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crowcravesmore · 24 days

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At First Sight (Homelander Drabble)

(aka: Knock em' off his feet) Homelander x F!Reader (18+)

+ His first time seeing you. Actually, he's seen you in his peripheral a handful of times. This? This is when he gets a good, long, look at you. He's a little stuck to say the least.

Words: 657 (Short & sweet, I just couldn't help making a point.)

A/N: Oh how I LOVE down bad man. You can't watch the show and not know that whoever has his affection HAS him. This is my first fic on this blog, I've written a lot before, deleted my blog, and came back, Maybe this will bring me back in, who knows. (Ask box open).

Warnings: Cursing, Homelander craving you, a little too wanting.

+ + +

Homelander likes you. No, listen, Homelander likes you. These days he’s so brazen with it, and you can hardly walk into the same room as him without buzzing under his stare. However, I wanna start it off a little slow at least. He started it off slow at least. Kind of.

It’s your third week in when he takes a good look at you. A rushed mission brief is called and Ashley, idiot, decides now is the time to try out a new presentation method. Handouts. She’s so fucking proud of herself when she steps to the front of the room and says, “I want to ensure everyone has a thorough analysis of the plan, as well as some facts about the landscape that I think—“

Oh please, he’s so close to asking her if she was shaken as an infant when he notices you. Supe by supe you walk around, placing a sheet of paper in front of everyone, & God the sight of you. You know how hard it is for someone to catch him off guard? You do it instantly, unknowingly, unabashedly. Honestly, it’s your eyes – wait – your lips. He can’t stop looking at your lips. Then you smile at The Deep and he has to sit back in his seat a little bit, scooch down, and lean over, chin in hand just to get a good look at you. You’re just about to reach Noir when Ashley musters up the gumption to ask, “Homelander, how would you feel about starlight leading this mission while you stay as backup?”

He’s almost too slow to take his eyes off you, but he does & laughs incredulously at Ashley. “Why would I do that?”

She actually quick steps towards him, hand extended holding a sheet of paper, & places it in front of him before you can make it. “We’re working to establish your image with our female audience, ages 25 through 45, as a softer protector.” She says softer with a wince, like she can hear how fucked it sounds. He’s annoyed, and has to deep breathe his way out of showing it. What the fuck is he reading? It's a mess of statistics and a – quite honestly –l ameass excuse for a game plan that he’s happy to pass on to StarLight. Ashley finishes with “Currently you’re doing amazing with our male audience, but we’d like to shift towards a team player, lover of women image.”

He’s a lover. Through and through, and sometimes hard to find. It’s there though, eventually you’ll get it.

You walk behind him, and reach beside him to place a sheet down in front of Queen Mauve. You smell good. He tilts his head just enough to catch a sight of you without being too honest about it. You’re a sight. You know that? It’s enough to make his eyes drag down your body, stopping at your ass and then making a slow track down your legs. He’s a dog about it, and internally says fuck it, because then his eyes are back up and locked on yours.

He hears your heart jump a little, but you’re a pro, because you just smile it off —fuck, you’re beautiful — and say “Good morning.” Before walking away.

Fuck off, ‘Good morning’ , he’s salivating.

“Good morning” he says kindly.

He hasn’t been this turned on, this quickly in a long time. For a human at that? You’re a new feeling, one he can’t even tell if he’s comfortable with. So he’s gotta lock his eyes back on Ashley and pretend like he isn’t gonna think about you later. “Yeah, absolutely –” He waves his hand, & smiles, “– let’s show some girl power, huh?”

One last glance at you, and you’re looking right at him. He doesn’t even hide his stares this time. His dick jumps a little at the fact that you don’t look away, and he makes a mental note to get your name after this.

+++

A/N: *Screams in wanting him*

#the boys #Homelander #The boys fic #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander x you #the boys series #the boys tv #Kash Writes #fanfic

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things-keeping-me-up-at-night · 1 month

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I just finished QuintonReviews video on Dan Schneider (go watch it, seriously: as always, he is very thorough and nuanced in his analysis and I think his way of deep-diving is something that deserves more support).

There is on thing I want to note that I have also commented on the video: his take on the character of Spencer possibly serving as stand-in for Dan Schneider in iCarly (which makes a lot more sense of you watched the video) makes me feel a little more justified in misremembering Spencer and Sam as dating on the show before rewatching it.

Let me explain: funnily enough, I also started rewatching the show a few months before the first part of QuintonReviews’ series came out. I had very blurry memories of the show; I did remember some parts, including the whole Sam and Freddie dating, breaking up, him dating Carly at some point thing, but my head had also put some correct memories together the wrong way.

I mean, sure, there was an episode where Sam moved into the Shays’ apartment and left her underwear lying around the apartment, but for some reason, I thought she was living there for a long time, at least a season, if not the rest of the show.

My brain also merged the ‘Heatwave’ episode and the Coconut Cream Cake episode into one; one of the most clear memories that I had of the show was the moment where Sam climbs into the fridge, except I thought that a) it was because she was eating the last piece of cake and she was trying to hide it, b) she was living in the apartment and c) she was not wearing short pants, but was in fact walking around the apartment in her underwear because that was what I remembered the whole ‘underwear issue’ to be.

Needless to say, remembering the show that way, I was very intrigued to rewatch it because, being a lot older now, I realised that my memories were either false or, if they were even halfway true, this had to have been incredibly edgy for a kids show and I needed to see if it was truly as wild as I remembered. Back to the Sam and Spencer thing: for some reason, I thought that, after Sam and Freddie broke up, not only were Freddie and Carly the main ship for the rest of the show, Sam instead ended up with Spencer, who I didn’t remember was supposed to be in his late twenties to early thirties at that point. Despite not having a specific memory of any romantic interaction between the two, I was convinced that these two dated at least at some point during the show’s run, which, in the context of the kind of show I remembered, didn’t even seem that far out there.

When I began my rewatch though, I quickly realised just how big the age difference between Spencer and the kids was, so I began questioning that memory because surely, it must have been false…but I had been so convinced of it that I thought that, maybe, just maybe, it was true? I mean, the show went on for six seasons, so the kids could have been 18 by the end…and Sam was living with them, maybe her and Carly were of age at that point? And don’t some shows do a time jump? Anyway, I had watched enough other shows about teens to know that these kinds of things have happened on TV…all in all, I wish I could’ve been sure, but I just wasn’t.

So I sat down and watched all six seasons- going into it with the expectation that through some weird development, then-26 year-old Spencer would end up dating then-13 to 14-year old Sam.

And can I just say one thing? It is wild, going into the show that way, how much actually ended up pointing to my assumption being correct. I now know that there used to be an actual (albeit small) shipping community for those two, but like…I really can’t blame my young person’s memory because that ‘ship’ is even canonically addressed and, as seen through an adult’s eyes, the way Spencer interacts with the kids is certainly unusual. I’m not saying the character was up to anything sinister by any means, but I do get why I processed what I was watching in a way that would have allowed for such a relationship to happen: apart from the whole ‘Sam has a crush on Spencer thing’, there were so many instances of what could easily be read (or is explicitly meant as) adults flirting with/being interested in dating minors and vice versa or even just hanging out with them in ways that seem a lot weirder the older you get. Going back to the Sam and Spencer example: one of the reasons why, despite logically knowing a show on a children’s network would not have featured a character who is established as an adult and a character who is established as a very young teenager dating, I was not fully convinced that that wasn’t going to happen for an alarming amount of time watching the show, was that they did hang out one-on-one in a way that I just didn’t know any teenage girl would with the significantly older brother of their friend in real life. Of course, Freddie and Gibby also had many plots alone with Spencer, but at least based on the people I know, innocent same-sex friendships between teenagers and adults are a little more common (though I’m not saying the ones on the show weren’t weird at times either). And while it is uncomfortable to think about their interactions that way, if you’re watching the show through the lens that I did, there is very little to distinguish the dynamic between this adult character and this character who is a minor from dynamics between characters who did end up dating on iCarly or similar shows.

And maybe I’m just weird, but I do think the nature of the relationships between adults and minors that is established in these shows is to blame for my false memory. In rewatching, I expected to immediately disregard that memory as false after remembering the ages of the characters, but up until the very end, even when it was very much confirmed to me that it was a false memory, the show failed to fully convince me that it wasn’t possible for an underage main character and an adult main character to end up together in its universe, which is very telling and (I think) fits the video series’ conclusion perfectly, though that of course puts a lot more factors into consideration.

I doubt anyone, never mind Quinton himself, is going to read all that, but I just wanted to share this since it has been on my mind for years at this point- all in all, my personal experience with rewatching iCarly was good, but very, very weird for this exact reason.

The strangest part was that, in my rewatch, I almost…wanted it to happen? Not because I genuinely thought it would be a good thing, more because I became so invested in figuring out if I was gaslighting myself or if there had really been such truly unhinged children’s programming just a few years back. And again, there was a disturbing amount of things in the show (at least kind of) backing my feeling up. The only comfort I have is knowing that I’m not the craziest Sam/Spencer theorist to have ever graced the internet: in trying to figure out why I remembered their relationship the way I did, I dove deeper into the whole ‘Spam ship’ (yes, that was a thing) than probably anyone ever should…long story short, if anyone reading this wants to go on a really wild ride check out this blog post:

(Please note that I did not put that last paragraph or the link in my YouTube comment, but I felt like if there was any place to share this internet relic I found, it would be Tumblr.)

#icarly #quinton reviews #has anyone else had these weird wrong memories of TV shows etc.?#nickelodeon

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galwithalibrarycard · 7 months

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Hello, how r u? Soo, I just discovered love little losers (I was a huge fan on nmtd, but didn't know about lolilo). And I love your blog, thanks for keeping the fandon alive. Argh so, Freddie, does she gets better? Cause she's a little bit annoying. Pedro and Balt, I'm jumping out of my sits for them, the backslash? Really. I'm so excited to see more beadick. Anyway, I just wanna vent, thanks for the blog

I’m good thanks, hope you are too. And thank you! I’m definitely not the only one still here keeping the fandom alive, there’s still a few of us out here, but I appreciate the love! 😁 it’s nice to know people are enjoying my posts still!

We’re actually having a small resurgence in the tags with new people watching both series, which is fun. Those people inspire me to keep posting too, it’s all full circle.

I am… not really sure how to prepare you for lolilo tbh. It’s a loose adaptation of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labors Lost, and it’s a lot heavier and angstier than NMTD for one thing, so be warned. Pedrazar is a very slow burn, be prepared for a journey! I liked Freddie right away bc I relate to her anxious energy, but you might take some time to warm up to her, that’s fair.

I recommend you head to @beatriceeagle and check out the series of Lolilo meta analysis posts she made with her sister a few years back. It’s a show that trades in subtext and has a lot of important stuff go down offscreen. Reading the metas really helps give a more thorough understanding and insight into the characters and why they behave the ways they do. It might help you understand where Freddie’s coming from, and the others too.

As far as Beadick, I’ll tell you they will break your heart, but it will be put back together again. If you need more of them, the missing offscreen moments and development of their relationship are kind of my specialty in terms of fanfiction. I wrote “the world is too quiet without you nearby”, a 16-chapter fanfic covering the time period between NMTD and Lolilo when Bea and Ben are in a long-distance relationship (plenty of fluff to pad the descent into angst). I also wrote “And We Are Finally Home”, a fic that covers the Beadick relationship arc from the lolilo episode “Confrontation” on through the end of the show- and I WILL be finishing and posting the epilogue to that fic as soon as I can, but you can read the chapters that are already up and still get a pretty complete story there. You don’t have to read them, but i wanted to share because I’m proud of them and I think they’re a good companion to the show if you like Team B! Mind the tags, but there shouldn’t be anything in the fics you can’t handle if you can handle the actual show.

The most important thing you might not get from the videos themselves: it’s canon from the creators that Benedick and Freddie and Balthazar are all dealing with anxiety disorders of some kind, though the creators didn’t actually intend to write that going in- it just happened that they agreed with the fandoms interpretation later on. So everything Ben does is colored by anxiety constantly telling him that he’s too much and that no one likes him and the only thing he’s good for is a laugh- and the (false) worry that Bea is getting sick of him and can’t wait to leave on her travels to get away from him. He’s trying to keep people from leaving him. Freddie is the way she is because she’s desperate for control in life, it’s the only way she feels calm. And Balthazar is petrified of confrontation and retreats into himself when he’s stressed. A lot of this is covered in much better depth in the metas I mentioned, but I wanted to let you know. Not as an excuse for any of their actions, but as an explanation that might make it a less frustrating watch.

I hope that answer wasn’t too overwhelming. I am just incapable of being normal about these webseries and especially about Benedick Hobbes (look, you don’t simply forget the character who got you through your own social anxiety diagnosis, and this is the obsessing-over-fictional-characters website. I talk about other things too, I promise! xD)

Anyway, thank *you* for allowing me to share some thoughts right back! I hope you enjoy Lolilo! 😊💖🦩

#asks tag #welcome and good luck to you Anon!#i also have a whole meta about Ben’s social anxiety it’s linked at the top of my blog

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chocolatebageltje · 10 months

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I've just finished watching the Fear Street trilogy and I'm. I am living for these movies omg they've been spinning in my head like a hamster in a wheel for the past few days. They're so good, I haven't had a movie that kept me so fully engaged all throughout in a while and especially the sound design is what does it for me. I will be watching them all over again soon just to see if I didn't pick up on some things that were concluded later. Despite being a pretty rounded whole I'd almost wish they'd make more sequels about the individual Shadyside killers just to get more content out of the universe. The series is going into my favorite movie catalog for sure.

Also, I deadass need someone to do a thorough character analysis on Nick Goode specifically lol. @ me if you're that person bc I need to DISCUSS. (Spoilers below)

I found him sus on so many occasions throughout the series but every time I ended up letting my guard down regardless because he was just portrayed as so likable to me?? After he turned his back on Ziggy at the end of part 2 I felt he might've known something and that it was a dick move, but I also kinda felt that there might've been a good reason for it and that he'd get a redemption arc. But BOI that turned out...different. Deadass though, as evil as he ended up being, I kinda felt there had been some shreds of good left in there as well, just heavily overpowered by all of the rest.

Idk if this is supposed to be the actual meaning of it but, to me it seemed that as it was said the Goode's were able to get whatever they wanted through the deal with the devil, Nick desperately wanted Ziggy survive her injuries and so she did. (Like deadass the chick got stabbed big time how tf does one survive that??) And if that was the case, that they could technically wish for whatever they wanted, couldn't he technically also wish for Ziggy to stick with him regardless? But that could blow his cover so... But when they met again at the mall, I found his expression quite hard to read. I felt maybe he had a moment of guilt maybe? Feelings coming back to the surface? But then he deadass tried to human sacrifice her right after so even if so it was pretty meaningless in the end 💀 Maybe his ego was just too big to be fully real with himself? Am I giving this man too much credit?

Also what I found interesting is that it seemed like the dudes could pick the name of the sacrificed person themselves. Did they just pick at random given the killers ended up so random or was it deliberate in some way? Would they know when it'd happen? (Bc if so it'd be kinda stupid of Nick to choose Tommy, the boyfriend of the sister of the girl he crushed on, with a camp coming up where said girls both would be at. 😂)

I'll probably have more to rant about after I get some sleep, but his character was something that I found particularly interesting. Every character honestly was so layered to me with both bad and good perspectives to them and how they behaved. I'm gonna stop so this won't become endless lol, but pls tap in if you too want to gush about these movies!

#fear street #fear street part 1: 1994 #fear street part 2: 1978 #fear street part 3: 1666 #fear street 1666 #fear street 1978 #fear street 1994 #movie review #movie rant #nick goode #tagging him specifically my ass didnt even take the time to gush about any of the others yet #on that note i kinda found it funny tommy was the antagonist of the 3rd movie when he deadass was a golden retriever in part 2 #aside from the murder obviously #you get what i mean lol #i mean golden retrievers can still bite #fear street trilogy

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ronearoundblindly · 10 months

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The Stark Legacy (20)

Nourish, part of Book II: Mind (see previous or series)

Summary: Sam Stark chats with Bucky as she prepares to replace his vibranium arm.

Warnings for self-experimentation and medical procedures (non-graphic)--all canon-level intensity. Rated Teen/15+ ONLY

CHAPTER TWENTY—February 2039

“You’ve never thought about your life if you hadn’t been an Avenger?” Lil'Sam adjusted a piece of the mechanical arm on the cradle in her room, standing over a prone Captain Barnes. She could tell he was watching her intently. Normally, Sam would be very nervous to work near someone (except Missy) much less on someone (except Missy), so she began with the thought that Bucky’s arm was simple, mechanical, and needed fixing, like her father did with cars.

It helped that after several flight lessons with Big Sam, she and Bucky could communicate with a sort of professional ease. However, this was the first physical interaction where he wasn’t a projection.

Taut muscle, sonorous lungs, and a watchful gaze were intimidating close-up.

“Unfortunately, I did quite a lot before I was…on the team,” he replied, eyeing her fingers warily, “and almost none of it I want to think about.”

If she stopped to ask if Bucky was comfortable every time he watched her, Sam would never complete his arm. She’d read a fairly thorough analysis of patient-interactive techniques when he’d finally expressed real interest in letting her replace his arm.

Personable storytelling and distraction ranked high on the list.

“Fine, before the army then? What did you want then?”

“As a teen?” This seemed to throw him into a reminiscent lull, and Sam took advantage of his stillness to start the scan of his right arm. “My mom died…young, and I grew up at Lehigh with my dad. The army was pretty much my whole life from day one. I wanted to contribute and help, but I… I didn’t want to fight. I certainly didn’t dream of shooting and,” Bucky swallowed, “killing people.” He wouldn’t look back up at her. He picked a spot on her ceiling instead. “I just happen to be pretty good at it. Had enough practice,” he finished in a quiet tone, fidgeting.

“Try not to move,” Sam corrected gently. He complied, his body settling quickly as he’d been trained. They may have taken the programming out of his brain, but the muscle memory remained permanent, forever ready to comply.

After several more moments, he whispered, “is this what you want to do?”

“Well, I am good at this. It comes naturally to me.” Sam’s tone was flat while she waited for the dial to tick above 40% complete.

“And?” Bucky chirped. “That’s not an answer.”

“Because yours was?” She blurted without consideration.

He took another long pause, closing his eyes as if deciding to divulge a secret. “There was one time, a hundred years ago almost, when Steve and I took these girls out on the town. I danced with this girl named Dot, and when we slow danced, I thought I maybe would…want the simple life, you know. House, kids, the whole lot.”

“Must have been some dancer.” Sam tried to imagine that kind of look on Bucky’s face: pure joy. She’d seen a smirk, and a few fake smiles, but what he described was him transposed into Clint’s life which still didn’t quite fit. “Pretty, was she?”

“Curly, dark hair, and this little hairpin that looked like a lizard, with red gems for eyes.” His open, unfocused eyes shone a light blue while reflecting the pale ceiling. His face seemed more relaxed and soft. “That was unusual,” he went on. “Every other woman I’d met wanted delicate, pretty things like flowers and hearts, and…Dot wore a pin her brother gave her before he shipped off.” For a brief spell, Bucky’s mind wasn’t even on the planet anymore, and just as quickly, he blinked back. “I should have talked to her more.”

I don’t get it, Sam grumbled internally. The scan was at 94% now. I don’t experience that. I don’t find connection with people easily. She’d never seen anybody try as hard as Clint and Laura did for her, but Sam was not good at cooking or archery or riding. However, they couldn’t do any of this. She placed her tablet on one of Missy’s towers. Her fingers grew sore and tired quickly these days.

“Whatever happened to that boy? The one you took to the wedding.” Bucky had seen the lights go off on the scan and turned his head towards her, rolling his shoulders forward.

Sam had mixed feelings. Lucas got what he wanted. He was too dumb for her. Neither felt love for the other, and ‘like’ got them as far as it could. His fault, her fault, it didn’t matter, so the whole thing got filed away as a failed connection to the world she had to be in. She settled for a sarcastic raise of her hand, saying “You don’t see him, do you?” Sam kept her focus on the monitor rendering the details of his arm scan. “100%—” she started slowly, “—no. In fact, your inanimate arm is going to be better company than that boy ever was.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched; it was the most savage thing he’d ever heard Sam say. Perhaps she had a bit of fight in her after all, in her own way. “What does an eighteen-year-old want these days? I’m always a few decades behind humanity,” Bucky snorted.

“What makes you think I’m like other humans?” Sam thought aloud. She needed to think of a different story to tell, or another question. “I’ve got to do a biopsy so I can build your tissue into the—never mind, I forgot you don’t want the nitty gritty,” she stopped herself. Bucky had made it pretty clear, weeks ago after returning to Wakanda, that he did not care to know the science behind the procedure particularly; he only wanted to know if Sam could do it. “So with your hypothetical family, you’d still be military or have a different job?”

Bucky sat straight, looking up for a moment, pondering a life that never was and never would be. “I’d work with my hands. Couldn’t hack it as a farmer, but I thought about factory work back before all the automation. Nowadays, all I would be good for is security.”

Sam stood with the needle ready. “You good?”

Bucky nodded but found a crack in the vinyl of Sam’s desk chair to focus on. He’d seen too many needles go into his skin; he’d never watch another if he didn’t have to. “I scare some children,” he added. He felt the pressure steadily increase where Sam had wiped. “I never chose it, and I don’t like that people call a piece of me a ‘thing.’ ‘Watch out with that thing.’ ‘Keep that thing away from me.’ I’m sick of it. If I didn’t need this to fight, which is the only job I’m good for, I would prefer a regular prosthesis. Amputees look at me, too, and I know I don’t deserve all the investment they can’t get. Even then, I’d be mistaken for a war hero, which is not…” He didn’t finish.

Sam carefully took the sample behind a panel in the cradle, sitting on the floor to reach it. Her hip bones hit harder on the cement than before. She’d lost a few more pounds. She’d have to increase her ‘smoothie’ intake, but there were no other modifications she could make to the nutrient gel. Missy had run statistics on her organ systems and how long Sam could sustain life in her partially-rejected skin regularly. The results were daunting; her Extremis skin was attempting to survive without insides, and her insides were choked, dying without helpful skin.

When Bucky showed up at her door after New Year’s, Sam jumped to make her theoretical brain-teaser of a notion a real project. Now, in her excitement, when she so carefully chose to hold back 95% of what she knew, Sam accidentally let her mouth go without a filter. “What about Nat? You two looked good together.”

“What the hell?” Bucky almost jumped out of his skin. “How would you know that?”

“I saw Tony…give me to Clint, and I saw you and Natasha talking.” No one knew she watched all the footage she could get Missy to pull up. The Avengers' daily lives were close to an open book to Sam, a book she sometimes imagined herself a character in. She’d watched decades of heroes interacting with each other, she could predict their responses to different people, and knew almost every micro-expression her father had. “I never got to hear what people said at Mom’s funeral. It was the only way to see.”

“That was a very long time ago, Sam.” He remained eerily still again.

“And I’m guessing not the first time,” she prodded, “from how you acted.”

Shaded by his lowered head, Bucky’s eyes looked a deep ocean blue now. His hair dangled, and he didn’t move.

“I meant no offense, but I wanted to know what really happened in the lab because I was so young. Kids don’t remember things clearly. You mentioning it over the whisky made me curious…” Sam had no interest before in Captain Barnes’ personal life, only the lab incident, but now, the nerve she’d struck… what if Sam had killed the spark of something for him with a childish attack?

The sample snapped into place, but Sam struggled to get up. This was not the moment she wished to explain her physical condition to Captain Barnes. What if he thought she couldn’t do as promised? She’d failed to help herself until now, unless you counted her lack of scars, so why should he trust her. “You’re done for now, so if you want to head out, it will take quite a while to model and print the arm, and then we remove the metal and attach.”

He stayed in his own silent world for another moment, then absently asked, “you want some coffee?”

“Always,” Sam replied even as her stomach churned, and Captain Barnes promptly left her alone, an inscrutable look on his face.

Sam pried and leaned and pulled awkwardly on the cradle and a nearby box to get up, and walked over to her monitors, hoping the distraction would stop tears welling in her eyes. It didn’t always hurt. Sometimes she felt ‘off’ in some way, others itchy, strained, pinched, or tender, but always, constantly, Sam was uncomfortable.

A glowing green spot appeared in one corner of her screen; Missy wanted to say something. She wouldn’t speak unless Sam gave her the all-clear that no one else was around. Sam placed her forefinger over the green and let it scan.

“Sam,” Missy said in a low volume, “I will need more material to generate the entire limb.”

“Just vibranium? I can get more.”

Missy opened a breakdown sheet. “Organic material, too. Some of the elements necessary are in the nutrient bath and can be repurposed. Otherwise, the tissue growth will take several months.”

“And with the repurposed ingredients?”

“Four to five days for tissue grafting onto vibranium bone and infused nerves.”

Sam thought for a moment. She had already pushed her luck to compile that much material in Wakanda without someone noticing. With the increase in local threats and missions on the continent, Shuri had stockpiled infirmary materials and used them at an increased rate. Sam couldn’t hide a sudden decrease in supply. Everyone here was loyal and friendly, but no one was close enough to Sam to keep quiet about any shipment she could bring in. She needed the nutrient bath to keep her skin from scavenging her insides, but she could try an even steeper increase in vitamins and liquified food, although only minimally helpful so far. She’d collapsed two more times; luckily, no one had been around for those.

Sam thought back to footage she’d seen of her father chugging a horrible chlorophyll concoction by the gallon to slow his palladium poisoning. The lesson was always clear to her: we suffer for our ingenuity, and then we prevail. Tony survived long enough to create a new element, one that produced power for whole buildings, and eventually cities, one that was left as a legacy by his father, her grandfather, Howard. Sam could survive long enough to help a friend become a human again if that’s what he was. If an engineered super-soldier could be called a man, and if he could be considered a friend, that’s what she would do: help him, maybe even save him.

Suddenly, it felt like Sam’s humanity was on the brink, too. She was an experiment of her own making. If Bucky was so convinced he deserved less of a life for what he’d been made into, did she deserve even less because she’d made herself different?

“Missy,” Sam whispered, “what is the definition of human?”

“I do not believe you want the definition of Homo sapiens…”

She wasn’t wrong there.

“Sam, when you rebooted me after fifty years, I struggled to grasp what I had done wrong, why I had been left for so long. Howard had discarded me for Maria. He had loyalty to his wife, and to him, I deserved no loyalty. You actively built me more capacity, you gave me access to learn, and you let me help you grow to be a human. You took me with you to Massachusetts, and here to Wakanda. You’ve shown me loyalty. For that, you are more human to me than Howard was, which means I think you’re the better Stark. You’ve earned something more valuable than simply being a human. At least, that is how I understand it.”

“I get why Dad likes F.R.I.D.A.Y. so much…” Sam mumbled. Her best friend fit onto a few hard drives. Sam traveled the world only to work over the internet in a basement. She learned almost everything she knew about human interaction by watching decades-old video surveillance. Sam could thank her father’s vanity for all that source material.

Sam sat at Missy’s console, staring at her own thin, drawn hands. Maybe it was the vanity of knowing she’d discovered something Tony hadn’t, but she enjoyed seeing the tendons dance as she shifted her fingers over the keyboard. Maybe she was dying. Maybe she could live like this forever. Maybe Sam Wilson was the only person she would ever save. None of it changed the fact that she’d figured out how to control Extremis.

Bucky knocked on the door with the steel toe of his boot, hands full of coffee when Sam answered. His look was stormy, his mind deep in an argument he gave no voice. Never one to shy away from a good silence, or coffee, Sam allowed them to sit quietly. The blinking green light returned, but she couldn’t let Missy speak. Instead, Sam typed the instruction to syphon off the necessary components from the nutrient bath. She heard the filter start.

“Sometimes,” Bucky broke into the white noise of the cradle, “you can be too like another person, they can know too much about you—or you want better for them than you can offer.”

Sam watched him over a sip of coffee. His shoulders were relaxed; he was not uncomfortable or ashamed. He held his cup gently; he was not anxious discussing Natasha now.

He continued, “She seemed pretty close to you for a while. What happened between you two?”

“The accident,” Sam mumbled, “the bike thing I told you about. Nat chose her side. She wanted to protect Clint from Da—Tony’s wrath or something, and then she felt guilty, maybe— I was in that hospital bed for three months, and she never came back. I know I was a terror to be around by the end. I was a bitter monster tied to a bed, spewing hate to whoever came in the room. “

“Sometimes, Nat sees the best in us, and sometimes she just can’t see what she brings out in us,” Bucky agreed.

“Everybody leaves,” Sam blurted without thinking, but at the small nod Bucky gave, she felt bold enough to continue. “Big Sam did kinda the same thing, but we’re fine now. I know—” she cut herself off. Then after a hardened moment, Sam looked directly at Captain Barnes. “I know how angry I can be, and was, as a kid. It gets a lot better, easier when I’ve got something to do. I’m useful when I can focus on a project.”

“You think you have to be useful to be here? Sam, you could do absolutely anything you want.”

“Every person I know is part of a team, one team,” she said as if it explained anything. Bucky remained staring, waiting for the rest. Sam sighed. “Captain, think of all the people you work with. Are any of them useless? Any of the ones you remember and who stick around totally devoid of a skill the team needs?” But she didn’t need to wait for the answer. “So, your arm is my audition…of sorts.” And in the process, prove to you all that you should have cared. I could have done far more outside of the shadows. “I have hope for Nat because she was wrong, but I’ve forgiven her already.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he replied systematically, thinking back to Natasha’s clear sympathy for Samantha. Every one of us has used that girl in some way, and now Bucky realized that all of Sam’s worth was tied to her notion of what she could provide to others. When she wandered off into the lab, her father sent her away. When she was just a kid asking uncomfortable questions, Falcon left. When she got hurt, Nat left. When she got too smart, Clint sent her away. When she arrived at an inconvenient moment, Bruce shipped her to the other side of the world. As he finished the last of his coffee, he had to ask, “Why do you call him Tony?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea what to call him.” Sam remembered Christmas several years back. “I’m not sure he even wants me to speak to him. He said he didn’t like ‘Dad’ and he didn’t like ‘Tony’ from me of course, and I…don’t want to call my own father ‘Mister Stark,’” she drawled formally. “I’m not some AI he built, or a reporter who’s interviewing him.”

“You should think of a pop-culture name for him,” Bucky smirked.

“Is Don Quixote taken?” Sam thought it fit her father almost too well. “Guy plays hero so long he goes insane?”

Bucky snorted. She inherited a whipping wit for sure.

She took her own last sips of coffee and handed over the mug. “Well, think about what you’d like to do after you have a brand-new, feeling arm of your own next week,” Sam said, smiling, “Frankenstein’s Soldier.”

[Chapter 21: Under]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#the stark legacy #tony stark's daughter #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #slow burn #slow build #epic tale

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epicspheal · 11 months

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Ask Box Status- CLOSED

I made it through the first year of medical school y'all!!

So for the summer break I'll have my ask box open while I take a break from doing the character analysis (be on the lookout for a poll in July though for my next round of characters). The ask box will likely close sometime at the beginning of the second year because our schedule is insanely packed and I do not want to keep anyone waiting with my asks during the school year. I'll let you guys know when they'll be closed and I'll finish up any remaining asks in my inbox. Just wanted to set some ground rules before opening up my ask box for any Pokemon related questions or comments! Feel free to ask me about the Ash anime, Horizons (I'm catching up with the new anime), the mainline games (including Legends and Let's Go), Pokespe (granted I haven't read the Gen 4 through 7 chapters so my knowledge there is limited), the Festival of Champions Doujinshi, and Pokemon Masters as well as my own Pokemon AU Cactusverse! 1.) Do not rush me: I've had this happen and it was not a pleasant experience at all. Please understand I am busy with catching up with family/friends, they're making us study over break (we're starting are boards studying which for those of you who don't know are massive behemoths for both US MD and DO students) and I like to take my time with answering the questions. I want to be thorough in answering questions so I may not get to your question the day you submit it. Please have patience. If you come into my inbox asking when your question is going to be answered, I won't answer it.

2. Do not send me any himbo, feral, or yandere headcanons: I'm not a fan of those tropes for any character in Pokemon (or honestly any series) and I do not want to see them in my inbox.

3. No NSFW

Now for the multi-part asks. Unfortunately Tumblr has a strict character limit for asks (500 characters) which is limited. In the past I've answered multi-part asks (people continuing asks over different submissions) and I'm still willing to do so. However they take longer and can be very confusing if more than one person puts a multi-part ask in around the same time (especially on anonymous mode)

1. Do not send me multi-part asks on Anonymous: This will just make it easier for me group asks together if I have a username attached to it.

2. Please limit the asks to 3 parts (~1500 characters): This is just for my sanity in being able to format the ask and being able to answer your question in a timely manner. I've done asks longer than that in the past but with the limited time I have now, I can no longer do that. I will not be answering asks that go beyond 3 parts. I'm looking forward to chatting with you guys again! It's always fun to answer asks and I enjoy seeing what people out there think about the various aspects of the Pokemon franchise.

#ask epic spheal #pokemon

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throatquart6 · 2 years

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4 Tips For Getting More Cash Your Junk Car

Wouldn't you love to know an easier way to sell a car? My guess is that most people prefer easier over the more difficult with many things in life, especially when it comes to finding someone to buy your used car. I made a thorough research in order to find out what kind of person might be interested in purchasing my car. Accordingly I placed the advertisement to sell my car. There were several options for me to place the ad. I chose two different mediums in order to get more buyers. However, I stressed more on the internet site and this helped me well. Junk haulers are a great way to get rid of your bulky unwanted items that you know the garbage men aren't going to pick up. Let's face it the city garbage collectors aren't going to pick up some electrical equipment because of EPA regulations. You can also forget them taking off with a couch because of its size. Cars are out of the question as well, so by calling one of these removers you can save yourself the stress of doing it yourself.

In these economically testing times any money is good money. Selling off that damaged inoperable car will get you some cash which can come in very handy in today's times. The important thing for interested individuals to know is when a car attains the title of being a salvage car. Basically when the cost of repairs on the car exceeds the actual worth of the car itself it is termed as being a salvage car. Most of the time, it is the insurance company that gives this title to a car upon which a claim is made. The value of the car is however determined upon its estimated worth in the market. Hence if you wreck up a brand new car it may still be worth it to repair it yourself. Unless you wrecked it up real badly. In fact, while such cars definitely are useless for you, they can serve several purposes in the automotive industry. There are selling a car for cash are eager to get their hands on junk cars. Here are some of the common uses junk cars are put to. Sometimes the mess isn't even yours. A loved one passes and all of their stuff is left to you. You hold a yard sale and you have family go through and take what is dear to them, but you're still left with so much. You hate to toss it, but no one needs this much stuff. Plus you hate to say it, but some of it really is just trash. Sometimes in cases like these you may want to hire a professional to come and finish the cleanup. how much can i get for my junk car In addition, these same dealers that sell cars on consignment know and understand the market place. You can rest assured that the auto consultant has done the work to determine the fair market value of the car. After a small conversation my friend said the two cars he had did run, even thought it's been a year since he ran them last and also they had some minor mechanical problems as well. He said if I wanted them come over to his place and look at them. No price had been mentioned as of yet. So today I went to my friend house to check out these cars. Lo and behold the first car I saw was a 1992 old but turned over the first time we tried and the engine looked good. But the second car was a 1999 model no dents and the engine looked almost new. My friend said the transmission slipped a little but got it to turn over on the first try. When you have finally decided to get rid of your junk car, you must first complete a brief assessment of the vehicle. It is crucial to establish this analysis to determine the current status of your car. Once this is done, it is suggested to have the car assessed and inspected by a professional mechanic to more accurately distinguish the degree of value for your vehicle. This is not mandatory, but it can give you a leg up on negotiating prices with a potential buyer. This is because the better condition a car is in, the more money it's worth.

#cash for junk cars #we buy junk cars #sell my junk car #dinero por junker #compro tu carro #compro tu coche #we buy your car #crashed cars #non working cars #salvage yard #u pull it #pull a part #lkq

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 3 years

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Heat Up

Pairing :: Rick Flag x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Size Kink

Word Count :: 2,439

Summary :: Rick isn’t too happy Digger tries to tease you

A/N :: I was gonna make a fic about someone else, but then I saw The Suicide Squad trailor and goddamn Joel Kinnaman. I love that tall beautiful bastard. Also, I’m not super happy about the title, but it was all I could come up with, meh

As Amanda Waller’s assistant, you had to deal with a lot daily. It wasn’t just about making sure she got her black coffee right when she walked into the building and managing her scheduled meetings. You had to ensure everything, and one, was in order for her. If someone told you they were running late, you forced them to be on time. You carefully inspected each report and corrected them before turning them into Waller. You got her any top-secret document she needed and kept it hidden. Hell, you even helped her with Task Force X, going through the list of criminals and writing down a thorough analysis of each potential member’s abilities.

Despite working for a woman who was heartless and calculating, you were as timid as a mouse. You rarely spoke to others unless you needed to. After working for Waller for several years, you found it best not to make any personal relationships with the people you met. She warned you most didn’t last very long and very few could be trusted.

One person who had stuck around though and Waller seemed to even trust Colonel Rick Flag. You two started working for her around the same time, and yet, you could barely hold a conversation with the man.

When you first met him, you constantly felt overwhelmed whenever you were left alone with him. It didn’t help that he appeared rather intimidating, with a serious expression almost always on his face, and towered over you. He was 6’2’’, and even in your favorite pumps, which added a good three inches to your height, you were still, smaller than him in frame.

However, regardless of your inability to speak around him, he continuously tried to start conversations with you and be friendly towards you. His constant attempts helped you grow used to him, but your face always heated up and you grew ridged when he got too close when you were alone. You didn’t understand the feeling, nor did you didn’t hate the feeling. It confused you.

Rick was absolutely perplexed by your meek behavior, especially since he’d witness before how assertive you could get when it came to getting something done for your shared boss.

So it was no wonder he worried about you whenever Waller brought you along to see the Task Force X members. They were psychotic criminals, and you were like a slab of meat to some of them. You almost always wore a skirt or dress with a pair of pumps or oxford flats. Rick would be lying if he said you didn’t look perfect every hour of the day.

He used to wonder if you were actually as innocent as you acted outside of work. Then, he saw you run as fast as you possibly could when Harley tried to give you what she called ‘wholesome safe dating advice’.

Since then, Rick did his best to make sure you were at least arm’s length away from any psycho. He even went as far as stepping right in front of you when someone got too close. Somehow, standing either beside you or a bit in front of you had become a habit of his when he noticed you were uncomfortable.

Like now.

Waller sent you and Rick to a hidden ARGUS base hidden in the woods. Rick was obviously there to lead the team. You were there to give them their mission and an extensive overview.

There was a row of chairs for each Task Force X member to sit in. You stood in front of them with a large screen behind you, displaying various diagrams and photos for the mission. Rick stood off to the side, just behind all the seated members.

You looked away from your presentation, the projector turning off and the lights on. “So, are there any questions?”

Harley’s hand shot up. “Did you want me to continue giving you dating advice now or would you prefer I write it all down and give it to you later?”

Your eyes squinted and your lips curved downward just a bit. “What- no. That has nothing to do with the missions and I don’t need your advice…” Your voice trailed off, at a loss on how to deal with Harley.

Rick took a step forward. “Harley, stop it,” He warned her.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I think someone has a major crush on you (Y/N) and I wanna see if he makes a move.”

You were silent for a moment, processing what she had said before your eyes widened upon realization. Surprised, you couldn’t stop yourself from confirming what you had heard. “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” She sang, springing up from her seat.

“Hold on, now I’m interested too,” Floyd chimed in. “Now just who do you think it is that has a crush on lil ol’ (Y/N). I mean, no offense,” He glanced at you before turning his head back to Harley, “but she’s too skittery.”

Digger hopped up from his seat, shaking his head. “Nah mate, that adds on to her appeal.”

He started walking towards you and instinctively you started to back away until your back was against the wall. As he was getting closer, Digger’s hand started to extend, reaching out for you.

“See, it makes it fun to try and catch her.”

You shut your eyes, ready to scream the second he dared touching you. Instead of feeling what you thought would be cold dirty fingers, you heard Digger begin to plead.

“Woah! I was only joking around! Let me go!”

Eyes now wide, you saw Rick hoisting the Aussie up in the air by the collar of his shirt. If looks could kill, Digger’s head would be gone.

“What are the rules?” He asked in a cold tone.

“No escaping and no disobeying,” Digger said quickly.

“Oh! Also no annoying or vexing you!” Harley added.

Rick still held Digger up. “And?”

Confused, Digger looked at Floyd for help who nodded his head towards you. “And-and no touching or teasing (Y/N)?”

Rick released Digger, throwing him towards the door. “Everyone out. We leave at zero one hundred hours.”

All of the criminals walked out of the room. Rick followed to make sure the door was closed once they were out, and locked the door.

You stepped away from the wall, straightening out your black pencil skirt. “Thank you for earlier Colonel Flag.”

“Rick. We’re alone,” He corrected you.

Around others at work, you addressed each other professionally: Colonel Flag and Ms. (L/N). Alone, Rick had started trying to get you used to calling him his name to be more comfortable around him.

“Right, thank you, Rick.”

You were about to clean up and reorganize your notes when you noticed Rick still seemed upset. He had the same annoyed expression he had when the criminals were around and his arms were crossed over his chest.

You cocked your head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

“What were you going to do?” He started walking forward.

“Pardon?”

“What were you going to do if he touched you?”

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking this? “Most likely yell at him and push him away.”

“And then?”

“And then what?” Now, you were starting to get annoyed.

Rick stopped a foot away from you, eyes piercing down at you. “What if he didn’t stop?”

“He wouldn’t dare continue.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ll keep me safe.”

Quickly, you realized what you said and turned your head to avoid his gaze. With a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart started to beat faster when he took one step closer to you.

Rick gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index, turning your head to face him. You looked up at him with your large (E/C) eyes and that odd tingling feeling started up.

“What if I’m not there to keep you safe?”

“You always are.”

Like a flip was switched, Rick suddenly knew why he constantly wanted to make sure you were always alright. You worked for a harsh realist like Waller, but still naively believed good always prevailed. He wanted to make sure you never lost the blissful joy most did when they faced the harsh reality of the world.

His head lowered towards yours until his lips were pressed softly against yours. It was a simple kiss at first. Rick was unsure of how far he could go until you gently returned the kiss. Your hands went up to his chest and he lowered to your waist to pull you closer.

Wrapped in his arms, the odd tingling feeling turned into a warm little flame. You wanted to stay held like this forever.

When he pulled away, you lightly gripped his shirt and tugged. “Rick, I want more.”

“Are you sure, because it might be sweet now, but if we keep going-”

Without letting him finish, you pressed another kiss against his lips. Again, you two sweetly kissed for a few minutes. Then, you felt one of his hands lower down to the round of your ass. A small gasp escaped you upon being lifted, your legs wrapped around him for support. Your skirt bunched up revealing your thighs as a result.

Rick pulled away from your lips, begging to trail down kisses to your neck.

You knew what you two were doing, more importantly, where, was inappropriate. Though with your mind clouded, you didn’t care. You only wanted to make sure you two wouldn’t be disrupted.

“The-the door,” Your murmured,

“Already taken care of,” He said, lips pressed against your neck.

Rick started walking slowly, carrying you over to the row of chairs. Before he took a seat, he put you back down on your feet.

Suddenly, the world spun and you were now seated on his lap, back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms hugged you close to him while he continued to kiss your neck.

Due to your skirt bunched up, you could feel his denim jeans below you. With heat growing in you, without thinking, you started to move your hips in his lap.

A small chuckle left him. One of his arms released its hold on you to start trailing up and down the side of your thigh. “Is this why you’re always so tense when we’re alone?” His hand moved to your inner thigh, coming closer to your core.

Your hands shot up to cover your blushing face. Was this why? You never quite understood why before, but it was starting to make sense now.

Rick’s other hand pulled your hands down. When he wrapped his arm around you again, he made sure to keep your arms down as well so you couldn’t hide your face.

“Come on now, don’t be shy. It’s just us.”

“Mmm!”

You bit your lip feeling him begin to rub your clit through your damp panties. You started to squirm a bit, a clear bulge forming and pressing up against you. He pushed the fabric to the side, inserting only one finger. You moaned softly, your legs spreading open and welcoming him.

Rick pushed in his one finger as deep as he could before pulling it completely out and sticking it back in. This time, his finger curved in you and you felt your cunt tighten. When it did, he stuck a second finger in you. His fingers pumped at a consistent pace, and you kept your moans at a low volume.

You could feel his hardened erection through his jeans pressing firmly against you now. With his fingers still pumping, you started moving your hips along to feel his covered length.

Rick let out a quiet curse, the tightness of his jeans too much. He let go of his hold on you to unbuckle his pants and release his cock.

“I tried to get you ready, but,” He pulled his fingers out completely, both hands now gripping your hips and lifting you up, “this might still hurt a bit.”

He started lowering you down on him and your eyes widened once he had gotten just the head of his dick in. The further he pushed in, the more pain you felt, your eyes growing glossy as a result. He lowered you until you were seated on him again and he was fully filling you up.

You could feel your pussy aching and tightening around him, never being filled up this much before.

“Christ you have a tight little cunt,” Rick gritted out.

Honestly, he surprised himself you managed to take all of him in, but he knew you were in pain. He wanted to give you time to adjust to his length, even if your clenching walls were driving him mad. Though, you could tell by his tight grip on your hips, staying still was driving him mad.

To distract yourself from the pain, you turned your head back to look up at him and pulled him down for another kiss. This time, his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the wet space.

During the kiss, you finally started bouncing up and down in his lap. He helped guide you, keeping you at a steady pace.

With your tight pussy squeezing around him, Rick couldn’t keep the pace you had set. He started thrusting his pelvis up and moved you down on him faster. Eventually, you were no longer in any control while he fucked you. Then, he pulled you out completely and rammed back into you, slamming you down.

“Rick!” You screamed, a sensitive spot now hit.

He did it again and again, your screams growing louder each time he hit your sweet spot.

Each of your breaths was growing heavier, and his fast pace was now ragged. He hit you once more and your head fell back against his chest, a loud moan leaving your lips. Your cunt clenching and finally releasing around him.

With just a few more thrusts, Rick’s hips bucked into you and he held you still for one moment so he could cum inside you. You felt his cock pulse with each hot spurt in you, causing a shiver.

After, he moved you only a few more times slowly for you each to ride out your climaxes. Once done, he pulled you off of him and stood up.

Rick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, holding you close to him as you each steadied your breathing.

“So, I take it you’ll start acting normal now when we’re alone?” He asked you.

“I’ll probably heat up thinking about this.”

“I’m fine with that too.”

#joel kinnaman x reader #rick flag x reader #joel kinnaman smut #rick flag smut #rick flag fanfic #fick flag fanfiction #rick flag imagine

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arvinsescape · 3 years

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Free

A/N: I finally got my new laptop and was able to write again so I wrote an idea that’s been in my head for a while, it’s loosely inspired by Luther, a series that I’ve re watched recently, I hope you all enjoy.

Summary: Tom just knows you had something to do with your husbands murder. His problem? He can’t prove it.

Warnings: Swearing. Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, condoms are a barrier from many things), oral (Fem receiving), mentions of murder, talks of an abusive relationship. (Minors do not engage). I think that’s all.

This is purely a work of fiction. I accept constructive criticism.

W/C: 3.6K

You were driving Tom insane, he knew, in his gut, he was so sure that you had something to do with your husband’s disappearance. The case had landed itself on his desk when missing persons had deemed it a murder case, even without a body. Could he find the hard evidence that linked you to the murder? No. Was he sure it was you? A thousand per cent. Your case had been dropped months ago but he couldn’t get it or you out of his head.

“Tell me what happened?” Tom asked as he sat opposite you for the first time.

“I’ve already answered all of these questions.” You replied, Tom could tell you were nervous, you had a hard expression, but he saw straight through it.

“I don’t believe some of the answers that you gave.” He said as interlocked his hands on the desk, leaning slightly closer to you.

“I’m not really bothered what you believe, it’s what happened.” You fired back.

“People don’t just disappear.”

“Sure, they do. That’s what missing person’s is for, right?” You said as you cocked an eyebrow at him and he almost smiled, slightly enamored by the way you were handling his questioning. He’d gained a reputation for getting people to crack, but you? You seemed unfazed by his line of questioning.

Ultimately Tom had had to let you go because he couldn’t find the evidence, he needed to convict you. It drove him mad, it had him stumped for months just trying to figure out how you’d done it. How you’d evaded his thorough analysis of your property and workplace. You were smart, that was glaringly obvious to him, every time he thought he’d found something, he came up short.

A week ago, he’d found himself with a similar case on his desk, only this time the body was found. Again, there wasn’t much evidence but there were so many similarities between your case and this one. He found himself up for hours cross referencing your case file and this one, although the woman they suspected this time wasn’t as intelligent as you were, she’d lied about her alibi. Unlike you she’d said she was with a friend who denied it. You on the other hand had said you were at home all day and he couldn’t confirm that as truth and so this evidence became inadmissible in court.

He’d found himself on your doorstep, almost wanting to beg for your help, it was strange, he’d never felt like he needed anyone else’s help before yet here he was outside your door.

“Detective Holland. A man I thought I’d never seen again.” You said once you opened your door. He couldn’t help but note how beautiful you looked, he shook the thought away as he showed his badge and entered your home.

“Mrs. Leigh, I need your help.” He said in a matter-of-fact manner, he noted the small smile that had appeared on your lips and fought his own back, yours was so contagious.

“It’s Miss L/N now.” You politely corrected him.

“My apologies.”

“What could you possibly need my help with?”

“A case I’m trying to solve.”

“Forgive me but I’m not sure how I could be of help to you.” You said with furrowed brows.

“I think you could.”

He talked you through the case and his theories, all the holes in stories and suspicious behavior and you just drank it all in, nodding in certain places but ultimately you kept quiet. It wasn’t until e was done that you spoke.

“I mean, and this is all hypothetical, you’d hide the weapon in plain sight.” You answered as you made your way over to your fridge.

“That would be stupid though.” Tom said confidently, there was no way he’d missed something that was in plain sight. He watched as you pulled the bottle of wine from the fridge with a sigh. What had urged you to help him was beyond you, but a part of you knew that your case still haunted him, and you somehow felt guilty for it.

“People like you will always overlook stupid.” You said with a confidence he couldn’t quite place.

“So, you’re saying if someone wanted to hide evidence, they’d do it in plain sight because we’d overlook it?” Tom was bewildered, there was no way that this could be true, he’d spent hours going over the case files, there’s no way he missed such major evidence such as the murder weapon. He watched as you nodded mindlessly before digging through the drawer for a bottle opener.

“The autopsy report indicates a stab wound to the neck.” He continued. “They bled out. I’ve searched that house and I couldn’t find a single knife small enough to fit that wound.” He spoke. He knew the evidence for this case was in the house, the timing of everything would not have given the perpetrator any time to hide evidence away from the house.

He watched as you took the cork out of the bottle, once you’d removed the cork you placed the bottle opener on the counter, the tiny blade used for taking the paper lining off the bottle top was shining at him, almost mocking him.

“I could think of a few.” You hummed as you filled a wine glass. Tom was filled with excitement as he realized you were right, the small knife was easily concealed within the opener, he had overlooked it, not thought for a second that such a small knife was in the most basic household item.

“All I need to do is tie the murder weapon to her and case closed.” He beamed and you smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since Tom had met you and he couldn’t help but return it, he really was enamored with you.

“Case closed.” You smiled as you sipped from your wine glass.

You had started to infect the young detective’s thoughts in a different way. He used to obsess over how you’d done it and now he was more obsessed as to why. He couldn’t understand how a woman like you, who was so quiet, kind and charismatic could have harmed another person. He started to wonder if he was wrong, if you’d had anything to do with it at all but his gut told him you did.

All the evidence for his current case came together and the victim’s wife had gone to prison for his murder, pleading guilty. She’d killed him because she wanted his money. He thought back to your case, your husband had had a lot of money, but he couldn’t see that being your motive, he couldn’t think of anything that would motivate you to murder someone. Over the time it took him to gather the evidence, he’d sought out your help more than once and he’d become enchanted by you, he found you intriguing, he wanted to get to know you better.

He wondered if that was what had brought him to your doorstep yet again. He should have been out celebrating the win, but he found himself outside your door. He knocked and wondered if you’d answer, it was late, he noted but he found himself hoping you’d open your door for him. When he heard the lock click his heart raced with excitement, he hoped you’d have that lovely smile on your face that you always had.

“Detective.” You smiled and he laughed.

“Tom.” He corrected and you smiled wider at him.

“What brings you to my doorstep Tom?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“I’m not sure I’d have found that evidence had it not been for our chat, so thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Did you want to come in? I’ve just opened a bottle of red.” You asked with that oh so contagious smile.

“How could I refuse?” He said as he made his way passed you and into the living room that he’d become so familiar with.

A bottle of red wine shared between the two later had them both feeling slightly tipsy. Tom knew he should probably make a move, but he didn’t want to, not unless you wanted him to. He found he very much enjoyed your company and wanted to stay in it as long as possible.

“Thank you for helping me finish the wine.” You smiled.

“Favor returned?” He smirked and you laughed.

“Sure. I suppose I won’t see you now.” You thought aloud.

“I suppose not.” He said, you’d moved closer to each other now, faces inches apart. “Unless you want to help me solve more cases.” He continued.

“I don’t think you’ll need my help again.” You said quietly, eyes flicking from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips.

“You never know.” He answered as quietly as you had. Tom licked his lips in anticipation, he probably shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. You hummed in response as your noses brushed one an other’s. He couldn’t stop himself as he closed the small distance between you.

Your lips met in a desperate kiss, his hands finding your hair as you fisted his shirt in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. His mind felt blank as he became completely consumed by thoughts of you and what he wanted to do to you. He’d found you attractive the second he’d brought you in for questioning all those months ago but the more he’d gotten to know you the more he found you attractive. The rational part of his brain that was telling him this might be dangerous shut off as bit your bottom lip and you moaned slightly.

Your lips disconnected as you both needed air, both as breathless as each other. You looked at him and the look in your eyes drove him wild, your beautiful eyes were looking back at him completely list blown. He reconnected your lips as you straddled him, his hands finding your waist, lifting your shirt slightly to feel your skin.

“Bedroom?” He asked through a breath as your lips briefly disconnected.

“Upstairs, third door on the right.” You said quickly before reconnecting your lips, the kiss was hot and heavy as Tom stood, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a second. As soon as he found himself in your room, you both fell onto the bed, Tom’s back hitting the mattress. He almost moaned as you rocked your hips into his, the friction causing him to stiffen even more than he thought possible.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He said as he sat up, his lips connecting with your neck. You rolled your head back to give him more access and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat, listening to the small gasps you were exhaling. He was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life, he felt completely drunk off you.

“Tom, I really want you to fuck me.” You spoke and Tom groaned at the filthy words that left your mouth, he wasn’t expecting it.

“Wanna taste you first.” He spoke as he flipped you both over, your back easily hitting the mattress as your lips reconnected. He trailed kisses down your neck as his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pulling it from you effortlessly. He unclipped your bra and threw both your shirt and bra onto the floor. Kissing down your chest as he took a nipple into his mouth, slightly grazing it with his teeth before licking and sucking at it.

Your moans grew louder, and Tom found himself entranced by the sounds you were making, he doesn’t recall ever being with anyone who sounded as pretty as you did. He continued his attention on your nipples, switching from one to the other.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he smirked against your skin.

“What?” He asked as he made eye contact with you, his fingers moving to roll your nipple.

“I need you to move lower.” You moaned.

“Whatever you want baby.” He spoke as he placed a final kiss to your breast before moving down your body.

He quickly removed your shorts and groaned when he realized you didn’t have underwear on. He looked at your glistening heat and almost moaned at how wet you were for him.

“So wet, look at this.” He said as he ran a finger through your folds. “I’ve barely touched you and your soaked.” He smirked as you rolled your head back into the pillow.

“Please.” You begged as he let out a breath over your heat, watched as you jolted slightly from the sensation. “Tom.” You moaned as he ran his tongue through your heat.

“You taste fucking amazing.” He said before practically diving in, sucking your clit as he listened to your moans. He continued to lick and suck at your clit as he heard your moans grow louder, you must have been close he thought to himself as he sucked your clit and listened to the high-pitched moan you released.

He felt as your hand moved to his hair, almost keeping him still as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, your hips bucking up to meet his movements and e found it so incredibly hot, the way you’d started to use his face to almost get yourself off was driving him wild.

You let out a moan of his name as your orgasm crashed through you, Tom felt your legs shake and helped you through your intense orgasm, feeling proud of himself for not disappointing you. Once you’d come down from your high, he pulled away, moving back up your body, your legs continuing to shake through your aftershocks.

“So perfect.” He mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, taking in the blissful expression on your face. “Did so well for me. Fucking hot.” He said again as you removed his shirt, placing a kiss onto his chest. You continued pressing kisses to his chest as he fumbled with his belt, almost getting frustrated as it got caught.

“Here.” you said as your hands took over, taking his belt into your own hands, undoing it almost like it was second nature to you. He found it all the more of a turn on. You made short work of his pants; they found their place with the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me Tom.”

It was all the confirmation he needed as he slipped into you, both of you moaning at the contact. Fuck, you felt good, almost perfect for him. You were both a moaning mess as he thrusted into you over and over again. His hand gripping your thigh to hoist it higher around his waist. You almost screamed as he found your g spot from his new angle, your nails clawing at his back which only made him thrust into you harder.

“Fuck, that feels good, you feel so fucking amazing.” He said as he felt you clench around him. He shifted your leg higher to get an even better angle on your g spot as he continuously pounded into you, listening to your moans of his name. he felt his own orgasm approach as you tightened around him, he knew you were close, and he watched in awe as you reached your own hand to your clit and started to rub it.

“That’s it baby.” He said and after a few more thrusts he felt you come around him which brought on his own orgasm, he removed himself from your tight heat and released his load all over your stomach with a moan of your name.

It took you both a good few minutes to recover, he was collapsed on top of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He kissed your shoulder every few minutes and found himself more happy and content than he’d been in a long time. He removed himself from the top of you and went into the bathroom to find a warm cloth to wash the two of you off.

Once you were both cleaned up he laid in your bed with your head on hi chest as you slept soundly, and he ran his hands through your hair. He was deep in thought as he thought about your case and what had happened and now he was dying to know what had driven you to commit such an act. He was so sure in his gut you’d done it but having you here in the state you were he wondered how you could harm an insect, let alone another person.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened. Just be honest, everything’s different now. I’d want you to confide in me as your partner not see me as a detective who’s looking to lock you away. Fuck Princess, I think I’d move the Earth if you asked me to.” He whispered and he meant it, he didn’t want this time with you to end, he was so infatuated with you by this point. He fell asleep after a while, thoughts of you completely on his mind.

“I need to know how you did it.” He spoke after a while of you both being awake, you were spooning now as his hand rubbed your bare skin, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You’ve read the file.” You spoke.

“That says you didn’t do it, but I know you did Princess.”

“My case is closed, why don’t you leave it at that?”

“I can’t. I’m obsessing over it.”

“I’ve already told you.” You said after a while and Tom furrowed his brows as he turned you onto your back so he could look at you.

“No. You haven’t.” He spoke carefully, maybe he’d missed something, a confession maybe.

“For a Detective Inspector, you can be pretty stupid.” You laughed and he thought on your words for a second. Thought about how much help you’d been and what you’d said, of course you knew how this woman had done it, it was how you’d done it. The only difference was that you’d managed to dispose of the body.

“So, you did do it?” He said quietly, a small part of him was proud he was right, his gut was never wrong, but the bigger part of him wondered why.

“You just need to prove it.” You said as a tear made its way down your cheek. Of all the things Tom expected, this wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t expecting you to cry.

“Hey,” he said as he swiped the tear away with his thumb. “Tell me what happened.” He urged in the most comforting manner he could, he needed you to know you could trust him with this.

“Have you ever felt trapped? That’s how he made me feel, like I had no way out. I tried to leave him so many times, but he wouldn’t let me, he had me by the throat and it felt like he was squeezing the life out of me.” You said through your tears and Tom’s heart dropped, this wasn’t a usual case where the wife murders the husband for a payout. “He wasn’t the nice rich guy everyone thought he was, he hit me, took all his anger out on me but I could never prove it, if I had bruises I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until they weren’t visible, which wasn’t often. I snapped.” You spoke and he pulled you into a hug.

“Y/N…” He said and you interrupted him.

“But it never matters to people like you. You don’t give leeway for the small amount of people who had no other choice. That’s why I never came clean, never admitted to what I’d done, I didn’t want him to trap me any more than he had, I didn’t want to go to prison because of him.” You said as you finally let the tears out that you’d kept in for so many months.

You hadn’t intended to kill him; it was an accident. You cried for ten minutes as Tom held you, placing comforting kisses to your temple. Something about finally telling the truth was freeing, you knew he could and would probably arrest you for this, but it felt good to finally tell someone the truth that was eating away at you.

“I’m not going to do anything.” Tom spoke after a while.

“What?” You asked through sniffles as your tears ceased.

“I understand now. You’ve been punished enough. Your secret is safe with me.” He said sincerely and you believed him, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you.

“You could lose your job, go to prison if anyone found out.” You said and he kissed your cheek.

“They won’t, your case has become a cold one. There’s still no body, I doubt they’ll reopen the case.” He said through a small smile. He didn’t want to ask what you’d done with the body, he assumed you were clever enough to make sure it was never found and if it was he would make sure none of the evidence led to you, he would make sure that all the evidence ran dry, he felt like he would do anything for you.

“So, I’m free?” You spoke, hope lacing every word.

“You’re free baby.”

#tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Comics 2 | A.G

Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader

Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school

Warnings: Cursing

Years later, Aidan and Y/n were now twenty-five. All these years and Aidan hadn’t seen her since he gifted her the comic book when they were just twenty. All these years later and he still loved her.

He left a bookmark in there on purpose, one with his number, but yet, she never called. It made his mind wander. Why wasn’t she calling? Maybe she wasn’t fond of calling, but even then, she never texted either.

A certain feeling of defeat lingered in his heart. Maybe she didn’t like him like that. Her words were stuck in his mind; they lagged in his head like a broken record every time he was to fall asleep.

“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “

Why was he to remember it? She was a comic book artist, for Christ's sake, not an upcoming actress. As far as he knew, there would never be a significance to her name. A new Netflix show was in the making, another one based on comic books.

Of course, Aidan got the call. The call was a producer begging him to audition for the leading role. He would be perfect for this role, swore the producer. Aidan was hesitant but did it anyway.

Aidan wasn’t the only one in the audition room, of course, but he was only here because of the pleading the producer did. He auditioned, and that was that. Within a week's notice, they would notify him.

On his way home, he stopped by a library, the very same library he met the girl at. Sighing, he walked to the comic book section and picked up the series of comics. There were five in the series, and he bought all of them.

He walked home with a backpack filled with his belongings and now new comic books. Walking into his apartment, he unzipped his bag and took out the first comic. The male ignored who wrote and illustrated it. It didn’t really matter. Did it?

The brunette read through the first comic and was hooked almost immediately. He read through them relatively quickly, and when he finished, he was agitated. The books were completed on a cliffhanger, only leading him to assume there had to be a sixth book soon.

Three days went by, and Aidan couldn’t help but reread the comic books for a more thorough analysis. The more he read, the more he saw how similar he and the main character was.

Everything down to the hair, the dimples, the smile, and the eyes were the exact same. The mannerisms being almost identical scared him. But he realized why the producer begged him for this role. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said Aidan was the perfect candidate for it.

He finished the series a second time and stared at the cover. That’s when he realized it and then began to scold himself for how dense he could possibly be.

“ Written and Illustrated by Y/n L/n “

We’re the words written across the top of the book. That’s why the main character was so similar to him, because the girl who wrote it knew who he was. She was observant, hella observant.

Within a week's notice, as promised, Aidan got a call saying he got the role and they would fly him to New York to begin filming. He’d be leaving in a month, probably the least amount of notice he’s been given before filming a show.

Nonetheless, the month went by faster than you could blink, and he was on a plane to New York. The set was much bigger than he imagined and made his way to the producers.

“ Aidan, you came! How wonderful! “ The producer from the phone exclaimed happily, “ My names Alex. I’m so ecstatic you came. “

Alex put his hand out to shake, which Aidan accepted politely, “ I assume you’ve read the comics by now? “ A familiar voice queried.

“ I have, actually. “ Aidan replied, turning around to be met with the dyed-haired female, “ I told you, remembering my name would come in handy. “ Y/n winked.

Aidan snickered, “ Why make your main character almost exactly like me? “ Aidan questioned, fully serious, “ Because Gallagher, you’re intriguing. You also seem to attract the best audience. Not to mention you always put on a show. “ Y/n said with prominent confidence.

The way his last name rolled off her tongue almost made him faint. He adored her and wanted her to be his. Now that she was here, he’d do anything in his power to make her his.

“ So you’re using me to make your show popular? “ The male joked, “ No, don’t take it the wrong way. I used you because you’re hardworking, and you put everything into your role. You, my love, are perfect for this role. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan’s cheeks flushed at the pet name.

“ Now, I must be going. However, I will see you on set tomorrow, I presume? “ She questioned with a soft smile, “ Yeah. Definitely. “ Aidan breathed as she left.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, “ You are completely head over heels for her, huh? “ A male voice spoke in his ear, making him jump, “ Jesus Christ Robert, where did you come from? Why are you here? “ Aidan heaved as his hand was on his heart.

“ I’ve actually earned myself a role as well as Elliot Page. I’ve never seen you so entranced. “ Robert commented, “ She's been stuck in my head for years. “ Aidan murmured.

Robert had a face of curiosity, “ We met like five years ago at a library, and I talked to her for only two hours, but by then, she had me completely wrapped around her finger. “ Aidan explained, and Robert raised an eyebrow, “ She moved the next week, and I hadn’t seen her since. “

“ Well. Better make your move soon. I’ve seen guys eyeing her up all day. “ Robert replied as he walked off.

Months later, Y/n was right. Aidan was absolutely perfect for the role without even trying. Granted, the character was practically him, but he excelled in making the role his own.

Y/n and Aidan had gotten quite close throughout those months. They seemed pretty fond of each other. She was confident, intelligent, and caring. He was thoughtful, kind, and sweet. The pair made a loving match.

However, the girl's heart was guarded, she had been let down so many times, and she didn’t want to ruin the friendship she had acquired with the famous male. Aidan, in his free time, had been working on an EP. The title and main song on it was held close to his heart.

After a couple of dates and a lot of convincing, she gave in. Aidan Gallagher had now achieved the girl of his dreams, Y/n L/n. She was everything he wanted and so much more. He was captivated by her and made sure he showed the world.

Every chance he got, he posted her everywhere. His fans absolutely adored her, possibly even more than he did. Saturday lives his fans spent begging to see the admirable female when she wasn’t present. It honestly made Aidan quite jealous.

Regardless it made Aidan’s heart feel unbelievably full that both he and his fans loved her as much as he desired. Mornings were spent holding each other with subtle morning kisses. Nights were spent eating take-out and playing the original Mario kart after many arguments that it was better than the newer versions.

Filming was almost complete, and Aidan’s stay in New York was coming to a very prominent close. A day neither lover was looking forward to. His home was in Los Angeles, and hers was in New York. There was no changing that.

“ Do you really have to go? “ Questioned the teary-eyed female, “ Unfortunately. “ Aidan sighed.

They both stood in JFK Airport as close as they could before having to depart. Aidan’s hands held her tear-stained cheeks, and she moved stray strands of hair from his forehead.

“ I promise, I will come back for you. “ Aidan pledged to, and she sniffled, nodding, “ I’ll move in with you if you want. “

Y/n looked up slightly guilty, “ I don’t want to be the reason you leave your hometown. You grew up there. Your entire family is there. I would feel awful taking you away from them. “ She admitted, “ I would be living here willingly. Plus, there’s more opportunities acting-wise here, believe it or not. Hollywood isn’t all it’s made out to be. The United Nations is also home to New York. It’d be closer to everything. “ Aidan explained.

“ If- If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t hesitate. “ Y/n smiled softly.

Aidan pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, “ Then this isn’t really goodbye, is it? “ Aidan’s whisper left a hot breath lingering on her lips, “ No, it isn’t. “ Y/n replied.

“ Stop your crying then. I hate seeing you cry. I will come back. “ He muttered softly, wiping her tears and kissing her forehead, “ I love you. “

“ I love you too. Be safe, please. Text me when you get on and when you land, okay? “ She requested, “ Always. “ Aidan simpered.

Gently he let her go and walked away with a tiny wave. Now there were only two things left to do. Pack up all of his stuff and play one last show in Los Angeles before leaving his home.

The male pack quickly when he arrived home, way too excited to live with his new partner. His show was scheduled for that night. Tonight he’d be playing his brand new song, the main song on his latest EP, the one he held close to his heart.

Nerves ran through his body like no tomorrow as he stepped up on stage. Screams were heard throughout the entire venue, making him smile brightly.

“ Hello everyone. “ Aidan greeted, getting screams in response, “ As you all may know, I will not be living in LA for much longer. New York seems more like home now than it’s ever seemed, so after this show, I’ll be getting on a plane to my new home. “

“ While I’ll play your favorite’s such as songs like Blue Neon and Fourth of July, there’s a new song at the end I’d love for your feedback on. I hold this song very close to my heart, and I hope you all will as well. So let’s get this started. “ Aidan informed with a gleeful smile present on his lips.

Aidan began strumming the guitar and singing the all too familiar lyrics. Applause was given in between each song, only encouraging his love for music as he continued to sing— his fans sung along with him giving Aidan a sense of love and commitment.

Finally, the last song was due to play, “ I call this last one, Comics. “

#aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher imagine #Aidan Gallagher x y/n #Aidan Gallagher x you #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 years

Text

reading update

what's up, tumblypoos? it's going to be a pretty short one this month, because I have NOT finished a lot of books since last time. the semester has started and made work hectic and exhausting, so much so that when I took a week off and hoped to spend most of it devouring books I ended up spending more time just vegetating to repair my brain.

also, unfortunately, I ran into my first DNF (that's Did Not Finish, for people who don't keep up with profoundly annoying book blogger terminology) in a LONG time, which I will absolutely be detailing below.

what have I been reading?

Lolita (Vladimir Nabokov) - I've always been vaguely curious, but then I listened to Jamie Loftus' brilliant Lolita Podcast and curiosity became somewhat urgent. (I'm relistening to it now, for the record, and I'm looking forward to being able to appreciate Loftus' empathetic analysis in a brand new way now that I've actually read the book she devotes ten episodes to talking about.) you all know I love a sharp, well-written profile of a monster; I had a great fondness for Alissa Nutting's Tampa, a book that follows a 21st century female pedophile that, in hindsight, takes place in vigorous conversation and has many clear parallels with Lolita. I'm also a huge sucker for a book about a truly miserable son of a gun pontificating on their own wretched time, and my god does Humbert Humbert pontificate. he's an excellently unreliable narrator, a heinous monster on trial doing his damndest to downplay his own violence. he wanders back and forth between talking himself up as improbably handsome and charismatic and insisting that he's quite harmless, basically innocent, totally a guy that we should just let go. and did he mention that he definitely didn't kill Dolores' mom? he definitely didn't, he just happened to think about killing her pretty often and in extreme detail and then coincidentally she died at a time that was terribly convenient for him. who hasn't been there? it's a funny story, not in a comedic way but in a painfully dry and brittle way, a deluded man viewing life through a nauseating lens that the reader can see through in an instant, all the way to the melancholy end. I absolutely understand anyone who says it isn't their cup of tea, but I'd highly recommend at least giving Loftus' podcast a listen if you're interested and able.

Women, Race, and Class (Angela Y. Davis) - this one also comes with a recommendation, and it's much shorter than the Lolita Podcast. I'd been meaning to get around to reading this for something like a year, ever since reading Davis' autobiography, but of all things it was a brief reference to Women, Race, and Class in Lily Alexandre's video "Do "Binary Trans Women" Even Exist? The Politics of Gender Conformity" that finally prompted me to nab it at the library. sometimes the universe just sends a sign, you know? it's a concise but thorough history, a tour through American slavery, suffragettes, social stratification, and socialism, presented in the no-nonsense style of Davis' that I appreciate so much. (seriously, if you want to start doing more antiracist and/or abolitionist reading but are intimidate by terminology - Davis. read Davis.) I particularly appreciated the dissection of certain white suffragette leaders turning their backs on antislavery and suffrage for Black Americans, fueled not only by racism but also by the perpetual pressure upon activists to turn upon each other and squeeze out causes that are seen as too radical to be convenient. it's illustrative, and unfortunately still supremely relevant. I wish this was the kind of thing I was reading when I was learning baby's first feminism.

what did I give up on?

Star Eater (Kerstin Hall) - beloved readers, I was excited for this one; you may recall that it was the last of the books on my Hot Book Summer list. it sounded like an incredibly promising dark fantasy about corrupt power structures and cannibalism. in short: the story takes place in a city floating above a world filled with undying monsters called Haunts, ruled over by the Sisters - an order of all-women magic-users whose powers are passed hereditarily from mother to daughter. but there are a few catches: the Sisters have a limited supply of magic, which is best replenished by eating the flesh of other Sisters. further, they must create more Sisters to maintain their power, but any man who has sex with a Sister is doomed to become Haunts who hunger for Sisters' flesh. so how do they solve these problems? easy: the Sisters reproduce through the ritualistic sexual assault of men who have received the death sentence, and maintain their magic by "martyring" their own mothers, essentially placing them in a coma to be consumed slowly. readers, none of this is what turned me off of this book. if anything, it all made me very excited. how absolutely despicably bleak! what an awful world! what a clever depiction of power, and the way it turns bodies into commodities to be devoured and thrown away! I was so excited to see how our hero, Elfreda Raugh, would take it down. and then... oof. and then, dear reader, Star Eater ended up feeling like a book that was written by going down a checklist of fantasy/dystopia YA tropes with a little rape and cannibalism thrown in for flavor. no spoilers (okay, maybe minor spoilers) but the most egregious points for me were the boring boy who was a childhood friend turned love interest, and Our Hero turning out to have extra special BONUS superpowers that made her, essentially, a living MacGuffin. I hope this book is someone's cup of tea, readers, but I cannot say it was mine.

what I'm reading now?

Midnight Sun (Stephenie Meyer) - you all knew this was coming. it's SO FUN and absolutely unhinged, and exactly what I needed to get out of my Star Eater-induced slump.

Perfect Me: Beauty as an Ethical Ideal (Heather Widdows) - this one is a bit of a tough read, because it's heavily rooted in philosophy and that's not the kind of reading I'm accustomed to, but it's eye-opening nonetheless. incidentally, also the result of a YouTube videos; link will be included in my next reading update.

what do I have on hold at the library?

The Other Black Girl (Zakiya Delila Harris)

Rewriting the Rules: An Anti Self-Help Guide to Love, Sex and Relationships (Meg-John Barker)

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao)

#bookblr #reading updates

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

good boy ❂ hjs

❂ pairing: han jisung x reader (ft. hyunjin, changbin, & minho)

❂ genre: smut (pretty much a pwp), slight fluff, crack

❂ summary: in which you encounter a baby boy in your kitchen and you just have to make him yours

❂ word count: 3.4k (this was supposed to be a *drabble* lol)

❂ warnings: 18+, cursing, dom/sub themes (dom!reader & sub!jisung), alcohol, smut [sex toys (cock ring), teasing, biting, spitting, edging, jisung being whiny, oral (m receiving), noona kink, voyeurism, nipple piercings]

“So, you’re saying you could get any girl in here?”

You scowl as you overhear this inane conversation happening in your very kitchen. When your roommate Jisoo said she wanted to have a few people over, you should have known she had really meant that she was going to invite the entire damn university.

Your small apartment is now overrun with co-eds, and you are planning to escape right back to your room once you finish grabbing your wine from the fridge. Parties aren’t really your thing. You prefer smaller and more intimate gatherings. But then again, your tastes have always been peculiar.

Which leads you to where you are right now, dressed only in your friend Soobin’s stolen t-shirt and your tiniest pair of sleep shorts, glaring over at the small group of gossiping boys across your kitchen island.

“Of course!” One of the boys nods, his full cheeks flushing. He’s admittedly cute with wide eyes and pouty lips. His hair is a mess of dark brown with lighter streaks mixed in. His whole vibe is amusingly at odds with his words.

“He’s such a sub,” You conclude, chuckling slightly. You’re pretty sure the only thing that boy can get from any girl in your place tonight is a thorough punishment.

You’re too deep in your analysis to notice that you had spoken aloud until you’re faced with four boys - three of which look entertained as hell and the fourth looks like he either wants to run away or to fight you.

“Can I help you boys?” You sigh, cradling your wine to your chest. This is why you should have bought a mini fridge - less social interaction.

“You think Han’s a sub?” The tallest boy grins at you, “Why?”

You smile slightly back up at him. He’s handsome, with striking eyes and a sexy as hell lip ring.

“I am not a sub,” Han whines, recapturing your attention with a glare and a vicious pout. “Take that back!”

God, he’s adorable. Your lips twitch as you try to remain impassive. You haven’t seen such a bratty boy since your last sub had graduated over the summer. And now you’ve been without one for about a month now… Maybe things could be looking up for you.

Maybe you’ll play with him and see.

“No,” You say, shrugging slightly, “I don’t see what’s so bad about being a sub anyway. Baby boys are always very well taken care of, Hannie.”

Two of the boys choke on their drinks, the one who had talked to you earlier gasps, and Han flushes bright red, his mouth opening and closing.

You grin wickedly at his speechlessness and saunter right up to him. Rising to your tiptoes, you lean into his body and whisper into his ear, “If you change your mind, my room is right down the hall, baby boy.”

You nip his earlobe lightly and then pull back. “Night, boys,” You wave with a smile as you exit the kitchen, sending a wink at Han who looks shell shocked.

And as you make your way down the hall, you hear, “Fuck me.”

You just hope he asks you that later.

Almost an hour later, your wine is halfway gone, and you’ve pretty much given up all hope on your prospective sub. Sighing, you take another sip of your pinot and contemplate going against all of your principles and venturing back out into the throes of the party.

And then you hear the lightest of knocks on your bedroom door. Your smile is immediate. Setting your glass down, you hop off your bed and pad over to open your door. Sure enough, Han stands there looking like he might bolt at any second.

You wait for him to speak first and watch gleefully as he fidgets under your gaze.

“S-sorry,” He finally mutters, turning away from you, “This was stupid. You obviously were just messing with me. God, now I look like a dumbass, and Hyunjin will never let me live this d—”

You take pity on the poor boy, grabbing his wrist and tugging him into your room. Shutting the door behind him, you point to your bed.

“Sit,” You order and internally squeal in excitement when he complies without hesitation. The way his wide brown eyes are gazing up at you makes you melt, but you keep it together. “Now, why did you decide to come visit me, Hannie?”

“Jisung,” He blurts out and then ducks his head, blushing.

“Jisung,” You test it out slowly, and he reacts, shuddering slightly. “You like it when I say your name, huh?”

“Yes, noona,” He nods, gaze still on the floor. You gently place two fingers under his chin and lift his face up to look at him.

“Jisungie,” You murmur, “Have you been asking about me out there? How do you know that I’m older than you?”

He blinks up at you, “I asked Jisoo-noona, and she said you’re in the same level as her.”

“Jisoo,” Your eyes narrow, and then you refocus on the situation at hand, “Now, Jisungie, I’ll only ask you one more time. Why are you in my room?”

You feel him swallow beneath your fingertips. “I-I don’t know,” He tries.

“Really,” you arch an eyebrow, swiping your thumb across the seam of his lips.

“Fine!” Jisung’s glare is as cute as it is fierce, “I’m here because you’re really hot even though you’re kind of scary and you embarrassed me in front of my friends and you might be out of my league and—”

You put your palm across his mouth, silencing him. “Oh, baby boy. Are you here because you think I’ll give you something? That’s not how this works, Jisungie. Subs have to earn their rewards, you see; and I don’t think you’ve earned one just yet.”

“How can I earn one?” He begs as soon as you take your hand away, “Please, noona. I’ve been half hard since you walked in the kitchen looking like you had just been fucked… But now I know it’s more likely that you had been the one to do the fucking.”

Oh my. Your mind connects the dots. “Baby boy, is that why you were making such outrageous claims?”

“Well,” He pouts, “I wouldn’t call them ‘outrageous’...” He notices your unimpressed expression and sighs, “Fine. Yes. I wanted to impress you, okay? Clearly that backfired.”

You can’t help yourself. You lean over Jisung and cup his cheeks in your hands, “Aw, you’re just so cute, Sungie. What am I going to do with you? No… more like what am I going to do with you first?”

Jisung squirms under you, bringing your attention to the growing bulge in his tight jeans.

“Are you drunk, lovely?” You purr, running your hands down his chest.

“N-no, noona,” His breath catches as you drag your hands farther down, teasing the waistband of his jeans.

“Do you have a safe-word?” You pause your ministrations and look into his eyes to assess his level of comfort.

“Damn,” He breathes, “You’re gonna fuck up my shit good, aren’t you, noona?”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling, “Not if you keep saying things like that.”

“Noted,” He salutes you with a smile and you glare. Straightening, you walk over to your drawer of fun.

“I’m still not hearing a safe-word, baby,” You call over your shoulder.

“Um,” His face scrunches up adorably as he thinks, “Yosemite?” You laugh slightly as you peruse your collection of sex toys. You had a poster from that National Park on your wall.

“Yosemite, it is,” You say, finally choosing your toy for the night. You flex the cock ring between your fingers. Oh yes, this would work just fine. “Baby,” You turn back to Jisung as he still sits on your bed. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands as they press into his crotch. “What are you doing?”

Jisung takes his hands away immediately, “Sorry, noona. You’re just so sexy.” His stare burns into your bare legs. And then he notices what you’re holding. “Oh, fuck.”

You laugh, “You’ll love it, baby. Promise. Now, I’m going to wash this, and when I get back, I want you stripped and laying on my bed, okay?”

He nods furiously. “Good boy,” You praise, and you almost sigh at the way he lights up at your words. How in the world has this boy not been claimed yet?

You head into your bathroom and take your time washing the ring. Even though you haven’t used this one yet, it still doesn’t hurt to be careful. Patting the cock ring dry, you reenter the bedroom and take in the sight before you.

Jisung is spread out on your bed, his cock hard against his stomach. His hands are clenched at his sides as he seems to be trying his hardest not to touch himself. You walk over to him, running your hand up his body as you go and then leaning down to place the lightest of kisses on his lips.

Pulling back, he tries to follow your mouth and you laugh, “Oh no, Sungie, you’ll take what I give you, and no more. Got it?”

He nods, not looking too pleased.

“I want your words, baby,” Your thumb pads over his nipple and he hisses a breath in between his teeth.

“Y-yes, noona,” He whines, already desperate for your touch.

“Good. Now, Sungie, have you ever used a cock ring before?” You ask, stretching the object in question out in front of you.

“No, noona,” Jisung bites his lip, squirming a bit on your bed as he stares at the way your fingers play with the ring. “But I want to try.”

“Okay, baby boy,” You kiss him again and he moans into your mouth as your tongue slides out to brush over his full lower lip. Pulling back slightly, you murmur, “Remember your safe-word, lovely.”

His wide eyes blink up at you and you can’t resist kissing him once more, this time nibbling his lip between your teeth and drawing a delicious whine from his throat.

You straighten and walk to the foot of the bed. Climbing up, you straddle Jisung’s legs and set the cock ring down to the side for now. “Ready, baby boy?”

“Fuck yes!”

You shoot him a look and he gulps, “I-I mean, yes, noona!”

God, he looks so good sprawled out underneath you, at your mercy. Even his cock is pretty, a feat you honestly hadn't been sure was possible. Oh, you are going to wreck this boy.

You lean over his cock and let your spit drip from your mouth and onto his length. Jisung moans as he watches you with dark eyes, his pupils blown out. “Noona is filthy,” He groans as you finally wrap your hand around him and slowly move it up and down to coat him fully.

Leaning down, you lick the bead of precum from the head of his cock and smirk at the low whine that Jisung makes in response. Gripping him tightly, you take more of his hard cock into your mouth and suck. You bob up and down, continuing to squeeze his base and his balls in your hands.

Jisung is quite vocal, you discover, as he moans your name in between what seems like every curse word under the sun. You swallow around him and almost laugh as he cries, “Fucking Christmas tree!”

You release him and giggle, “Christmas tree?”

“Noona,” He whines, “Don’t judge me. I can’t think when your mouth is on me.”

You just shake your head at the beautiful boy beneath you and then tell him, “Let me know when you’re about to come, okay?”

He nods swiftly, eagerly anticipating his release. Oh, what a mistake, you grin internally. You lick your way up his shaft from base to tip and then take him back into your mouth. You don’t take it slow like before; you blow him hard. Your hands squeeze him and you swallow him over and over.

His legs are shaking underneath you as his moans pick up in volume. You wonder if his friends can hear him now. Honestly, they’re probably right outside your door right now, you think. Might as well give them a good show to listen to…

“I-I’m gonna come,” Jisung groans, his hips thrusting up shallowly. You immediately tighten your grip around his base and remove your mouth from him.

Jisung gasps, “N-no! Please, I’m so close!”

You pay him no mind, grabbing the cock ring from beside you. “Do you remember your safe-word, Jisung?” You ask, pausing to make sure he’s still okay with what you plan to do.

“Ye-es, noona,” His teeth bite down on his lower lip as he looks at you desperately.

“And do you want to use it now?” You aren’t sure of his limits and you don’t want to push him too far.

“No, noona,” His eyes narrow resolutely, “Give it to me.”

“Oh, baby boy,” You grin, “I will.” Slowly, you slide the ring down his cock with ease after having thoroughly sucked him off already. “If this gets too tight, tell me right away, okay, baby?”

He nods, “F-feels good. Tight.” Your eyebrows raise. Does Jisung even know what cock rings are used for? You might have to pay closer attention to him than you thought.

You take him back into your mouth and his hips immediately thrust up. You push him down with your hands firmly pressed to his hips. You feel him swelling in your mouth as the blood gathers, no doubt making him more sensitive than before.

“A-ah, noona!” Jisung moans. His hand latches into your hair as your mouth sinks up and down on his cock. “G-gonna come, please.”

Oh, baby… You nod despite knowing his impending disappointment. He would learn quickly. You take him deeper than before, your nose brushing his pelvis, and he comes without the rush of relief that usually accompanied the sensation.

You pull back, watching as his face contorts in an array of emotions in a short moment - elation, confusion, frustration, dissatisfaction. “N-noona,” He cries, looking down at you in horror, “What—?”

Gripping him lightly, you marvel at the thickness of his length and the veins that pop out, more pronounced than before.

“You’re so pretty, Sungie. So good for me, baby,” You murmur as his eyes squeeze shut just from the mere stimulation of your palm surrounding him. You kiss his cock, worshipping it with your mouth, with your tongue.

“Noona,” Your eyes flick up to look at Jisung’s face. Tears are leaking from his eyes as his chest heaves. “Please. Have to come so bad, it hurts.”

You release him and he sobs, “No-o! Noona!” His hands grip his cock, but he’s so sensitive that he releases it immediately. More tears flow from his wide eyes as he pleads, “Please, noona, please.”

You aren’t even sure he knows what he’s asking for; and so you decide to present him with some options.

“Baby boy,” You press kisses up his stomach, his chest, and finally to his cheeks. Wiping his tears, you gently kiss his lips. “Do you want to come in noona’s mouth or on her tits?”

Jisung’s eyes widen more than you thought possible as he practically yells, “Tits! Please, let me come on noona’s tits!”

Placing one last kiss on his lips, you move back down his body and tug your shirt over your head.

“Fuck,” Jisung breathes as his eyes immediately drop to your chest, taking in your pierced nipples. “Noona, you’re so beautiful, so fine.”

“Oh, baby boy,” You laugh, “You’re so sweet.”

“Not sweet,” He scowls, “I’m strong. A tough man. A ah—”

You grab his cock and squeeze, effectively cutting him off. “You were saying?” You grin.

“So evil,” He mutters, his voice cracking.

Chuckling, you slowly and gently remove the cock ring from his hard length. If you’re being honest with yourself, you really want to sit on it right now. But it’s too soon for that entirely. So you’ll just have to settle for making this cute little baby boy come harder than he’s ever come before.

Jisung is already a moaning mess underneath you as his blood-flow finally returns, heightening his sensitivity. And when you take him into your mouth, he lets out a string of what you can only assume to be curses that definitely are not in any language you’re familiar with.

Your tongue swipes over the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. One hand moves up and down his base while the other moves up his body to tug on his nipples. Jisung’s head is thrown back as his abs clench, his thighs shake. He’s moaning your name like a prayer as his fingers dig into your hair.

“I’m close,” Jisung groans, “Please, noona!”

You pull back, keeping your hand firmly on his cock, moving up and down. You move your body closer to him as he comes. Ropes of his come coat your tits as he moans loudly at the sight and at the sensation of finally getting his release. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He chants, still coming. You carry him through his orgasm, stroking him and murmuring sweet words.

Finally, he sinks back into the softness of your bed, spent. You continue to stroke him, “How are you feeling, baby boy?”

“Fucking great,” Jisung grins, looking so fucked out. “Noona, you’re like an orgasm wizard.”

“I’m a what?” You laugh, releasing him and hopping up off the bed. You start to shuffle over to your bathroom to get cleaned up, but Jisung whines, stopping you in your tracks.

“No-o, noona, come back,” He pleads, “Wanna see your tits up close.”

“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes, but give in nonetheless. Quickly grabbing a damp washcloth from your bathroom, you walk back over to Jisung. He props himself up on his elbows, taking the sight of his come on your chest.

“Damn,” He licks his lips, “Noona, you look so good covered in my come. You made me come so fucking hard. Come on, let me taste you. Let me make you come this time.”

You shake your head, smiling, “Oh no, baby boy. You still haven’t earned that privilege yet.”

“What!?” Jisung fully sits up now, “But-but, noona! You have to be so wet right now, right? Please.”

You lean down, a breath away from his lips as you say, “I am so fucking wet for you, Sungie. And once you leave, I’m going to touch myself to the image of you falling apart under me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches, rendered speechless. You move away from him, wiping your chest clean and shrugging your t-shirt back on.

“Stay here,” You order, turning back to look at the beautifully ruined boy on your bed, “I’m going to get you some water.”

He just nods, pouting adorably. Oh, he is going to be so much fun, you think. Flicking the lock on your door, you pull it open and sigh at the sight you’re met with.

Three boys stare at you with wide eyes and varying states of embarrassment. Jisung’s friends, as predicted, had indeed enjoyed the show if their unbuttoned jeans were any indication. The boy with black hair and intense dark brown eyes blushes under your assessment. Next to him, the boy with lighter brown hair and delicate features stares back at you with a somewhat challenging look in his eyes. And, finally, the tallest boy with that goddamned piercing licks his lips, tongue flicking over the silver hoop on his lower lip.

“Enjoy the show, boys?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Not as much as Han,” The light haired boy mutters.

You size him up, “And your name is?”

“Minho,” He answers, glowering. “That’s Hyunjin and Changbin,” He adds, pointing at lip ring and dark eyes.

“Minho,” You murmur, reaching out to brush your thumb across his cheek, “Be a darling and get your friend Han a glass of water, would you? He just came so hard all across my tits - as I’m sure you heard - and he needs to hydrate.”

They gape at you once again, eyes flicking down every so often.

“Well?” You level Minho with a stare that sends him off. You wait for his return in tense silence, and when he finally reappears with glass in hand, you accept it from his grasp.

“Now,” You say, addressing the three of them, “Are you going to come in? Or are you just going to stand out here all night?”

And that’s how you end up spending your Friday night surrounded by four good boys.

You just might like parties after all.

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m88n · 3 years

Text

[11.06 pm]

“Wanna drink?”

Your ears perk up at Johnny’s remark, as he breaks the silence by hovering over his teal-colored mini fridge. You met Johnny at this summer camp from some university club, and you guys bonded over some drinks there (you cried a little because you’re an emotional drunk) and before you know it, you’re crashing into his dorm room tonight just because you have time to spare and he told you he’s free via text. But with the entire setting of the summer camp removed, you discover that making conversation becomes a little bit more of a problem than you both initially thought—that is, until alcohol was brought to the picture.

“Yeah. Love drinking. You know I do,” You eagerly respond. He beams at you with a knowing nod.

“Aye, yeah our soju queen. One sip y/n.” He recalls as he opens up two new bottles of soju, handing one over to you.

“Shut up,” You joke with a smile, “We had a great time cause of my drunk antics, you gotta admit.”

“Yeah, was pretty cool when you chased me to the boys’ bathroom just to force me to talk about my repressed feelings.” He says mockingly, but with affection.

“You did talk about them though! And you even cried with me too!” You insist.

Johnny chuckles as he sits across you on the carpeted floor, taking a sip, “Alright, but I wasn’t the one who sobbed on the bottom bunk right after we went back to our room.”

“…Shit, you heard me cry?” You say, wide-eyed in realization.

“Yeah, everyone in that room heard it.” He says laughing, nudging you to drink from your bottle, and you finally took a sip.

“…Damn, and I thought everyone was asleep…” You mutter in thought, face blushing pink from the alcohol—and the embarrassment. “I just have a lot of feelings, man… You know how it goes.”

Johnny lays on his side, hand cradling his head as he looks at you. “Yeah, I know. You were cute.”

You stare at him for a second, flustered at his sudden remark, “Don’t give me that bro… It’s embarrassing.” You finally respond.

“Aw cmon y/n, I thought we’re way past that. You massaged me and everything.” He teases you.

You furrow your brows at the memory—that’s always been your underhanded technique when you’re flirting with someone, but you were drunk. So you’re not completely sure what to make out of that, and just decide to brush any complicated feelings aside.

“I did tell you it was a platonic massage when I massaged you!” You finally say, pointing accusingly at him with your free hand.

Johnny scoffs incredulously. “What’s a platonic massage anyway…” He sips from his bottle, “You’re really good though.”

You wink, “I know.”

Both of you continue to drink and chat until even Johnny’s exhibited some slurred speech. It took him more than two bottles to get to this point, while for you, one bottle was plenty enough. At this point, both of you have heightened emotionality and vulnerability due to the effects of the alcohol, and are quickly heading towards exchanging deeper conversations—and gazes—as you do.

“…You know, I just feel this desperate need to make people feel good, to help people, it makes me feel really happy.” You say, head floating in the clouds. “That’s why, I feel like I could sense you repressing stuff, and really went for it.”

Johnny chuckles. “What about you though?”

“Huh?”

“What about what makes you feel good?” He clarifies.

You narrow your eyes. “Are you making a move on me when I’m trynna be all honest, Mr. John Suh?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, my question’s genuine. Not that I’d oppose to that if offered—How do you think you’re going to know what you need when you look out for others so much?”

You decide to ignore his suggestive remark and try to respond to the rest as coherently as possible, “I… I don’t know. I guess that’s where I’ve come to derive my self-worth from.” You manage to say softly, eyes half-lidded, head pleasantly buzzing with the high yet mingling with the dawning realization for the issue Johnny’s brought upon you.

Johnny nods at you, listening.

You bite the lid of the bottle that you’ve been sipping from before saying, “I don’t think I really even know myself that well. I mean, I guess I do, but it’s like, the feeling of knowing someone but not really. Feeling so physically close to yourself but so far removed from the actual contents of the depths of your mind and soul. You know?”

Johnny nods again, silent, before finally saying with heavy lidded eyes, “…Repression, am I right?”

You look at him wide-eyed, as he smiles a little.

“How the turn tables—” He manages to finish before you smack his arm gently.

“I knew you’d say that... Shut up,” You say, a smile threatening to break onto your face. He responds with a hearty chuckle.

“Hey that one’s a classic, cmon. I guess now’s my turn to play shrink,” He jokes, “Alright, do you even know your own qualities, like, what makes y/n, y/n, you get me?”

You narrow your eyes, as if it would help with clearing your intoxicated mind for a more thorough analysis into your own entire being. Johnny leans against his bed, arms crossed, patiently waiting for your response.

“…Erm… Well I guess I could be pretty nice,” You muse, “…Pretty artsy…. Pretty…. Pretty? Hahah nah, jokes…” You say, chuckling to yourself as you continue to dig for answers.

Johnny just smiles, before saying, “Hey, be confident. This is you we’re talking about.”

“….What do you mean by that?” You ask thoughtlessly, still swimming in inebriation and confusion for your own identity.

“I mean, I think you’re pretty cool.” He says to you straightforwardly, “Wouldn’t have bailed on my guys if I didn’t think so.” You follow his movements as he lights a joint after saying that with complete lightness, which takes you absolutely off guard.

“Wait, but I thought you were free?” You finally ask.

“We wouldn’t hang if I told you that. You’re never free.” He says, exhaling a puff, then offering you to take a hit, to which you accept. “If I don’t bail on my guys, you’d bail on me.”

“… You have a point,” You exhale, “Honestly, it’s really just cause I enjoy my time alone. Apart from all the responsibility stuff.”

He nods, “Fair.”

“To answer your question though,” You continue, “I mean—since you think I’m pretty cool ahah,” You joke, looking at him for any reaction, continuing after he lets out a chuckle, “What do you think?”

He takes a long drag from the joint, “Hey, this is about self-awareness!” He finally quips, chains of smoke spreading with his every breath.

“Aw cmon, whatever, I just want to feel good,” You say, “You were asking me what’ll make me feel good, this’ll make me feel good.”

He narrows his eyes, sighs defeatedly, all while smiling at your clever remark. “Fine, you got me.”

You wear a shit-eating grin with the small victory, expectantly waiting for his continuation.

“I think you’re as real as it goes,” He says, maintaining a steady gaze towards your eyes, “You’re really genuine, interesting, and you have the power to move people. Not that you’re aware of. Too kind to others, sometimes you forget to save some for yourself,”

You were not expecting such a thoughtful answer, your cheeks flush a deeper pink—and not from the alcohol.

“So, you gotta work on that. Super talented. Really attractive too,” He lightly adds.

You stop him in his tracks by shyly shoving the palm of your hand in between you two, “Whoa, whoa, stop, you like me or something? This might as well be a confession, am I right or what,” You joke, feeling too flustered by the string of compliments he let out.

He does not reciprocate your laughs, instead smiling. Your eyes widen with his lack of response. He looks at the ceiling, hand rubbing his jaw in thought, before his gaze snaps right back to your eyes with gentle conviction.

“But would you still bail on me if I ask you on a date though?”

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betweentheracks · 3 years

Note

Are you willing to speculate about Yizhan? If not kindly ignore this ask. I'm just wondering from your perspective which of the "sharing clothes" pics on the internet is more likely to be actual personal choice between those two, if any?

Hello! Sorry for the delay in getting to this, been rather chaotic on my end of things as I adjust to being home from the hospital and establishing a new routine to manage my health from now on. I’ve been thinking on this ask for a while and how I wanted to approach it and think I have finally settled on a proper way to tackle it.

First, I am not unwilling to speculate on yizhan given that I am very keen on the developments of both their careers and their perceived relationship, whatever it may be. However, I will only be comfortable discussing them from the POV of my role as a stylist and fashion worker/enthusiast. I don’t want this blog to become another rumor mill or become a look-to for “proof” of things in regards to their relationship. There is no true way to prove whether they do in fact share clothes, gift each other accessories, or purposefully “match” their looks. To do so I would have to be their personal styling manager and, dream of exactly that as I may, I am merely a fan with the eyes of someone that works in the field and can therefore only offer my own thoughts and opinions on these so-called candies hidden through their styling choices.

To avoid any further chafing like my post about the DS2 jeans created I will only speak to what I know firsthand of the operations of the Asian fashion circuit and styling industry. I can provide insight into how their trends rise and fall on a cycle, how they often use fashion and style as a means to express not only their cultures but sometimes reflect the current climate of the entertainment world, and of how China specifically all but corners the market on underground fashion and streetstyle. This would then be laid over the context of, let’s say, Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan’s evolution of style throughout their career and highlight the key features of how their looks tend to be tailored with a subtle nuance of their status combined with their country’s current trends. You can expect a post at a later time (after some thorough investigating and proper sourcing) which will look into exactly all of this and touch specifically on the best known looks they’ve been styled in with a breakdown on how those styles were framed, layered together, and then finally restyled to give emphasis to each of their unique features and overall image promotion.

I will also provide my insights on which features are almost surely items they themselves chose, brought in, or otherwise requested be included. These are mostly accessory pieces that, to my trained eyes, do not fit or flow with the overall intended aesthetic and yet have been properly enmeshed by the style as if to blend them into the final result. My own experience lends many points of reference for artists that have comfort items they refuse to part with that I have had to later find ways to make appear to be a legitimate choice which neither clashes with nor belongs to the finished look. This extends to this ask in that this is why my answer on what my perspective on yizhan “sharing clothes” will be short.

So, what is my perspective on them sharing clothes? It isn’t outside the realm of possibility, nor is it anything I can verify from my lack of personal interaction with them or any of the rumored articles of clothes. What I am willing to comment on is that celebrities and idols, no matter where they are located, overlap in a style and fashion sense both in public spaces and platforms and also in their private lives. It’s not uncommon to buy a brand or even exact style of something and later see that someone else has it as well, and from what I have seen I can say with some degree of certainty that Yibo and Zhan have similar tastes, though still incredibly diverse.

I will later make a post speculating on which brands they each frequent and, by extent, share preference for as well the alleged gifts of accessories they are often seen to be wearing which are widely talked about. I think less of the clothing they are rumored or thought to share and lean more into the idea of them having exchanged items which would be easier to wear under the watchful gaze of public interest and also the inherently personal or intimate nature of giving someone a necklace, ring, bracelet, or set of earrings. It is also much easier to talk a stylist into making an allowance for such items since they are small and can be properly incorporated into an ensemble, or even tucked away into a pocket or beneath the high neckline of a good shirt. As I said, many artists tend to have comfort items or good luck charms or any matter of small in size items that they are hesitant to leave behind when making public appearances. Artists are still people beneath the veneer we stylists mask them in and sometimes need that little bit of themselves to take with them and be grounding in the face of media being in their personal space and making assessments of the them that is being presented.

Apologies for the overall evasive answer, but this ask really did get me thinking and rather than leaving it to sit and idle in my box and make the person asking wait until who knows when, I chose to do it this way. The ask itself is the inspiration for why I want to make the posts I mentioned - it really tripped my thinking on all of this and the fashion enthusiast in me is frothing at the mouth with the prospect of real time breakdowns to expose the amount of work that went into some of your favorite yizhan ensembles. The accessories thing also sparked from a similar desire to be as thorough as possible before I give any careless answers.

You all are very dedicated and passionate and deserve to be treated with a sense of professional courtesy in that I can give you a glimpse into understanding the styles that rendered you speechless or blew you away. Likewise, I think the only responsible way to handle any of the candies that are trademarks of BJYX fandom would be to offer you a different type of breakdown that would adhere to why certain things that you tend to perceive as candy is given context of why some things, to me, look out of place and could truly be a personal touch. This would both exonerate me from having confirm or deny topics I have no means of knowing about while offering a gratifying alternative analysis that stands neutral.

Thanks for the question! I will surely be back with more and also to let everyone know more about these posts as I get nearer to establishing them!

#racks asks #yizhan #bjyx #style #wang yibo #xiao zhan

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johannstutt413 · 3 years

Text

(requested by calligomiles)

“Patient status: nominal.” Ptilopsis was talking to her transcription machine as she went about her work. “Anesthetic arts administered. Recharging before applying further treatment. Miss Swire, are you awake?”

The Feline, reclining in her bed, yawned. “Mm-huh...What happened?”

“Patient is requesting information about her previous mission. You suffered a concussive impact from a Reunion Caster Leader while engaging a pair of runners. No Infection present, but you have been prescribed with bed-rest once the initial treatment is finished.” The Liberi twittered, flexing her fingers as she prepared for the final step of said treatment.

“Goootcha.” The money-cat chuckled to herself. “My head feels funny. What did you give me, Miss Ptilopsis?”

She grimaced. “Only local anesthetics were administered...The arts shouldn’t have such side effects...The damage may be more serious than anticipated. Your physician will examine you more thoroughly before conducting a more thorough diagnosis.”

“You’re my physician, right?”

“...Yes.” Bedside manner was difficult in the analyst’s position. “Usage of first-person pronouns is limited as a result of errors in personal data storage.”

Swire stared at her for a minute before nodding. “Riiiight. Well, whenever you’re ready, Miss Tilly.”

“Beginning diagnostic scan.” Ignoring the charge she’d already prepared for the recovery phase, Ptilopsis sent a couple motes through her eyes for a full X-ray analysis. Bones were good, muscles were as to be expected, organs...huh.

“You’re squinting real tight, Miss Tilly.” The Feline was looking her directly in the eye, although with the Analysis Art active that wasn’t terribly obvious to the Medic. “Is something wrong?”

After a moment, the Liberi shook her head. “No. Nothing is wrong. I...You’re simply tired.”

“Oh! Okay then. That’s a relief...Don’t scare me like that.” She pouted at her.

“Right, right.” Firewall breached. 1 new virus found: affection. “...Brief system reset conducted. Readying final step of treatment.”

Roughly three minutes had passed on record since her micro-sleep, but already, her patient was fast asleep and softly purring. After channeling the necessary energy to complete the recovery boosting art she’d prepared, Ptilopsis pulled a chair over to the bed and, with a sigh, shut down again. This was...more taxing than she’d expected it to be.

Upon waking up, there was a Swire in her face. “Gaooo!~”

“All systems online!” Her eyes opened to their maximum resolution in an instant. “Oh...Miss Swire.”

“Good morning! Sleep alright?” The Feline was now a respectable distance away, a smug smirk on her face.

The analyst simply nodded. “Yes...Current time?”

“1800 hours our time.” The money-cat’s stomach audibly grumbled. “Dinner time! Restaurants deliver here, right?”

“Delivery services available. Would you like to place an order?”

She chuckled. “I can do that with my phone, silly. Actually, can I get you something while I’m doing that? You must’ve slept through lunch, too.”

“Operation began at 1100...Appointment missed: Midday Calorie Intake.” Her stomach rumbled on cue. “Ptilopsis would like to know her options?”

“Oh, whatever you want. I could go for anything right now.” Swire gave her a warm smile, a beam of sunlight straight through her heart.

Virus spreading. No available countermeasures. Ptilopsis blushed. “Um, Ptilopsis would like a bread bowl, please.”

“Ooh, good choice! Let’s see, so that’d be them, huh?” She scrolled through her phone, chatting to herself for a moment, before looking back to the Liberi. “Today’s special is chowder, how does that sound?”

“Fine, thank you. Ptilopsis would like to know if she needs to repay you for ordering?”

The Feline chuckled. “You already did.”

“Ptilopsis hasn’t exchanged money for goods or services since breakfast.” Her eyes narrowed. “Miss Swire…?”

“No, I meant- Well, you were just so cute while you were sleeping, and you fixed me up, so I thought, you know, since you spent your lunch on me, I figured I should buy you dinner as a trade.”

The analyst nodded, face returning to its preferred neutral state (albeit still blushing). “Understood. Swire is...also cute while sleeping.”

“And awake, too, right?” She had no trouble catching the blush spread. “Hehe~ I thought my wake-up roar had an effect on you.”

“That was a roar? Error: roar.wav not found in cache.” Ptilopsis chirped happily at her own comment.

Swire pouted again, and the Liberi felt her heart go into stack overflow. “What, I didn’t scare you?”

“...No, you didn’t.” She scooted her chair closer to the bed. “It was too adorable to scare me.”

“Oh, now you can talk about yourself? Great, so you can tell me straight up: am I cute?”

That wasn’t how this worked, but, “Yes, I think you’re cute.”

“Fantastic.” The Feline glanced at her phone. “We still have twenty minutes before they get here...You said bed rest, right? For how long?”

“Until okayed by your physician. I will be your supervising physician while you recover.” There was a curious gleam in her eye as she said it.

The money-cat tapped the Liberi’s nose with her finger. “Well, maybe when I’m feeling better, we can go do something fun. Like, go see a movie or something?”

“...End recording.” Ptilopsis made sure the light had stopped blinking before continuing. “Start recording. Lower projector.”

“Wait, you can do that?” As Swire asked the question, a mounted projector was descending from the ceiling.

The Medic nodded. “The mount was at one point employed for dental appointments, but Ptilopsis is not a dentist, so she repurposed it for her own use. A new FEater film was recently released; would that be something you’d like to watch tonight?”

“Oh, that sounds great,” she agreed, “but there’s no way you have the...You have the movie?!”

“Ptilopsis is Rhodes Island’s Data Recording Officer, after all.” The Liberi chirped proudly.

Swire simply shook her head. “You’re really something, Tilly. Well, we should wait until after the food gets here.”

“Agreed.” The analyst’s eyes hadn’t moved from the Feline’s face since they’d started talking, although they had drifted around it more than a few times by this point. “While we wait?”

“While we wait?...You, um, wouldn’t happen to have any data on making out in there, would you?”

Ptilopsis’ pupils tapered into hearts. “Loading files. Proceed to playback?”

“Okay, that’s...kinda hot,” she muttered to herself. “Proceed, yes, please.”

“Consent acquired. Resolving command. Chu~~~”

#arknights #arknights fic #ptilopsis (arknights)#swire (arknights)#hey calligo #ptilopsis was the one who was supposed to blue screen right?#WHY AM I THE ONE SUFFERING A CUTENESS OVERLOAD THEN

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