to think about Scriabin interacting with Jake before he gets his own body ♫ He’s so smug lol, at least they’re easy to cover! Ish! Mostly! Probably itch tho lol

Day 5, yaaay some Biblical Edgar <3 I have been out of practice drawing wings lately so they’re basically just Big Shapes here lol, it’s all about blocking out the space they’ll take for when it’s cleaned! I am quite happy with how he turned out digitally, his cute face ♥

Day 7 got a couple passes as well before settling! It’s a theme lol, though there were both kidverse! The prompt mentioned “brothers” but that doesn’t necessarily mean when they were kids - they can be silly and sibling-like even After, they have the range. Still, Edgar pushing him on the swing as a kid was a cute idea so I’m glad I at least scratched it down haha. Why’s he so heavy? He’s dense ♪

The alt was the winner tho! I love how much like a bug Scriabin looks here haha, how could he have possibly seen this coming??

Day 8′s sketch was done outside in the dark actually, stargazing very appropriate! You can kinda see me go back and forth on their clothes in the moment lol, Edgar’s striped shirt visible on his upper arms underneath his long sleeves and I still ended up going with a scarf! I also planned to make their breath clouds but I forgot them in the end, that background took up a lot of my focus lol. Also how come Edgar’s feet turned out better here than in the final version >:P

Gaster! A warmup for Day 9 since it’s been a bit since I’ve drawn him, especially with the cracks in his face! Scriabin is annoying his offscreen so it still totally counts as being Vargas-themed lol

Their poses were a bit subdued initially so I knew I wanted to try again, but at the same time there are a lot of elements here that I liked! Especially their hands, Gaster holding his hands in fists at his sides rather than speaking to Scriabin through sign language, and Scriabin with his flourish-opened palm, inviting ♪

Actual pose skeletons lol, though Gaster’s was a bit top-heavy. It all worked out in the end at least :)

Day 11 was a very fun concept! Turning Scriabin into an Enderman was an especially fun idea if Edgar could figure/find out that he could hide from him using a pumpkin mask, though I’m sure that would make Scriabin mad as well once he found him haha. Just sneeaaak quietly behind him, he’ll never know! Also the pumpkin having Edgar’s glasses, goatee, and scars carved into it haha <3

All the same, I’m glad I went with what I did - Scriabin’s pose is so much more dynamic! Very fun! His hands and his legs, and the way his coat flares out! Plus putting his Ender teeth on display was a lot of fun haha ♪ Poor Edgar can’t catch a break no matter what world he’s in, at least I didn’t actually turn him into a sheep lol

Day 12, yaaaay I finally got to Uncle Jake! So nervous <3 Don’t break the baby, don’t hurt him don’t move too much ahhh! Haha, terribly cute ♥ I do still really love how confident Edgar is here - he’s usually so nervous around Jake, but oh how the tables! Dadgar with a support system <3 His FWB comes to say hi to his son, it’s very wholesome hehe ♪

Day 13 was actually drawn way of out of order, between several of the later days and even day 12 I think lol, it’s so hard to convince my brain to listen to new music haha. It was quite a lot of fun making the text not look like it’s “spoken,” outside of a text bubble hehe, I don’t do that too often! And of course still deeply inspired by his palette challenge, it is too pretty to not pull from every not and again <3

Honestly I initially had no ideas for day 14, and yet this was still the only sketch I ended up with! My earworm at the time came in clutch, honestly do listen to Everything In You it’s such pretty yearning starcrossed song ah <3 All these musical doodles haha ♪ Sweetness sweetness <3

And of course when they’re that close there has to be a kiss! Scriabin is surprised, but how much? :3c Edgar giving Scriabin kisses of his own accord 💖 That theme never really left me either hehe

Day 27, the last Vargas day! Had to get in one Snake Charmer before the end huh haha ♪ It’s too bad my Ladyverse!Naga idea was a bit too long or I would’ve done that, but I’ll never turn down the potential for pretty clothes! And spiders for that matter haha, I went with the Acanthoscurria Geniculata - Brazilian Whiteknee again :) As much as I love Scriabin as a Bold Jumper, tarantulas just have such gorgeous proportions! And of course, I always enjoy drawing Lady!Scriabin, so it was doubly fun to draw her as a spider :)

That’s all of this year’s Vargas sketches! A fun bunch! And it was fun to mix a few others in as well :D

#💟#Doodles #Art #Edgar #Scriabin #Jake #Nny #Todd #Blood #Sketchdump #And there's also a Gaster and a couple AUs hanging around in there as well haha #It was a fun bunch this year! And a bit more equally spread haha I appreciate it :D #It also makes compiling my roundups easier so I doubly appreciate it! Love it when my sketchdumps don't break on me four times lol #For the record this one didn't break even once ♪ Very well behaved haha #As usual I always go extra on Day 1 lol - but even with the extra time I tried to keep things a bit smaller scale this year :3 #I mostly succeeded! Still the occasional bonus or big piece haha #And lots and lots of alts - also the usual haha #But even with that there were still carryovers between everything! A couple of pieces here got my lighting itch - especially the last one #It was technically lazy cell shading but y'know what! It ended up looking cool! I will always take that haha #Anyhow ♪ Since they took up the front there have already been a few Vargas speed draws posted! Take a look for yours! :D #And thanks again to everyone for participating <3 It was a fun year!

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justablah56 · 8 months

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i am open to terrick propaganda

eeehehhehehehe yippee >:] first I will briefly mention checking the terrick ao3 tag , I'm p sure every fucking fic is by either me or icy bcs is just us and terrick against the world <3 ANYWAYS ! literally it all started when I was like haha wouldn't it be kinda funny if Terry and Nick met up again in hell after Terry died and then my brain said yeah but what if they were gay also . so just think abt that for me <3 also just consider , if you will , them being in a relationship pre-betrayal and Terry not wanting to go through with said betrayal but not really being able to stop the others n all that , imagine the angst ,,, also Terry not being that worried abt dying and going to hell bcs he might get to see nicky again ,,,,, also personally my firm belief is that Nicholas in his timeline had the biggest fucking crush on tj and i will die on this hill btw . good little baby narcholas liking bad boy emo teen Terry is literally everything to me ,, OH also consider them dying each other's hair . just consider . I've mentioned it before that my hc is that Glenn Morgan and Nick used to all dye their hair together and Glenn and Nick kept doing it after she died , then Nick helped Terry bleach his hair pre s1 , and then post s1 terry helped Nicky learn again since he couldn't really remember bcs timeline stuff but still wanted his hair dyed and i just love them a lot Oak . also tall ass Terry and short ass Nicky . I rest my case .

#just blahs #terrick #could probably keep talking abt them for hours tbh i literally love them so much #i also have a bit of terrick art if you want to see that 👀#theyre just everything to me #my little guys #thinking abt them always #dndads

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sangre · 10 months

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A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG, with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc.

name: catarina raverre. nicknames: rini from wyll + which the tiefling children from the grove picked up on and call her as well, rina from shadowheart and gale, cat (funny/condescending) from astarion, karlach will enthusiastically call him Raverre!! if not soldier, and lae’zel is trying not to pick up a nickname but settles on an over emphatic ca-TA around act 3. Full-naming is very weird and intimate for her, so of course, she hears it most from the dream visitor in the shell of her ear. tav is the quick and easy introduction he gives to other NPC’s (it's what her brothers called her growing up) and will hear it from just about everyone as well. age: twenty-nine. race: asmodeus tiefling, infernal bloodline on her father’s side, draconic lineage on his mother’s. gender: fluid, he/him & she/her. often dancing the lines to have fun in presentation and feeling with both at once. orientation: bisexual. zodiac: aries. a very strong case for an aries I think. moral alignment: chaotic neutral, though he’s protective of innocence and will go out of his way on select occasions to pay back in the name of karma :wink: (Karma is also the name of the dragon that her lineage comes from). class/subclass: sorcerer - draconic bloodline. (poison dragon) background: guild artisan. interests/hobbies: woodwork and architecture hold his attention in a quiet appreciation kind of way, as in he could watch someone whittle for a long time and enjoy the silence (haha) about it – and traveling to see different kinds of buildings and interior decoration and stuff like that is very compelling, as someone who was raised with a reverence for like... ruins and the history shown in the way places are built. she loves magic. being able to storytell and stuff through that medium is very precious and memorable to him. quite nerdy behind closed doors. demanded to be read to a lot as a baby before falling asleep. LIKES NAPPING! Is sleepypilled. some other misc things he likes are intricate weaponry and gambling (he's freakishly good at catching a cheater/reading people's faces). spoken languages: fluent in common, draconic, infernal, and primordial (in addition to being able to communicate in sign in common) profession: adventurer, mostly. back at home, she follows the raverre family line in serving as a warden for a vestige that comes from the hoard that the dragon from her lineage kept and protected. she has four older brothers and one much younger brother, hence a very no-nonsense approach to bullshit. height: 5’11” colors: deep pale brown, purplish red, toxic slutch green, and fiendlike nauseous pink. fruits: grapefruit, guava, strawberries, pineapple and passionfruit. drinks: iced coffees, iced fruit juices, anything that tastes like radioactive mcdonalds sprite and buzzes and freaks out his tongue. alcoholic beverages: dark honey mead, ginger beer with lime. smokes: no but she DOES BREATHE smoke if she coughs and her temperature is too high. drugs: recreational use if he’s with friends and he gets something fun from an alchemist or druid he trusts. drivers license: can this bitch steer a horse? (Catarina voice) Sure how hard could it be. (NO) (BE CAREFUL) (GET OUT OF THE WAY) (horses get nervous around her. Most animals are okay with her/love her in fact but for some reason I think, to a horse, she has rancid vibes. I think it’s because she stares them in the eyes). ever been arrested: YUP but it did not last long!

TAGGED BY: no one i stole this from one of my old RP blogs ^p^ i wanted to party TAGGING: tagging my bagu gagu fwiends but also fwiends for other ocs! @the-lovely-lady-luck @interstices @reides @fluffy-snow-fox @kirkewrites @roberthouses @jessieleaf @killdragons @cass1x1 @bvckywrites @devilatelier

#just bringing a little indie tumblr magic back to our dashes in 2023 in a manner that brings joy.#i played w the questionnaire a bit to suit my needs so ofc do that too if it suits u :3 #EXCITED TO SEE OTHER BABIES IF ANYONE DOES IT :D #catarina

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wifiwuxians · 7 months

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20 questions writer meme.

tagged by @heyholmesletsgo THANK YOUUU

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

not counting things i'd rather remained anonymous, 21!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

513,621 lol

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mdzs, vaguely tgcf, hotline miami (though mostly past tense) and we'll see about the future

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wei Wuxian's Super Special Super Secret Book Club still reigns supreme with 1229 kudos, and will most likely be my legacy despite it being the second fic i ever wrote for the fandom (i think?)

If You're Reading This, It's Too Late with 513, one would think i'd still be messing around with this AU but i'm happy to leave it where it is and just keep messing around with the crackship

Dawn Chorus, my most precious baby, at 251 by some miracle despite being oc/canon. you guys spoiled me with the love for this one tbh. none of my other xue yang centric works got anywhere near this close and i'm at peace with that because he's bonking my oc in this one and they have a kid.

The Book Club Extras at 232, which is hilarious when compared to the original but at least new readers will see there's more and maybe in the year 2055 i will publish them for fun

Frozen Pond with 156 at the end of the list, written for my friend @petitjams and taking place in a silly AU we made together (wen chao stays winning on here which is very funny)

i'm attributing the popularity of the first two to mostly being centered around super popular characters, because my later stuff is naturally better yet struggling haha

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

always unless they're like just emoji, because i like conversation! though i may also reply with a little heart hehe

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i wouldn't call it angstiest ending, it's bittersweet, but the threads that bind us is my top pick. and it also needs more readers so go read it. your hands and mine has a bit of an 'angsty' ending but only for song lan. xue yang had it coming :p 💖

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

excluding the two above, so far they all have a happy ending, or at least neutral??? i'd say Book Club, though, because that's the massive 'everybody lives!!' silly fixit fic

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope. i hope i didn't just jinx it. i get hate on art and through anon though! woo! (not anymore on here tho thank god)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do and i feel like it sucks so i almost always end up fading to black LMAO my actual explicit stuff remains private... it's like too embarrassing for me. i got judged for it as an 18 year old and 10 years later haven't gotten over it. i like bondage and bdsm though and that seems to crop up in private 😏

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i do on occasion! i love roleplaying them, but the only one i have out there is The Way To His Heart Is Through His Stomach (Oh God Please Don't Eat Me), which mixes mdzs and tgcf characters in a unique setting :3

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge, but i've had art stolen plenty so i wouldn't even be surprised

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few have been translated into russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

NOT YET BUT IT'S IN THE CARDS

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

all time? jeez. somebody tell me why i always freeze up and go blank when asked these simple questions? it's like i forget who the fuck i am. i feel like i should also say songxiao? but they're relatively new so it doesn't seem correct. fuck it. my all time favorite ship is [DATA MISSING OR CORRUPTED-- PLEASE PROCEED TO NEXT QUESTION]

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

haha... (looks at my abandoned hlm fic with the seventh chapter halfway written) haha...

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'd definitely say dialog. it makes sense, since the stuff i'm most used to doing is drawing silly comics. i also like to ping-pong emotions around and feel like i'm pretty good at that too

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

using the same words over and over and feeling like i never write Enough, like everything is always light and never in depth. i don't like making scenes too heavy with padding but i also feel like i need to find a balance

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'll do it only if it's a language i speak!!! this doesn't apply to peppering words like gege and stuff just for funsies. i think the best way to go about it is to just tell the audience what language they're speaking in that moment

19. First fandom you wrote for?

we're gonna have to go back to when i was 10 years old here lol... i think it was tokyo mew mew in terms of stuff i put online (oh god)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

it's hard to pick favorites, but i once again must say the threads that bind us in terms of work i'm most proud of.

i tag whoever sees it, plus @sugarapplebaby because ily

#thank you!#my fic #mdzs #i write fic but overall it doesnt really get read as much #so im always glad to advertise hehe thank you!!#i think people generally just want a lot of the same or like very specific ships so its really hard to break through #BUT I STAY SILLY! i love writing and i LOVE when people enjoy what i do #so thank you all

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eulaliasims · 1 year

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Sims Tag

Thanks for the tag, @kalux-sims!

1. What’s your favourite sims death? Oh, we're going for big ones right off the bat, huh? Uhhh, I'm gonna go with satellite.

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Yes.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? why would you, tho

4. Do you use move objects? I use moveObjects so much, I have a shortcut for it in my userstartup.cheat file.

5. Favorite mod? I'm going to second @deedee-sims and say Community Time. It's really one I consider essential to the way that I play my game.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? Pets!! Which is funny, because I still have to make a conscious effort to actually add pets to my sims' households.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? It's LIV mode and I will die on this hill. no I won't

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Made? Oh no, I'm not sure. These days I mostly play sims who were born in-game. Probably Original Maria or Jackie.

9. Have you made a simself? Ya; in the last version of Middleground, she was actually a townie.

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? Bookworm, cat person, loves the outdoors, neurotic, vegetarian

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? I don't like any of those ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

12. Favorite EA hair? Uhhh, the short Season hair with the little half ponytail.

13. Favorite life stage? Adult? idk!

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Both; sometimes I like one more than the other, but it's pretty even.

15. Are you a CC creator? Weirdly, I think I have to say yes to this question now. Pretty much just defaults and the odd recolor. I do retextures sometimes, but I have to be in the right mood for it. :p

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? Yes? But I realize I'm not the most vocal/active person, and I'm definitely not on any of the discords around because I have ~~anxiety~~.

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) *gestures at blog* is it even a contest?

18. Do you have any sims merch? no

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? noooooooooo

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? It's definitely gotten a lot more maxis-match. More detailed too, I think.

21. What’s your Origin ID? haha, like I remember that.

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? Too many to name!

23. How long have you had a simblr? *checks archive* At least nine years; I know I lurked a bit before posting, so call it ten even?

24. How do you edit your pictures? Photoshop. I have a crop & resize action that sharpens them very slightly afterward, and then my base lighting action simply boosts the shadows and contrast a bit; I have a copy of that but with brightening added for dim pictures. For posed, "fancy" pictures, I will edit them individually to get whatever effect I want.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? Space EP, space EP! I know we're not actually getting new EPs for TS2, but I can dream.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? hmmm. Seasons, I think. Love me some gardening and rain.

Tagging @kayleigh-83, @plumbtales, @moocha-muses, @ofmdee, @sushigal007

#tag game #meme

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andrevasims · 1 year

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Sims Tag

Tagged by @ho3sferatu! Thanks ^_^

Readmore’d cause it gets a bit long :P

1. What’s your favourite sims death?

Probably fright, cause the animation is so funny like they have time to pause and check their pulse before dropping dead

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

I can tell this is aimed at TS4 haha I had to google Alpha CC to check I knew what it meant - So semi-realistic? I mean obviously I lean towards Maxis Match, but if I like how something looks I’ll use it even if it’s not from the same style.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight?

No, that actually happened to Klothilde because she kept eating fish and it takes so long for them to eat fish that she got fat after eating it once lol - But TS2 fat meshes aren’t even really fat, so it doesn’t make much difference to me heh

4. Do you use move objects?

Only for placing deco things, cause I don’t want to end up placing a chair or something that’s actually inaccessible and not find out until after I’ve built everything else around where I placed it

5. Favorite mod?

No Red Pause Lines, cause it’s 500x more annoying if I have to crop that out every time I take a screenshot

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got?

University, I pretty much got all the TS2 stuff as it came out heh

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing?

aLIVE, but I think about it more like how a TV show says “We’re live” or something since that’s where the game actually progresses in time

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

Cirrus! There’s some close seconds, but Cirrus actually has history in my game versus just being a face I liked, and the way her parents’ genetics created the little side smirk she has that I don’t think I could recreate in CAS

9. Have you made a simself?

I did when I was 13 - I was exactly at that age where child sims felt too young to represent myself, but teen sims felt too old. I went with a child sim just for the proportions lol but yeah that was the last time I was interested in making a simself.

10. What sim traits do you give yourself?

Well to keep it TS2 themed, I think it’d be something like this:

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Um black? That’s always the default color I pick when doing any sort of dress up game

12. Favorite EA hair?

fhairshorttuckin:

It’s the only hair I’ve never fully replaced with a default, I just do a texture default

13. Favorite life stage?

Adult I guess, they just have the most stuff available to do

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

Both, I like building but I like to play the lots I build. And when I’m playing, I think of what kind of builds would be fun to play, and so the gameplay also inspires my building.

15. Are you a CC creator?

Kind of? I’ve made clothing recolors, makeup, hair recolors, etc. but I haven’t done anything besides sharing lots/sims in a while.

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad?

Not particularly, I have mutuals that I always like seeing on my dash/activity but I’m not the most talkative person on tumblr lol

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4)

2 of course ^_^

18. Do you have any sims merch?

No? lol

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims?

Technically yeah, it’s my “personal” YT account but 90% of my videos are of The Sims.

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing?

I used to do more semi-realistic CC, just based on what I’d accumulated and liked the look of at the time. I still have a lot of that CC in my Downloads, I just don’t use it as often anymore as more recently downloaded Maxis match stuff.

21. What’s your Origin ID?

idk, I think I have one but I’ve never shared anything for TS4 so it’s kinda useless lol

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Ooh that’s a tough one, @platinumaspiration comes to mind cause I really love how bright/colorful a lot of their CC is and I like a lot of the clothing/hair styles :)

23. How long have you had a simblr?

2012.............. lol

Here is the 1st post I ever made on here, it’s for TS3 and has way more straightness than my game has had in years lmao

24. How do you edit your pictures?

I explained it here sort of a few years ago, but I have a newer version of Photoscape and I don’t have access to Photoshop anymore. I still do the highlight/shadow tweaking stuff, but I use Photoscape to do that now.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next?

Well obviously that’s not a question for TS2 lol but something that both TS3 and TS4 have that would’ve been cool in TS2 is careers that you can actually play/interact with instead of the sim disappearing for 8 hours.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far?

Nightlife, I love everything about the themes/aesthetic/gameplay, it has objects/features I use more than any other EP to this day, it’s just exactly my style.

Tagging: @krabbysims @potentialfate-sims @aondaneedles @simmer-until-tender! Feel free to ignore if you’ve done it already haha

#ask meme #tag meme

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xbunny-k · 2 years

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The Actor & I: PART SEVEN – Is this our thing?

This is part SEVEN of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), mild language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpastiesies @its-funny-til-its-not @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

When my alarm goes off a few hours later, somehow, I’m not tired. I feel excited to see what the day brings. I go about my morning routine and get to the office a bit early. As I’m typing an email, my phone buzzes with a new text from an unsaved number. Damn, I need to save his number…wait Austin is texting me already… I smile to myself.

“How are you doing this morning? I’m tireddddd”

He’s asking me how I am??? AH. Ana calm down, it’s fine. He’s just being friendly. This is a work friendship.

“I actually woke up somehow not exhausted, but I’m waiting on it to hit me, hah. It’s funny I stayed up talking to you and now I’m working on things about you.”

I send the text, smile at my phone and put it down to get back to my email when my phone goes off with another text notification.

“Sounds like you’re always gonna have me on the mind :P what are you working on?”

I need to save his number…gonna save it as something other than his name. Hmmm… Mr. Presley

“Well Mr. Presley, I’m currently working on a list of available Elvis reels the studio has available to screen for you.”

As I hit send on the text, I worry maybe that was a bit too flirty? Am I crossing a line? I’m just being friendly, but maybe that was a bit much. Ana, this is your job and it’s still your first week.

My phone buzzes within minutes and my worrying turns to panic. What if he’s uncomfortable? What if he complains to my boss? What if I lose my job? Ana, you need to tone it down.

“Oh man!! Well that woke me right up. Maybe enough energy to get out of bed. If you’re free, I can call you tonight so we can discuss what footage is available before we meet up next week. I’d love to see anything as soon as possible if it’s footage I wouldn’t have access to from home.”

Why are my cheeks on FIRE? Ana, he just wants to call to discuss work… because y’all are work colleagues. Get it together and stop blushing. As I pull myself together, my phone buzzes with another text.

“That is if you want to use your free time to talk to me about work things…even though I guess I might just be work to you in general haha.”

Does he mean that in a way that maybe he doesn’t think of talking to me as work? Or… Ana, you’re just reading into it, stop. I pick up my phone to text back but stop to think of the best way to respond. I do want to assure him this is work, but that I also don’t think of talking to him as just work… I also can’t come across as flirtatious…this IS work, Ana.

“Talking to you never feels like work haha. Yeah, I’ll be free to discuss whenever! Workdays I usually don’t do anything after.”

I hit send thinking the message sounds friendly, but still professional. I get back to work after setting my phone to “Do Not Disturb” to avoid any distractions. And by distractions, I do mean Austin. While he is part of my job, I have a lot of tasks to complete that don’t involve me worrying if I’m flirting or not.

When I check the clock next, it’s almost 7:00 PM and I decide to get up to go let Alison know I’m going to head out, but she is headed out of her office towards the door. She stops by my desk making a comment about how she’s late for a dinner and we should head out. I follow her lead and hurry out to my car.

I head to the gym in my apartment building when I get home and hurry home to shower and make some dinner. When I lay on the couch to eat my dinner, I realize my phone is still on the “Do Not Disturb” setting. When I turn it off and look at my texts, I have…so many…unread messages. Mostly from my best friend, Kelsey, a few from my mom and then…three from Mr. Presley.

While I should open my mom’s messages or my best friend’s messages first, I quickly click on Austin’s thread to read the three texts he sent me while I was off the grid for a few hours.

“I’m glad you feel the same way. Talking to you feels like the opposite of work haha. I’ll text you later to see how your evening is going so I can give you a ring.”

“Does give you a ring make me sound 55 years old? I swear I’ve never said that in my life…I’m trying to sound professional over here.”

“How does 9 sound for me to “give you a ring?” Haha now I’m never gonna stop saying it.”

Why am I laughing so hard at these texts? I need a drink. I’m going crazy. This guy has too much charisma on top of good looks. This is dangerous. He’s technically your superior, Ana. Get a grip.

I get up to get myself a glass of wine when I realize I didn’t even text Austin back. I look at the time and it’s already 8:45. I run back to my phone on the couch and immediately start texting Austin back.

“Sorry I was MIA, had to put my work focus face on :P I know now it’s so late, but honestly whenever works when you’re ready to give me a ring, Mr. Presley”

As soon as I hit send, I lay back on the couch and it hits me how tired I am. I ran all day on caffeine and adrenaline, but now I’m just tired from the lack of sleep and the emotional highs of the last two days. I decide to take my wine to bed knowing this is a terrible idea as I may fall asleep without getting ready for bed. As I lay down in bed and dim the lights from my phone, I get a phone call.

“Hello Mr. Presley,” I giggle as I answer Austin’s call.

“Well, hello there Ana,” he chuckles back at me. “That was quite a greeting.”

“I feel better hearing you say that since I fell off my texting game today. Let me get my laptop so I can pull up this list for us to go through,” I say as I get out of bed.

“How was your day? Busy thinking about me,” Austin teases back. I giggle and before I Can say anything he cuts me off, “That giggle is going to get you in trouble one day.”

What does that mean! Why can’t I stop blushing? Wow, he’s going to think I’m weird just not responding.

“We’ll see if your threats hold up in person,” I giggle back. “Okay, I have my laptop, so do you want to start with movies, auditions for movies, performances or TV footage?”

That’s good, keep it professional, but friendly. You got this, Ana.

We spend the next few hours going through the footage list and noting what Austin would need to watch at a Warner Brothers screening room versus what he could take home to watch. We map out a loose schedule of what he plans on watching and when. Eventually, I cut him off midsentence, “Sorry, my laptop is about to die, let me get up and go to my charger. It doesn’t reach my bed.”

“Oh, you’re working from bed, must be nice,” he jokes. I immediately giggle back, “well my new boss keeps me working late so it’s the only way.”

Austin laughs pretty hard back, “Ana, I was laughing, but it’s almost 2:30 AM. I can’t keep you up super late two nights in a row. I should let you go.” I look at my laptop and realize the time, he’s right. I forgot how tired I was as soon as he called. Talking with him is just so easy…

“Is this our thing? Talking until we realize I have to be at work super early in the morning,” I joke back, and he laughs. His laugh is so warm, I hope he’s laughing with me and not at me…

“I think it’s going to be a thing for the next few months… maybe even years, Ana,” Austin says back sweetly, but firmly. He wants to talk to me late at night…for months? Years? Ana, for WORK. You’re WORKING together.

“Anything to help you be the best Elvis I know you can be. In the morning, I’ll send you all the notes alongside all the footage we went over. When we meet next week, we can start planning firm dates for the order you want to start watching this all in,” I firmly say back, but hoping he knows I’m over the moon happy that he plans on continuing our thing of late-night calls.

“Ana, I’m so grateful to have you as my partner in this. I already feel so much more at ease even though I’m still so nervous,” Austin says back softly. I feel the sincerity in his voice. It’s so comforting talking to him. I thought this last night, but it really feels like I’ve known him for years.

“Me too, Aus. It’s crazy I get to work with you on this amazing role, like I can’t believe it. I feel like you deserve someone more qualified than me…to be honest,” I say back bashfully. As soon as I say it, I wish I could take it back. The wine and lying-in bed while on the phone has put me too at ease.

I hear him sigh and I open my mouth to apologize as Austin says, “I’m gonna use your full name, but Anastasia, don’t doubt yourself. There’s a reason you were given this job and it’s because people believe in you, myself included. You’ve had this job two days and you’ve already done so much to help me when I didn’t even ask, you just did it all.” I hear him take a big breath and he quietly says, “I really mean it, I’m so grateful it’s you in this position and not someone else, Anastasia.”

If anyone else says Anastasia, I get so irritated, but Austin saying it… why do I like it?

“Aus, I’m gonna let the full name slide, because thank you. I needed to hear that,” I softly say back. I’m completely laying down and a bit emotional hearing this as I’ve had some imposter syndrome the last day working on something so exciting, something that’s been a dream for years.

“Ana are you falling asleep,” Austin whispers into the phone. I giggle, “maybe…”

He laughs and I swear I can hear him smile. “Anastasia, I’m gonna let you go to sleep so you can get through work tomorrow.” I smile to myself and honestly, feel a little sad. I don’t want to get off the phone with him. I wish we could just talk all night.

“Okay, fineeee. But you better be going to sleep too,” I joke back to him. He laughs and it makes my whole body feel on fire. “I’m not sure I’m gonna even get my phone on the charger I’m so tired. It didn’t hit me until now for some reason.”

“Me too, it just hit me and now I feel I’ve never been sleepier,” I laugh back. I feel like we’re both playing this “no you hang up” game and I’m not sure I’ve ever tried to stay on the phone like this. Austin giggles back, “Okay, I’m gonna text you in the morning to make sure you got up and got to work, Ana. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Aus,” I say softly and hang up. My god, I think I’m in trouble…

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