#jfc its longer than i expected | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiouj · 7 years

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i can’t believe i’m doing this

@potato-fan-girl managed to convince me to post my writing?? why do i let you talk me in to these things i hate u

ps @taylor-tut i finally wrote the thing

sick boy lance and some fluff under the cut

Lance held his head in his hands as it pounded, eyes squeezed shut while the alarm blared in his ears. He knew he should be getting up, getting his armor on, but he was having a hard time even keeping his eyes open with the headache he was sporting, let alone get up and actually move. After a few more rings of the alarm he finally managed to get himself up from his sheets and onto unsteady legs, tugging his armor on as quickly as he could while his body protested. He’d only been on his feet for a few minutes, yet every muscle in him ached for rest and relaxation, begged him to just lay back down.

‘No, I have to go down to the deck.’ He reminds himself, tugging on his helmet before sliding open his door and getting himself down to where the others were waiting for his presence in a half jogging manner. He only slowed once the rest of the team came into view, the lights bright in his eyes and making him wince in pain. “Nice of you to finally join us, sleeping beauty.” Keith snickers, earning a reprimanding glare from Shiro before they turned back to Allura to get the necessary information as to why the alarm went off. “Indeed. Lance, that was much too slow. Had that been an actual alarm, there would be some serious issues.”

“Lo siento, princessa.” He murmurs, feeling the way his brain seemed to throb behind his eyes with each word he spoke and sound he heard. “I have a really bad, uh.. Quiznak, what’s the word…” He felt his mind blanking as he tried to search for the proper term, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily before it finally came to him. “Headache, right, that’s it. My head hurts.”

He noticed Hunk and Shiro giving him looks of concern at the short lapse in memory, to which he returned a weak smile. More than anything he wanted to just go lay down and sleep it off, but he was sure he wasn’t the only person who’d had a headache before on this ship, so he elected to just push through it and get whatever they were doing done.

Allura didn’t pay any mind to the moment of forgetfulness, however, and merely nodded in response to his apology. “Alright, well.. Don’t let it happen again, it’s much less than okay.” She warns before turning to address the entirety of the group. “Today I’m sending you on a small and short practice mission. I’ve set up numerous bots down on the uninhabited planet below. You’ll be treating it like prison break mission, and trying to get all of the bots in the cage free without too much damage. Every prisoner who gets injured or dies in your hands is one punishment or penalty activity.” She explains carefully, pulling up what seemed to be satellite images– or rather, a video feed of the floating hunk of dirt where they would be practicing. “I’ll be watching you all from above, however I will not interfere unless absolutely necessary. I’m sure you all can handle a few bots each, yes?”

Each word Allura spoke felt like a stab to Lance’s head, each syllable twisting the knife around and making the pain worsen. By the time she had finished her explanation his headache had turned into a full blown migraine, pounding against the inside of his skull. No amount of caffeine would help at this point, though he didn’t have time to down a few cups of coffee anyways, or the means to use any of his normal methods. ‘Luckily it’s only a headache,’ He thought to himself as the group headed down to the hangars. 'If it was anything more, I don’t think I would be able to handle it.’

Perhaps he spoke too soon.

—

As they flew out in some sort of formation Lance could feel each twist and turn in the pit of his stomach, nausea bubbling up as it seemed to do flips every time his lion did. A small, acidic burp escaped him, burning the back of his throat and making his already weak stomach feel even weaker. The little he had eaten before they headed out and the dinner from the night before seemed to be threatening to come up all at once, forcing him to slow a bit as they were coming in to land on the planet.

“Hey Lance, you okay buddy?” Hunk’s voice came through the comm, clearly laced with concern for his friend as he saw the way the Cuban’s normally sun kissed face seemed to pale, and yet flush all at once. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should head back to the castle?” He suggested after a momentary pause, only growing more concerned with Lance’s slow response time.

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine.” Lance waved the suggestion to return to the Castle off almost immediately once Hunk’s words had registered in his aching head, giving him a smile through the screen as they landed. “It’s just my head, I can deal with it.” It wasn’t a total lie, per se– though it wasn’t just his head, he could handle it just fine. He didn’t want to bother anyone with whining about feeling bad or anything, and a headache wasn’t anything to act childishly over! 'WWKD, what would Keith do?… He’d probably just work through it, right? Hell, he’d probably feel better after a workout since all he ever does is fight and train.’ Lance gently snickers to himself at this thought as he grabs his bayard and heads out of Blue to meet the others on the ground, managing to not upheave the entirety of his stomach onto the compact dirt beneath his feet.

“Alright. The cage seems to be in the center of that crudely built base.” Shiro explains once the team had gathered around him, bayards in hand and scowls on their faces for having to go on such a dumb mission. No one expressed this annoyance, however, and opted instead to just listen to Shiro’s spiel of the plan.

Lance, however, could barely focus on the task at hand while his heartbeat seemed to thrum wildly in his skull, blood rushing against his ears while his temples throbbed. His eyes squeezed shut momentarily as he bit back a groan of pain, trying his hardest to just focus, focus, focus–

“–nce? Lance, buddy?” Pidge’s voice rang through his muddled thoughts as clear as a bell, drawing him out of his mind. His fists released from their clenched forms, nails having been dug into his palms to try and quell some of the other pains in his body. “Hi, yeah, sorry, I’m listening.” He managed to rasp out, the words feeling like they clawed their way out of his throat. Since when had his voice gotten that bad?

Shiro shared a concerned glance with Keith and made note that Lance hadn’t tried to give himself any excuses for the zoned out expression he had been sporting just moments before. He then also took note of Lance’s features, paler than his usual tanned complexion, seemingly dull instead of warm, and his eyes had a glassy look to them. This was all extremely worrying, but Lance had only complained of a headache, so he assumed he was just overreacting like a mom. Then Shiro heard Lance’s voice and felt his worry return tenfold.

Lance, on the other hand, seemed to brush off the scratchiness of his voice and just laugh about it, clearing his throat after a moment. “Well, alright. Then me, Keith and Pidge will head in. You two hang back and pick off bots from a distance.” Shiro nods, heading to the makeshift bot base stealthily with the green and red paladins in pursuit. Lance merely nodded and allowed his bayard to form in his hand, feeling the hefty weight of the weapon tug against his arm. Hunk eyed the tanned boy cautiously as he set himself in a good position to take shots at the now swarming bots.

“Good job, paladins.” Allura hisses sarcastically in their ears, watching from above. “You’ve already tripped the alarm and alerted them. This was supposed to be a stealth mission.” Lance simply rolled his eyes at this, which then caused a sudden dizzy spell to come over him, legs going weak and forcing him to cling gently to the rock he stood by. “Lance, are you feeling okay?” Hunk asks, concern clear on his face along with his nervousness.

Lance turned his head to speak but shut his mouth when dark spots began to swirl in his vision, head swimming as he tried to force out a response. He felt his weapon slip from his fingers and clatter to the ground as he stumbled slightly against the rock, only increasing Hunk’s alarm. “Lance? Lance, buddy, talk to me..! Are you alright? What do you need?”

The Cuban felt extremely woozy as he stood on trembling legs, grip on the rock loosening as he realized he wouldn’t be able to make it through this without passing out in some capacity. He took a few shaky steps from the rock to prevent himself from hitting it before turning back to Hunk, a weak smile on his face– or was it a grimace? He couldn’t really tell.

“I don’t feel so good.. I’m really… Mareado…” He managed to choke out to his best friend before his gorgeous blue eyes rolled back into white and his body fell limp to the dirt, black overtaking his sight. The last thing he heard was Hunk calling out for him to stay awake before he completely passed out.

“Lance? Lance?! Stay awake, buddy, you can’t sleep right now. Hey, come on, wake up.. Lance, th-this isn’t funny…” He kneeled down to try and rouse the boy, his shaking and moving of his limp shoulders seeming to do nothing. By this point he was scared, really scared, and he quickly got onto the comms. “Uh, guys? Something’s wrong with Lance– I-I can’t– He won’t wake up, I don’t–”

Shiro heard Hunk’s panicked rambling in his ear and felt his heart drop in his chest, fear taking over as he mentally punched himself for letting the mission continue as it had when Lance was so clearly ill. He shouldn’t have ignored the signs like that, and just told Allura that they couldn’t do the mission, but… Lance seemed okay, and he seemed to want to push himself through whatever he was suffering.

“Hunk, stay calm, what happened?” He replies after a moment, unable to prevent the shake in his words as he starts to run back out to them with the 'prisoner’ bots and the other paladins in tow. “Did he get hit or anything?”

There was a moment of radio silence before Hunk came crackling back on, voice still sounding panicked, though less so, finally responding to the black paladin’s question. “N-No, he seems to be fine..” He mumbles into his comm as he carefully cradles Lance closer to his body in the most protective way possible.

“Alright, just hold on, we’ll be there soon.” Shiro orders, appearing a few minutes later with a worried Pidge and Keith in tow. “How is he? Has he woken up at all?” He questions, kneeling down on the other side of the still unconscious boy and carefully pulling off his helmet. Shiro hisses as his fingers brush against the back of his neck, feeling heat coming off of him in waves. “No, not at all. He’s been out since he dropped.”

Lance’s face was flush with heat, sweat beading up on his forehead while his body trembled with shivers, causing his features to contort slightly in discomfort, which only heightened Shiro’s concern. Quietly he pressed his hand back against his neck, brows knitting together. “He’s on fire.. His fever is really bad. We gotta get him back to the Castle. Allura,” He calls out to the Altean who was stationed above them, just watching silently. “Lance is sick. We’re coming back up.”

“Alright, I’ll let Coran know. We’ll prepare him some medicine. What are his symptoms?” She questions as Shiro carefully scoops Lance into his arms and brings him into the Black lion while Red and Yellow carry Blue back to the Castle ship. Shiro waited until he had the Cuban settled in his lap and he was on the way before replying. “He’s feverish, he seems to have a sore throat, and–”

As if on cue Lance began to cough wetly, bringing himself back to consciousness as he tried to loosen whatever was trapped in his lungs. “Shiro..? Did we free them?” He croaks, earning a sympathetic look from Shiro and a small smile. “Of course. And we couldn’t have done it without you.” He murmurs in response to Lance’s question, gently patting his back and frowning at the heat. How had he gotten this bad without anyone noticing?

As soon as they all landed in their hangars Shiro helped Lance out, one arm around his waist to support his weight while the other’s arm lay around his shoulders. He managed to help him stagger to the makeshift living room and lay him down on the couch while the team gathered pillows and blankets. “Shiro….” He murmurs, looking up at the older paladin with a weak smile. “I feel like shit.”

Shiro smiles gently at this and shakes his head a bit, patting his head as the others finally return and they start gathering on the couch with Lance, snuggling up to him beneath blankets and turning on a movie. “We’ll make sure to get you feeling like your old self soon, don’t you worry.”

“Feel better soon, okay?” Pidge chimes from next to him, looking up at him and tilting her head a little. “And next time don’t try to train while sick, you idiot! You worried us all!”

“Gracias, guys… You’re the best.”

#ave writes #i apologise in advance #sickfic #lance #lance mcclain #voltron #basically when he gets sick he cant remember english words #dumb stuff #jfc its longer than i expected

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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Sweeter than Strawberries | Jungkook

→ summary: at euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. when you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for jeon jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

→ genre: bakery!au, s2l, fluff → warnings: none unless you count the fact that i’m writing shy!jungkook again :^D, we love mutual pining in this house ex dee → words: 4.5K → a/n: this was commissioned by @ihatemathanal!! i was super stoked to write this bc it’s really cute and sometimes it’s nice to just write happy fluffy things every once in a while (aka zee is turning into a fluff writer jfc) it got a lil longer than it was supposed to, but that’s bc i got carried away lol anyway i hope you guys enjoy!! (ps: this also works for the bgw bingo so... tyg for s2l fics!! let’s get it!!)

For the most part, the beginning of autumn is usually your favorite time of the year. When the tree leaves begin to yellow and the air gains a significantly colder bite, this signifies the end of pit stains and sweaty thighs and the start of sweater paws and chapped lips. Above all, you are most excited, of course, for an excuse to gorge yourself on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, paired with delicious mountains of warm gooey brownies.

For the most part, these are all things that often get you excited for the coming chill. What you do not think to remember, however, is that while these seasonal changes bring more good than bad, there still remains a little snag: a small oversight, if you will. As businesses all over the world begin the annual transition to the colder months, so does your favorite bakery across the street from your university. After all, summer ingredients grow scarcer as the year nears its end, so it’s understandable for bakeries to switch up their menu to keep up with both the supply and demand.

What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, long story short—

Your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake is about to get phased out. No, scratch that—it’s already been phased out, right from under your very nose, no less!

You shouldn’t have been surprised, really. You have always known it was a specialty drink; your best friend had even been the one to introduce it to you just near the end of your summer classes:

“This is Euphoria Bakery,” Namjoon had said with a smile, waving cheerily at the two boys manning the till. You heard him chuckle in amusement when your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, staring longingly at the sweet treats and baked goods lining the display case.

Namjoon had stolen your attention away, however, when he pointed to the chalkboard menu on the wall. As it turned out, the bakery also doubled as a cafe, serving the usual coffees and teas while also making the occasional specialty drink for different seasons or holidays. The chalkboard was decorated beautifully, the menu items written out in neat cursive with tiny little doodles littering its margins. On one of the boards, there was a new drink item being advertised in bold pink letters—a great summer treat!—or so it said.

“Jungkook-ssi, can you get me and Y/N a strawberry shortcake milkshake? Extra whipped cream for me, please!” Namjoon called out to one of the boys, startling the younger of the two. The boy, Jungkook, must have been busy fiddling with the cash register that he hadn’t noticed your arrival.

“N-Namjoon-hyung? Sorry, I was just busy counting the money—” Jungkook stopped short in his speech, his tongue getting caught in his mouth when his eyes landed directly on you. He had made a strangled sound, like he had swallowed his spit too quickly and was struggling to regain his composure. “H-Hello?”

You realized belatedly that he must have been greeting you, as you had been distracted by his fidgetiness. His nervousness was cute, if a little bit contagious; you couldn’t help feeling anxious too, like your heart was missing every other beat, even though you had no reason to be. “Hello! My name is Y/N. It’s my first time coming here, but Namjoon says your new summer menu item is really good? I wanted to try it out for myself.”

Jungkook nodded, still staring wide-eyed at you as if in a trance. You expected him to start... well. You weren’t an expert on how bakeries or cafes are run, but you were pretty sure he should’ve started doing something after you had spoken, perhaps ring up your order on the register, or start working on your drinks. Instead, he’s still frozen in place, like he’d somehow short-circuited within the last two minutes.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed his odd behavior because the man working with him suddenly pushed Jungkook to the side, a brief smirk flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced by a more subdued, professional smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s usually my best baker, but sometimes he can get a little... distracted when he’s confronted with sweet things,” the man said nonchalantly, but it seemed that his innocent-sounding comment had embarrassed Jungkook greatly.

“Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook whined, stomping his foot not unlike a bunny. If you squinted a little bit, you could definitely see the resemblance.

Namjoon, who had been quietly watching everything unfold, chose that moment to pipe up. “Oh, I see. I didn’t know you had a type, but after thinking about it—” Namjoon shot a surreptitious glance at you, before turning back to Jungkook with a teasing grin, “—I can definitely see why.”

At the time, you had no idea what was going on, mostly confused as to why Jungkook had suddenly become so red-faced while Namjoon and Jimin giggled like a couple of high school girls. It seemed like you were somehow the main reason for his embarrassment, so you were quick to poke Namjoon in the stomach, effectively silencing him.

“Hey! Stop teasing the poor boy. He’s just being nice,” you said, pointing a soft smile back at Jungkook. “Sorry about him. I’m sure you’re an excellent baker, judging from how wonderful and cute all these cakes on the display look.” Somehow, your praise had only made Jungkook’s cheeks brighten even further. He cleared his throat as if to say something in response, before changing his mind and scuttling away to the back room instead.

“I’m going to start making your milkshake! D-don’t mind me!” He called out from behind the door, causing Jimin to finally break down into raucous giggles, nearly doubling over from his own mirth.

“Aish, that kid. He never learns, huh…” Jimin sighed, but the smile on his face is kind—the sort of fond look an older brother might have for his kid brother. He turned back to you and Namjoon with that lingering softness as he rang the two of you up, before chatting idly with you as you waited for Jungkook to finish making your drinks.

“I’ve never seen you around, Y/N-ssi. Jungkook—sorry, I meant I definitely would’ve noticed you if I did. You go to the same university as Namjoon-ssi, right?” Jimin asked, flipping a pen between his fingers with incredible dexterity. You were slightly distracted by that, faintly jealous of how his short fingers could somehow manage such a feat.

“I—yeah, I do. I’m assuming you’re also a student?”

“Yep. I actually met Namjoon-ssi when we took that one music theory class together. I was handing out flyers for this bakery after class and he happened to be one of the first people to actually come,” he said, winking at Namjoon. You watched with much interest when your friend turned a faint shade of pink, his hand coming up behind his neck—a signature tick of his whenever he was feeling shy or nervous.

“I-It was nothing… I mean, your seasonal drinks are always so good! I remember your old snowman-shaped donuts with the raspberry filling? I still dream of it sometimes,” Namjoon sighed, eyes going glassy for a moment.

Jimin laughed, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents. “Oh, stop it! I remember how you’d come here even after we stopped serving that donut and you’d beg us to make them again.”

“And yet you never did, even though I know you have the ingredients to make them,” Namjoon pouted, but there’s endearment dancing in his expression.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never pegged Namjoon as a sweet-tooth guy, so this is honestly all a very big surprise to me. I should be pumped for this milkshake then, huh? Hopefully, you aren’t just hyping it up and I’ll end up disappointed.”

Before either Namjoon or Jimin could retort, Jungkook had reappeared from the back room with two large cups in hand, almost tripping over his untied apron string but managing to get to the counter in one piece.

“Here you go. I hope you won’t be disappointed when you try it,” he said, gaze averted downwards when he hands you your cup. Your fingers grazed each other for a second, nearly causing both of you to drop the drink like it was on fire.

“S-sorry,” you laughed it off, feeling your ears get a little red from your blunder. You pointedly ignored Namjoon’s arched brow, no doubt enjoying your sudden shyness. Without waiting for him to get his own cup, you casually tear off the straw wrapper and take your first sip of the drink.

“So?” Jungkook asked after a while, watching with bated breath as you take a good gulp of the milkshake. “How is it? Is it worth the hype?” You don’t speak for a moment, further aggravating the two bakers as you carefully chewed on the bits of strawberry in the drink.

“This—” you said, speaking slowly for increased dramatic effect. You could hear Namjoon groan beside you, used to your need for unnecessary anticipation. Even as you paused for a moment longer, you could already feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to completely hide your giddiness. “—is fantastic. Show-stopping. Best thing since sliced bread! I could live on this shit alone.”

Jungkook released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief as you began to completely devour the treat in mere minutes. “I’m… really glad you like it,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. You were so immersed in your drink that you missed the way he sighed softly, hand gently cradling his chest where his heart would be.

Namjoon had taken his own sip as well, sighing dreamily as the creamy and sweet flavor overtook his palate. “Truly the best drink in existence. If I was a Twitch streamer or some shit, I’d promote this regularly for free.”

His comment made Jimin giggle softly, but his gaze is trained on something else entirely. “I’m flattered, but maybe don’t promote Y/N’s cup, over here. We don’t typically have strawberries and hearts doodled all over our cups,” he said, smirking slyly.

Lo and behold, your cup did have small doodles littering its sides whereas Namjoon’s was just a plain white paper cup. “Oh,” you said, blushing furiously when you finally noticed. Your flush was nothing compared to the one on Jungkook’s cheeks, however. The two of you refused to make eye contact after that, both of you trying (and failing) to silence the amused snickers of your respective friends.

Despite that slightly embarrassing (and heartwarming) experience, that had marked the start of your love for the tiny bakery and their special strawberry shortcake milkshake. You returned to Euphoria Bakery as often as you could throughout the summer, even going to visit it without Namjoon most of the time. You would even occasionally go out of your way to visit the bakery, even after your summer classes had ended and there was really no reason for you to be around the area.

It also didn’t hurt that the boy behind the counter was especially cute, with his big doe eyes and melodic laughter that always got your heart beating erratically in your chest. It hadn’t taken long for you to admit to yourself that you had a not-so-tiny crush and every visit to the bakery only made you fall deeper for him.

Namjoon has assured you that Jungkook clearly has a crush on you too, but you’re quick to shut him down. It is one thing to be shy and awkward around a girl and another to have a crush on the aforementioned girl. As you visited the bakery more and more, you do notice that Jungkook is more reserved when it comes to other female clientele, although, dare you hope? He does seem a little bit more… nervous, when he talks to you, but that could be your lovesick eyes playing tricks on you.

Never mind the fact that he only ever seems to leave cute doodles on your cups alone, but that could just be a coincidence, right? After all, he can hardly hold a conversation with you when you try to speak with him, always eager to rush to the backroom to make your drink.

Your visits usually consist of making idle chit chat with Jimin after greeting both him and Jungkook. The younger boy often dips the moment he sees you through the glass door, automatically going to prepare your favorite summer treat without even having to ask for your order. He never stays to stick around long enough to make conversation, as he eventually excuses himself to do some chore or another. During one of your trips, you tentatively asked Jimin if Jungkook was avoiding you, to which the blonde boy just laughed heartily at your query.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. He’ll come around eventually; he’s just nervous. Don’t tell him I told you this, but…” he trails off, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally overhear him. When he turns back to you, the smirk on his face is equal parts amused and mischievous. He looks a little impish, though you aren’t sure if he’d take that too kindly. “Jungkook always stares out the door, waiting for you to arrive. I’ve caught him red-handed far too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at his words but don’t say anything after that. You suppose all you can do is wait for him to start warming up to you eventually, and you hope the day comes sooner as the summer days grow shorter and shorter.

Of course, that day does come eventually, but probably not on the day you wished it would happen.

Like all good things, summer comes to its close and so does the summer menu options offered at Euphoria Bakery. Jimin had already told you a week beforehand that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake would get phased out as soon as July hit, but you refused to listen. You had hoped that as his regular customer and friend, perhaps Jimin would make an exception and prolong the milkshake’s lifetime for your sake, but it seems that Jimin has made it clear that friendship and business are two separate entities that he will not allow to coincide.

“Please Jimin? Just one more time? I’ll even settle for a small size,” you beg, your entire body draped over the cashier counter like the pathetic plebeian that you are. Thankfully, since you have made it a habit to pass by the bakery when it’s close to closing time, there aren’t any other patrons left to judge your pitiful display. Unthankfully, that also means Jimin is free to flick you on the forehead with no holds barred, leaving a large red welt where his finger hits.

“I already told you that I won’t budge, not even if you licked my Balenciagas. Besides, we’re out of strawberries anyway.” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes at your pained whines as you grasp your head in agony. “Oh stop it, will you? I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ, hyung.” Jungkook pipes up, startling both you and Jimin. Jungkook is usually content to wiping down the glass displays or tables while he passively listens to the two of you bicker, humming occasionally to indicate that he’s still listening, so it comes as a small surprise whenever he does decide to speak up. He must have noticed this too, as his ears quickly begin to redden as he scrambles to finish his sentence. “I-I mean, hyung might have small hands, but his finger flicks are no joke. You could break someone’s skull with that thing.”

“Who are you calling small, huh?” Jimin growls, but the playful smirk on his face tells you that he’s just teasing. He pulls Jungkook in a headlock, who surprisingly doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that Jimin is actively trying to block his windpipe with his strong forearms. “Take it back!”

“Never,” Jungkook wheezes, effortlessly removing himself from Jimin’s grip. He dusts himself off, not even breathless. “Also, why’d you lie to Y/N like that? We still have strawberries in the back. How else would we make our strawberry jam tarts?”

Jimin squawks indignantly, folding his arms. “How dare you sell out our company secrets! I could fire you for that!”

Jungkook scoffs, bumping Jimin with his hip. Jungkook must also not know his own strength, because he accidentally causes Jimin to stumble a few steps back, nearly toppling over one of their bread racks. “You’re joking. If you fired me, no one would be able to make the bagels in the morning because you never know how to proof them correctly.”

“Slander!” Jimin hisses, pinching Jungkook’s side in retaliation. You and Jungkook laugh at his childish pouts, but the older boy can’t hide his own mirth for too long. “Fine. You can stay. But you,” he points at you this time, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You better not seduce my boy over here to make your strawberry shortcake milkshake. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He drags his finger to the corner of the walls, where there is—

“There’s nothing there?” You follow where he’s pointing, but all you can see is a stray cobweb that Jungkook must have missed while dusting this morning. “Am I supposed to be looking at something?”

“Jimin is thinking of installing surveillance cameras soon. He’s convinced that someone is trying to steal his banana cream pie recipe.” Jungkook shrugs. He slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, glaringly delighted when their height difference becomes even more apparent while he stands close to him. “Anyway, I promise I won’t get ‘seduced’ by her, or whatever you want to call it. Why don’t you head home early for tonight? I’ll close up and I’ll try to convince Y/N to try our other pastries as a replacement.”

You open your mouth to try and protest, but Jungkook sends you a cheeky wink, making sure that his boss doesn’t catch him in the act. Bemused but interested to see what he’s up to, you decide to keep quiet and wait for him to continue.

“Don’t try and think you’re being slick here, buddy,” Jimin says, closing in on Jungkook’s personal space by pressing his chest against his. “If I see that you break the bakery code and serve her that drink… There will be consequences.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he gently pries the smaller man away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. No funny business, I promise. Now get out of here, hyung. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin gives him one last firm look before squinting warily at you, lips pursed tightly. “No seducing,” he repeats, wagging his finger at you. He unties the apron around his neck, throwing it haphazardly at the coat hanger on the back door where his jacket was hanging. He folds it over his arm and points at the corner of the ceiling with his free hand once more before exiting through the front entrance, the soft bells hanging above the doorway tinkling in his wake.

When he’s gone, you release a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. “Well, that was easier than expected. I didn’t think you’d be able to get him to leave. He must trust you a lot, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nah. He’s just lazy. He hates closing the bakery and will jump at any opportunity to go home early.”

You nod. “Seems like him.” There’s a beat of silence. “So… How much seducing am I gonna have to do to get my milkshake, huh?”

Like you guessed, Jungkook immediately turns red at your words, spluttering and stammering over his spit for a few seconds before managing to come up with a reply. “O-oh, there’s no need for that. I was gonna make the drink for you anyway.”

“But what about the quote-unquote consequences?” you ask, still worried that you might be getting Jungkook in trouble. You’d rather have your arm cut off than have him get punished, no matter how small it might be.

“No need to worry about that. Jimin might pretend to be a prickly old man sometimes, but he’s mostly just full of hot air,” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “He’ll just make me treat him to some skewers or something. He’s just teasing.”

“If… If you say so? I just really don’t want him to get angry with you…” you say, voice turning small as you tried to reign your embarrassment in. “I know I made a fool of myself just moments ago and begged like a baby for the milkshake, but I was just exaggerating…”

“Something tells me that you aren’t, but let’s pretend for your sake that you are,” Jungkook says. You huff indignantly at his teasing, but you’re more overjoyed by the sight of his cute bunny smile. You had only seen it in passing a few times in the past, but seeing it directed at you is an entirely different experience. Because of you, your mind helpfully supplies.

He heads over to the backroom to begin preparing your drink, but he keeps the door open this time so you can see him even from behind the counter. You can mostly only see the large industrial ovens and bread racks filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries proofing for the night, but you do catch a glimpse of the sole blender near the back. Jungkook grabs the glass jar first and then walks over to the fridge just out of your sight, most likely to grab the ingredients needed for your milkshake.

The bakery is mostly silent, save for the sound of Jungkook moving and assembling everything. You rack your brain for some sort of conversation starter, as the atmosphere between the two of you has begun to return to its usual awkward state as you skirt around each other, unsure of where either of you stands. You might have known him for a while now, but today is the most you’ve ever spoken to him and the tension is palpable.

“So.” You clear your throat, heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. “I… guess this is going to be the last time I have this drink, huh?”

The sound of Jungkook chopping on the cutting board pauses for a second. You can only see his left shoulder from where you’re standing, but you can see it tense even then. “I… I mean, will you stop coming over to the bakery if it is the last time?”

There are so many things you want to say all at once, but the words somehow get caught in your throat. You want to say that you love coming to the bakery to see them (though it’s mostly Jungkook if you’re being honest) and that the strawberry shortcake milkshake had just been an excuse to visit for a while now. You want to keep visiting for as long as they’ll have you—but you don’t know how to say it without hot humiliation running down your spine. You don’t want to weird him out by confessing to him all of a sudden. And so, you clam up, not knowing how to respond.

When Jungkook throws in all the ingredients in the blender, he doesn’t turn it on immediately. He tilts his head to the side, not fully looking at you but giving you a view of his beautiful side profile. You see his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks. “Because… If that’s how it’s going to be, then maybe… buying a couple of skewers for Jimin won’t be so bad.”

You freeze. “What? Are you saying that...”

“I’ll keep making the drink for you, even if it’s not on the menu anymore?” Jungkook finishes, turning fully to face you. There’s a shy grin on his face, coupled with the ever-present pink flush high on his cheekbones. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ll have to be sneaky about it, though. You’ll have to come to the bakery only when I’m closing so that he doesn’t catch us but otherwise…” He scratches the tip of his nose, looking embarrassed. “If… If you’re fine doing that, I mean.”

It feels like an eternity before you can remember how to function like a regular human being again. Your insides feel like molten lava and you’re certain that your internal organs have begun to self-destruct right after that super-effective hit from Jeon Jungkook, super baker boy extraordinaire. It’s mind-blowing how effortlessly cute he can be, making you realize belatedly that his quiet demeanor over the past few weeks had been a blessing and not a curse. If he had been this sweet with you from the get-go, you’d surely be melted butter on a sidewalk by now.

“I would love you—I mean, I would love it if you did that for me, actually.” You stammer, resisting the urge to punch yourself in the tit. You’re thankful for the lack of mirrors at the bakery, for you are positive that you must look like the devil’s blazing red testicles at this point.

“Great,” Jungkook smiles softly. He turns the blender off, pouring your drink into a paper cup. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabs a marker from the small tin can near the cash register, and you watch as he quickly scribbles a few hearts around the circumference of the cup. “There we go. Now it’s done.”

As Jungkook hands your drink to you, you’re hit with a moment of déjà vu when your fingers brush just like the first time you had met. You sense the same familiar shock of electricity when you touch, but instead of pulling away like before, Jungkook surprises you for the third time that day.

When he’s sure that you have a secure grip on your cup, he grabs your free hand with his, unfurling your fingers until he can get a hold of your pinky. He curls his pinky into yours, linking them together with a bashful smile on his lips. “There. Now we pinky promised to each other.”

“Y-yes. Of course,” you mumble, giggling lightly when he still refuses to let go. “I pinky promise.”

Five minutes away from Euphoria Bakery, Jimin sits quietly in his parked car, his figure hunched over the small screen of his phone as he chuckles loudly to himself. There is a tiny video of two people, a boy and a girl, with their hands held together. Despite the quality being grainy and warped, Jimin needs no confirmation as to who those people are; he’s always known, after all.

“All according to keikaku.” He whistles happily, already salivating at the thought of all the skewers Jungkook will have to buy for him.

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ttlmt · 2 years

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Bee, how are we meant to process this!?!?! I'm so furious on his behalf that he got jerked around by YouTube for so long, it's so disheartening and unfair and yet he's still there. Picking up the shattered pieces and figuring out how to fit them back together again. Just listening to his voice for an hour and a half straight (or well gay) has made something resonate deep within my chest and I didn't realise how much I missed him before I was reminded of all that he is. (Also, hello, I hope you're doing well, love!)

i think you can see me have a rollercoaster of a breakdown over the past like three hours on this blog cxlkjcdhg its so much to process

i missed him SO much just today my friends and i were joking about dan coming back and then BOOM here he is. i loved listening to his voice and his humour and wisdom and he always knows just what to say when i need to hear it. always sends me in a spiral but knows how to pull me out.

(edit: i've decided to put this under a read more because a) it got way longer than expected and b) its not all coherent and well-spoken like i wanted it to be but here it is)

first of all, i love dan's journey to accepting his past and appreciating it for what it is because thats a similar journey that i've been on recently and im glad he never doesn't acknowledge that there was good in it. it was good. it was important. its just not what he needs now. and nuance is something this phandom i find always struggles with, but dan is so good at it. there was good and bad parts to all parts of his career, but he ends on a positive note because he knows we're like him and we worry and thats where he is now and just yeah i love him

dan being so hard on himself about being a creator and whether or not he deserves this and that he firmly believes he's not good enough? i FELT that. like it doesnt matter what other people say, sometimes you just dont believe the good and you just need to operate like that. and it SUCKS. but you still do it in hopes that maybe one day you'll see what they see. also all that esp after knowing all the shit he went through in the past year? im about to throw hands with dans brain

BURNOUT. god as a media student just personally this hit. like its not an industry you can be neurodivergent or mentally ill in. you're expected to be working 24/7 and you're supposed to be happy about it because you're doing what you love. everything is your job, but its what you wanted right? creative control? its so fucked up and dan explained it way better than i have ever heard someone say it. im so glad hes prioritizing getting help to work on stuff like we're a collaborative species we're meant to work together and im so glad it seemed with this video already he has found people he likes working with

i'm gonna fucking fight youtube. like i figured it was bad behind the scenes but i did not in any universe think it was That Bad. i just assumed things got cancelled cause of covid. the way they treated dan is so fucking unprofessional (but also not unheard of in the industry which is more fucked) and i hope they receive backlash for this but also YTO is gone now so theres nothing really to do and i also dont want it to reflect on dan. in addition to that, i can't imagine going through this with a partner who has the same employer and needs to work with them too. like phil had to watch yt do this to dan all while still working with yt cause its his job. they love and care about eachother so much and im glad they had eachother but jfc they shouldn't have had to go through that.

i'm so glad dan is taking control of his narrative and doing stuff for himself now. im soooo excited for tour. im so happy ttlmt (the video) is getting the recognition it deserves. i hope this shuts everyone up who shit on dan over the past 2 years.

also hellooooo i'm doing alright! i just got back to my parent's place for the summer so i'm adjusting to that and starting my summer course so i'm a bit overwhelmed but im overall okay. all this happening right after i say im back with gifs is so funny dlkjfdg

#ask #nina

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kuroosdumbslut · 4 years

Text

Smut HCs for Shiggy, Dabi, and Hawks

*smut but also just general sex stuff, fluff cause i have no control*

Shigaraki:

he has a filthy fucking mouth oh my god

i feel like he doesn’t have too much experience, but i wouldn't say he has none

at first he is pretty vanilla cause, yknow, not too much experience

after that tho and once he gets more and more comfortable, kinks start coming up

some of his fav kinks include: being called daddy or master, choking, bondage, public sex (but like only kinda public), and spanking

switch, and in the beginning when diving into kinks, let you lead for a while before he got the hang of it

he will fuck you anywhere and everywhere in the base, on every surface

please let him spank you, he will fuck your brains out later

he doesn’t really understand the need for aftercare at first, but if you explain it to him, he will do it lol he’s just used to quick fucks before disappearing so the heroes don’t catch him

his favorite time to fuck is after the both of you get pretty fucking stoned, and during those sessions, your shit’s gonna get rearranged ok? be prepared to not walk right for the next few days

c’mon....he will 1000000% cum inside of you

aftercare on those days is amazing though, cause lets be honest, he doesn’t wanna lose you,,, expect a bath, some painkillers just in case, and massages with lots of cuddles afterwards

safeword: Red

you had to use the safeword one time because you were so overwhelmed and pleasure was turning to pain; shiggy stopped immediately and just froze, not wanting to shock you by yanking himself out of you on top of everything.

aftercare that day was longer than usual and filled with nothing but soft, sweet whispers and kisses (poor shiggy felt so bad, he wouldnt even indulge in that kink for a few weeks cause he got nervous to hurt you again)

Dabi:

very experienced with sex, not relationships

hes had quite a few one night stands, so he isnt lost on what to do

temperature play, bondage, daddy/matser kink, breeding kink, spanking, degradation, enjoys some roleplays sometimes

a dom, sometimes lets you dom

actually knows how to and does aftercare, and hes really good at it too

especially on days where temperature play was used, he will be sure to have an ice pack ready and all

doesnt often fuck you anywhere else besides your shared room or the bathroom, but if its nearly empty at base, first place he wants to is at the bar, bent over it, while he ravages you in every way possible

filthy mouth, this man will get you soaking wet just from his words jfc

safeword: Danger

one time you used it when the degrading was getting to you a little; as dabi promised he stopped everything immediately and very slowly and carefully moved you both into a more comfortable position. when you explained it was the degrading, he toned it back to VERY LIGHT DEGRADING the next time yall wanna indulge in that.

aftercare that day was full of positive praise and a bath where he sat in with you, giving you gentle massages while you both just came down from the emotional high

Hawks:

a switch

not really experienced, he was with the hero commission so yknow

a fast learner tho

breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, pegging, light choking, collar and leash

amazing aftercare, even when it was just more vanilla sex. every session ends with a massage and cuddles (plus whatever he feels like he wants/needs to do for whatever kinks were explored that day)

he has fucked you in a closet cause you both really wanted each other during some pro hero event lmao

he had to put his hand over your mouth at one point cause you couldn’t keep the noises down

has fucked you in ever room at his house and yours lmao

i feel like he has ruts and during those times, you will be so fucked out its insane

hes very good at dirty talk and will drive you crazy with taunts and promises of you not walking for at least a week before walking away to do whatever it is he was doing with a smug smirk on his face (lil shit)

tease him back please, make him flustered and let him suffer with his boner

safeword: ketchup

used it once because you went too deep into subspace. he stopped and was gonna ask whats wrong, but you were already kinda crying so he brought you into a sitting position on his lap, encasing you with his arms and wings. he could kinda tell it was subspace, so he gently talked to you to bring you back down. after that, bath time and cuddles while watching whatever show or movie you want

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fanficimagery · 4 years

Text

Take on the World; pt. 1

Anonymous asked: can I request something where the reader falls asleep on Rick's lap or something and the group is in awe of the two of them?

Words: 3.4K Warnings: Requests? What are those? Turns out I don't know how to make someone appear "in awe" and forgot how to fulfill someone’s request. JFC why was this so hard? Also after I started writing this, I saw the second message where you requested no Alexandria. I'm sorry to admit I had already included this particular safe haven and didn't know how to rewrite it. Mentions past violence/trauma.

The first couple of days at Alexandria are not as relaxing as one would hope for. Yes the place is a goddamn luxury resort compared to what you and your group are used to, but after everything you've been through you can't help but be suspicious. Because after literal years of running for your lives and putting your life on the line to defend whatever safe haven your group ended up finding, a place like Alexandria should not exist.

But it does and every single person in your group, with the exception of Father Gabriel, can't seem to relax. You and your large group have been given a few houses and nearly an entire block to spread out in, but you've all congregated together in two houses and refuse to wander too far from one another. It was hard to decide who went where, but Rick managed to do it without any problems. He instructed Michonne to take Tara, Rosita, Abraham, Eugene, Sasha, and Father Gabriel into one house while he himself took on Carl, Judith, you, Daryl, Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. No one fussed and seemed to be a little at ease during the day, but when night fell that's when everyone's guard went back up.

It also doesn't help that the couple of days you've been here, everyone's been called into Deanna's office for a bullshit interview so she could decide which job best fit your skills. Jobs? Skill sets? The goddamn dead were walking around eating people and Deanna was trying to fill in a teaching position for the teenagers in the secluded little town.

The locals are wary, and have every right to be after the way you all showed up, but a few of them have managed to be welcoming and bring in extra food to feed everyone and extra clothes so you could all bathe the blood and trauma away. Huh. Fat chance.

But though you've showered and managed to change into some clean, comfortable clothes, you still can't seem to sit still and rest.

A floorboard creaks and you whirl around, reaching for a knife that's no longer strapped to your thigh. Stupid Deanna and her rules!

A cleanly shaven and trimmed Rick chuckles, stepping out of the shadows and into the hallway you were pacing in as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You frown at him, sighing, and then tiredly grin as you lean against the wall. "What's-her-face finally got a hold of you, I see. Daryl up next?"

"Carol wishes," he muses. "If he doesn't take a shower soon, I'm pretty sure she's going to hose him down in the front yard just so she can wash his current clothes." You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head in amusement. Rick smiles at you, but that smile falls as he steps closer and lowers his voice. "When was the last time you slept, Y/N?"

You grimace and cross your arms over your chest. "I sleep."

"Ten minutes every few hours is not good and you know it." Guilty, you avert your gaze. "It's three in the morning. You should be asleep."

"Yeah? Well so should you." Meeting his gaze then, your stomach swoops at the fond expression he's staring at you with. Rick Grimes is a can of worms you closed after the fallout of the prison because that's when everything really started to go wrong for your group, but it seems that behind the walls of Alexandria those worms are trying to burst free. You lightly clear your throat and kick at one of his booted feet. "I'll sleep when you sleep, oh fearless leader."

He smirks. "Fine. Lets get some sleep then."

Immediately, your smile falls. "What?"

Rick grabs you by the wrist and starts to drag you towards the living room where everyone is camped out at. Daryl is reclined in the only recliner, Carol and Judith are on the loveseat, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie are on the couch, and there's a mattress that's been pushed up in the corner of the room. Everyone is currently sound asleep, so Rick quietly kicks off his boots and gestures for you to do the same. You do and then try not to squirm when he sits down on the mattress with his back against the wall only to drag a pillow into his lap and pat it as if he's expecting you to lay your head there.

"Come on," he tells you. "I got some sleep earlier. I can doze on and off while you actually get some sleep. I'll keep watch if I have to." Oh. He really is expecting you to just lay your head in his lap.

"Rick.." You hesitate and he grins wider. The shake of his head, however, tells you he won't let this go. So heaving a small sigh, you step onto the mattress and then lower yourself so you're curled up with your head on the pillow in his lap. Immediately one of his hands goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and you huff at him. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're running yourself ragged. Go to sleep."

You shift a little to get more comfortable, your body traitorously relaxing as Rick's fingers delve into your hair and lightly scratch at your scalp. Your heart warms and your eyelids flutter shut, taking longer and longer to reopen as the minutes tick by until you're eventually asleep.

Rick's hand seems to have a mind of its own as he continues to scratch Y/N's scalp, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she snorts and then grumbles in her sleep. Eventually though his thoughts drift off and he can't help but think back to when he had met her.

Rick had first laid eyes on Y/N at the quarry back in Georgia. He'd been so wrapped up at being reunited with his family that he didn't get further in knowing her other than the fact that she'd been a friend of Glenn's from work. Then the farm happened, loyalties were tested as a swarm of the dead demolished their little safe haven, and everyone nearly starved to death while on the run before finding the prison.

The prison was the safest haven they had, but also the one place with a bunch of terrible memories. The only good thing that actually came out of the prison was that, that was when Rick really took notice of Y/N and how much she gave so their family of misfits were as comfortable as can be. He's ashamed to admit that's when he started to develop feelings for her because a very hormonal Lori wasn't making things easy on him, but then their safety was put in jeopardy by a spurned ex-inmate they'd let loose and no one had time to think about intimacy.

Lori had given birth to a daughter everyone knew wasn't biologically Rick's, and died in the process after being secluded away from everyone because of an invasion of the dead. Rick lost himself to his grief for a few weeks after, but Y/N was there to unknowingly pull him back together piece by piece. Not once did her trust in him waver, nor did she blame him for turning away strangers when they had found their way into the prison. In the world they lived in, one had to be extremely careful with who they trusted to let around their family.

But then the Governor tried to take the prison by force, lives were lost, the group was split up, and the prison was basically given back to the dead after fences were torn down and walls were bombed open. Y/N got stuck with him, Carl, and Michonne in the chaos and that was when he noticed his feelings made a reappearance. Michonne had seen the longing looks when Y/N would try to keep Carl as safe as possible while also letting him do things on his own since being a child wasn't safe in the world they lived in now, but she would do nothing more than tease her friend about it when Y/N wasn't paying attention.

And just when things started to seem semi-okay, a group of men caught up to them which led to Daryl swooping in just in the nick of time to prevent some terrible things from happening to both Carl and Y/N. They were shaken, but happy to be reunited with a familiar face and tried to not get their hopes up when they started to see signs of a promising sanctuary for people in need. It was wishful thinking that the others missing from the group were seeing the same signs, but Rick pushed for it anyway.

Terminus ended up being a goddamn nightmare and Rick was disheartened when very familiar faces started to be shoved into the train car they were being held in.

Y/N whimpers in her sleep, startling Rick from memory lane. His fingers, which had stopped scratching, start moving again in hopes of her falling back into a peaceful slumber. But as the seconds tick by, her breathing gets heavier and faster until she's eventually gasping awake.

"Hey. Hey!" Rick quietly snaps, hoping to grab her attention without scaring her and without waking the others. "Y/N, it's okay. You're safe. We're safe. You don't have to be scared."

Your eyes take a moment to focus in the dark and when they do your breath stutters in your chest when Rick comes into focus. You sag in relief and his hands cup your face so you're only staring at him. You grasp onto his wrists to help ground yourself. "R-Rick?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. It's me. Just breathe." You do as he's requested, blinking away tears when they build up. "Where did you go just now?" He murmurs.

"T-Terminus," you exhale shakily. "I was- we were back at Terminus."

Rick's gaze subconsciously darts down to your neck and you release one of his wrists to cover the scar that resides there at the base of your throat. You had gotten it from Terminus, the cannibals who were luring people there, having tied up you, Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Bob to dispose of first. The men were pushed to their knees on one side of an empty watering trough and you were dragged in across from them. All of your wrists were bound and bandannas had been tied around your heads and shoved into your mouths to keep your screams from being too loud.

But the second you were shoved to your knees and pushed forward to lean over the trough, your eyes widened and you started to sob. A hand gripped the back of your hair to pull your head back just so and the men from your group went wild struggling to help you. A machete had been placed at the base of your throat, but the man only got in a small slice before an explosion rocked the entire place.

"We got out of there." Rick's voice brings you back to the present and you sniffle, nodding, and you let your hand fall. He attempts to smile, but when you can't return it he pushes aside the pillow in his lap. "Come here."

Your brow furrows. "What?"

"Come here," he says again. He pulls his legs up so his knees are bent and then spreads his legs while gesturing to the space in front of him. "You need sleep and you won't sleep peacefully until you feel safe."

"Rick.."

"Nope. I don't wanna hear it. Sit in front of me and lay your back against my chest."

The longer you stare, the more you realize he's being serious. So blinking at him in surprise, you can't help but numbly crawl over to him. You're so nervous that you're actually trembling as you get into position and hesitantly lean back until you're resting against him. Rick cages you in with his arms resting on his knees until eventually he wraps them around your stomach to hold you. Your arms slowly fall atop of his and you lean your head back against his shoulder, relaxing. "Oh," you breath. "This is- this is nice."

Rick chuckles as he nudges your head with his chin. "Get some sleep, sweetheart. No one is going to harm you."

"Famous last words, Grimes. If I wake up to mayhem, I'm letting you do all the dirty work while I hide away."

His only response is to squeeze you a little tighter and you shift a little more to get comfortable enough to fall asleep once more.

The next time Rick wakes up it's because he hears someone shuffling around. His left arm tightens around Y/N while his other reaches for the Colt at his hip. Only he realizes immediately that he no longer has his gun and his eyes fly open. Almost everyone is staring at him in surprise, with the exception of Daryl who doesn't seem fazed.

"She's sleeping and letting someone touch her," Glenn says in awe. "How long has she been asleep for?"

Rick grimaces as he shifts a little, freezing when Y/N sighs in her sleep and shoves her face further into the side of his neck. Slowly but surely he stretches his legs out, exhaling softly and wrapping his second arm around her once more. "How long have you been watching?"

"About fifteen minutes," Carol muses. "We for sure thought Judith would have woken you up with her fussing."

"Was it nightmares?" Maggie asks. "She hasn't slept longer than an hour since.."

"Since Terminus," Glenn frowns. "I think we've all had trouble sleeping since then."

"Y/N more so than anyone," Daryl grumbles. He frowns, clearly remembering what he, Glenn, and Rick were witness to.

Carl stretches, smiling. "I don't know what to be more happier about: the fact that Y/N is sleeping or that my dad's finally loosened up to see what was in front of his face this entire time."

"Excuse me?" Rick says. Everyone in the room but him snickers and his grip on Y/N loosens just a little.

"Y/N has had a thing for you since the farm," Maggie admits, "but she kept it quiet because of Lori and was afraid of Shane and all his drama."

"And you've had a thing for her since we were split up after the prison." Carl grins at his dad's subtle expression of guilt. "I'm surprised it took you guys this long for anything to happen."

"But it- nothing's happened."

"You cuddling her says otherwise," Carol teases.

Rick huffs and then freezes once more when Y/N shifts.

Talking and muffled laughter is what wakes you, but you manage to stay still as everyone around you continues to talk. You do your best not to laugh at their obvious awe of you finally sleeping and then try your hardest not to blush when they call out both you and Rick for hidden feelings. Eventually though you have the urge to pee and you let your eyes flutter open, groaning slightly as you stretch your legs out and arch your back in the process.

Someone snorts and you grimace when you realize groaning was perhaps not the best thing to do while you were practically in Rick's lap. You glance around at everyone in the room, slowly leaning forward and crawling over Rick's thigh. "Hey, guys." You gulp. "Everyone sleep okay?"

Daryl smirks. "Did you?"

The room's occupants don't bother hiding their amusement. You frown at the hunter. "Get bent, Dixon." Rick chuckles at your side and you avoid his gaze. Standing then, you quickly make an excuse to flee to the upstairs bathroom. "I'll just, uh, be in the bathroom or something."

Halfway up the stairs, the front door opens and you glance over your shoulder to see the other half of the group enter the house. Sighing in relief, you hope their presence is enough to make everyone forget about you waking up in Rick's arms.

The minutes tick by and after taking a little longer than necessary in the upstairs bathroom, you finally head downstairs. You're more composed and ready for more teasing, but surprisingly the house is clear of mostly everyone. Carol is there trying to figure something out for lunch, Tara and Glenn are playing a board game, and Eugene is browsing the books that were already on the shelves in the living room. Carol catches sight of you as you're passing by and you smile tightly before heading out the front door.

Maggie is sitting on the porch steps and when she notices you she gestures for you to join her. You do, sighing as you take a seat on the same step as her and nudge her with your shoulder when you catch sight of her smile. "Go ahead, Mags. Get it all out."

"How did it feel to wake up in the beefy arms of-" You snort, punching at her thigh. Maggie laughs and leans towards you, her smile softening as she nudges you softly. "In all seriousness, how did that happen?"

You shrug. "I was pacing. Rick talked to me and said I needed sleep. He-" You trail off, chuckling. "He actually made me lay next to him and lay my head in his lap. I fell asleep with him scratching my scalp."

Maggie coos. "So then how did you end up the way you did?"

"I had a dream about Terminus." Her smile falls. "I woke up in a panic and Rick comforted me. That's all that was."

"You sure about that?" You sigh and open your mouth to deny whatever she's concocted in that brain of hers, but you see her staring somewhere down the road. Following her gaze, you see Rick bent over a bike and helping a child with the chain that'd fallen off. You slowly start to smile, especially when he glances up and catches your gaze before waving. "We're safe here, Y/N. You can let that guard of yours down and actually pursue something with him."

"We thought we were safe at the prison and look how that turned out." This time it's Maggie's turn to sigh and you turn to face her, lowering your voice. "If we stay here, Mags, we're sitting ducks. We'll become soft and, should this place ever be overrun, you know damn well every person previously living here will be running around like chickens with their heads cut off."

"Then teach them," she urges. "I've been talking to Deanna about expanding the walls to make room for a bigger garden. She's listening, Y/N. She's taking our words into account because she knows what we've been through out there. She knows we have experience."

"She also took our weapons away," you deadpan. "No one in this town is allowed a weapon, so what makes you think she'll want us teaching her precious locals the proper ways to defend themselves?"

"You never know if you don't try."

Your shoulders droop. "I want to. Believe me, I do, but you know we don't fit in here."

"I know, but we have to try for Carl and Judith." She pauses, taking a moment to quickly glance around. "And for the future babies that will possibly be born."

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do your eyes widen. "What?" She shrugs and you shake your head in disbelief. "You're actually trying?"

"Not now," she sheepishly admits, "but we want to. Eventually. We just need to set down roots somewhere and Alexandria seems like a place that can happen."

"Jesus, Mags." You're still in disbelief, but when you see her expression falter as if ashamed, you're quick to grab onto her hand and squeeze. "Okay. I'll try for the kids and for my future godchild."

Maggie snorts and turns her hand to squeeze yours in return. "And while you're at it, try with Rick. The sexual tension is getting to be a bit much."

"And the moment's ruined." You're quick to toss her hand aside and stand up, ignoring her laughter and then staring longingly at Rick. You sigh softly before turning to mumble, "If I ever get that man in the sack, you and the rest of the house will only have yourselves to blame. I don't want to hear any complaints about traumatizing noises."

She laughs out loud, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "If you get that man in the sack, I'll be so proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just you wait and see."

#twd gen fic x reader #rick x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead imagine #rick grimes imagine #the walking dead #rick grimes #maggie greene #daryl dixon #carol peletier #glenn rhee #carl grimes

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percontaion-points · 2 years

Text

The Certainty of Deception chapters 8 & 9

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 8

I graciously accepted the platter, and leaned in a little closer to McKenzie so that our arms touched. “Potatoes?” I asked in a soft whisper.

Those sexy, sultry, slutty potatoes. God, how can anybody stand the sexual tension of this scene?

I cannot with this book. Why is he whispering this in her ear?

“Your phone, Drew.” She nodded toward my pants. “Answer it.”

I blinked several times, lost and confused, before I lifted my hips,

pulling the phone from my pocket. Within an instant my stomach soured. I closed my hand around the phone, clenching my jaw in aggravation. “What the hell could she want?” I muttered under my breath.

McKenzie leaned in closer to me. “You really should take that.”

I shook my head, lifting my hips to put the phone back in my pocket. “Not right now.”

“Andy,” the cadence of her tone held a strong warning. “Take the call.”

JFC, I don't even know what the hell that McKenzie even wants anymore. Like she clearly missed Drew a lot, but she's encouraging him to take calls from Olivia.

I looked down into the crystal blue water, wanting nothing more than to throw my cell phone into its depths.

He really should.

Well, maybe not so dramatic as a pool toss, but a change of number would really start to hammer the point to Olivia that she isn't welcome in Drew's life at all.

“I have no reason to disbelieve Olivia, except for my need to disprove that this baby could be mine.”

Actually, from my perspective, there's literally nothing Olivia has done to prove that the baby IS Drew's. She's lied to him over and over, and went so far as to LIE ABOUT BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH DREW.

I don't know why he's so eager to believe her, especially when this broke up him and McKenzie and is LITERALLY RUINING HIS LIFE.

“You’re saying Mickie was going to allow herself to be happy, even if it might hurt Olivia? Are you sure?”

To be fair, have you met Olivia? The girl was openly lying to everybody about being in a relationship with Drew, despite it having ended months earlier.

There's “this is out of character for her to be so cruel”. And then there's “she's really out of line and we're staging an intervention”.

“Because,” she curled her fingers against my chest; a mischievous smirk expanded over her lips, “this.” And that’s when she pushed me over the edge.

Chapter 8 summary: Everybody is having their dinner, and generally just having a good time. Drew is openly flirting with McKenzie, and she's responding in kind.

But then he gets a call from Olivia. And McKenzie tells him to go out back to take it. So he does.

And that goes about as you'd expect. She's jealous and angry that he's going on holiday, and didn't immediately respond to her call. However, at least Drew weaponizes Olivia's own stupidity and uses it against her in regards to time zones. (She thinks that they're in Vegas, remember? It's a couple hours behind Texas.)

After he hangs up, Bill comes out. They talk a lot about the Olivia situation, including how Drew and McKenzie were going to tell Olivia to fuck all the way off... when Olivia dropped the baby bomb on them. Bill asks Drew what he'd do if McKenzie no longer wants him. He responds by saying that he'd give up. If only because him coming to Texas IS him fighting for McKenzie. But this pleases Bill, and he tells Drew to be patient and try to push past McKenzie's stubbornness.

McKenzie comes out as Bill goes in. She kind of alludes to how much she misses Florida. Drew leans in for a kiss, but McKenzie, as mature as she is, pushes him into the pool.

Chapter 9

“Five mowe minutes,” Justice demanded.

I'm honestly getting really fucking sick of this character.

What autistic people want: representation in novels. A character who is openly autistic What autistic people don't want: a belittling mockery of their disorder played up for the cute factor.

Olivia was pregnant, and unless a test proved otherwise, I was going to be a father.

I'm getting really tired of saying this over and over again, so I'm probably not going to talk about it much anymore.

I leaned in and brushed a tender kiss to her cheek, and then left the house without so much as looking back.

Chapter 9 summary: In the pool, Drew grabs onto McKenzie and pulls her in, too. The two of them play-fight in the water, and they're just about to kiss when Gage comes out and makes trouble. His shout draws everybody else out. And then McKenzie's 12 year old cousin with the mental capacity of a four year old decides to dive into the pool, too. Despite his mother's screams “no! I don't have other clothes for you!”

So they get out, and make a big fuss over Justice being all wet. Everybody starts to leave after that. Once they're alone again, McKenzie asks Drew for breakfast the next morning. But then they remember that Drew's phone has been in his pocket, and he finds it funny how he wanted to chuck it into the pool earlier. He promises that it's not a big deal, and that he'll just get a new one. McKenzie tells him to come to her apartment tomorrow morning, and gives him a list of groceries to bring.

#The Truth in Lies Saga #The Certainty of Deception #chapter 08 #chapter 09 #McKenzie (TTIL)#Andrew (TTIL)#What Is Happening #Olivia (TTIL)#i give up #shitty women are shitty #bad writing is bad #who approved this #what the hell is wrong with people #nobody likes this #what the fuck is this

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houseofsol · 2 years

Photo

i’m here! kinda. sorta. still waiting on the coffee to do its thing. hopefully everyone is having a good day?? the sun is out! finally xD this past week has been so damn foggy. it’s nice to be able to look out the office window and see the houses on the other side of the pasture. xD though i’m sure tonight the fog will come back. seems to always sneak back in after the sun goes down. it’s also been cold af. xD it was below freezing last night. like okay i get it. winter is still reminding us its around. but jfc 20s as lows is a wee bit cold. xD that’s weather in the pac nw for you tho. xD never know what to expect and it’s never ever boring. but i’m here! i think i’ve finally got a decent handle on the replies across all my blogs. i am sorry for being slow but we all know that some days you can crank out a ton and other days you can’t. xD thanks for being patient and understanding. i’m over on @cxpt today working through what i feel i can write. please don’t think i don’t like our stuff just because i’ve yet to reply to it. the longer the reply the longer it takes me to get to. xD i will get to them. it’s just taking me a lot longer than usual. also don’t forget the inbox is always open for chatting or plotting. i promise we don’t bite. ;) i’ll hop on discord in a bit. just need food first. till then we’ll be lurking about! <33

#status #cxpt status

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closedafterdark · 4 years

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jfc man when i asked for the saerom x trainer smut i was expecting you to pull up with a quick write. It was more than I could ask for thank you very much. Theres a not much fromis smuts so its always a great read. Anyways for the next promt: Jisun in a cafe mete-cute that turned steamy in the bathroom go (include titty fucking if possible pls and thank you)

A follow up to Saerom.

You looked outside the window, nervous.

The previous night’s rain droplets reflected as the bright sunlight hit it. Lots of people were enjoying a beautiful day with their loved ones.

Here you were, in an intimate cafe that was brightly lit and minimalist in feel. Only a handful of customers were inside, mainly people getting their morning started. You looked down at the giant leaf the rather cute barista made for you and sighed. Your parents have been pressuring you to get married, and so you agreed to go on a blind date if it meant they can’t interfere with your dream to be a professional photographer.

You knew nothing of this woman, only that she was a few years younger and the daughter of your father’s friend.

You dressed up, but thought it was overkill as you sat in the cafe. You spent the previous night debating all possible color combinations for your outfit. In the end you decided on: a shirt that you ironed longer than you should’ve to make sure not a single wrinkle was formed, a skinny black tie, black skinny slacks that were a bit too short on you and freshly shined black shoes. One would assume you were going to a funeral or were some sort of bodyguard. All that planning just for you to return to a color you always wore. You looked at your watch, the woman was almost ten minutes late. Taking a glance around the cafe, you see a table of several women stealing glances at you and whispering to each other.

Just then, the door opens and a woman runs inside. The sounds of her heels rang through the cafe floor as she hurriedly runs to your table.

“Ahh you’re my blind date, right?” she said, panting heavily.

“I think so?” you asked, a bit doubtful.

“I’m so sorry, I got so caught up getting ready I didn’t realize what time it was” she said, sitting down across from you.

“It’s fine, I haven’t been here for long anyways” you replied.

“Since I know who you are, I’ll introduce myself. My name is Noh Jisun” she said.

“Yes, my father’s told me you’re his friend’s daughter” you said, bowing.

“My parents are trying to marry me off since I told them I don’t want to be chef and want to be a singer instead” Jisun explained.

“I understand. Parents want what’s best for their kids and sometimes that means they make us do things we’re uncomfortable doing. Mine are the same, actually” you said.

“Hello, ma’am. Would you like anything to drink?” the waitress said to Jisun.

“A cup of red bean tea, please”

“Right away, ma’am”

“Not too many people are into red bean tea” you said when the waitress left.

“An older friend introduced me to it. It helps a lot since my face gets pretty bloated when I wake up”

Jisun picked up the cup of hot liquid and drank it. You watched as it flowed down her throat, causing her to hum in satisfaction. A little bit dropped onto her black long sleeved top, causing her to get a napkin and wipe it.

"This place makes it pretty good" she said.

"So, tell me about yourself" Jisun said as she fixed her top.

"I'm here against my will because my parents don't approve of me being a photographer"

"Well. I see then. Straight to the point" Jisun said, giggling.

You couldn’t help but admire Jisun’s long sleeved top that showed off her fair toned shoulders and impressive chest. She caught you staring at something before looking down and smiling.

“I take it you’ve noticed my breasts?” she said in a naughty tone, squeezing them.

“I didn’t... uh”

“It’s fine. Most guys usually stare at them or my thighs. Why don’t we go somewhere more... private?”

You placed enough money to cover the two drinks and a bit extra as you grabbed Jisun’s wrist and dragged her away. Her heels rang through the floor as other customers watched you two.

The spacious interior was rather easy to maneuver as you held her hand and led her to a wooden door that was clearly labeled “Men’s”. You didn’t bother checking if there were other people occupying the stalls before you began kissing Jisun’s neck, causing her to moan as you form a trail onto her shoulders.

“I wasn’t late because I overslept. I... ah... was late b-because I was touching myself. My father sent me your photo and I couldn’t resist” Jisun whispered in your ear.

“I wish I was made aware that you have such a nice rack” you said as you pulled down her top and exposed her marvelous breasts, which were extremely soft and round. You wanted to do nothing else other than bury your face and cock between them.

Your fingers squeezed Jisun’s pretty nipples, making her moan once again as you felt them hardening. As you began fondling her breasts, Jisun’s erotic moans and her licking your ear was making you even more turned on at the fact that you two were still in a public place. Her breasts were rather heavy, but still extremely soft to the touch. You licked her cleavage, tracing your lips all over her chest. The faint smell of vanilla lotion lingered through your nose as you inhaled her wonderful aroma.

You spread Jisun’s legs open, unsurprised to find her not wearing any underwear.

“I knew you were going to fuck me so I decided not to wear any. Not like I do regardless” she said, lightly biting your neck.

Your hands roamed the inner creases of her thighs until they found their way to her folds. You ran one finger tip up and down, causing Jisun to slowly leak onto your finger.

“You’re such a bad slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes” she smiled, before your hand went up her thighs and stopped before they reached her pussy. Jisun was beginning to get desperate, wanting you to stick your finger inside her already.

She tried holding your hand in place by closing her thighs, but you slapped them softly and prevented her from doing so.

“Bad girls don’t get to close their legs” you said.

Your hands returned in between her legs, inserting one finger after another as Jisun’s moans began to increase in volume. She tried moving her body up and down your fingers, but you held her wide hips and shook your head. You pumped them as slowly as possible in order to keep her wanting more.

This went on for several minutes until you surprised her by pumping faster inside her. Jisun’s tight walls surrounded your fingers as her moans came out in staggered breaths. You hoped there was no one else inside the stalls or outside the door as she did a terrible job of keeping a secret.

The sounds of your fingers being coated by Jisun’s juices as they fucked her echoed throughout the restroom. Her moans increased as you felt your fingers being drenched. Every thrust stained her thighs as she begged you for more.

Her juices leaked all over your hand as you used your free hand to rub her clit. Jisun was close, as she looked at you with desire in her eyes. You knew she wanted to cum.

That would’ve been the case, if she was in control. As her body squirmed and was about to reach a euphoric high, you pulled out your fingers as Jisun’s moans filled your ears.

“I was going to cum!” she whined, trying to catch her breath.

“Bad girls deserve to be teased” you said, squeezing both of her ass cheeks softly.

“But I wanted to cum...” she whimpered.

“That depends on how well you suck my cock” you said, taking off your cardigan and placing it in front of you. Jisun smiled as she knelt in front of you and began to unzip your slacks. With one swift motion, she lowered them and your boxers, freeing your extremely hard erection from its cloth prison.

Jisun smiled widely as she eyed your cock. She licked her lips, salivating at the thought of what she wanted to do first. Her hand gripped your shaft and began to stroke while simultaneously licking your tip.

“You’re so hard” she said as she planted several wet kisses on your tip while stroking your cock.

“Only have you to blame” you said, smiling.

Jisun kisses your tip once more before holding your shaft and licking downwards until she reaches your balls, swirling her tongue around before she takes each in her mouth. You moaned as you felt your balls coated in her saliva as she released them with a loud pop.

Jisun licked every surface possible, leaving trails of saliva behind. Her soft lips wrapped themselves around your cock, causing you to moan. Jisun sucked you hard, taking you all the down to your base before coming back out.

“That’s a good girl” you moaned as you ran your fingers through Jisun’s brown hair, placing a hand behind her head and guiding the rhythm at which she bobbed up and down on your cock.

Jisun continued sucking your cock as you held onto her hair.

“You’re so yummy” she said as her saliva slowly dropped down your length.

Jisun’s blowjob was very wet and sloppy, spreading her wetness everywhere.

You’re so hard... it feels so good...” she said, slowly stroking you.

K-Keep sucking, please” you moaned, feeling your body tingle.

“Of course... master” Jisun said in a seductive tone as she shoved your cock back in her mouth, rubbing it across the surface of her tongue repeatedly. You could do nothing but moan, it was as if you were under Jisun’s spell as she gave you the most incredible blowjob of your life.

“You feel so good in my mouth” she managed to say while slurping on your cock.

Jisun swirled her tongue around your head rapidly. “I haven’t had cock this good in awhile”

“Do you want me to do this?” she asked as you see saliva spilling out of her mouth as her face has now become flushed. Jisun squeezes her tits before wrapping them around your cock.

“Oh my god...” you moaned in awe.

Jisun moved her breasts up and down, watching your facial expressions as they squeezed your cock. They were so soft and jiggled each time they bounced up and down in front of you.

“Oh fuck... you feel so good between my tits” she cried, as she closed her eyes and moaned. The sounds being made felt almost as good as the sensation of Jisun’s tits sandwiching your cock: her tits splashing as she used your saliva laced cock, her soft, sweet moans, and the quietness of the restroom. Your resistance to cum was slowly fading, Jisun’s tits and mouth were doing a number on you. She started licking the tip of your cock in a circular motion as her breasts thoroughly massaged you.

Jisun regretfully let go and slowly began to massage your balls using her tongue, coating them with another layer of saliva as she gently sucked on each individually.

“Come stand up so I can fuck you” you said, pulling on her hair.

As Jisun tried to get up, her legs were shaking. She didn’t have the strength to stand, causing her to fall back onto her knees.

“Such a shame. Being a bad girl and not listening to an order from your master” you said as you stuffed your cock back inside Jisun’s pretty mouth. She did her best to hold onto your thighs for balance as you began.

“Mmph! Mmhmmhph!”

Jisun’s moans were muffled as she tried to withdraw her head from your cock; but you stood firm, holding her still. You felt the back of her throat as she continued to take your cock for quite a long time.

“Hmmph!” one last moan from Jisun as she tapped your thighs repeatedly was enough for you to withdraw her head.

Jisun started coughing loudly, saliva dripping onto the floor as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my god...” she said, while still coughing. “Oh my god...”

“Are you okay?” you asked, holding onto your cock while pressing it against her soft cheeks. You watched as your saliva spread onto her face as she Jisun closed her eyes and nuzzled against it.

“Yes, master” she said weakly. “I love your cock... please give me more”

You jammed your cock inside her again, pushing it against the sides of her mouth. Her tongue ran against the underside of your shaft as you began to roughly fuck her mouth. You wrapped her hair around your hand as her mouth bobbed up and down. The splashing sounds of her saliva and erotic moans felt amazing throughout your body.

“Mhmph! Mmmphmh!”

Jisun continued to gargle on your cock as you pushed her head down again. You forced her in place as she looked at you with extremely submissive eyes. She showed no signs of struggling, quietly taking the pounding your cock was giving her. You felt the back of her throat squeezing you until she slowly gagged.

Her eyes began to water, pleading for you to release your grip. You didn’t, wanting to punish Jisun for being a bad girl. But when you felt she’s finally had enough, you pulled on her hair. Jisun violently coughs once more as saliva rushed out of her mouth and left a large trail on your cock.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough” you said to Jisun, genuinely concerned about her.

Without warning, Jisun dives back onto your cock. The beautiful woman between your legs works magic with her mouth. Every movement of your shaft from her lips sends pleasure throughout your body. You look down and see a mess of brown hair as Jisun’s head bobs up and down.

Trying to keep the pleasure from overwhelming you, you do your best to savor it and relish in the fact that your beautiful blind date was on her knees in a very clean cafe restroom giving you one of the best blowjobs you’ve ever received.

“Jisun... that feels so good. Fuck, I’m about to cum” you said, knowing full well that’s what you’ve wanted to do the whole time.

Jisun bobs her head even faster as a response, starting at your tip and taking every inch until she reaches the base of your shaft. Her lips are wrapped tightly as her tongue is flattened and presses against your underside. Her gaze never leaves your own, as if begging you to finally erupt.

You closed your eyes, afraid staring at Jisun sucking your cock for too long would make you cum right away. You tried to prolong the euphoric feeling as much as you could. Jisun continued to work between your legs, her hands massaging your balls as her wet tongue glided across the underside of your head.

“Fuck... Jisun, I’m about to cum”

Jisun bobs her head up and down your shaft, as your orgasm finally arrives. You feel it from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. Your hands immediately grip the back of Jisun’s head as your cock erupts. You send hot, thick semen down the woman’s mouth and throat.

Your body shivers slightly as you hold her head in place. Jisun’s mouth is wrapped tightly around your shaft as you continue to drain your balls inside her. As your orgasm begins to wind down, Jisun feels your grip on the back of her head begin to weaken. She lifts her head from between your legs, releasing your tip with a loud pop. As you open your eyes, you see Jisun stare at you. She opens her mouth, revealing her tongue and mouth painted with your cum.

Her gaze is dangerously erotic as she closes her mouth and swallows your load in two gulps. She tilts her head back to put on a show for you as you watch her throat pulse with your semen being pushed down. Opening her mouth once more and humming in satisfaction, she sticks her bright pink tongue at you, letting you see she has swallowed it all. Kissing your tip several more times to consume the last few trickles of cum, she giggles as you lean against the sink, exhausted.

“You tasted so good, master”

Just then the door opened, causing both of you to look at who entered.

“Did my oppa satisfy you?”

“He did, Saerom unnie. That’s not fair you’ve kept him away from us! Nakyung and Gyuri would love swallowing his cum” Jisun said, wiping her mouth.

“Why would I share him with you whores? He’s my boyfriend. I only let you use him since I felt bad you haven’t gotten laid in months” Saerom said, untying her apron as she crossed her arms.

“Hmph, whatever. And he wasn’t able to fuck me, so I still have another chance with him!”

“As if! I only gave you one chance, it’s not my fault you couldn’t stand when he told you he was going to fuck you”

Jisun pouted, stroking your cock softly.

“You’ll fuck me next time, right?”

#asks #fromis 9 #jisun

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marvellouslymadmim · 3 years

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Hey! Aspiring fanfic writer here; I was wondering if you could talk a bit about your writing/editing process and how long it all takes.

Thanks!

Welp, roughly the same extremely long amount of time it takes to actually answer an ask, tbh 🙃

So...I only know how my brain works, and I can only tell you what works for me might not work for you, and that's OK. I'm breaking into two separate bits, because I almost never do writing and editing at the same time.

And as far as a timeline, honestly it just depends. On life factors, what my hormones are doing at the time (jfc like the week before my period, I have zero creativity, motivation, or attention span), if I'm having trouble with a particular scene, if I'm getting consistent positive feedback (yes, I can totally admit that I write faster when I know a particular reviewer is following along with every update), etc.

WRITING:

First, you gotta just...be fixated, I guess. Particularly if it's an AU, I sit with it for a long time before I ever write a word. I go over scenes, think about how the world changes, what stays the same, what *has* to stay the same to keep the characters true to their canon personalities. I sit with the characters for a long time, too--not just the main characters, but the supporting cast, too. In order to predict someone's future, you have to know their past. Most of our present actions are actually reactions to past events, when you think about it. The better you know your version of the character, the easier every other aspect of writing will be. I don't know how it is for other people, but I don't ever "feel" like I'm writing. I feel like I'm "witnessing", and the characters are simply doing whatever they wish. (***this is gonna be a thing during the editing process, too, so hang on to that)

Then once I have a general idea, I choose a title. Generally, I do not even start a word document until I have a proper title to put on it. The title is part of the theme and aesthetic to me, and it grounds me in the overall arc.

Once that's done, it's time for outlining. I generally wait until I feel this weird almost tingling in my left arm (weirder still bc I'm right handed) and I'm practically vibrating with a need to WRITE THIS STORY NOW. Then I put on some Bear McCreary (honestly, any videogame soundtrack will do, as they are literally designed to help you maintain focus and keep pace) and fucking go to town. For me, it helps to do this with pen and paper, so that I can go back up and squiggle little notes in the margin, rearrange the order, etc, far faster than I could on a computer.

Important note: the outline is not the end-all be-all. Some things don't make it to the final print. Some minor storylines get tossed or characters simply...take a different path than I expect. I will continue re-writing and updating the outline as I go along. On average, I usually have 5-8 outlines per story, and they're often 3-10 pages long. I also have a posted outline, which is a log of all the scenes that did make it to the final product.

Then, it's the actual writing, at long last. I have found that I write best at the start of my day, before the noise and static of daily life comes in. So I wake up around 5am and spend 90minutes writing before beginning my workday routine. I have the Word app on my phone and may continue adding bits in throughout the day at work, if I get a moment. However, after 5pm my brain is usually fried and no more creativity happens. On weekends, I try to have one morning where I "sleep in" til 6am, and then write until at least 10am, sometimes 2pm, if I can get away with it.

The hardest part still is knowing when to transition and when to skip to the next chapter/scene/whatever. This is like...zero percent helpful, but I liken it to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's definition of pornography: "I know it when I see it." It may seem like a scene is circling, and sometimes it means you gotta leave the room a bit earlier bc the scene has already served its purpose. Other times, it means ya gotta stay with it a bit longer, because there's something the character is trying to say. Give them patience, and give yourself patience, too. Explore the scene and its dynamics. You won't know til you know and even then, sometimes you won't be entirely sure. That's ok, too. Part of the process. Remember editing will happen and you can decide then (hell, you can literally re-edit after it's been published, I've done that before too and added a note on the next chapter for any readers who might have read the first version 🤷🏻‍♀️ not ideal but still functional).

EDITING:

I do simple edits (spelling, grammar, etc) just about every morning as I reread what I wrote the day before, which is a refresher course for the day's writing session. But big "real" editing generally doesn't happen until right before posting.

Now, here's the ***issue from writing: sometimes, something just "doesn't work" in a scene. Again, you'll know it when you see it. The words a character is saying feels clunky. The pacing feels off. Something just...ain't right. More often than not, it means either I haven't truly sat with a character long enough to know their true motivations/backstory, or I am not giving characters the proper time/space/impediment to make the actions or say the things they're currently making/saying. I'm trying to force the flow, rather than letting it ebb and breathe when it needs to.

Absolute ProTip: You spent HOURS writing this scene. It's got some REALLY GOOD moments and lines in it. It doesn't work but you can't just delete it. It's your LIFE. I struggle with this A LOT, and I have found a solution: create a second "outtakes" document to cut and paste those scenes into. Sometimes I still keep moments or bits of dialog. Sometimes I later use bits in a later scene. Sometimes I never look at it again but I still feel secure in knowing that if I wanted to go back and use the original scene instead, I totally can. I don't think I've actually ever gone back to the original, tbh, but it reduced my anxiety about deleting the scene and starting over.

So back to the scene that doesn't work. I take it apart, figure out *at what exact point* it stops working, then work back up a few lines to see where the shift actually begins. More often than not, it's because I'm having characters express their feelings in ways they actually wouldn't. (people very very very rarely actually say what they're thinking/feeling, and you have to relay it in other ways). So I have to keep the internal monologue of what they're actually feeling/thinking, while figuring out how that actually translates via tone, body language, and what they do and don't say.

The "something ain't working stage" can take LITERAL WEEKS. I sometimes have to walk away for awhile, or tackle it only on days when I know I have hours upon hours to truly work on it. I keep circling back around, and eventually, the knot works itself out. Persistence, and insistence that "good enough" isn't actually good enough, are key. (this is why you have to fixated on the story you want to tell--because some days, it's going to take every ounce of that obsession to keep you going and keep you on the track of telling the story you wanted to tell, rather than settling or switching to an easier tack)

Sometimes, editing is a breeze. I don't change much, I may go a little more into the character's inner world here or there. Once you've been doing this for awhile, you'll just know when a story hits all its marks--and you'll also know when it's not, when it could be more or do more, and you can figure out how to get it there. There isn't a precise formula for it, it's more like cooking without an actual recipe to follow--a dash here, a bit there, you'll know it when you taste it.

And I'll leave you with this unsolicited bit: just write. Write often, write about everything, write what makes YOU passionate and happy, and absolutely write for yourself. Edit the fuck out of it, if you need to. Get a beta reader, if you need to. Get someone to just bounce ideas off, if you need to. And don't post it until you're truly ready and it's something you genuinely want to share. If someone gives constructive criticism, take in on the chin and move on (keep the notes, if you think they're valid, and toss em if you don't--you'll never be everyone's style of writer, so know that sometimes, people just won't be the target audience). Know that you'll grow and you'll learn and you'll find your own voice and like any skill, you'll develop a second nature about it--all those parts where I say "you'll know it when you see it" or "you'll feel it" absolutely come from spending a literal lifetime (28 years) writing stories, and thirteen years of writing fanfic in particular. It's ok if you don't see it or feel it right away. It takes practice. And you will have an audience at every skill level, no matter what (finding that audience? different story altogether...).

All totaled, this process can take anywhere from 3months to over a year. Stories are like children, I've found: they each develop at their own pace, and some may need more time and assistance than others. But they're still pretty wonderful. (except the bratty stories. they're the worst 🙄)

#thanks anon!#asks #writing asks #writing reference #i guess?#i hope it helps!!#fic writing

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trashassassin · 3 years

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Two Halves of a Whole | 6: Impressions and Honesty (Vergil x Reader)

LORDT. The original prompt that inspired this one was “hairbrush spankings” and the idea got completely away from me, but in a good way, I’d reckon. I swear to god I didn’t mean to make it this long, and yet, here we all are.

In this installment, you and Vergil finally begin to reconcile after the mysterious happenings that have yet to be named that I’m sure everyone has already figured out by now, with the help of everyone’s favorite beverage: red wine. Or my favorite, anyway.

Extremely heavy on the fluff. Like, this is on par with some of my Leon stuff, if I’m being honest.

Word Count: 4780 (jfc)

Warnings: Mild Language, Suggestive Themes, Sweet and Fluffy as Cotton Candy

At last, the day had come that Vergil would return to your apartment, only this time, not in a dream, as he had the previous time. You'd finally gotten him to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about what happened, in no small part due to Dante's incessant urgings.

You were aware that they had been selfishly motivated. The fact of the matter was, he simply couldn't take the two of you constantly hovering around each other any longer, waiting for the other to speak first.

You had also found yourself growing fed up with the whole thing, but Dante had you beat in the confrontation department by far, so he had been the first to speak up. And a part of you was glad that he did. But another part was terrified of where it would take you.

You were well aware of the fact that your coffee table had gotten suitably clean quite some time ago, and yet, you continued to rub the cloth over it as though a prize would pop out from its surface, stopping to glance up at the clock every so often.

How surprised you were to find that only another single minute had passed each time.

You'd been attempting to occupy your mind with meaningless tasks to stop it from racing. This would be the first time you would be properly alone with Vergil and this thought scared you, even if you weren't entirely sure why.

Your fear of confrontation definitely had a lot to do with it. Raw, honest conversation was no more a strong suit of yours than it was of his and you were worried that the two of you would spend the entire evening silently staring at the wall.

So, that was it. You were pacing around your apartment in terror, your heart beating out of your chest, because you were afraid of a bit of awkwardness.

Once you'd finally accepted the cleanliness of your furniture, you made a quick run upstairs to deposit the cleaning cloth into the laundry hamper before you forgot, because nothing would make him get fed up with you and go home like a single, out of place washcloth cluttering up your living space.

You rolled your eyes at your thought process, but if you left the cloth out, you knew that it would be the only thing you'd be able to focus on for the entire evening.

As you reached your bedroom, your mind was bombarded with another slew of issues.

Was it inviting enough? It had been a long time since you'd had anyone up there, so making it presentable wasn't at the forefront of your mind anymore. But it was a bit presumptuous of you to act as though he was going to see it, wasn't it? Was it even advisable for the two of you to sleep together at this point?

You suddenly had a great many questions, none of which anyone, least of all yourself, could give you an answer to.

You would have to play this entire thing by ear. There was no guide you could follow, and there was certainly no way you could predict his reactions to anything given the way he'd been behaving thus far.

Still, you decided it couldn't hurt to tidy up your room a bit just in case. You even brought out the scented candles again for the first time in quite a while and lit one before heading back downstairs.

You were reasonably satisfied that everything was in order, though you were sure that you would find something that was out of place after he'd arrived.

You had to stop and consider what your end goal was here. It wasn't as though it were necessary to impress him. If anything, he should be the one scrambling to make a good impression on you.

And yet, even after everything that had happened, all of your worries boiled down to the simple fear that he wouldn't like you anymore. You found him a bit intimidating now, even if it was irrational. For all intents and purposes, he was the same person he had been, but you found yourself questioning more often than you would have liked if you were still worthy of him. He was so powerful and you were so, well, ordinary, and that was a fact about you that would never change.

You did want to impress him; you wanted that very much. But you were also afraid of overdoing it. You didn't want to appear desperate.

You were even considering whether or not preparing a meal would be seen as excessive. Surely, that was the polite thing to do whenever one was expecting guests, so you put your insecurities aside in favor of common sense.

You'd hardly eaten anything all day, given the fact that your nerves had your stomach tied in knots, so this would benefit you as well as him. There wasn't a whole lot that sounded palatable right now, so you would have to decide on a dish that you had the ingredients for and would also be able to force down once it was finished.

You opened the fridge and sighed. How long had it been since you'd gone grocery shopping? Much too long, clearly. Such mundane tasks had fallen by the wayside as of late.

But, you did have a few things left. As you examined the ingredients before you, you came up with a plan. Spaghetti would be good. It was inoffensive, mindless, and not too showy.

You took out everything you would need—a package of ground beef, which you made sure to sniff in case it had gone off, a couple of onions, and some bell peppers—then brought them over to the counter so that you could begin to prepare them.

As you went to close the fridge, you noticed something else that may be of use to you: a bottle of red wine that you'd purchased quite some time ago sitting atop its surface. You'd never been much of a drinker, but you figured that there had never been a more appropriate time than now to break it open.

Perhaps this was a bit shameful, but at this point, you would have done just about anything to take the edge off while you waited.

You opened the bottle and poured yourself a glass, then got to work.

Cooking was typically a relaxing activity for you, one of several hobbies that whisked you away from the outside world, if only temporarily, but on this particular evening, it had no such effect. You took a large gulp of your wine and considered your options.

Perhaps some music would help. You lifted your phone and scrolled through it a bit to find a playlist that would set you more at ease.

You went with something instrumental before returning your attention back to your chopping.

You took a sideways glance at the clock on the stove once you'd finished with the onion. You still had a good thirty minutes left, and you weren't sure if this should make you feel relieved or concerned. What you did feel, however, was a healthy mix of both.

At least you wouldn't have to rush through your cooking.

You were already beginning to feel the effects of the wine once you'd finished chopping all of the vegetables. Your heart had stopped racing, at least, but you were beginning to worry about embarrassing yourself by the time you'd finished the entire glass.

But, as you thought about it more, you supposed the time for embarrassment was over. The two of you had already been brutally honest with each other and you figured that there wasn't much either of you could say at this point that would drive the other away.

You tried to convince yourself of this as you continued with your cooking.

Is spaghetti too boring? What if he doesn't like it? Does he even need to eat? I've never seen him eat before. Dante definitely seems to like eating. But what if he only does it because he wants to appear more human?

You slammed your utensils down on the counter and took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax. You were going to survive even in the event that he didn't enjoy your spaghetti.

But it wasn't about the spaghetti, and you knew that. You recognized that your choice of what to serve for dinner was much less consequential than, well, everything else, so it was much easier to give that all of your focus as it was something you could easily control.

You set the ground beef on the stove to brown, then finished off your glass of wine and contemplated getting another. No, you would save that for when he arrived, if he wanted one as well. You didn't want to be the only one drinking, and you certainly didn't want to be the only one drunk.

What would that be like? You had a lot of difficulty imagining a scenario in which Vergil would have the time, let alone the desire, to get drunk and you were very curious as to how such a thing would affect him.

You almost wished you'd asked Dante for advice before going through with this, but realized that you never would have, even when you had the opportunity to do so. You had too much pride for that, which you accepted as one of your weaker points. So much of your current dilemma would be easily solved by speaking up and asking the right questions.

You promised yourself that you would finally start doing this when you saw Vergil tonight.

The dinner preparations were going exactly according to plan and you were relieved that you'd managed to finish everything up with a little over five minutes to spare. You were even more relieved that you'd managed to make it all the way through without going for a second glass of wine.

You'd mixed together a salad while the sauce was cooking and were in the process of setting everything up on the coffee table when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

"Just a second," you called out.

He'd arrived exactly at your agreed upon time and not a single second before or after, so you were glad that you'd given yourself so much leeway in getting everything prepared.

You finished up the last of these preparations, then took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

You weren't exactly sure what you had been expecting to see on the other side, apart from the obvious, but you were immediately struck by just how ordinary he looked standing there. He was wearing much more average clothes now, his outfit consisting of a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of dark jeans.

So, he hadn't lost his propensity for all black clothing. This amused you, but you tried not to show it.

"Hi," you said, and he simply nodded in response. "Uh, come in."

You motioned him inside and he stepped across the threshold, still not saying a single word, or even taking a moment to acknowledge you.

Yes, the wine had been a good idea after all, it would seem.

"I made dinner, if you're hungry." You stood beside the coffee table and stared down at it. "To be honest, I didn't know if you guys eat, but I didn't want to be rude by not making anything."

You looked up at him and the expression on his face suggested that you'd offended him.

"I didn't mean-" This was going poorly already. "Not that there would be anything wrong with that. I just didn't want to make it weird."

Clearly, you were failing on that front.

He took a seat on the end of the couch and simply said, "Yes, we do eat."

You took the seat beside him and continued to stare at the coffee table as though it would be able to offer you a way out of this.

"I have wine too, if you'd like some," you said.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

His response relieved you somewhat as it gave you an excuse to finally pour yourself a second glass.

You poured one for each of you and held yours in your hand, while his remained untouched along with his food.

"Look, I'm sorry," you said.

Was he still offended about the food thing? Surely there was some way you could get him to open up.

He finally glanced your way.

"Why are you the one apologizing?" he asked.

"I don't know," you said. "Maybe because you're acting like you don't wanna be here?"

He shook his head.

"I was actually a bit surprised when you agreed to meet me on these terms," he said.

"Well, I didn't even think you wanted to see me again, so that makes two of us."

"No, I wanted that very much."

He lifted the fork from the plate in front of him and began to poke at the noodles upon it. Was he nervous? You found the idea somewhat laughable.

"You could've fooled me," you said, and you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. "I mean, you have to understand why I feel that way."

"Yes," he said. He continued to stab at his noodles without lifting any of them from their place. "I am aware that I can be a bit difficult."

A bit?

You managed to hold your tongue this time. It would not behoove you to make fun of him; he was trying, and you had to give him credit for that.

"Well, thank you for making it out here," you said.

"Thank you for having me."

He set down his fork at last and inched just a bit closer to you, looking as though he wanted to say something else.

Instead, he returned his attention back to the plate and finally took a bite of the food you'd prepared. You held your breath as you awaited his assessment of it.

"Did you make this?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied.

"It's good."

"Thank you."

You could've cut the tension hanging over your living room with a knife.

"Are you going to eat?" he asked.

You shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said. "I'm not that hungry."

His lips curled into a nearly imperceptible smile.

"So, you made all this food for me?" he asked.

This was your moment to make good on the promise of honesty you'd made to yourself earlier.

"Honestly?" you said, and your stomach flipped. "I've been really nervous about this whole thing."

"About seeing me?" he asked. The smile was still there. "How foolish."

"I know that. I don't know, I just get so worried that I'm gonna mess this up somehow."

He turned to look at you with an expression of disbelief.

"I know," you repeated. "It's not rational. I just… Well, I like having you around and I don't wanna lose you again."

Even under your pledge of honesty, you weren't quite ready to express the extent of your romantic feelings for him. After a few more glasses of wine, perhaps, but not as things stood at the present moment.

"That's certainly not something I hear very often," he said.

"Well, I mean it," you said.

You just couldn't take this distance anymore. You hadn't allowed him to come here so that the two of you could have a polite chat. The evening was turning out exactly as you'd feared and you had to do something.

And so, without another word, you leaned toward him and rested your head against his shoulder.

Part of you expected him to push you away or to ask what the hell you were doing, but instead, he simply allowed it.

It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from your chest and suddenly, you weren't feeling quite so anxious anymore. And you felt that he had relaxed somewhat as well, his shoulder noticeably loosening the moment you touched it.

This was all that you truly wanted. In that moment, you realized that all of the anxiety you'd felt while getting your apartment ready had been an illusion created by your mind to distract you from the truth: you simply wanted to see him and to spend time with him, no matter what form that took. But, deep down, you feared that none of the things you could come up with would be enough for him.

You leaned a little closer and nuzzled his neck.

"I'm glad Dante didn't kill you," you said.

"I'm pretty pleased with that fact myself," he said.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

That simple, lighthearted exchange had dissolved so much of the tension in the room that you felt your anxiety starting to melt away, and your appetite began to return at last.

* * *

Once the two of you had finished eating, you found yourself faced with the entirely new, albeit much less significant, question of whether or not you were going to invite him to spend the night.

Things had been going well thus far. You'd managed to keep them from becoming awkward again, so it wouldn't be an inappropriate question. And he didn't seem to be making a rush to leave at the moment.

You came up with a few different ways to ask, all of which condensed down into, "I'm starting to feel pretty tired."

"I see," he said. "Then, I suppose I should be going now."

You reached out your hand toward his arm in an attempt to stop him from heading out the door.

"Wait!" you called. "I mean, I'm sure you're tired too, and you've been drinking, so it's probably not a good idea for you to drive home right now."

"I metabolize alcohol more quickly than a human would."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he making excuses to leave or was he truly that dense?

You sighed and tried again.

"What I'm trying to say is," you said. "Would you like to spend the night at my place?"

It was as though a light bulb had flicked on behind his eyes as soon as he'd processed what you'd said.

"Oh," he said. "Yes, I would like that, if you're sure."

"Yes, I'm sure. I asked you three times."

"Did you?"

You rolled your eyes. So he was that dense after all. You made a mental note to be more upfront with your propositions in the future.

"Yes, I did," you said. "I'm gonna get ready for bed now, so feel free to join me whenever."

You started up the stairs and weren't at all surprised when he didn't follow you. If he continued down his current trajectory, you feared he would try to sleep on the couch to be polite.

Still, you'd managed to get your message through to him in the end. At least your efforts to straighten up your bedroom hadn't proven themselves to be a waste.

You began your usual nightly routine and had almost made it all the way through by the time Vergil had joined you upstairs. If it weren't for his reflection in the mirror in front of you, you never would have noticed him, as his footsteps were completely silent. He walked into the room and stopped just in front of your closet, then stared at it as though it confounded him in some way. You finished up brushing your teeth, then went to see if there was anything you could assist him with.

"Looking for something?" you asked as you poked your head out of the bathroom.

"I wasn't expecting this, so I didn't pack anything with me," he replied. "Would it be out of line to ask to borrow some of your clothes? I'd rather not sleep in this."

"Sure, that's fine. If you can find something that fits, that is."

You went to join him in front of the closet in order to help him look. You did have a number of oversized shirts that you liked to wear to bed, so perhaps he would be able to find something suitable among them.

He was taking his time in making a selection, so you decided to choose one for him.

"How's this one?" you asked.

You took a navy blue t-shirt from its hanger and held it out toward him. He took it from your hand and draped it over the front of his body.

"It may be a bit tight," he said.

"Well, I didn't exactly have your body in mind when I bought them, now did I?"

He shot you a sideways look, but tucked the shirt under his arm anyway. You then made another selection, a pair of plain sweatpants that had always been slightly too big for you.

"Thank you," he said.

With that handled, you returned to the bathroom to continue getting ready for bed and he began to change into the clothes that you had given him.

You were on the very last stage of your routine, which involved finally letting down and brushing out your hair. You'd put it up in a simple bun as part of your attempt to impress him, so you got to work removing all of the bobby pins you'd stuck in it, accepting the fact that you would likely continue to find them after you'd woken up the next day.

As you leaned closer to the mirror, it became apparent that you had a very clear view of Vergil in the reflection within it. You made a half-hearted attempt not to stare, but in between extracting bobby pins, you could stop yourself from glancing back.

His clothes may have been perfectly ordinary, but his body underneath them was anything but, which hadn't been apparent to you when it was mostly hidden beneath the thick fabric of the sweater. He was still facing toward the closet as he changed and you found yourself transfixed as you watched the muscles of his back flex with every movement.

Even when you had long since run out of bobby pins, you found that you couldn't tear your eyes away. He had been right; your shirt was way too tight for him, particularly in the shoulder region, and it only served to emphasize his shape all the more.

He put on the sweatpants and abruptly turned, prompting you to scramble in order to make it look as though you had been doing something other than shamelessly ogling him.

You made a grab for the hairbrush beside the sink and began to brush out your hair, perhaps a bit too aggressively to be convincing.

He walked back toward the bathroom and hovered behind you as he examined the outfit you'd given him.

"You're right, that shirt is way too tight for you," you said. You turned around to get a better look at him. "Not that that's a bad thing."

Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine in your system, or perhaps you were feeling emboldened by the positive turn the evening had taken, but regardless, you found that you were unable to resist the urge that came over you.

"My clothes look pretty good on you," you said. "Dare I say, you wear those pants even better than I do."

You walked around behind him and, without a word, smacked his ass with the hairbrush you still held in your hand.

His body tensed and he froze in place.

Oh no.

Had you actually upset him? His eyes shot toward you and you weren't exactly sure what to make of his expression.

He stared you down for a moment, then said, "give me that," as he made a grab for the brush.

You somehow managed to move it out of his reach just in time. His second attempt was equally unsuccessful and you ducked beneath his hand, then took off running back out into your room.

"Give it to me!" he said.

It came out as an order, but his tone was noticeably playful, removing the lingering concern that you'd caused any actual offense.

He took off after you and paused just before you, freezing you beneath the door frame, blocking your path further out into the room.

"Make me," you returned, and you ducked beneath his arm before running back toward the bed.

You were forced to stop again in order to avoid tripping on his clothes, which were now in a pile on the floor, and he took the opportunity to tackle you.

"You're gonna regret that," he said, his breath tickling your ear as he pinned you down against the mattress and began grabbing at your wrist.

In spite of all of your flailing, he finally got a good grip and brought it to a stop, then wrenched the brush free from your grasp with the other hand. As your body stilled and you turned to look up at him, you realized that he was laughing.

For the first time since you'd known him, he appeared to be genuinely happy.

You smiled as well, and giggled at the sight of him holding the hairbrush triumphantly over your head.

"You're ridiculous," you said.

"I'm ridiculous?"

He sat upright and placed the hairbrush onto your nightstand.

"Just can't let me win anything, can you?" you asked.

You sat up as well and placed your head on his shoulder.

"I have my dignity," he said. He sat quietly for a moment, then continued, "I can't thank you enough for having me over tonight."

"I'm glad you came back," you said. "I really did miss you, you know."

He took hold of your right hand and held it to his chest.

"I was beginning to think that you would never find it in your heart to forgive me," he said. "Not that I really deserve it."

"Oh, hush," you kissed his cheek. "What's done is done. You can't erase what you did. All you can do is keep moving forward, and that's what you're doing, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right."

You brought your left hand up to match the right and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"There will be more than enough time to talk about this tomorrow," you said. "For now, let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded and you stood to turn off the light, then extinguished the candle before settling back into the bed.

"Water under the bridge," you said. "I promise I'm not gonna lord this over you, or anything like that."

"I wouldn't hold it against you if you did," he said.

"Well, I'm not going to."

You crawled under the blanket and laid down on your side.

As soon as you closed your eyes, you realized just how exhausted you'd become. The adrenaline rush of the chase had masked it for a bit and it was all coming crashing down on you now.

You had just about drifted off to sleep when you felt him move a bit closer and work his arms beneath yours, wrapping them around you.

"I know you're probably asleep," he whispered. "But." He sighed. "You've been so good to me, from the very beginning. I don't think I could ever offer you a suitable repayment for everything you've done for me." There was a rather lengthy pause, and then, "you've shown me that, perhaps, humans can be kind after all."

You had to smile at this. Even now, he was too ashamed to share his true feelings with you. You considered allowing him to believe that you truly were asleep, but instead, you turned over toward him and took his face in your hands.

"That's really sweet," you said.

Even in the darkness, you could see him turning red.

"I didn't know you were still awake," he said.

"Clearly." You smiled. "It's okay. You can be honest with me. I promise I won't judge you."

You gave a large yawn and snuggled up to his chest.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said.

And so, all of your fears had proven themselves to be unfounded. Perhaps you could find a way to make this work after all.

It was with this thought in mind that you finally began to drift off to sleep, soothed by it and by the feel of his arms around you. It just felt right, like this was the way things were supposed to be all along, even if it took a while for them to get there.

You could rest assured that, tonight, he was still going to be there by the time you awoke the next morning.

#vergil x reader #dmc #dmc5 #dmc vergil #vergil #writing #fanfiction #fluff #like big fluffy clouds on a summer day #lordt #reader insert #alcohol #tw: alcohol

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bipedalseal · 3 years

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re: playing orlok's route; hahaha where do i even start? unexpectedly, it was a very long run. it didn't end at chapter 5 as i expected, probably bc i didnt pick the obey yang option. expectedly, it was a bad end. exoectedly, it was like a dante bad end. unexpectedly, i didn't get bored. can you believe i got like 5 bad ends in this run? my route progress is 40% now! in one run

it was also a while before i got to play this again. my sisters busy with some drawing project os i havent been allowed near her laptop lately and she discovered a new pc game (the ace attornsy prequel). she's been in a good mood bc of that game tho

1. i didnt predict that rosberg would be orlok's actual dad..? yknow considering that he seemed to neglect orlok emotionally. tho im not surprised that he had a son. most ppl have a hard time staying celibate anyway, like u tout sex as the ultimate form of love between a man and a woman and expect ppl not to want that lol (obviously the solution would be to take away the stigma regarding sex but idk, not a theologist). honestly i thought that "rosberg being a shite parental figure" would trump the "hes actually my dad card", but still. the writers are okay with anti-church sentiments but not anti-filial piety... interesting.

2. yang dying and the laoshu disbanding seems like an inevitability in nearly every ending. which i suppose doesn't go against his character? i wondee what happened to make him not value his own life like that. its very interesting.

3. the voice acting. iT SLAPPED HARD. admittedly i am talking abt yang during his final moments, bc why not. something weird occured during that, actually--i was playing on earphones that only worked on one side. But during yang's Evil Monologue, like the first fucking word he said, it suddenly started working in both ears. i got chills man. it was also chilly at the time. nobuhiko okamoto's stuff never ceases to disappoint me. kaito ishikawa was ngl his delivery... stop making me wanna learn voice acting my girls. i lowkey wish the mc had a voice too. esp during the pg13 scenes. thatd sound sexy.

4. speaking of pg13 scenes, um.

5. this run was a bad end for orlok as much as it was for dante, yeah? only difference is that orlok is the protag and dante is the antagonist. interestingly, orlok showed signs of turning his back on his old ways (and god in turn) when the thing with luca and yang and rosberg happened and he said nope. i think on the other hand started throwing his morals away the moment nicola got buried. that moment when he could finally make his move, that was when he was like, "fuck it, im gonna avenge everyone and do what i want in the process". then dante got a leg over orlok and victor (figuratively and literally, respectively) by using the visconti. i wonder what got gilbert to do that though. surely he must have known that orlok was gonna kill him? whyd he sacrifice himself for dante??

6. i feel like luca dying had something to do with the laoshu. poisoning, maybe?

7. ill be honest the romance here didn't really capture my attention. i was looking for something more, uh, fucked up maybe? but the writer's attitude towards religion and the church did. it felt really self-aware. im also not surprised that orlok killed victor in one of his bad ends. i didnt really have faith in his ability to question his faith. im surprised that the writer managed ti capture the feeling of questioning the church."if i dont obey him now, then my whole life would be a lie" and "give me a reason to kill him, say its an order by god, anything" had me thinking back to my pre-apostasy days. idk, i expected less from a visual novel with a largely catholic backdrop. my expectations have been nicely surpassed.

8. back to the pg13 scenes. its AMAZINGLY amazing. maybe im just horny? idk. i rlly think inserting a scene like that then wouldhave been perfect. like there was a scene of someone's ear getting cut off for fucks sake (which ngl could have gone on for longer than it canonically did, to my squeamish self's disgust). or at least some soft description of the scene could have been used like "he held me down and forced his way in, smiling as i struggled. i finally stopped resisting after the moon began descending from her crest. that smile turned into full laughter. still orlok's cries were the loudest in my ears." pr something. like UGH. sex isnt inherently bad my friends!! unless u use it as a way to violate other ppl like in this situation.... ..... ..... i still think sex scenes can provide amazing symbolism tho. honestly its amazing i can stand reading and writing um adult relationship scenes when i cant stand to read a description of a man's thigh getting stabbed. or seeing a dead body. jfc.

not sure what ill do after this. still havent finished dante and nicola's route 100% and orlok's route, i missed a bad end i think. think ill go for the bad end that i missed, then ill take a short break by digesting something fluffy (aka the ace attorney game where payne is japanese! jfc!). lets see when i can liveblog again.

#mine #piofiore spoilers #piofiore liveblogging #dante #orlok #yang #me gaming #long post #long post cw

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 4 years

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Hey you! Ok how about Pedro’s characters and the first time they wink at you. ILY and thank you 🙈

Hey babes! I simultaneously love and hate you for this ask because jfc winking irl is so fucking skeezy but, as with a lot of things I previously thought I despised, when Pedro does it I get a little weak in the knees lol. So now I have an excuse to comb through every gif of him winking. You know. For research. For SCIENCE. (Under the cut, cause fucking HELL. This got loooooong.)

(Gif made by @djjarindin )

Whiskey- On your very first day as a Statesman you make the dubious acquaintance of Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels. You’re standing at the window of your new office, flipping one of your knives in the air idly, when a handsome man in tight blue jeans and a black Stetson saunters in without so much as a by your leave. His grin is lazy, charming, and you acknowledge, in the deepest recesses of your hind brain, incredibly enticing.

“Well howdy there, darling,” he greets, thumbs hooked in the front of his belt, drawing your gaze to- is that a flask on his belt buckle? His mustache twitches up on one side as he notices that your eyes landed exactly where he had intended.

“Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing playing with those pig stickers? You could hurt yourself with knives like that.” He steps closer to you, one hand leaving his belt to brace against the window next to your head so he can lean further into your space.

“Probably the same thing you’re doing playing with those pistols you’ve got under your jacket or that lasso at your hip,” you reply coolly, not backing away from his intrusion into your space. His raises his and he huffs a laugh through his nose.

“Well touché, kitten.” He bends a little at his knees to catch your eyes better and suggests softly in a voice that 90% of you demands you to listen to, “How’s about you and I get outta here and I can give you a tour of the place? Maybe, show you the ropes?” And he then winks at you.

That last 10% of your willpower has something to say to his blatant attempt at getting into your pants.

You slap him.

Javier Peña- You had been warned by more than one person that feminism hadn’t really made its way to Columbia yet when you accepted the portion to field agent and transferred down to the DEA office in Bogota. It was 1990 however, and you kind of expected the Americans you worked with to at least be a little more on board with the times.

That was on you, men were men it seemed, American or Columbian.

The tall blond who introduced himself as Murphy seemed nice enough, he was friendly and a little distracted, and he sounded almost apologetic as he led you further into the office to meet the other member of your team.

“Well hello there, sugar,” a man a couple of inches shorter than Steve greeted you from where he had been leaning on a desk by the door. He stood up straight and sauntered- there was really no other word for how pants that tight made a man walk- closer to the two of you, a wide smile stretched his mustache over his handsome face and showed off the dimples in his cheeks.

Oh lord. One of those men.

“Javi this is-“ Murphy started, clearly trying to diffuse a potential situation but the man interrupted him, and his hand reached for yours, holding it a little longer than necessary.

“A girl too pretty for your married ass to be talking to, Steve.” He still had your hand in between his two large warm ones and you filed that information away for use at a later, much more solitary time. He had the audacity to wink at you and you sighed and rolled your eyes. Ah well.

“I’m your new partner.” Guess feminism still has some strides to make no matter what the nationality of idiot male.

Ezra- You had been stuck on this interminably brown moon for a week and you were going stir crazy. You and your still new partner had landed in a manner that was less than gentle or correct on this nameless rock, and not only was your landing gear bent at an angle a university mathematician would have trouble describing, Ezra couldn’t get the damn thing to start again.

You weren’t any sort of mechanic by nature, that was one of the things he brought to the table, so until Ezra managed to repair whatever was wrong with this hunk of junk the two of you were still paying off, you were stuck sitting on your hands doing nothing. You had no particular desire to go traipsing around this rock by yourself, protection was one of the other things the man added to your partnership, as you had learned early in your mining career that that generally did not end well for people like you.

So there you sat, bored, listening to the click and clank of Ezra’s tools as he did whatever it was that you needed to do to get an impulse engine working enough to take off and dock to an FTL vessel. And listening to Ezra’s constant talking.

He was currently telling you a rather long winded, even for him and that was saying something, story about how an old partner of his woke up every morning and sanitized the floor of their pod with antibac spray before he would let any of the other four men set foot on it.

“The gentleman in question was a rather odd duck, badger,” he called out to you from half way inside the pod. “Why, in all my years and in all my travels in the black, I must avow never having seen someone so resolved on keeping the extremities of his associates so unsullied. I never cognized if his time running the stars had finally fractured his wits and this was the inevitable concomitant of a life lived as we do, or if it was a tic peculiar to him for all of his life. Still and all, one advantage I did discover at the conclusion of that particular venture: the bottoms of my socks never have been cleaner.”

An unexpectedly loud guffaw punched its way out of your mouth and you dropped the flat rock you had been attempting to balance on a piece of the aforementioned broken landing equipment. Unfortunately, Ezra decided at that exact time to shimmy his way out from under your craft and instead of falling harmlessly back to the ground where you had found it, it bounced off of his rather distracting ass on its way down.

He stopped moving and you were about to apologize, you really hadn’t meant to basically throw a rock at him, no matter how much he annoyed you at times, when you heard his voice float up to you again, a little amused, and a little something else that you had had occasion to notice a few times before but had never thought to classify.

“Badger, did you just take your hand to my ass?” You felt your face flush and wondered if this planet’s atmosphere wasn’t as hospitable to humans as you had thought.

“What?!” You squeaked, voice cracking when it hit a pitch normally very much out of your range.”No! I just dropped a rock!” You heard him chuckle from your feet and refused to look at him as he shuffled all the way out from under to pod and stood to his full height in front of you. He chucked you under the chin and finally you looked up into his eyes.

“Because darling, I strongly advocate any physical contact that you might desire to have with any part of my body you so wish, at any time of your choosing,” he told you with a wink.

Catfish- You had moved to Texas to take up residence on the ranch your grandfather had left you, not out of any real desire to take up the cowboy life. You hated how hot it was, you hated how slowly everyone talked, you hated how big the entire goddamned state was, and if one more goddamned truck managed to take up three goddamned parking spaces at the grocery store one more time you were going to throw a temper tantrum that would make all their southern asses wish they had managed to secede.

That was how you had met Catfish (”No that isn’t my real name; no one but my mama calls me Francisco”). He had been the next asshole in a truck to take up more than what your space conscious Yankee ass had deemed his due.

“Listen ma’am-”

“Don’t you “ma’am” me, how old are you implying I look?!”

“Sorry, miss, if you’re gonna holler at me, could we step a little further away from the truck? I just got that baby to sleep, and if she wakes up starts cryin’ again, I think I’m gonna start too.”

After a meet cute like that, it was inevitable that the two of you would hit it off as well as you did, and so a year later saw you still in a state that you were convinced was trying to kill you (hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, Republicans, and rattlesnakes???), stretched out on Catfish’s beat up couch, more than a little drunk, and a lot happier than when you had left New York to come here.

Catfish set both new bottles of beer down on the coffee table in front of you and smiled down at you with that big grin that summoned both the dimples in his cheeks and made you feel like your heart was growing four sizes larger inside your chest. He took off his ever present beat up baseball cap and tossed it on your lap. His hair was simultaneously flattened and a mess and you were sure he couldn’t look more handsome in this moment if he had an army of Hollywood stylists attack him.

He reached down to he hem of his grey Henley and started to pull it up.

“Whoa there cowboy!” You exclaimed with a grin, sitting up and plopping his hat onto your head for safe keeping. “I didn’t realize I was getting a show when I came over here!” He stopped with his shirt half way off his torso and looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked.

“It’s hot as goddamned balls in here, baby, and I’m wearin’ two of these things. One of ‘em at least is comin’ off.” He pulled it off the rest of the way and straightened his first layer that had attempted to escape with its compatriot before reaching down and grabbing his hat off of your head and flopping onto the couch next to you.

“Hey Fish, how long do you think we have before the baby wakes up?” He shrugged, his head rolling on the back of the couch o face you.

“I dunno, darlin’, why do you ask?” You bit your lip and smiled up at him, playing with the fingers of the hand he had settled on your thigh.

“Oh, well, you know how watching you nearly get stuck in your shirts really does it for me.” He groaned and slapped your leg lightly as you laughed.

“I think we’ve got time for whatever you want baby. Helicopter pilots can go straight up pretty fast you know.” He told you with a wink that you were sure was supposed to be alluring.

Oberyn Martell- The first thing you consciously noticed about Dorne was that it was hot. This was a kind of inescapable heat that permeated your entire body and made you feel like you were cooking from the inside out. You had never before given much thought to what it would feel like to be put into an oven and roasted alive, but without a doubt this is was that feeling. When you went back home to White Harbor you weren’t ever going to complain about the cold ever again.

The second thing you noticed when you put into port in Sunspear- a city quite a bit smaller than most of the cities of the upper six kingdoms the Manderlys sent your father to trade with- was that no one seemed to be wearing a lot of clothes. Which you supposed made sense because you were positively dying in yours.

You quickly changed into a pair of your brother’s breeches and a loose shirt before practically running off the ship and into the dusty warrens of the Shadow City below the walls of the Martell’s castle, eager to stretch your legs after weeks at sea and eat something other than hard tac and salted meat and fish. You figured you had at least a few hours before you would be expected to accompany your father to the castle to haggle about prices for wood and iron and silks and citrus.

The air only got hotter the further from the sea breeze you walked, and as you meandered the twisting and winding bazaars all you could smell were foreign spices and perfumes. Your head was on a swivel trying to take in the sights and sounds of a market radically different from any you had seen before when you walked into a silk covered shoulder. The shoulder belonged to a man nearly a foot taller than you and you wouldn’t have stood a chance at remaining on your feet if two strong arms hadn’t shot out and wrapped around your waist, dragging you back from your rather embarrassing descent to the dusty street and into a warm solid chest.

“I normally have to put in at least some effort in order to sweep someone off their feet, it must be my lucky day that you seem to have decided to do all the hard work for me,” an amused, accented voice said from above you. You felt every word from where your ear was plastered to the bare skin of his chest, his yellow and orange robes belted loosely enough to leave most of his golden skin exposed. You felt your face flush as you shuffled your feet, trying to get them back under you in a way that would allow you to stand and not fall on your face. The man set you back from him gently and you finally looked up

Your savior was beautiful. There wasn’t any other word to describe a face with deep set, smiling eyes that were so deep a brown you really had to look to distinguish his pupils. His nose was curved and prominent, his jaw covered with the same black hair that was cropped closer to his head than you were used to seeing in the North. And his lips were too pretty for a man. They spread into a smile as his eyes met yours, dimples appearing in his cheeks and you were smiling back before you realized it.

“Now,” he said, eyes still laughing. “You are either the worst pick pocket I’ve ever encountered or clearly too taken with the sights around you to be trusted to walk unescorted.” You hoped he never stopped speaking. His voice was deep and rich and at the same time soft and musical and no one in the woods and wilds where you had grown up spoke like he did.

“Uh, yes,” you stuttered and felt your ears burn as he smiled wider, eyebrows in danger of disappearing into his hair. “I mean, no, I’m not a pick pocket! I just, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, my apologies.” You stuttered stepping further back from him, hoping maybe some more distance would restore your ability to not make an ass out of yourself in front of this handsome stranger. “Thanks for you know,” you featured vaguely at the ground.

“Oh, you’re very welcome for ‘you know’,” the man replied, somehow injecting a completely different meaning to your innocuous words than you had intended. Your face could have been used to light a campfire by now. You needed to get back and get changed before you did something truly stupid.

“Okay, well, um, sorry, again, for walking into you,” you said, backing away. “But uh, I’ve got to, uh, go...” You sort of waved and took off back the way you came, taking care not to run into any more handsome strangers.

You made it back to the ship in time for your father to lecture you about how dangerous it was to just run off in a “city full of wild Dornishmen! Don’t think that because you’re dressed like a man you’d be safe! That ‘sort of thing’ is common here, daughter!” while you dressed in clothes more suitable to both your station and a meeting with the ruling house of the kingdom.

It was somehow cooler within the sandstone walls of the castle, and you amused yourself on the walk up to the raised dais by listening to the different sounds your company’s boots made on the marble floor.

There was a woman sitting on a carved wooden seat and a tall dark haired man standing behind her, leaning indolently against her chair at the top of the steps you and your father stopped at. You listened to your father make the appropriate greetings, hoping that they could come to favorable terms of trade for items and goods they all wanted. And you felt someone staring at you. You looked up at the young woman in the chair as your father introduced you and you smiled and curtsied less gracefully than your mother would have liked. Your father turned his face to the man behind the chair and began to repeat the introduction when a familiar laughing voice interurrupted,

“Oh, I believe we’ve met already, haven’t we, little pick pocket?” Your eyes snapped up from the marble floor to lock onto those dancing brown eyes from earlier this morning. You felt your jaw drop and your face turn what you were sure was a very unattractive shade of crimson as Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne grinned and winked at you.

Din- You had been flying with the Mandalorian and his tiny green baby for about a month when you decided that hyperspace was boring and if you wanted any amusement you would have to take a page out of the little man’s book and make your own fun. You knew that stealing pieces of the ship and hiding them would not be as cute as when the baby did it, so that was out. You weren’t a tall person, but you were still bigger than the green terror so playing hide and seek was pretty close to useless. You were grasping at straws until suddenly it hit you like one of the utensils that the tiny monster liked to levitate around the cabin.

You were going to get Mando to laugh.

You had absolutely no idea how you were going to accomplish this, or even any idea at all what a near silent warrior monk that you were still not a hundred percent convinced wasn’t a droid would find funny, so you decided to just do what you did best; you opened your mouth and let the word vomit out.

You didn’t shut up. If you were awake and not actively hunting someone, you were talking. The baby seemed to enjoy the new amount of noise and animation, but thus far you had only gotten a few sighs and what you thought were exasperated glares from your adult companion. At least, you figured they were glares. His helmet turned to face you and frankly, you were beginning to even get on your own nerves, so he was almost definitely glaring at you under that beskar.

This went on for four days straight until one day the three of you were sitting in the cockpit, watching the stars zip by, and you decided to narrate yourself drinking a glass of water. You had just gotten to the swallowing part and were attempting to put into words what that felt like when he turned around to face you.

“If one more word comes out of your mouth I will cut into into small enough pieces that the baby won’t notice it’s a human that he is eating for dinner tonight.”

You choked. And you definitely spat water all over the visor of his helmet.

You coughed and stared at him, terrified, not sure if these were going to be your last few seconds as a breathing creature, but sure that if they were you at least had the image of the Mandalorian with water and spit sliding down the front of his helmet to console you.

All three of you sat in silence for at least a minute before he leaned forward very slowly. You leaned as far back as your seat would allow.

“That was a joke,” he told you, voice warm despite the crackle of his modulator. “You can’t see it, but I just winked.”

Screw making him mad. You were going to kill the Mandalorian.

Tovar- This was officially one of the worst ways that you could think of to die. You sure that if you were given a few more minutes, and a few less spears pointed in your face to distract you, you could surely come up with at least five different ways that were, in fact, worse, but right now, this seemed pretty awful and didn’t seem likely to get any better.

“I need you to trust me,” your companion murmured in your ear, his hand on your wrist, stopping you from drawing one of your long knives. You cut your eyes quickly to his normally laughing brown eyes and then back to the soldiers in front of you.

“That never works out well for me, Tovar,” you remind him in a quiet hiss. He moves his arm from his side to around your shoulders and draws you close and tight against his much taller body.

“Good day, gentlemen!” He calls jovially to the five armored men blocking their way on the road. You can hear the wide grin that must be plastered on his stupidly handsome face and you send up a fast prayer to God that he doesn’t manage to get you into worse trouble than you were in already. Or that at least William can manage to get you out of it again.

“Halt,” the spear man in the middle orders, and Tovar stops walking, forcing you to as well, still tucked into his side. His left hand strokes your arm casually (you note its not his preferred sword hand which gives you some hope that he might actually have a plan), and he leans a bit more of his weight on you than you think is really called for. Is he pretending-

“Why whatever are you fine men doing in the middle of the road? Don’t you know there’s a war on! Shouldn’t you be off fighting that fierce some mercenary army?” You want to stab him. His entire left side is open and unguarded mere inches away from your favorite knife, you could slide the blade in right there between his ribs, you could have the pleasure of puncturing his lung and watching him slowly suffocate. Maybe he would finally stop talking.

“No one is allowed past this point,” the spear man informed you, still glaring. “Who are you and what is your business here?” The other four soldiers inched closer and you stiffen.

“Don’t,” Tovar ordered you through his clenched teeth, smile still in place. “I can get us out of this, I just need you to play along.”

“If we get out of this I am going to personally castrate you,” you inform him, a clenched tooth smile of your own on your face.

“Anything to get your hands on my cock, eh?” You elbowed him in that unprotected side you had been eyeing before he tried to bargain with the guardians of the road.

“Oh but surely sir, you wouldn’t hinder a poor man trying to get home to his farm?”The soldier looked extremely skeptical.

“If you’re a farmer, I’m the King of England.” Tovar shrugged.

“Alright, so I’m not a farmer. This rather attractive filly is, however, only paid for for another hour, and I had meant to have my way with her at least twice before my time was up. Surely you can understand my need to make all haste now?”

Nope, not castration. Castration and then you were going to make him watch as you fed his balls to goats.

“Don’t bite me please,” was all the warning you received before Tovar looked down at you, winked, and kissed you, lips surprisingly soft, and incredibly distracting. Maybe the castration could wait for a few hours.

Max Phillips- When the higher ups bring in a handsome new manager to boost sales and productivity you aren’t entirely surprised that every employee gets called one by one into his office for a “chat”. He’s new, it tracks that he’d want to get to know everybody.

You are both anticipating and dreading your own 2:30 appointment with the new boss man, you’re positive that out of all your coworkers your performance has been the most consistently decent since you were hired two years ago, but who knows. This was a new unknown element. His goal might be to shake things up to keep people on their toes.

You hear a ‘come in’ after you knock firmly on his closed door three minutes earlier than your scheduled time, and you find him working at his computer, jacket off, a pout on his lips that were frankly too pretty to be on such a distinctively masculine face, and his shirt sleeves artfully rolled up.

He doesn’t glance at you as he waves at a chair in front of his desk. You sit as instructed, and try as you might, are unable to help staring at him as he finishes whatever it is that requires such attention. You take in the tiny tattoo on his left hand with a little surprise. And you try very hard to ignore the shift and play of the muscles of his forearms under his lightly tanned skin. This is your new boss get a grip, you scold yourself, tearing your gaze away to rest on the shelves behind his head.

He sits back with a sigh and his palms hit his desk.

“I am sorry about that. I honestly hate computers, they’re just so impersonal, don’t you think?” He asks with a winning smile, eyes and attention totally on you now. You return his grin with a small, polite twitch of your own lips and raise your eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Anyways, I just wanted to get to know everybody here, you know? Know the real person behind your employee file! Find out what makes you tick, what gets you excited!” You’re only half paying attention to his spiel, but he garners your full and complete concentration when as he utters the word “excited” and he grins salaciously and winks at you.

You’re a little taken aback. You know you should call HR. At the very least that was thoughtless and at the worst, utterly inappropriate.

You are unfortunately intrigued. You know you won’t be calling anyone about this.

Maxwell Lord- You’d been working for Lord Enterprises for about a year before you were moved up to the top floor. You liked to think you were good at your job, you were a quick typist and resourceful, and you were excited about the bump in pay that accompanied your new position.

After a week of following one of the other girls around and learning the ins and out of the executive offices, you were turned loose and given your own duties and assignments. The very first of those were to take a pile of files from the desk of the most senior of the secretaries and make sure it ended up in the possession of Maxwell Lord himself. You hadn’t heard much about the the big boss one way or another, so you squared your shoulders and after knocking firmly, opened the door and entered his office.

Lord was seated behind a dark wood desk that you thought was probably a bit bigger than strictly necessary. He was in his shirt sleeves, waistcoat stretched over a bit of middle aged spread that he nonetheless wore well. His hair was thick, blond, and immaculately styled, and he was talking animatedly on the phone, gesturing with his free hand and you could see his body vibrating slightly as he bounced his leg up and down quickly.

He was a handsome man, and a lot younger than you had expected him to be. And when he looked up at you as you walked further into his office and smiled brightly at you his attractiveness only increased. His eyes were a deep, dark brown and they shone when two dimples appeared in his cheeks with his grin.

You held up the stack of folders in your hand and raised your eyebrows in a question. He gestured to the desk in front of him and you moved closer to set them gently down in front of the man. You observed him check you out from your hair down to you shoes as you walked closer and were a little surprised when no chauvinistic comment popped out of his mouth. This might have been the 80’s, but you were a secretary and knew that women’s rights only meant that you could earn your own paycheck now.

You nodded at him as you set them down and he mouthed ‘thank you’ as he continued to listen to the droning voice you could now hear over the telephone.

And then he winked at you.

Maybe this job would turn up some opportunities for you after all.

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #268

“i got a switchblade wit that cuts like a bitch, and i think you two should meet.”

What was the shortest amount of time you’ve known someone before you’ve dated them? If you’ve never been in a relationship before, do you watch Scrubs? Jason and I knew each other like... I think two or three weeks? We clicked so fast. Are you a fan of inside jokes or do you tend to stay away from them? I... don't feel a particular way? Do you have any theatrical experience? If so, what have you done? No, I'm not into theater. Which movies currently out in theaters do you want to see? I don't know what's in theaters right now, but I don't think anyone does rn lol. Don’t you hate it when people talk about their relationships constantly? If it's seriously incessantly, yes. There's not a lot you can say to have a conversation when they just ramble about the person, especially when you don't even know the partner. How close would you say you are to your relatives? Not very. What’s your favorite Pokemon? Ninetales. If you could have anyone to do your eulogy, who would it be and why? Well, I'd assume my parents will be dead by that point, so. Probably my best friend. If you play the Sims games, which one is your favorite? I've only ever played Sims Animals, which I looooved back in the past. I haven't played it in years, though. If your parents searched your room, would they be mad at what they’d find? No. Ever taken a picture kissing somebody? Yes. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night? Morning is a great start to the day, but only after your teeth are brushed. I cannooooot do morning breath. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed? Aggressive. I am such a sub lmao. How serious are your feelings for the person you like? I DON'T KNOWWWWWWWWWW Ever had your driver's license suspended? Don't have mine to begin with. Does the person you like know that you like them? Yes. How frequently are you inclined to read, and how much? Somewhat rarely lately, less than I did some months back. I would read some pretty big chunks. When was the last time you questioned the direction your life was taking? LMAOOOOOOOOO I'm not exaggerating at all when I say that's like, a daily occurrence. What small things have the ability to get under your skin? I'm trying to think of something I haven't said before, but I'm not sure. OH, it may seem like a small thing, but letting balloons go outside. It's littering. Many end up in the ocean. What is something small that has the ability to cure a bad mood? A car ride riding shotgun with music blaring. I fucking love it. What was the last big change through which you went? Some moral beliefs altered. ^ Do you deal well with change, typically? Have you always? Fuck no. It blows up my anxiety. How do you feel after spending a great quantity of time online? I used to feel kinda guilty, and I actually still do, but it's more subdued. It's just too normal by now, to the point when I'm bored, I sometimes briefly forget there are other things to do that aren't on the computer. God it's sad. What do you consider to be the biggest drawback to being you? I'M BIG SCARED OF EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!! What do you consider the best part of being who you are? I'm really understanding and can relate to people's pain well. What kinds of things do you have on display in your room? Christ, a lot. My room is STUFFED with decorations that make me happy. There's posters, some artwork, all my Silent Hill game cases or manuals + more SH stuff, meerkats galore, Venus is in here, I have this "shrine" for Teddy... I've got a load of stuff. What do you think your room and its contents say about you, if anything? I love a lotta stuff, ig. Animals, music, dark stuff, games. When was the last time you felt insecure about something/some situation? UMMMMM I should have a question for this fucking immediately. I'm sure it was something when I was at Ashley's inlaws for Mother's Day. What is something about which you are very confident or self-assured? My knowledge of meerkats lmaooo. Which emotional sensation inconveniences or bothers you the most? FUCKIN ANXIETY. Do you ever find it awkward to compliment another being? No, I love love love giving compliments!! When was the last time you had a new experience? What was it? Hm. I guess nightmares where I literally flail and attack shit while shrieking. Do you dress more for yourself, or to the expectations of others? I dress entirely for myself. What is one way you cope when you feel like crap? Binge music I can relate to. Which can make it worse, but sometimes helps. I'll usually get to the point of being teary and cry a bit, but then I start feeling better. Name an insult you regularly receive, if there is one? I guess it's not really an... insult, per se, but I hear "you're too quiet!" all the time. What is something you used to believe about life that you no longer do? Everything happens for a reason. Nope. What is something you hope you never have to do again? Deal with another Jason-level heartbreak. Of the many different American accents, which one is your favorite? I'm actually not sure. Not a fan of any that I can think of. Do you know anyone who had a kid before they were financially stable? Oh yeah, plenty normal nowadays. Is there anything hanging from the doorknob in your room? Yes, the pink bead necklace from my sister's baby shower for Emerson. Sometimes I hang my purse there too. Why did you move to where you're living now? We got evicted for not being able to keep up with rent and needed a cheap but semi-decent place to live. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? I remember I was grounded from the computer for at least a week, maybe more. My punishment was always taking technology away and/or spanked or popped on the arm. I remember she once hit my arm so damn hard that I had her handprint there for a while. My mom was horrible at *keeping* me and my sisters grounded, though; she'd normally calm down within a few days and things would return to normal. What was the topic of conversation the last time you spoke to a sibling? Ummm I don't remember. I should, I saw one just a couple days ago. Are you currently looking for a new job? I don't have a job currently, but while Mom has cancer and surgery coming up, I'm not really looking, but pondering opportunities. She'd have to drive me, which just can't be done right now, and I'm also not comfortable leaving her home alone right now. Who is the person you are the closest to? (emotionally, not physically) Mom. What was the last caffeinated drink you had? Do you drink this often? Strawberry Sunkist, and ugh, too much lately. Whose photo did you last look at? I was on Facebook a bit ago, so someone's on there. Who was the last person to pick you up? You mean like, physically? I don't know, probably Girt because he got a kick out of our height difference and he would do that when we hugged. What are you wearing around your neck? Nothing right now. Have you accidentally mistaken a stranger for someone you know? Oh my god, yes. I did that at the tattoo parlor once at a guy that looked like my sister's ex, who I got along with well. He looked at me like "uhhhhh" and it will haunt me forever. Who did you last blow a kiss at? Venus. I do that and wave a lot when she comes out of her hide and looks my way. Have you ever seen lava in real life? No. Who did you last bite? Um I don't just casually go around biting people lmao. Probably Jason. Do you remember the date of your prom? Ha, it's honestly surprising to me that I don't recall the date of either, considering how I remember, y'know, a weird amount of obscure details through our entire time knowing each other. Was your last kiss long and sensual or short and sweet? Why’s that? Short and sweet, because it was just a goodbye kiss. When kissing, do you like to be on top or bottom? Good Lord, am I a bottom. I hated being on top because I felt he had a better view of me and my body, and I was self-conscious as shit even when I was fit. Does your boyfriend/husband know what size your boobs are? UHHHHHHHHHHHHH I don't have a boyfriend but I've sure never actually talked about it with any. Do you have hair extensions or do you think those are strictly for the scene kids? ..... No? I don't wear extensions, never have, but wearing them doesn't tie you to a label??? List all the things you have from your boyfriend at your house right now? Not everyone has a boyfriend, friend. Last time you exercised and for how long? I DON'T WANT TO THINK OF THIS lkja;dslkfjwe Last girl who called you hot/sexy/something else of the sort? I shared a picture of myself on Facebook for once just the other day, so let's so. *checks* HAHA MY MOM. #1 cheerleader, friends. OH I should probably clarify she said "gorgeous," but I guess that counts? Was she hitting on you? Jfc no. Last guy who called you hot/sexy/something else of the sort? Does getting a comment from Ian of a Spongebob screenshot of Squidward with heart eyes count? lol Was HE hitting on you? *shrugs* He's very open with sharing love for his friends though, so it very well could've been just friendly support. Have you ever taken the 5,000 question survey? Parts of it, and God did it get stupid. What would you do if your boyfriend/husband got drafted into war tomorrow? I. Am single. And not everyone. Is interested in guys. But hypothetically, I would fucking panic. I physically wouldn't be able to handle an s/o in the army; I would constantly, absolutely constantly, be actively fearful. We'd have to find a way to get him out of it. Has a guy ever touched your butt without permission? If so, how did this make you feel? I don't believe so, thank God. How many formal dresses do you own? Sun-dresses? I have two prom dresses (which I'm finally comfortable enough to get rid of at some point) and I think like... one or two other black knee-length dresses that I could now never fit into? What do you hope you grow out of? Social anxiety. It ruins many parts of my life. What is the healthiest and unhealthiest thing you do on a regular basis? Healthy? Oh fuck. I, uh, usually have one bottle of water, I guess? Unhealthy, definitely drink soda. I need to stop. When looking for a SO, what three things are most important (besides looks)? Kindness, patience, and compassion or understanding. How much do you judge a person by their appearance? Define "judge" here. Like, I can conclude someone is impoverished or well off in many cases, but I don't judge them as people. What is the most embarrassing thing you own? Hm. I'm unsure. What is the strangest habit you have? I don't think I have odd habits. What movie made you cry the most? The Notebook or Old Yeller, I think. What was one of the happiest moments of your childhood? Realizing I was getting a dog for Christmas. Fuck, I miss Teddy. What belief do you have that most people disagree with? I'd rather not get political right now. Who or what inspires you to be a better person? I fucking hate admitting it, but Jason. The last thing he told me was to stop saying "I'll try" but rather "I will," and I actually recently almost had a breakdown about it because I shouldn't put SO much value into what he says, make it holy "rules." I treat him like a god in so many ways. Still, in my stupid head, his word is law. I still want to make him so proud. What’s the TLDR description of your last relationship? Long-distance was getting extremely hard, but I think the bigger factor was that we both have problems we need to work on before we can properly support one another. If you found out your current life has been just a dream, would you choose to wake up? (You don’t know if your real life would be better or worse.) I guess... no. I'd be too afraid of it being any worse than it already feels. What dumb thing did you believe for a really long time? Political and religious beliefs I don't at all like admitting I had. Where would you like to retire? Hell if I know, that's a long whiles away. What brings you the most joy in life? Oh yikes. Family and close friends, probs. What was the last song that got stuck in your head? "Blush" by Jeffree Star is on repeat ahhhh What is something you enjoy doing, but aren’t good at? Drawing people. I don't really do it BECAUSE I'm not very good. In art in general, I have a hard time with proportions. Name some healthy foods that you enjoy eating. Strawberries, apples, a lotta other fruits, broccoli, there are these granola and cashew bars I LOVE, salad can be good, scrambled eggs... now I'm blanking. Like there are a lot of foods that can be on either end of the spectrum, depending on how they're prepared. Do you ever eat dry cereal as a snack to munch on? Any particular kind? No, generally too crunchy and dry. When you run out of something to drink & are thirsty, are you quick to retrieve a new beverage or are you lazy about it? It depends on how thirsty I am and what I'm doing at that moment. What is your favorite part of a slice of pizza? BITCH all of that motherfucker. What was the longest power outage you ever experienced? Two or so days. I was so, so scared for Venus because it was in the winter. Poor girl was scared. I had to let her inside my hoodie and shirt to use my warmth for a lengthy period at a time, there were blankets draped over her terrarium... I was genuinely afraid she was going to die. But nope, my baby is good and thriving. :'D Do you believe that children should do all of the chores around the house, or do you think the parents should do them? Or do you have an entirely different opinion? As someone who was raised with chores poorly enforced and now I suck at doing them, they should ABSOLUTELY be a required thing. Children shouldn't do *all* the chores though, of course, especially those involving serious chemicals. Have you ever painted a pet’s nails, or known someone that has done such? Do you think that is cruel? I haven't, but I suppose it depends on whether it's toxic or not and if the animal doesn't mind? I do know people who have. What is something you did as a child that you didn’t realize back then was “wrong”, if anything? I didn't know interracial relationships were perfectly fine. It's funny, I don't recall me seeing black as any less than whites, I just thought it wasn't supposed to happen. Being raised in the South does that, ig. Do you get an excessive amount of bug bites during spring/summertime? Are you one to itch constantly or can you control yourself? No, I've heard because I have A-type blood. Whenever my sister (O-type) and I used to play outside, she would always come in COVERED in mosquito bites, and she's still a magnet for them today. Supposedly bugs don't prefer A, but O the most. I do itch, though. Holy shit, do I itch. Do you own any sports equipment [balls, basketball goals, mitts, etc] that you rarely use? No. Could you ever willingly hunt down & shoot an innocent animal for sport? Over my dead fucking body. Would you be uncomfortable changing someone else’s baby’s diaper? Ugh, I have twice I believe, and I hated it. Have/would you ever want to own a pet frog, or do you think they would be too boring? I don't think I've ever caught and kept one? I don't mind "boring" pets, I just don't desire one. What internet/television provider do you use? Fucking CenturyLink. Stay away from it. Are you uncomfortable going out in public with leg stubble? Even if it’s so light that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it? That much, no. Now I literally haven't shaved my legs in over a whole year because it's not like anyone sees them, but holy fuck would I be mortified if someone did lol. Have you ever lived in a mobile home? No. I'm terrified to because of tornados. Have you ever had your bedroom in a basement? No. What’s your favorite piece of furniture in your house? ...? If someone gave you a kitten, would you keep it? I'd want to, but it'd be Mom's decision. Favorite type of cracker: Cheez-Its. Animal you like to watch but sort of creeps you out: Spiders, especially when they're making their webs.

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