#skin artists i love you alas we are not all skin artists </3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aviradasa · 4 months

Text

The sight of two stars

Aaravos x Startouched elf! Reader

(art from Pinterest if you know the original artist let me know so I can give proper credit!!)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Fluff}

warning: none

I had this idea for a while about Aaravos with a reader who likes to find constellations on his skin and I started this oneshot expecting it to take a completely different path but I love how it turned out and I'm low key proud with the idea. The execution is not my best work but we have fun here!😂. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy! I hope this will be able to hold you over for a few more days as I have 3 more one shots/images in the making that should come out shortly! Anyway, it's almost 3 am and I have to drive for 5 hours back home tomorrow 😭.

(ps:I had to make up a constellation for this that sounded more magical so I did! But all the other constellations are either from the show or a real constellation!)

Don't forget you can leave a request! I will link my master list here make sure you read before requesting! Love you all my little goblins 🖤

I have always loved the night sky And everything that belongs to it. I've especially always been drawn to constellations. The way the stars are set just perfectly to make a work of art when in reality they are so far from one another that they are not aware that their portrait is beautiful in a way.

It's been so long since I was able to gaze upon them. Being imprisoned for centuries with no windows or fresh air is a burden in itself, But losing my Night sky, it almost felt like I had lost myself. Well, I didn't lose all of myself. My lovely husband keeps me Sane (When he's not driving me Insane).

He's the reason I’m here in the first place. What is it with dragons anyway, It was just a couple of war crimes and whatnot, And I wasn't even involved. With the crimes that is. yes, I may have given my lovely starman some ideas every once in a while, But I never got my hands dirty. I was just a performer, Singing and dancing in town squares, Taverns, inns you name it. But alas here we are. Here I am. Stuck in this hell, with no sky, just that Damned mirror. I hate that mirror, Well I hate being in range of that mirror. To know someone could be watching me from the other side unnerves me and I avoid it at all cost.

I hear the door open to the room I have placed myself in, another room in this prison. It's a little library with books on all sorts of things. it's my favorite spot in this wretched place. My little slice of heaven.

I glance up from my book watching Aaravos enter the room with that cloak on, I can’t help but love the way he looks in it, and with the way I look at him, I’m worse than any man.

“My love, Why do you gaze at me in such a way? I can feel your eyes from here” He teases, taking his cloak off and hanging in on a small hook by the tall doors before looking over at me with that Smirk he gives. I love this elf but by the Divines why must he do this?

I shake my head with a chuckle, placing my bookmark in the spot I left off before closing my book. Setting it down gently on the table beside the little sofa I've curled up on. “ Am I not allowed to admire you?.’ I jokingly ask with a small grin as I allow him to take a seat beside me.“So how was your dramatic entrance? Did that Dark mage see you this time like you wanted?” I ask turning to face him resting my arm on the back of the sofa and using my hand to prop up my head.

“Everything went according to plan. His candle went out. I went in, confused him, and left. Just as Intended.” He tells me with a cocky smile.

“Now everything should fall into place, he’s a curious desperate, power-hungry human. That is just the combination we are looking for if we wish to get out of here.” I say with some excitement,

“but my love do not get cocky yet because if one little piece is lost, broken, or forgotten, we will be stuck here. And If we are stuck in here for another century I will skin you alive.” I warn with a stern expression before I chuckle a bit.

He laughs a bit “ No you wouldn’t, 'cause then you would be all alone in this place and we both know you couldn't take that.” He says pulling me closer to his side.

“What are you talking about? Some peace and quiet would be lovely. Maybe then I could finish my book.” I joke as I adjust to get a bit more comfortable. “Ah yes, what book are you reading currently again? It was something to do with the differences between human interpretations of constellations and Elven interpretations correct?” he asks genuinely curious about my interest,

He remembers my love of the night like no other, for he loved it as well. but now it's hard to remember what it's like. Of course, there are illustrations in the books but those illustrations can only capture so much, yes some books do better than others but the true beauty of the night sky can only truly be appreciated in person. Well, maybe something can come close.

“Yes that's right, and honestly humans need to get a bit more creative. I mean they Named Garlath the Annihilator the Big Spoon… Because they thought it looked like a spoon." I say with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. “ and also they call Leolas' last wish the South Star. Talk about imagination.'' I speak with disappointment. Aaravos just simply chuckles “Those names the humans gave them came to be long before this generation, they are simple and easy for their minds to comprehend but I do agree they were quite lazy.” he says in agreement.

I think he gives them too much credit. but what can I say I lost patience with humans during my time performing. Aaravos on the other hand has plenty, but then again he was more respected by them due to the whole giving them magic ordeal which I understand but still, humans are like an annoying younger sibling. you love them and would do what you could to protect them from others, but you would definitely rip their vocal cord out and strangle them with it as soon as they call you ugly.

I sigh “Perhaps I'm a bit harsh on them sometimes, but I can't help it. I feel like I'm losing my mind here, I'm not even sure how much time has passed anymore.” I explain as I absentmindedly trace little patterns on his freckled arm that rests around my waist, as I'm doing this a particularly bright star freckle brings my mind back into focus and I notice something. “Wait a moment…” I say suddenly as Aaravos gives me a confused look “What is it?” he asks simply before I place my thumb over the spot on his arm to not lose it reaching over I grab my book and open it to a certain page leaving him to his confusion as i scan the books page.

“Aha! I thought that looked familiar, darling." I say lifting my thumb off the spot on his arm and placing the book's page next to it. The page has an illustration of a constellation on it, and it just so happens that the little star freckles on his arm connect to make the same one. “Hm well isn't that interesting? I had not noticed that none yet ” he says, grabbing the book from my hand to examine it.

“ Well it says that it's called the eye of Izora, it has 8 stars on top making the upper eyelid, and 5 stars that make up the bottom. The iris is made up of 4 stars in between with the pupil being a completely different constellation (Leola’s last wish). The eye has 7 stars above it making it appear as though the eye has three separate eyelashes with another 7 on the bottom doing the same. In the human kingdoms, it's not known” he reads with a hint of interest. He looks between the book and the spot on his wrist where I found the constellation.

“ isn't that interesting? Oh, I just love finding new ones they are harder to find on you than they are on me for some reason.." I tell you with a grin, snatching the book back. I search through the pages as I scan the rest of his arm looking for more connections. this is one of my favorite things to do, I've found plenty of constellations on myself but with Aaravos they are harder to find because he has a lot more stars on him then I do and they make it harder to connect them,

Minutes pass before I find another new one… It was right in front of us but my eyes couldn't make it out right away. “I see one right there but I can't make out what that one is, It's definitely something though. Can you tell what it is?” I ask Aaravos looks at it for a moment, tilting his head to the side a bit trying to get another angle to look at it but failing.

he seems to think for a moment before he grabs a quill out of the inkpot that sits on the end table next to the sofa, he places the tip of the quill on his skin tracing in between the stars on his arm. As I look through the book I hear him hum “It looks like a scorpion look it up in the book I think we finally found it.” he says, showing me the connected lines.

“I think you're right.” I say glancing at his armbefore turning to the next page and seeing the scorpion-like constellation, it matches the one on his arm and I grin “We found it, I knew it was around here somewhere, we all have our star sign on us, yours just was hiding all these years.” I laugh and he does too “I found it once before I believe but I lost it and didn't find it again until now.” he says holding it up

“ well maybe once we get out of here you should get it tattooed so you don't lose where it is again.” I joke And Aaravos laughs a bit “My love you know I would never do that, it's not my style, besides I am already vastly decorated anyways.’ he says in a kind of sassy tone. As we both laugh some more

As the day? Night? Carried on We both continued our search for more constellations on his skin. It wasn't long before we had mapped out at least a dozen from his wrist to his shoulder connecting the stars with thin lines of writing ink that was smudging in some places but neither of us cared because this was one of the few moments where neither of us are frantically searching or planning. It was just us, then again it's always just us, but moments like this bring us back to reality when we didn't even realize we were drifting away from ourselves, and each other. I know we are gonna make it out of this prison one day, and once we do I know it's going to be just the two of us against all of Xadia. But that's ok I know we will be able to take care of it. And at least I'll have my night sky back.

#tdp #tdp rayla #tdp s1 #tdp spoilers #aaravos #tdp claudia #tdp s5 #aaravos x reader #aaravos the dragon prince #tdp aaravos #aaravos x reader smut #tdp callum

43 notes · View notes

rollercoasterwords · 1 year

Note

Dear Rae,

I am sorry I simply can not shut up, THE FEAST YOU SERVED US. My head is in my hands and I am shaking my head just drowning in the immensity of it all. I really didn't want to come here with some corny tapestry metaphor but the bayeux could never, one thread snags and another one weaves a new, even brighter , image onto the fabric, !!!

You gave us Lilly (lilly pining for james, sire.. i've never even seen this) , slutty James potter (he is my life line), The Midas reveal???!! The regulus plot line thickens- you said he was really dead but... dead in what way... who did james want them to ask?? The rabbit hole deepens...the red pill is down my throat we are in howls room in the moving castle.... "you're so used to looking away"... the unicorn blood (I'm scared), seeing remus in his own glamour for so much of his POV, the weight the line has always carried some how even heavier... it is on my neck and I cant breath!

You dropped one the most beautiful lines i've ever read in my life, what did you even do with yourself after you wrote; "every so often the universe makes an artist of itself in its arrangement of atoms into a body of matter" ... I was personally not okay, I could have gone my whole life without seeing those words strung together but life was really looking out for me today.

The detail about the gold earrings for the werewolf SW was just... such an incredibly visceral detail and coupled with the golden leash. The image of them in the cage together ..

I think what I loved also about remus POV was that although their perspectives were so vastly different, there were still moments where they didn't miss each other and where what was going on between them still felt undeniable? Sirius may be oblivious and Remus may be playing him like a fiddles, but he's gotten under his skin still hasn't he. He hates it but it's true. Theres also always such an innocence to Sirius, even when he's guilty and seeing that through Remus eyes was truly so gorgeous as well !

Thank you so much, Rae, your story means so much I COULD WRITE SO MUCH MORE but i'm trying to practice restraint.

Please take care!!

looking forward to having you back in July , or whenever you're ready <3

hi omg loving the metaphors....the imagery....will of course be holding my silence on any spoilers but 🤭🤭🤭 yes many possibilities indeed....

also glad u liked the artist line bc i actually hate it lmfao everytime i read back over that bit i'm like god i need 2 change this it's insufferable....but alas i was too lazy 2 go back and rewrite so. appreciate knowing that it was not as annoying as i thought it was

and remus playing sirius like a fiddle 💀 v true i was giggling + kicking my feet reading people's comments like 'omg remus is falling for him....' although. well u r perhaps correct abt sirius getting under his skin....who could say.....

tysm 4 the kind words 💕 💞

#ask #wfrau

25 notes · View notes

moonctzeny · 3 years

Text

love to hate me

request: celebrity! jaehyun + enemies to lovers + “don’t you want to know how i feel?”

pairing: friends to enemies to lovers! jaehyun x female reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff... this fic has it all folks

word count: 7.514k

warnings: toxic behaviour, public sex, light restraining, jaehyun pulls a ‘white boy punching the wall’ at some point

summary: “You and Jaehyun meet as SM trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you deicde to leave the company and pursue a solo career. When you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. Your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other”

a/n: this is the longest it has ever taken me to finish a fic.. I have a love-hate relationship with this (no pun intended XD). I hope whoever requested this likes it!

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

Of-fucking-course you had to bump into him out of all people at the vending machine. All you wanted was a drink to refresh you before you got up on stage, and now you have to deal with Mr. Too Good For This World and his relentless teasing. His eyes, lit up by an amusement that was also evident in his smirk, stayed glued on your body, raking up and down at it for a second too long. Not that you didn’t like it.

“Stare much?”, you bark at him in hopes of snapping him out of his trance, and push through him to punch in the code of your favorite drink. But alas, he always had a comeback ready on the edge of his lips.

“You look ridiculous”, he states and you have to admit that your outfit, though fitting for the Halloween special of today’s music show, was way different than anything else he had ever seen you in. Reincarnated as Dorothy Gale for the night, your stylists had chosen a short, light blue checkered dress, with red stilettos that gave a sexy twist to the character’s ruby slippers. Hair neatly braided in two pigtails, decorated by ribbons and topped off by glittery pink makeup. The image of innocence. Jaehyun had to laugh.

“Says the man dressed up as Woody”

It was unfair, you admitted, how good he looked in that stupid outfit. His hair was gelled back, a few strands framing his handsome face strategically. The yellow shirt fitted him like a glove, its bright colour lighting him up as well. And those jeans, tight in all the right places, just melted over the muscles of his thighs. The ones that you’ve come undone on one too many times.

“So”, he lilts, giving you a once over before lowering both the volume and pitch of his voice, “want a ride?”

You scoff, sparing him an incredulous look, “on what horse, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply, only points with his eyes to his crotch that is undeniably sporting a visible tent, and you gasp when you see the outline of his dick twitching under your stare.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun”, you mutter with a disgusted look on your face before picking up the almost forgotten beverage that the vending machine had barfed out for you. The boy mentioned, however, was unfazed.

“They don’t call me Woody for nothing”

Almost choking at the drink that was supposed to calm you down, you catch his eyes rolling at you through your third cough. Well, that ruins one of your favourite childhood movies. “Don’t pretend to be a prude. Now are we going to fuck before you get on stage of not?”

You can clearly remember the first time you met Jung Jaehyun alone. You always spotted him somewhere in the SM buildings, joking around with his future bandmates, barely ever without company. As a fellow vocal trainee, he introduced himself to you as Yoonoh, filling up the awkward silence while your vocal teacher prepared the music sheets for the both of you to rehearse.

You were thankful the two of you always got paired up together. Jaehyun was charming, easy to be around, funny. He was a model SM trainee with the otherworldly looks he possessed, almost impossible for anyone’s eyes not to follow him when he entered a room. Radiant porcelain skin, soft brown locks, and a dimpled smile that made your heart melt in seconds.

You can also clearly remember the first time you had the privilege of hearing him sing. Jaehyun had a beautiful baritone voice, one that contradicted his flower boy image but matched his manly personality perfectly. The four walls of the small practice room resonated with his sound, that was stable and smooth like honey. The lessons were challenging but Jaehyun made them bearable through spending time with him. Maybe it was your shared struggles, or how you were always tired and vulnerable when you saw him. Maybe it was those damned dimples, but your heart always beat faster when you were around him.

“Sometimes I get discouraged”, he confides in you in that same room, hours later, early into the morning now. The vocal lesson stretched on longer than expected, leaving you two sitting on the floor, sharing a cup of lemon-honey tea to soothe your vocal chords. You let your head rest to the leather couch behind you as you stare into his handsome features one by one. What time was it? Shouldn’t you be back at your dorms by now? It didn’t matter, this was one of those moments when time seems to stop and life seems unreal. When the only thing that you care about is the person standing next to you, and whatever it is they have to tell you.

“I fear that I will never get to debut. There’s handsome guys all over the company. I just don’t know if my skills are enough.”

You thought he was crazy for thinking that way, wanted to scream at him that he’s just perfect and more than enough for the company, or for anything in this world for that matter. But Jaehyun was reserved, the type to always mask his true feelings behind a smile and you were more than glad that he finally opened up to you, that he saw you as someone trustworthy. You didn’t want to dismiss his feelings, so you just pet his hair while you listened to his concerns.

As you mindlessly gaze at the rainy weather outside, a couple of droplets following their own path down the froggy window remind you that time does run by. Even if every day seemed the same, following the same routine, going to the same classes over and over again.

Jaehyun had this sad look that contorted his pretty face and you hated it, reaching up to massage away the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You don’t know which godly creature made the hourglass of time freeze this moment, nor did you know why Jaehyun leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for keeping your ears and heart open for him, for listening to him when he needed it most.

It felt so lovely while it lasted, two young people leaning on each other during an uncertainty that anchored them far away from their emotional shoreline. But life as a trainee isn’t a fairytale and falling in love can have serious ramifications. So you promise to each other that this will be a one time thing, and then you never speak of this night ever again.

Unsurprisingly enough, Jaehyun got to successfully debut, yet you didn’t have the same luck. The company had plans of focusing on their new boy group, thus postponing your debut for an uncertain amount of time. It was hard for you to decide to switch labels, to throw away the years of hope and dedication you had pinned on this company but the faith you placed on yourself was stronger.

It’s years later when you finally get to promote as a solo artist in a different company, and you are happy to say that the decision you made all those years ago was the right one. The exposure you got wasn’t the same as being in a Big 3 company, however leaving SM entertainment has its pros. Flexible schedule, less scrutiny, great creative freedom over your work.

This wasn’t the first time you have come across your old trainee buddy. Jaehyun had multiple comebacks in a year, so it was only natural that his group’s and your promotions would sometimes overlap. You were only a rookie, and NCT turned out to become pretty popular, so of course the wins were always tied to their names.

The first time you walked past him in the hallways, dark makeup and professional styling making you both almost unrecognizable, you expected a wave, small talk, maybe some reminiscing of the old times. Instead, you got a cold stare or at best, an arrogant smirk coupled with a “Do better next time”. It was shocking to you how much Yoonoh, the boy with the shy smile and awkward social skills, would turn into such a stranger.

How you always ended up sneaking out with him to have a quickie in one of the ready rooms, was beyond you. He rushed you inside before checking both sides of the hallway, cautious to hide from any curious eyes. The coast was clear and Jaehyun doesn’t like to waste time, so he pins you against the door he just closed behind him, face dipped in your neck. You can feel his fingers dancing on the skin of your thighs, eager to explore what is hidden under your frilly skirt, and their delicacy in contrast to his feverish kisses sends a shiver down your spine.

One pretty whine from your lips, then two, three and you can feel Jaehyun smile deviously against your neck. The softness is too enticing for him to resist, so he nips at it skillfully, trying to get a reaction out of you. He recognizes that you have plenty of talent as a singer, yet the symphonies you sing out for him in those little sessions seem to be his favorite.

“Jaehyun, cut it out. I’m going on stage in like, 20 minutes”

“Turn me on then”

Wasn’t he the one that basically flashed you in the middle of the cafeteria for just existing? Isn’t it his hard on that digs against your lower stomach? The demand made you mad, and you wanted nothing more than to entice him with a nice blowjob, only to take a big, strong bite off that cock of his. But see, you had a full face of makeup on and your career is way more important than a fuckboy, so you’ll have to get creative.

Flipping him around so that he’s the one trapped between you and the door, you start to suck on his collarbones , then nibble at the tender flesh. He seems distracted enough by it so that you open the button of his jeans and fully remove his belt from their loops with no objections. Palming him over his boxers to keep him entranced, you manage to bring his wrists together, wrapping the leather around them, then lastly fastening them in place.

His eyes widen in shock when he realizes that he’s too late, wiggling his hands in a futile attempt to free himself. Your laugh is sadistic, making the hairs on his arms stand on edge and you gloat in the effect you have on him.

Giving your palm a good lick, you form a ring with your fingers, wrapping them around the base of his member. He hisses and drops his head back, thudding loudly against the wall. His cock enlarges and reddens as you move your hand up and down, changing the pressure according to his reactions. Jaehyun isn’t one to express himself freely but there is not much he can do to stop the low moans leaving his lips. Not when you rub circles over his tip with the soft skin of your palm.

He looks so fucking good, all squirmy and desperate and trying to hold himself from saying ‘please’. You almost want to keep going, squeeze him more until he whines and begs to cum, and admire the white beads dripping from his slit and covering your hand. Almost.

You halt your movements with a last strong stroke, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him. Jaehyun tentatively opens one eye to see why you have stopped, only to come across that bratty smile that he loves as much as he hates.

“You should have dressed up as a siren. Seducing people before they realize you are a man eating bitch”

“If you want someone to jerk you off you can go ask one of your little fangirls. I want to get fucked.”

“Let me go then. And you’ll wish you never did”

You scoff at his cockiness, nonchalantly freeing him from his constraints, and the way he immediately has a hold of your jaw reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. His eyes have a crazy look in them, moving frantically over every part of your body like he can’t decide what to grab onto first. He decides on your hips, bending you over a table full of snacks and makeup tools and flyers of today’s schedule.

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”, he asks you with a peremptory voice that signifies you’d better shut up.

You hear shuffling behind you and assume it’s him slipping on a condom, so you make yourself more comfortable on the wooden surface. A hard slap on your ass jolts you alert.

“I asked you a fucking question”, Jaehyun presses brusquely and flips your skirt fully over your ass, pulling your panties down until they’re bunched up right over your knees.

“It’s fun”, you moan out, breathless both from the pleasure and the stinging feeling on your right cheek, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Was the room occupied by one of the artists that have already been on stage? Or will they barge in at any moment to find you bent over and pussy dripping for Jaehyun to finally dive inside you? He chuckled at the sight of you, eyes feasting off your naked body, your ass up just the way he likes it. Not so innocent anymore, huh?

He doesn’t reply to you, aligning himself against your slit and bottoming out in one go instead. Involuntarily, you let out a small screech, the sudden stretch catching you off guard.

“You better stay quiet, siren. Or maybe you would like it if people found us like this? Saw how good you take my cock whenever I ask”

You wanted to bite back at him, but the only sound you could make was a guttural moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and you fall forward to bite your fist and force yourself to shut up. It was effective, yet Jaehyun had other plans for you, pulling your pigtails towards him in a strong grip that has you against his chest in seconds.

“Nuh, uh, uh, siren”, he hums in your ear, his panting making his voice sound huskier and smokier than ever, “How about trying to stay quiet by using your willpower alone? That way it’s more- how did you call it? Fun.”

He slows down his pace momentarily, as if he’s giving you time to answer him. But the moment you open your mouth to talk back at him, he thrusts particularly hard inside you, forcing a whimper out of your lips.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun”

“As you wish”

Jaehyun was conceited and cocky and a dick, but he was also a good fuck. He kept at it with what seemed like all the energy in the world, fucking you against that table until you came all over him, and your legs gave out. It ended how it always did, with him moaning how fucking sexy you look and how much he hates you, and you swallowing your pride as you swallow his cum. You’d tell each other to fuck off and never bother the other again, until you meet up at the next comeback, to do this shit all over again.

And that’s how things would stay if it wasn’t for that goddamn phone call from your manager.

“...so we thought what better way to promote your new song by recording a duet with NCT’s Jaehyun?”

No, no, no this can’t be happening. No way. Anyone but him.

“Are you sure this is the only way we can promote me? Can’t I just go to variety programs like every other idol out there?”

“y/n, duets by different group members are one of the most efficient methods of promoting there is! And with NCT’s latest song topping the charts this will be a great opportunity for you. Taemin and Sunmi did it. Suzy and Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Punch-“

“Alright, okay, I get it”

“Besides, since you used to be an SM trainee they specifically asked for you. The directors made some pretty big compliments on your work”

Isn’t it a little too late now? Not like they didn’t have the chance to debut you, right? That being said, there isn’t much to oppose to decline SM’s offer; your manager is right and you know it. Saying no to Lee Sooman and giving up a popularity push like that is basically career suicide. Nor could you let your manager know about your and Jaehyun’s little adventures, minutes before you have to go on stage.

“Just send me the schedule. I don’t have to record with him, right?”

“Oh no, they’ll record his part first and then they’ll send it to us. But there will be a music video of course”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

There was this little monster of worriedness that was screaming inside your head, refusing to shut up. This collaboration isn’t going to be easy, but you didn’t want to let Jaehyun’s pettiness get in the way of your career. Fumbling with your phone in your hands, you kept removing and reinserting its case compulsively, over and over again, until you mustered the courage to take matters into your own hands.You knew his number was buried somewhere in your contacts.

you [16:35]: hey it’s me, y/n

Jung Yoonoh [16:50]: y/n who??

you [16:55]: y/n y/l/n? the girl whose guts you were inside in last week? we have a song coming up 😒

Jung Yoonoh [16:57]: oh y/n right

Jung Yoonoh [16:58]: thought you’d have deleted my number

Well you sure have deleted mine, you murmur with your blood boiling, regretting reaching out to him in the first place.

you [16:59]: i always hoard peoples contacts

you [17:00]: old habits die hard i guess

Jung Yoonoh [17:00]: like the habit of me being inside your guts?

You gasp out after reading his last message, hands awkwardly juggling your phone until you’ve forced yourself to calm down. After waiting for a while, until your face has reached its previous temperature, you feel focused again, and type out your original intentions for this conversation.

you [17:05]: this isn’t what i texted you about.

you [17:07]: we have this project coming up and while I know we aren’t exactly on the best terms, this comeback is very important for me

you [17:08]: and i don’t want to fuck it up

Jung Yoonoh [17:10]: kitty cat, relax. maybe this is a brand new word for you but i know what professionalism is

you [17:10]: don’t you ever and i mean ever call me that again

you [17:11]: glad to see we are on the same page

You didn’t expect a message back, nor did you get one. All you could do from now on, was pray that the promotions would go smoothly and Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything stupid that would jeopardize your collaboration.

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

And the day you dreaded finally came. The first day of filming for the music video.

You had already finished recording the song, a bittersweet balad about two lovers who lost their way, only for their paths to cross again. When you listened to the demo for the first time, it only took three notes from Jaehyun’s pre-recorded verse to spread goosebumps on your skin. His voice was deeper and even more developed than you remember. Long forgotten memories, shoved deep inside your brain so as not to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, came flooding up again. But things have changed since then.

The sky was crying rain and lightning, fitting to the storm inside your head. Normally you'd be excited to film a music video, bubbling with energy and unable to contain a smile. Today, all you could do was let your teeth abuse the cuticles of your left thumb, until little drops of blood ruined the fresh manicure you got for the shoot.

Following your manager inside the studio, you take a quick glance at all the props the creative directors have prepared. They were very intricate, filled with all different types of flowers everywhere. Some of the fake rooms looked like classrooms, two others were decorated like teenage bedrooms. It was a lot more than you have anticipated.

“The song will be part of a drama OST, that’s why the budget is higher than usual”, your manager tells you as if he was reading your mind.

He leads you to the changing room, where you try on different outfits your stylist has chosen for you, while simultaneously being briefed on the concept of the music video. It’s kinda cheesy and cute, with you and Jaehyun posing as high-school students falling in love. Certain scenes of the drama, whose plot matches the music video’s, will intercept in between.

You’re seated on the makeup chair, sunk in the uneasiness caused by your co-star. Jaehyun had arrived a few minutes after you, his bare face more handsome than you’ve ever looked in your most glamorous state and you can’t help but stare at him. He is all polite smiles and bows to the staff, and even gives you a formal greeting.

You’re not sure why you just can’t bring yourself to stop your legs from shaking as the makeup artist patiently tries to apply a rosy blush on your cheekbones. It’s like you’re scared that everyone will see right through the both of you, somehow enter your brain and find out that you’re replaying your last encounter with Jaehyun in the music show’s waiting room in your head. As you try to read through his expression, to see if he’s nearly as nervous as you are, you defeatedly can’t decode what’s going on inside his head. Not like you ever could.

You glance at both you and Jaehyun through the mirror, admiring the youthful makeup. Blushy cheeks and innocent eyes of two teenagers in love, masking the raw lust between two nemesi. It couldn’t stray any further from the truth.

A staff member leads both you and Jaehyun (who is refusing to spare even one look your way) back to the main set. The director is passionately explaining what he wants to see from you in your first scene, but you can barely focus with Jaehyun’s eyes burning holes through your school girl outfit. You block him out and walk inside the ‘classroom’, spotting the cameras and sitting on your designated seat, while you wait for your signal to start.

Of course, you had acted before. Yes, you had expected for the director to ask you for some more intimate moments with your co-star. But when Jaehyun passed you a “love note” from the desk in front of you, looking all blushy and shy and with his dimples showing, you felt that the role of crushing schoolgirl became a little too easy for you to act out.

And maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same way too. He looked pretty flustered when he saw you dancing across class, shifting restlessly in his seat when you bent forward to tie your shoelaces. Whether you did it on purpose or not, was a question your ego didn’t allow you to answer truthfully.

Most of the individual shots would be handled at a different shoot, so all you had to do was get over this one day with him. That’s what you repeated yourself over and over again. And you did pretty well, smiling charmingly at the camera, with the director praising you for your “innocent look”. You didn’t miss the scoff slipping from Jaehyun’s lips but you were good at ignoring it, focusing on getting through the different scenes in one-shot.

You were currently leaning your body against the wall, playing with your hair while Jaehyun glances down at you, like a boy that is ready to confess to his first love.

“y/n, I need you to give me something more shy, more bashful”, the director yells eagerly, but you can barely hear him, too focused on regulating your breathing. The look your co-star is giving you right now might seem loving and pure to the staff, but you know all too well the motives hidden behind his facade. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence he purposefully keeps to make you squirm, right before he whispers the most sinful propositions in your ears.

Reading him like an open book, you stand still as he leans closer, just enough so that no one besides you get to hear his words.

“Come on y/n, can’t you act bashful? Or is it impossible for you to get embarrassed after getting fucked against the window of a TV station’s building?”

Clearing your throat, you’re suddenly hyper aware of every single sound and movement in the room. Suffocating, even in the light clothes you were wearing, and desperately trying to mute out his words that bring you back to the day he was repenting.

“When you were pressed up against that glass, moaning my name, all exposed for anyone that simply looked up to see, you weren’t too shy, were you?”

You raise your palm to wipe a bead of sweat that has collected on your temple, and breathe deeply through your nose, as if a good pump of oxygen would cool off the sudden heat between your legs.

“Shut up Jaehyun”, you simply hiss through your front teeth, but he isn’t done yet.

“You know I can’t hold myself when I see you in skirts. So pretty. And you love to tease me in them too, I’ve noticed. Flashing me again and again until you get to suckle on my dick”

You were sure his voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the thought of anyone accidentally prying into your conversation had your whole body raising in temperature. The heat didn’t take long to reach your cheeks and you couldn’t remember the last time your legs felt like jelly, as they do now.

“Perfect y/n, that’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

You blinked back at Jaehyun a couple times, your mind trying to process that the director is cheering you on instead of scolding you to focus. The trembling hands, the fast-paced heartbeat, your big doe eyes. Though involuntarily, you had nailed the scene.

“You’re welcome”, Jaehyun mouths at you just as the staff announces a break. He scurries off to his dressing room without a word, as if he hadn’t just spewed his dirtiest of thoughts on set. It was almost as if he was daring you to follow him, but it’s not like he had left you a choice. You were fuming.

“Jaehyun”, you called out to him strictly but he didn’t acknowledge you, only walked further inside the small room with his name written neatly on the door. He was removing some of the heavier jewellery, rubbing the red lines they had left on his neck and wrist, momentarily catching your eyes on the mirror's reflection. They were misty, unreadable, and with how unpredictable you knew he could be, you decided to close the door behind you.

“Closing the door?”, he muses and in just a few long strides he has managed to trap you between his body and the wooden surface. It is reminiscent of your last meeting at the music show, and the memory of you tying him up doesn’t help with the organizing of your thoughts. “What are you planning on doing to me in here?”

You point one finger against his chest, not enough to create any real distance between you, but it comforts you nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that out there? What happened to professionalism?”

“Relax, kitty cat. I was just helping you act better”. His eyes stayed glued on your hips, once again making you all wound up and jumpy under his stare, “And it worked. You should be thanking me”

“I. Told. You.”, you started, tapping your finger on his sternum to emphasize each word, “Never call me that again. Today’s already hard as it is, why do you have to make it harder?”

He takes one more step towards you, his chest now touching yours and your hand that separated you lands involuntarily on his right peck. As if his presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh, and for a moment you worry he can feel how wet you really are under your skirt. His voice is a low, a deep rumble.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“You are unbelievable”, you scowl at him and free yourself from his trap. You turn to the big mirror to avoid looking at him anymore, and you come to the embarrassing realization of how fucked out you look right now. You had to get out of there as soon as possible, before you do anything stupid and lose any trace of self control left in you. But not before you gave Jaehyun an earful.

“What I meant was that I am out there, being paid to be all lovey-dovey with you. This is not something easy for me you know. It’s basically prostitution.”

You catch Jaehyun’s eyes in his reflection, and for a fleeting moment they turn a colour that you hadn’t seen them in for a long time. Hurt? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone in a second, replaced by that smile that made him both irresistibly smackable and fuckable at the same time.

“Did it cross your tiny brain that maybe someone could hear you? Staff leaks information all the time! If they found out we were fucking…”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Are. Will be. Whatever.” You sigh, defeated, hiding your eyes with your palms as you face him once again. “Like I said, this is important to me. So no more dirty talk on set. Okay?”

Jaehyun avoided your glance, from embarrassment or uninterest maybe. “Okay”

You continue to sit there silently, but your head is so occupied with a million thoughts that you don’t notice. How you will get through the rest of the shooting, whether your manager is looking for you or not, the coldness of the glass Jaehyun had pressed you against that day. The only thing that snapped you out of it, was him suddenly taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, you ask panicking, but you can’t dismiss the pool of excitement in your belly.

“We have a wardrobe change after the break, remember? And since you refuse to leave my changing room..”

You clear your throat, trying your hardest to rip your eyes away from his abdomen, that you’ve so keenly marked with love bites before. His naked skin must have monopolized your attention way more than you realized, as you can’t remember when he slithered his way closer to you, towering over your height.

“Stare much?”, he almost growls, arousal dripping from his voice.

Every fiber of your being wanted to lurch forward, glide your fingers through his hair and start nibbling at those pretty lips of his. The sexual tension, amplified by the argument you just had, was filling the room like a thick liquid would fill a cup. One more drop, one more second of his staring and it would overflow. It felt so real, that you could feel that drop landing on your forehead. Then another one on your cheek, and that’s when you realized that what you felt was real.

“What the-?”, Jaehyun mumbles as he stares up at the ceiling, a big wet spot staining it and allowing the water drops to slowly wet his styled locks. As you start to put two and two together, someone knocks loudly on the door, making you both jump one feet away from the other.

“Get undressed”, a high-pitched male voice that you recognize as Jaehyun’s manager calls through the door, “the rain is ruining the set. It’s a wrap for today”

———————————————————————

A soft touch on your lower back, an even softer breath making your ears tingle. A tentative kiss on your neck that’s full of purpose and makes you shiver.

And then another touch, this time more south on your body. Fingertips grazing over your sensitive clit. Easily moving through your wetness and finally dipping inside of you. That baritone voice.

“This pussy is mine, isn’t it, kitty cat?”

You look up to meet the face of the familiar voice, only to meet Jaehyun’s baby brown eyes. The pleasure was enough to make you ignore the despised nickname, flowing intensely through your body. You let out a desperate moan, gripping his arms to keep your balance. His fingers are now dragging through your walls and you clench around them instinctively, confused but enamored by his touch. You are falling apart.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing?”

“I want to make love to you”

“Love? But you hate me”

He plants another kiss on the slope of your neck, his hands picking up in pace and making you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Love. Hate. Is there really any difference when I’m here, ready to please you? Willing to make you feel things you have never felt before?”

“You already do”, you admit, only seconds away from your orgasm. The bliss is so close you can almost taste it, but for now you choose to taste his lips. They are so soft and warm that you realize you haven’t kissed Jaehyun since that night at the practice room. How you miss him. Not the group visual, not the idol, not even Jaehyun. Yoonoh.

“Yoonoh”, you moan out against his lips as the pleasure overtakes you, a low buzz humming in your ears, “mmm yes, Yoonoh”

“Who the fuck is Yoonoh?”

You finally wake up, your manager shaking you awake being the first thing you see. The sun’s morning rays are peeking through your blinds, warming your skin in lines. Your phone’s ignored alarm clock is still buzzing on top of your nightstand.

“No one. I’m awake, thanks”

Fuck. That makes it what? The fourth night in a row you dreamt about him?

“Get, up. Quickly. We’re late”

You groaned at the banging of your head that was caused by you getting up so fast. It was early into the morning, as you had to get ready for the mv’s second shooting day. The heavy rainfall wouldn’t allow for the filming to continue for another week, yet aided your growing anxiety of having to encounter Yoon- Jaehyun again.

You felt a little stupid, like a kid that goes to middle school for the first time, anxious but full of butterflies in your stomach in the thought of seeing him again. You weren’t sure who the anger, that came with the inability to control the fresh feelings bubbling from your dream, should be directed at. Your manager for booking you this job? Jaehyun for making it his goal to have you dripping wet on set? You, for letting it all affect you so much?

You decide on the former, giving your poor manager the cold shower for forcing you to deal with the problems you’ve caused yourself. Checking your phone, you realise that you are, indeed, late, and wonder how quick you’re going to have to make your morning shower.

“Is Jaehyun and his team there already?”, you ask your manager as nonchalantly as you could, feigning mildly interested in his answer.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? The other team asked for the shootings to continue separately”. You felt your stomach drop all the way down to your condo’s basement. And the icing on the cake: “Jung Jaehyun’s request”

Maybe your manager wasn’t as clueless to your electricity, or maybe it was your sudden impulse to pluck every loose thread of the pyjama top you were wearing that made him sense the discomfort following what he’d just said. He plops next to you on your bed, boards creaking in the silent room and you feel his rough hands patting you on the back.

“I’m sure he had an overlap in schedules and needed a break, nothing to do with you”

But you knew better, and you knew your palms wouldn’t stop itching unless you picked up your fucking phone and sent him a message.

you [06:30]: i heard you can’t make it to set today. everything ok?

You wish you never did. The radio silence from his number was way worse than any insult, any form of teasing he could give you on set. You even tried calling him, desperate for an answer, a closure even. Maybe he was busy. Maybe the shooting took longer than expected. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you; one of his managers uploaded his latest story on his instagram, not him. Maybe at the end of the week he would get back to you.

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

Going to his dorm unannounced was not a good idea. Waiting for someone to open the door for you, you hope his members will recognise you from your trainee days, or those rare nights Jaehyun sneaked you in when you were both lonely and in need of a… well, whatever you two were.

You’re starting to worry that whoever saw you from the peephole thought you were a sasaeng and called security, when Mark opens the door. His eyes are wide open behind his glasses, clearly not expecting you and immediately yelling for his ‘Jaehyun hyung’.

Soon, the called male arrives at the apartment’s entrance, annoyed for being interrupted from whatever it was he was doing. “What is it, me and Jungwoo are watching the season fina-“

As if Mark suddenly turned invisible, Jaehyun walks right past him, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to his room without another word.

Jungwoo, engrossed with the aforementioned show’s season finale on his computer screen, tries to cover up his naked torso in panic when he notices you.

“Get out.”, Jaehyun orders him, and the younger man knows that his tone is not one to be argued with. It triggers the cold sweat that makes your clothes stick closer to your skin and forces your heartbeat to quicken, pumping blood all over your body. The door closes, leaving you both alone with only the sound of Jungwoo’s laptop still playing in the background. A lighthearted scene that is too oxymoronic against the tension that is just palpable at this point. What the hell were you thinking coming here?

“What the hell were you thinking coming here?”, Jaehyun speaks your thoughts out loud, and you wince at how empty your head is with excuses.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What?”, he asks dumbly, hoping you would avoid asking again.

“Was it that hard to text me back? Am I such a waste of your time?”

Jaehyun seems angry at your confrontation, his bad mood escalating with every word that is leaving your mouth. He still avoids to look at you, toying with some plushies and decorations next to his bedpost. You realize you never had time to really notice them, barely recognizing them. You always entered the room blindly, pressed up against Jaehyun’s body and with his lips all over your neck, then left as soon as the sex was over. His apathy was infuriating.

One by one, you start to remove all of your outerwear, dropping your clothes on the floor until you’re left in only your bra and jeans. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, then at the pile of clothes on the floor, unable to make out the reasoning behind your impromptu stripping.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. Seems to be the only time you can actually pay attention to me.”

You reach for the buttons of your jeans, only able to unzip it halfway before Jaehyun has you pinned against the wall behind you, his fingers cool and pressing lightly against your neck.

“I-I fucking hate you!”, he cries, punching the surface to release some of the steam, and lets go of the hold on your neck almost completely. How tempted he is, to just fuck your right against that wall, pour out his anger by pouring out his cum inside you, then ignore each other like you always do.

It’s the easy thing to do, keeping the toxic circle going. All barking and fucking and no real problem gets resolved in the end. He wouldn’t even call a cab for you, preferring to be hated for something he wasn’t than to be rejected for showing the real him. You would still have no idea about his feelings towards you, going around saying how awful he was while asking for a round two. But Jaehyun was tired.

“Can’t you tell that I am trying to distance myself from you?”, he sighs and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so emotionally exhausted.

“Why do you dislike me so much? We used to be friends and then one day you-“

“Friends? Just friends?”, he interrupts you with a chuckle and a sarcastic puff through his nose, and you shake your head.

“If you also think that what we had was more special than a common friendship then why act like you don’t know me?”

“You were the one who wanted to ‘forget about anything happening and never telling a soul about it’, remember?”

“I thought we came to a mutual agreement! I was just trying to save our careers and it worked Jaehyun, you got to debut and I-“

“And you just threw away everything we had like it was the easiest thing to do! Do you ever want to know how I feel, y/n? First you want nothing to do with me, left the company without even saying goodbye. Then I try to forget about you, become an asshole to keep you out of my life and suddenly you want to jump my bones. One day you just play blind to everything, asking for professionalism and now I’m the one ignoring you? What the fuck do you want? A fuck buddy? A professional? A friend?”

“I want you, Yoonoh. Fuck, I just want you”

You’re not sure which one of you initiates the kiss. His lips are as plump and kissed as hard as you recalled, a couple of tears staining your cheeks that you didn’t realize you were holding back. It felt so right, the way his head pushed and pulled away from yours, always inviting you back to him. One hand was situated over the dimples of your waist, the other lost between your hair, untangling it gently. You decided to lay yours over his heart, feeling its tempo and calming yourself down.

You kiss for what seems like an eternity, so drunk in bliss that you can’t remember how you made it through life without Jaehyun’s taste all over your tongue. When he pulls away from your lips, you almost whine, but his fingertips dabbing at the soft skin of your cheeks feel just as comforting.

“I don’t want us to be like this anymore”, you whisper to him and he nods encouragingly, holding you even closer. “I’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years ago, I just thought ‘What would a brand new idol want to do with a failed trainee like me’-“

Jaehyun brings your fingers to his lips, kissing all your knuckles one by one and you think you’re gonna burst at the seams. “You weren’t a failure, you were the best thing to happen to me back then”. His voice is so sincere that you don’t dare question the veracity of what he’s saying and you let him continue. “When I saw you again I was so bitter, I decided to turn off my feelings. I think I get too comfortable in that role. I put it on for me, my members, my fans even”, he stops then, laughing sadly, “it’s how I finally got you”

It was your turn to open up his eyes to the truth, holding his face between your hands and admiring its beauty.

“That’s not true. I kept staying because I knew what was hidden behind all that armor. I guess, the sex was the only way to get closer to you”

“Not because I’m good?”, he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and you can feel his dimples forming under your fingers.

“Eh, you’re pretty good too”

He starts pecking your neck, his smile obvious in his kisses and you squeal when he lifts you to his bed. Bouncing on the hard mattress, you let him lay his body weight over yours as he gives you a million traces of his love.

“So, I’m guessing this means we start over?”, he asks reluctantly as he emerges from your half naked body and you hold back from cooing at him.

“I thought you loved to hate me?”

“I think I hate it, but I love you”

#neosmutcollective #Jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #jaehyun fluff #nct

2K notes · View notes

starvels · 2 years

Note

1. I bet Steve gives AMAZING back massages, his knowledge of physiology, self muscle control, and artist hand sensitivity makes for a world class masseuse. and

2. Tony has the misfortune of both being jerked around at high speed on his muscles/joints AND you know he hunches over his work and typing like a gremlin. Ergonomics? Straight backed posture? Sitting in a chair properly? Taking breaks to stretch? idk her. (But you know he insists on his employees both having to most ergonomic equipment and are encouraged to stretch and take walks. HE sits cross legged on his fancy office chair desk AFTER he got thrown into a wall the day before)

So 3. Steve, who has given other people on the team a back rub when asked, is kinda horrified and motived once he feels the bag of rocks and sticks that is Tony’s back and shoulders after a friendly shoulder clap. They are going to FIX this meet him in the medical bay in 2 hours

1. absolutely agree!! i think there should be a ton more content about steve being attuned to temperature/texture/pressure differences and combining that with a very hard won knowledge of the human body and also violence and first aid!! there's a ton of material for it and i think casual use of superhero powers is always gonna compel me a bit more than big intergalactic uses.

2. lol to tony giving his employees giant health care spending accounts but not taking advantage of it on his own, yeahhh. we love that for stark employees tho!

for non-mcu tony, i do think he likes a comfy chair tbh! he obvs respects good product design a lot, and has a very intense amount of knowledge about his own biology and body. probably enough to have neck pillows, heating pads, health and safety protocols etc. and we do have canonical evidence of him using first aid - bandages, medication, a wheelchair, etc. so i think the idea of care isn't hard so much as it is accepting care (from someone, instead of working, etc). if that makes sense haha.

for fucking sure though, tony should have a lot more motion and collision injuries! lots of longterm trauma and nerve damage and spinal issues. boy should perpetually be walking around with WAD. ults in a lot of ways makes much more scientific sense - put someone in a tin suit and put a layer of gooey liquid to protect their sensitive organs from damage from being yunno hit perpetually against METAL. but alas, suspension of disbelief for comics. it's fine. but i would like to see it explored more >:) maybe i will do that.

3. i DO agree that steve should be horrified at the amount of tension tony carries in his shoulders. a fun personal annecdote is that my partner carries all tension in the shoulders as well and i am the masseuse in our relationship and sometimes i will put my hands on partner's shoulders and genuinely encounter a metal impenetrable surface instead of regular shoulder blades kgjnsbkj. so! i think there's a whole lot of jokes here about tony in the chest plate and being made of metal, etc.

3b. i find it equally compelling if tony is determined to reverse the favor and gets steve on a flat surface only to discover that steve heals so fucking fast sometimes he just gets KNOTS of scar tissue under his skin and he's super fucking casual about it, "oh it goes away in a week or two," and tony's like, what the fu cK.

superhero bodies! weird! wild! great :''')))

#i have a lot of thoughts abt both of them being injured continuously for 20 years of their lives and its called DISABILITY kdnkbjkgfdj #our talk #stevetony asks #stevetony #character talk #616 #disability #superhero realism

23 notes · View notes

izusun · 3 years

Note

Alright so the LOV attack Mamadoriya because they want to get back at Izuku, so they attack on the day that she's visiting the Bakugous. Of course Izuku is contacted immediately and him and Katsuki get over there almost as fast as the police get there. Imagine the surprise when they find the LOV sprawled all over the floor and Inko and Mitsuki laughing about the good ol days

Turns out that back in the day, Inko and Mitsuki were a famous vigilante duo back in the day. Katsuki is on the floor having an existential crisis while Izuku's just glad his mom and Auntie are okay.

- Goblin anon

GOBLIN, IM CONVINCED THAT IK YOU IRL BECAUSE MY FRIEND AND I ALREADY MADE SM BRAINSTORMS ABOUT THIS

once again, i love love your au dumps <3

and since you set up the ground frame for the plot bunny, i’d like to dabble on inko and mitsuki’s past vigilantism.

inko:

inko’s quirk doesn’t have an official name but it’s basically attraction of small objects, as such we saw her quirk at work when she pulled izuku’s figurine from the floor. but without disclosure of how small she can attract, i’d love to think that she can attract even smaller materials. materials like atoms, compounds—matter.

or, even at a frightening scale, cells.

not that she’s purposefully pull at someone’s cell/s to reshape or disturb the flow of the body. also i’m not a science major and i don’t have much interest in science so idk how accurate this is BUT pushing past irl semantics, imagine:

inko’s quirk is more than a surface-level quirk; it can fix or ruin an object’s construction, often by remodelling its foundation. it used to fuck with villains (and heroes pursuing her alike) back in the day because no one knows how her quirk works, and so they don’t know how to fight her back. next thing they know is that the gun in their hands is falling apart, or their car is swivelling off the road.

outside of her quirk, i see inko mastering judo. idk much about martial arts but my friend (who studies them) basically described judo as a martial arts that uses the opponent's strength against the artist. it teaches ground work and prioritizes drilling techniques. in judo, striking hard is not a necessity. and it fits inko! because her quirk is very versatile, she doesn’t need much physical prowess to win, often utilizing techniques with her quirk.

she was dangerous so no wonder the heroes wanted to apprehend her because if she slips into the dark side, they’re in trouble.

of course she didn’t, but the heroes never caught her too. just one day, she retired and no one knew where she went. there were talks in the underground saying that she settled and had a kid, but how real are underground talks?

mitsuki:

mitsuki’s quirk is glycerin which basically gives her the ability to secrete glycerin from her skin. tbh we had a hard time brainstorming about mitsuki but alas we persevered because bamf mitsuki is something we all need.

because glycerin contains antimicrobial and antiviral properties (which approved it to treat burn and wound injuries), it usually helped mitsuki heal and treat her burns because she often found herself getting exploded at whenever she was out fighting villains.

and since she can’t fight with her quirk, best believed she’s heavily armed and trained with multiple martial arts. mitsuki has greater connections than inko (really because of her job which gives her more flexibility in meeting these people), and basically has a trusted small team where she can get her armoury.

my friend imagined mitsuki taking more than one martial arts (i.e. taekwondo and jiujutsu) because her tenacity relied on the punches she could give. as much as she is armed, she’s more in-tuned with her body, thus combat fighting with the mix of martial arts make her very dangerous.

the heroes thought she was quirkless so they were never able to create an accurate profile of her. it fucked with heroes a lot because they don’t know how to approach her. she was quiet, strong, quick, and efficient, thus the heroes sent to apprehend her always lost her trail.

she was very different from inko. wherein inko was feared but loved by the underground, mitsuki was a friend of the police and even daylight heroes. not that mitsuki ever really teamed up with hero agencies in times of dire, but there wasn’t the presence of uncertainty in terms of her moral stance that many had with inko.

which was why it was fitting that when mitsuki officially retired, she sent a telegram to the closest police station she knows and they never got to hear from her after.

present:

imagine seeing your mom and your boyfriend’s mom just battling it out against the most dangerous villains and winning?

izuku probably would’ve asked for tips, especially from mitsuki because mitsuki basically fought quirkless.

#goblin anon #ask #GOBLIN THIS IS SO GOOD THANK U SM #my brain did another dancey dance because of this #head empty. just bamf inko and mitsuki beating this shit out of LoV and other past villains #bakudeku is called wonderduo because their mom and mom-in-law were the baddest mfs out there #bnha #midoriya inko #bakugou mitsuki #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #mha #long post

96 notes · View notes

poppunkporco · 3 years

Text

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader fic)

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader)

contents: porco x fem reader, mentions of marcel galliard, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, fluff, pining, alternate universe - college/university, modern au, bisexuality, smoking, porco galliard-centric

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: When he walks her home that night, Porco realizes he might have feelings for his childhood best friend. He has no idea in hell how to deal with it but he tries.

word count: 5079

notes: i just thought it'd be interesting to try writing a modern au porco/reader fic in a more porco-centric POV. what i try to do here is explore how he deals with the soft sappy feelings of slowly realizing he's in love since he's pretty bad at emotions and even more so when it's not a [strong, violent type of feeling]

*fic loosely based on this song:

*this is also cross-posted on ao3

***

2:40 AM at an empty parking lot behind a 7-Eleven. The nearest lamp post flickers weakly with its dimming orange light as Porco sets down his third empty beer can on the concrete with a yawn.

“Hey,” he says, lightly shrugging the shoulder against which she leaned her head on. She doesn’t budge from beside him. He rubs the lethargy off his eyes.

They’ve been sitting on this parking block for almost three hours now-- since they left the gig hours ago at the pub just across the university. They’d just spent the past few hours ranting about midterms and how fucked up alienated labor is along with the absence of ethical consumption under capitalism-- and how everyone is forced to participate in it, talking about trips they’d like to make in and outside the city, their ideal lovers, and anxieties about the future. This was a thing they did now and then, usually on Fridays and Saturdays-- seeking a kind of cathartic escape from their hectic academic life in each other’s company. A friendly rendezvous they’d jokingly call dates every now and then.

He leans forward just enough to get a peek at her face, partly obscured by the mess of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

So she’s asleep.

His eyes dart towards their things lumped together beside her feet-- their backpacks sitting atop an A4-size sketchbook along with the last unopened beer can.

Porco idly clinks his finger against the top of the beer can he had just emptied as he breathes out a wistful sigh.

Somehow, she always reminded him of his long-gone brother. Not to say that she shared even a bit of Marcel's fairly easygoing yet charming demeanor. Because she was far from that. She was loud with a crude mouth-- more like Porco himself, really-- except that she at least was kinder, more pleasantly charismatic towards other people than himself. And in that way, yes, she did remind him of Marcel. But there were other things-- pastimes and memories that reminded him of his brother when she came to mind. They’d known each other even as kids. Back in middle school, Porco remembers how she’d visit their home on the weekends so the three of them could build a Lego city which Marcel himself had drafted on the back of one of his sketchbooks. Those two were always quite the artists even as kids-- Porco recalls fondly. His brother had been the one to introduce her to Porco during one of those weekends. He didn’t like it at first-- how Marcel would seem to pay more attention to her at times as they animatedly sketched parts of the city on paper in the middle of assembling the Lego blocks. He’d eventually learned to be tolerant of her presence at least as the weekends passed by and the city gradually came to life-- vast with skyscrapers, houses, trees, vehicles, and lamp posts. Porco distinctly remembers building a garden with her beside a house that resembled the Galliard residence. He had assembled the green pieces that resembled leaf blades onto the flat Lego board, while she topped them off with tiny colorful flower pieces. It was honestly quite fun and it became a thing he eventually looked forward to on the weekends with Marcel.

But all things come to an end and at times, at points where they feel like they’re not supposed to. Porco knows this well.

In Marcel’s old room, the city remains hidden away, unfinished.

It was on a rainy day when Marcel had met an accident on his way home with a schoolmate. Onlookers had witnessed him racing against the red light to push Reiner away from the path of an incoming vehicle.

Even if it was an accident, Porco despises Reiner after that. He'd decided to never talk to him after the incident but as fate would ridiculously have it, they’d meet again in high school-- as classmates, nonetheless, to his dismay.

It was after this same incident that Porco had grown closer to her-- the only other person who possibly knew Marcel almost nearly as he himself did. She knew about the city and she knew about his sketches, after all. In the first few days after his brother’s wake, they’d simply talk about Marcel as they walked home together after school and how they both missed him. Those walks home would eventually involve detours at the nearest Mcdonald’s where they’d get nuggets and buy a Happy Meal-- the ones that came in flimsy cardboard packaging printed with colorful cartoon mascots-- for the sake of getting the collectibles that came with them. It was a thing they never really grew out of. Even now, as college kids, whenever they’d find themselves eating out together at the nearest Mcdonald’s after their Philosophy classes scheduled on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they’d get themselves a Happy Meal, even if they sometimes earned puzzled looks from the cashier as they engaged in quick, petty quarrels as to which collectible they should get.

Soon, Porco feels her shuffle in her seat beside him, the weight of her head now off his shoulder. She rubs the sleep off her eyes with a yawn.

“...should go home,” she drawls, accidentally kicking one of the empty beer cans sprawled in front of them on the concrete. It lands right at the feet of a passer-by who in turn shoots her a cold glare before kicking the can back in her direction. "I-- hey, uh, sorry about that," she apologizes, louder than necessary. Said passer-by only clicks their tongue in annoyance as they raised a middle finger at her before walking away with a muffled swear under their breath.

She exchanges incredulous, befuddled looks with Porco for a few silent moments before eventually letting out a snort and bursting into a fit of stupidly drunken laughter with him.

“...is what I mean… fucking capitalism... makesnasshole out ofveryone,” she remarks, broken phrases drawn out in between chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I got it for the tenth time,” Porco says, laughing with a roll of his eyes. He stands up and stretches out a hand in front of her. “Now can we go home? Can’t exactly start a revolution when the alcohol’s fucked you up that bad,” he says with an impatient sigh.

“Yeah? How do you know? Did Karl Marx write that?” She languidly takes his hand.

“No, but-- fucking… well, I don’t know. Maybe? Indirectly? I mean, we did just give in to consumerism,” Porco says with a sharp click of his tongue as he pulls her up to stand.

“Well… yeah. I guess so.”

“Anyway.” Porco places a palm at the top of her head and urges her to face him. “You seem more out of it than me. I’m walking you home this time, alright?

”She shrugs languidly. “Sure, whatever,” she says, her words muffled as she falls face first into his chest.

“Give me the fucking keys,” he says coarsely after her third failed attempt at unlocking the door to her own flat. In the dim light of the hall, Porco tries to make out the shape of what he recognizes as the right one among the five keys dangling from her keychain. He sighs, frustrated as he finally unlocks the door.

“How the hell did you--?” Confused, she eyes the keys still dangling from the door. “Why wouldn’t it open when it was me?”

“For the love of--” Porco runs a palm down across his face with an exasperated sigh. “You were forcing the wrong key.”

“Oh.” She snorts trying to stifle a chuckle. Porco pulls the keys from the door and hands them to her along with the sketchbook he’d been carrying.

“Thanks.” She gives the door a light push before finally taking a step into the flat. And then a sudden stop. She pockets her keys and lets the sketchbook fall on the carpeted floor of the foyer. She tilts her head pensively for a few moments, staring blankly at the darkness of her room. Porco raises an eyebrow in confusion. She turns on her heel to face him again.

“What is it?” he asks.

She stands on the tips of her toes, eyeing Porco with what felt to him like newfound curiosity. She rests a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

Her other hand soon reaches up to cradle the side of his face. It comes as a surprise, but not the kind that made you flinch or visibly react in some way. This was simply… unexpected. Weird. And somehow new.

She’s looking at me. And she’s looking like she’s waiting.

And what is she waiting for, exactly? He feels a nervous lump in his throat, swallows it down. He has half the mind to lean his face closer as he, too, looks at her-- and he looks at her like he’s waiting.

Alas, whatever this is-- it ends where it feels like it’s not supposed to.

“‘Night, Porco,” she says with a feeble smile before falling back flatly on her feet.

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” he says, tentatively glancing at his side.She crouches down to lazily pick up the sketchbook before finally entering her flat again. Porco catches her giving him a tiny wave through the crack of the door moments before she completely pushes it closed. He bids her goodbye with a curt nod.

Once the door closes, he rolls up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time.

3:15 AM. Porco raises a palm to his cheek. The ghost of her touch lingers on his skin.

***

“Are you serious?” Porco scoffs. “Y/N, you’re not even watching the film.” He leans his head against his palm with his arm resting on the side of the couch.

“Sure I am,” she says, unpinning her hair before letting her head fall on his lap. As she types out a message on her phone, Porco manages to make out Pieck’s name at the top of the chat box.

“You keep checking your phone.”

“It’s fine. We’ve both seen this film before anyway. I told you-- I’m just rewatching it for my paper on Nietzsche.”

“So you dragged me into this for what?”

She gives a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know. Felt like it. Just wanted to bother you for a good film.” She finally sets aside her phone to look up at Porco with a shit-eating grin. He sighs and flicks a finger against her forehead. “Ow. What the fuck.”

“At least try to look like you’re actually watching,” Porco says, turning her head to face the TV screen.

"Fine, fine," she says with a grimace as she kneads the pain away on her forehead.

They’re now about an hour into Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. As lovers Joel and Clementine ran through the memories-- hand in hand mapping the history of their relationship-- the ups and downs-- scenes of the two playfully mocking the film at a drive-in theater, a stroll through the flea market leading into talks of having a child, lovemaking underneath the covers as Clementine told Joel about her insecurities rooting from childhood-- all these small intimacies that nonetheless revealed to each other their flawed, detestable selves along with reasons they probably shouldn’t be together, Porco realizes it.

He looks at her, notes the way the flicker of the TV screen daintily lit up her solemn face and how she’d break into a smile every now and then. She’d brush the back of her hand against his knee and point at the TV screen to tell him that this was among her favorite parts so he absolutely had to pay close attention. A bit funny considering she was the one who wasn’t paying much attention to the film during the first part, Porco thinks. At least she’s watching now, even as he can’t help but watch her instead.

As he absentmindedly brushes a hand against her hair, he wonders if they could be something more, wonders if they’d be anything like Joel and Clementine-- imperfect, but nonetheless worthwhile. They’d known each other since they were kids and he can definitely make a list of things he doesn’t like about her-- like the way she’s too loud and frisky and never seemed to take the right things seriously, how scatterbrained she was that she’d forget the schedule for a midterm exam and how her room always seemed to be in shambles, the way she was so stubborn she’d easily get upset at something as simple as choosing to eat at a fast food different from the one she insisted on, how she’d smoke in his dorm no matter how many times he’d told her that she could get him in trouble for it. But it's not like he's perfect either. She’d told him that he came on too headstrong at times and that’s why a lot of people felt intimidated by him-- a trait that had gotten him into fights and eventually, long afternoons of detention back in high school. She says she hates the way he thought himself too strong to cry in front of anyone and how he’d grown dismissive of opening up to her as they got older. Whenever they’d get into heated fights, she’d tell him that all you ever are is angry and how he was pretty shit at saying sorry like he meant it. And despite all of these, they had remained close friends over the years. They’d promised each other that they’d get better-- slowly, but surely-- even if that was something easier said than done. He could live with that. He would.

***

“Hey, uh--” Porco breathes out a puff of smoke as he hands her the cigarette. He gazes distantly at the parade of city lights before them-- from the headlamps of the vehicles passing below them on the bridge, the streetlights, and the buildings overhead. “--do you still like Pieck?”

She suddenly lets out a cough and a puff of smoke at that. She gapes at Porco incredulously.

“Pock, it’s been three years since we broke up. And that was high school.”

“Look, I know that, but--” he sighs. “I was just wondering.”

She laughs. “That’s not really what you wanted to ask, is it? There’s something else.” She raises an eyebrow at Porco. He rolls his eyes at that, irked at how easily she could read him. “So ask.” She passes him the cigarette and he takes a drag of it.

“Ok--” he says with a sigh. “--Have you liked any other girls after her?”

She raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“No, not really. Nothing serious, at least. I mean, I did have a crush on this girl who sat beside me in English class during freshman year. But... that was freshman year, you know? Nothing ever really came of it. And you know I would have told you if something actually did, anyway."

“I see.”

“There’s more you want to ask,” she says with a cheeky smile.

“Ok. Fine.” Another drag of the cigarette. “How about-- boys? Have you liked any guy at all since then?” The city lights blur against the filter of smoke. Porco refuses to meet her eyes even as he feels her gaze on him-- heavy with something he could not exactly put his finger on. He knows she’s not smiling anymore and from his periphery, he thinks he senses a swallow in her throat. She turns to the city overhead.

“Yes, actually.” She takes the cigarette from him, smiling fondly upon the light brush of their fingers. “I-- you know, even though I’ve known for a long time that I liked both guys and girls, I still find myself doubting that sometimes. When I’m attracted to a girl, I sometimes think that maybe I was just gay all along. And now that I find myself actually liking a boy again, a part of me entertains the thought that maybe me liking girls was just a phase and maybe I was straight all along. But... I just know it’s not like that. And yet, what people say still gets to me-- they’ve got a way of making you think that being bi isn’t a real thing. Even though it is. I know because... I’m real, right?”

“Yeah. You are. You’re… you’re here.” The corner of his lips turn up as he says it. “I get it. I mean, I think I’m the same.”

“Really?” She turns to gape at him.

“I suppose I’ve never told you this either because it’s so fucking embarrassing, but…” He sighs defeatedly, kneading his temples with unease. “...I made out with Reiner in high school.”

She regards him with a scandalized look.

“Dude, what the fuck. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I do, alright? It’s just that… teenage hormones and shit. I was stupid and he’s stupid. I-- I don’t know what I was thinking that time. But… I do wonder sometimes--” He scratches his head tentatively. “--what my brother was thinking rushing in to save him from that accident. Like… just what did he see in that meathead that was worth saving?”

“And did you find your answer to that when you were making out?”

Porco eyes her with a deathly glare.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, so you did,” she says with an impish grin.

Porco flicks a finger against her forehead.

“Ow-- hey! Stop that,” she says with a grimace. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Reiner’s hot.”

He clicks his tongue at the remark before hastily seizing the cigarette from her grasp to take another drag. "Not like he's the only guy I ever found ho-- I mean liked."

She laughs.

"We should head back," he says coldly.

"Sure.” She nods. “Though… is there anything else you wanted to ask?"

As the filter of smoke hangs between them, Porco wonders about the boy she likes.

He shakes his head. "No. It's nothing."

***

“It was like deja vu,” Porco says, sighing into his phone as he shifts to lie near the edge of his bed. “Except in this dream… before she said goodnight, we, uh--”

“You kissed?” Pieck suggests from the other line.

“Well… yeah.” He puts a palm to cover his face, feeling the flush on his cheeks as he says it.

“So you like her,” Pieck says, almost breaking into a chuckle.

“I, uh…”

“I get it. She’s charming and reminds you of Marcel.”

“That’s…”

“I’ll be honest with you.” She sighs and Porco senses a smile from her tone. “Remember when I said I broke up with her because uni was getting too busy? The truth is that… I feel like you two always seemed to get along better than I ever could with her-- and it probably has to do with Marcel. When I realized that, I’ll admit I did start to feel jealous. I thought back then that you two might eventually get together. After all, you two were both still in high school, while I was already away in uni. It left me distraught for months so I just... decided to break it off. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s been years and it’s not like I haven’t dated anyone else since then. And in hindsight, that just might have been for the best. I mean, you confiding in me about her right now-- I think-- is a testament to that. Because you realized it too, didn’t you?”

“Oh." He pauses. "I never thought that you-- Pieck, look, I--”

“Pock, if you feel guilty about it just because I used to date her, don’t. It’s not anyone’s fault. That… that she just loved you first. It’s circumstance. She met you and Marcel first before me.”

That she loved you first. As Porco echoes the words in his head, he becomes acutely aware of the beating in his chest and the warmth swarming his face. He buries his face in a pillow and screams into it.

“Hey, Pock? You ok there?” Pieck chuckles.

“How do I-- you think I should tell her?”

“Well, it’s the honest thing to do. And I genuinely think you don’t stand to lose much by doing so. Even if by the littlest chance of her not returning your feelings, I don’t think confessing would ruin your friendship. Might be a little awkward at first, but I don’t think she’ll end up hating or avoiding you at all.”

“You sure you’re not just sayi--”

“No, Pock. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends. I’m saying it because it’s what makes sense.”

“Ok, well… thanks,” he sighs. “And by the way… I’m sorry I called you this early. I know you’re probably busy especially since it’s your thesis year.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you told me. Frankly, I do find satisfaction in knowing my speculations are correct. And you guys… you two are more predictable than you think-- if I’m being honest,” Pieck laughs.

“Well, I suppose being predictable isn’t so bad… if you’re right.”

Once they bid each other goodbye on the phone, Porco remains sprawled across the bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He rests a palm on his cheek, internally cursing Marcel as he feels the warmth streaming his face once again.

***

“Fuck,” Porco swears under his breath as they both ran towards the car, their feet splashing against the puddled ground as the rain cascades. A looming thunder rolls across the night sky as they make it to the safety of the vehicle.

“So… still not convinced that trying to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday at midnight was a bad idea?” Porco says, trying to catch his breath as he sets down the paper bag on the space between their seats.

“Well, I’ll admit it kinda sucked that you had to have your car still parked in school. And in my defense, I didn't expect the drizzle to cascade so soon on the way back. But you know what? It’s fine. We got what we needed and that’s all that matters. I’ll stand by this being a good idea.” She laughs as she peels off her drenched jacket. “Oh, by the way, where can I put this?”

“Just put it in the backseat,” Porco says as he peeled off his own jacket.

“Got it. Here, give me yours too,” she says before turning to place both of their drenched jackets in the backseat.

“Thanks.” Porco switches on the car’s dome light and the windshield wipers. The car’s interior now warmly lit, he rummages inside the paper bag, then hands her a box of chicken nuggets along with a plastic fork. “You want the fries now or later?”

“Later’s good. Thanks.” Porco acknowledges her with a nod, then leans back on the car seat with a languished sigh.

The rain patters incessantly against the windows over the rhythm of the windshield wipers. The faint yellow glow lulls from the ceiling of his car. He recalls a rainy evening spent staring out the window as he nervously waited for Marcel to come home. A distant memory weighs heavy on his eyelids.

“Porco. Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah.” Porco shifts lightly in his seat, slightly startled. “I just… remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rain. It just reminded me of Marcel.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, he was…” She puts down her food and lightly wipes the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Back then, I considered him as something a little more than a best friend. I like that he liked my drawings and how he never made fun of them… even though he was ways better than me at it,” she recalls fondly.

He scoffs. “So… are you guilt-tripping me for something I said about your drawings when we were twelve?”

“You were an asshole, but you should be glad I’m past that.” She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “All I’m saying now is that Marcel was... really special to me.”

“What-- did you have a crush on Marcel or something?”

She snorts. “You could say... it was something like that. Yeah.”

Figures. He nonchalantly crosses his arms in front of his chest. The pattering rain fills in the lull in their conversation.

“I like your drawings too,” he finally says.

“That’s why I drag you along every time I go out to draw. You like watching me, right?” She teasingly raises an eyebrow as she says it.

“Well, sure.” He shrugs awkwardly in his seat.

“Tell me. What else do you like?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see…” he sighs, feigning annoyance with a roll of his eyes. “I like it when I’m in the middle of pulling an all-nighter at Tim Hortons… and you go on and disturb me just to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday midnight.”

“Yeah?” she chuckles. “What else?”

Porco turns to glance at her. As she meets him with a playful grin, his mind races with answers.

I like it when you steal my jacket and you leave me to freeze to death in the cold of the cafe’s AC. I like it when you go on a chaotic, semi-coherent drunken rant about how badly you want capitalism dismantled. I like it when you remember Marcel. I like your hair. I like how your hands unpin your hair before you rest your head on my lap.

He scoffs-- more in reaction to his own thoughts than at her teasing. Who knew he could be that embarrassingly sappy? “What are you… getting at?”

“Nevermind.” She shakes her head, still smiling. She laughs while timidly raising a palm to her cheek. “Can we share your fries now?”

***

“So I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” Porco says, settling himself on the dormitory steps faintly lit by the porch lights hanging on both sides of the entrance.

“Cool. So where do you want it?” She sits beside him while setting down her things-- a shoulder bag and a sketchbook on the concrete step.

“I was just thinking on my arm,” he says, pointing a finger at a spot on his skin.

“What do you want it to look like?”

“Not sure yet.”

“I could draw you one.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. I could do it right now.”

“Really?”

She takes the ballpoint pen out of the spring of her sketchbook and begins to doodle something on his arm. Covering her drawing with a cupped palm, she chuckles while mischievously peering up at him.

“I swear to god, if you’re drawing something embarrassing-- Oh, fuck you.” Porco laughs, managing to take a peek at the ink drawing of a cartoon porcupine with the hair on its head stylishly pushed back. Below the drawing, it writes 'porcopine.' He pulls his arm away from her grasp.

"What? You don't like it?" She grimaces.

"Porcopine? Really?"

“What? It's cute,” she says with an offended click of her tongue, reaching for his arm once again.

Below the word 'porcopine,' she then writes the phrase 'i <3 you.'

Porco furrows his brows upon reading the phrase, then lets out a chuckle. “What does this--?” he asks, pointing out the inked words on his skin.

“What do you mean? It is what it is.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“How do you mean it?”

She tilts her head pensively and squints at Porco as she gathers how to describe exactly what she meant. She supposes that he’s right-- a clarification was indeed necessary. This kind of thing could get confusing, after all. When you’ve known each other for so long in a relationship such as this, lines tend to blur. One day, you could both feel like the bestest of friends, and then like lovers the next.

“I mean it in a way that I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

“Oh.” Porco gapes at her for a moment. “Ok,” he says, letting out an awkward chuckle.

“What’s with that reaction? I’m serious, Pock.”

“I just… I mean, to be honest…” He furrows his brows, carefully pondering his words. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you either.” Porco scratches his head sheepishly.

“Ok then,” she chuckles, shifting in her seat to face him. “We could build something. Something bigger than a Lego house. Maybe one with a garden. A story with a perfect ending.”

“Yeah? And if it’s not perfect, what then?”

“Something worthwhile, then. An ending that feels like an ending.”

“Ok. I can live with that,” he laughs.

“Porco.”

As she cradles his face in between her palms, Porco becomes acutely aware of the flush in his cheeks.

Then, slowly, she leans closer to gingerly place a kiss at the tip of his nose.

They soon find themselves both chuckling at what was probably the most blatantly romantic gesture between them thus far.

“So, uh, what are we now, exactly?” he asks awkwardly as they soon pull away.

She shrugs. “Lovers? Best friends who would marry each other? Though the latter is kind of a mouthful if you ask me.”

“Yeah. Let’s go with that first one.”

“Say, Porco.” She tilts her head questioningly at him. “You want to tell me how this night ends?”

“How the hell should I--”

She puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. “Hey. Lovers now, remember? I’m not the only one telling this story. So tell me.”

“Ok. Let’s see,” he sighs. And so he indulges her. “It ends with you beside me. We’re lying down on my bed.”

“Clothed or naked?”

He gapes. “Are you seriously even consi--”

She flicks a finger against his forehead as she regards him with a mischievous smile. “Just answer the question.”

“Ok, fine,” he resigns, lightly kneading his forehead. “Look, I want to say naked because my AC’s broken ri--”

“Naked it is, then.”

“Clothed.” He glares. “For tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, scratching her head in resignation. “You sure you’re not having second thoughts about letting me stay tonight, though? Not worried you might wake up with a bunch of porcopines on your face? Or I don’t know-- dick drawings?”

“Fuck off,” he says with a chuckle.

“So… what is it, really? You want me to stay or you want me to go?”

Porco sighs before slowly leaning his face closer to hers.

“I want you to stay,” he says against her cheek, before placing a chaste kiss on her skin. “Whatever I wake up to in the morning, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

#porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fanfiction

146 notes · View notes

hereisleo · 4 years

Text

stardust in our veins/

w/ s.mg x reader

g/ college!au, fluff, budding romance

w.count/ 2814

a.n/ in which upcoming astrophysicist and model song mingi is in a dilemma over the soon to be love of his life. a part of ‘back to school’ writing event with @kpopscape

t.w/ swearing

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

Well, fuck. Mingi thinks his luck is the worst. The one time he needed the universe to make sense of course it wouldn’t. Then again turning to his astrophysics texts for guidance in the matter of love is the wrong place to start. Love doesn’t make sense like the universe, much of it still undiscovered and will continue to remain so. There’s only so much humans can learn and that by no means is little. He’s simply too finite to understand all the ways the universe has to offer. The perks of being mortal in his opinion.

His phone lights up, a notification appears on his screen. Don’t be late, Min! Right, he has to model for his friend tonight. He sends a quick confirmation text, a little cute onomatopoeia of ‘ang!’ Out of place with his stoic exterior yet that’s how he is, best of both worlds. Mathematics and astrophysics. Fashion industry and music. He could make it anywhere he wants to be. Mingi is confident in himself, he knows he has most of the skills set required to pursue all of his dream occupations. So he straightens the loose pages of a printed pdf file and tuck them into its folder. He could buy the textbooks but why would he do that? He likes to eat the rich so to speak. All his earnings go to tuition and he would live smartly to make it through another year.

The chair squeaks in the quiet library and he winces, slightly apologetic at the flinches from students studying in the library. He doesn’t dwell much in it, he slings his back over his shoulder and pushes his chair in, lifting it a touch to prevent the grating noise. He nods at the librarian and mouths his, ‘bye.’ And it’s just him and his little kidney beans, AirPods, pumping music into his ears. He makes his way around the ground, weaving through passing students going to different classes, the stares he receives are not foreign. He’s used to it. He’s always a head and some more taller than the average or maybe it’s his clothes or his colourful hair or the way he carries himself is out of place within the Department of Astrophysics. Mingi looks like someone from the Department of Arts. A fashion or music student. Some would say he’s here because of an athletic scholarship. He is simply exercising his freedom to wear whatever he wants.

Sik-K’s “Habibi” starts playing and he mumbles his curses, a love and hate relationship he has with his playlist. He just managed to distract himself from thinking about love and here he is, back to wallow in his one-sided pining. Pitiful. You’re pathetic, Song Mingi. His strides languidly back to his shared apartment, not too far off from campus, he could take the car but he likes to walk when the weather is nice. He wonders when did he begin liking you. The first time he sees you is in the Arts building when you were fitting his feline-like friend into a stage costume. He thinks he fell for how your brow knits together in concentration as your fingers deftly repaired loose embellishment of pearls on the velvet suit jacket. He vividly recalls how inky the fabric was, similar to the sky that night, Mars was visible from the big window at the fashion studio. He would catch glimpses of you here and there and because of that, his visits to the Arts building increased. His friends caught on immediately and they wouldn’t live it down.

Before he knows it, he’s already punching the security codes on his door. A happy greeting of his name falls short with an amused laugh. Even his best friend could tell, he’s wallowing in his feelings. Mingi whines, kicking his shoes off before unceremoniously taking all the space on the couch. Good thing his playlist has come to its end, he takes out the little kidney beans from his ears and let it rest on the coffee table.

“Love doesn’t make sense, Yunho,” he groans, burying his face against the giant brown bear plushie. A hand pats his head, “Love doesn’t make sense and so does the universe yet you love them the same.” Mingi thinks Yunho has been skimming through his astrophysics texts but highly unlikely, Yunho doesn’t enjoy reading. He sighs and nuzzles deeper into the belly of the soft toy. Hell, he much rather snuggle with you but alas you’re a distant star out of his reach. He could only see you behind the lenses of his telescope. He will make do with the bear and his friends for now. He likes being alone, he likes his space but he hates the feeling of loneliness that comes out to play every once in a while. More often now since he has you to pin over. His friends could only do so much for him.

Fuck you, Kim Hongjoong. Mingi keeps his head low and skirts around the photographer. You. He isn’t not aware you’ll be shooting him today, figuratively and literally. Yeosang has a shit eating grin on his face when Mingi sits on the chair to get his makeup done. “Not a word, Yeosang,” he mumbles and the grin widens. His friend only wipes his face clean before starting off with a quick skincare. He’s used to this, the gentle toner in white and blue packaging and the light cream patted into his skin. His friend went the length to purchase them specifically for him. He keeps his eyes trained on the mirror, tracking your movements all over the studio, talking to Hongjoong, toying with the navy and silver camera strap. He remembers buying the strap for Jongho when the old one was too worn out for use. It reminds him of the starry sky and it’s now in your hold. He bites his lip, it shouldn’t feel intimate yet here he is almost astral projecting because it feels as if you are holding part of his universe. Stop it, Mingi!

His pseudo makeup artist taps his abused lip with a warning tut, a red stain is smudged lightly before a clear gloss is patted over them so it doesn’t dry out his lips. Yeosang always scolds him for having chapped lips and this time Mingi sports dark smokey eyes, he could see hints of burgundy mixed into the brown shadows. Yeosang gives him a wink before sending him off to change. Hongjoong is a genius for designing outfits and he’s honoured to be one of the models walking in it. He wishes nothing but the best for the clothing line launch to be successful but he would be lying if he doesn’t want to wipe the smirk off the designer’s face right now.

Your fingers graze the skin of his back, his shoulders tensed and he presses his lips together to prevent any noise from escaping his mouth. Fuck this shoot. You’re just pinning his jeans because it’s slightly too big. Mingi wants to run home into the comfort of his bed and screams. Your radiating body heat is so warm and perhaps this is as close as he would ever to touch you, the human embodiment of the universe. He shouldn’t be this hypersensitive yet here he is flustered beyond his imagination. His lungs feel like they are collapsing. You are the 3-degree temperature difference in intergalactic space he learned about. His body couldn’t manage to reach equilibrium. Being around you makes his blood cells want to burst, the lack of atmospheric pressure puts a dizzy spell on him. Mingi thinks you’re an amazing being like the supercharged subatomic particles travelling almost just as fast as the speed of light. There’s only 0.1% difference. Magnificent.

Hongjoong and Yeosang smirk at his struggles. They are no strangers to his ‘internally screaming’ countenance. Mingi would have book it if they let him suffer any longer. He takes one look into the mirror, the long leather coat adds some invisible height to him, he appears taller than he already is and the chunky ribbed turtleneck accentuate his long neck. He glances over to the few more pieces hanging on the rack. Hongjoong kills it with the A/W capsule collection. He couldn’t wait to get into the patchwork trench coat and the purple overshirt that catches his attention since the prototype era. The universe has expanded further into infinity since then.

A gentle call of his name and the barely there touch on his back jolts him out of his reverie, eyes boring into yours almost bewitched. Your hand is right over where his birthmark is hidden under the layers of fabrics. “Mingi?” Your voice. Damnit, it’s so soft to his ears and the way his name rolls off your tongue raises the hairs on his arms. He dazedly hums in response, “Yes, stars?” The composition of a human being is as old as the universe itself, there are stardust running in the veins of mortals. He sees the brightest stars in your eyes. He doesn’t realise what he just called you, the term of endearment he refers you as in his head slips out to be immortalised. Sound waves travel into space and beyond, he can’t take back what he said. Your cheek is hot under his fingertips, in moments of bravery or stupidity, Mingi manages to string together a sentence, “Let’s take some pictures shall we?”

Bless Hongjoong for hooking up the music. He would run away if Taemin’s “Criminal” didn’t start playing. Don’t explode now. One more step to the front of the red backdrop. What foolish action did he do? How did he have the courage to talk to you and more over actually feel your skin under his fingers? He wants to scream and curl up on the floor. I did not just do that! Yeosang gives him a thumbs up for the corner of the studio. Thank heavens for his friends. He lets the electronic beats fill him and he loses himself in the act. His friends once told him, he’s a good actor. Now is the time for him to maximise the skill. A teasing drag of his bottom lip between his teeth, the smouldering gaze as he pierces through the camera lens straight at you just as the lyrics spews, ‘Destroy me more.’ Two can play this game and Mingi finds it relieving to find he’s not the one who is affected. It doesn’t quite make sense to you how he likes you and it doesn’t quite make sense to him how you like him. He’s not built for chasing love but now he knows you do have an interest in him, he takes the liberty to pursue it. He wouldn’t pour his love onto you yet. He has class and he’s not going to do anything that might spook you. Yes, he acts like an idiot sometimes but he’s not an idiot. He wants to make sure if you really have taken a liking of him or if he’s merely a passing interest. He doesn’t like getting hurt.

One wardrobe change and then two, the playlist continuous on, the hours blurred together. Mingi is in his last outfit, lying on the brown leather couch covered with colourful rugs and you’re hovering over him with the DSLR. He gives you, no, he means the camera, his best smirk and provocative lift of his eyebrow. From the corner of his eyes, Yeosang and Hongjoong are curling into each other to stifle bubbling laughter while monitoring all the shots appearing on the computer. The addictive riff of “Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer has him unbuttoning the purple overshirt. His friends are slapping each other and he hears you take sharp intake of breath. He is enjoying this way too much and he might as well. If he’s going to explode now is the time. Before the night ends, before the sky lightens, he would explode like a supernova, powerful and bright enough for its light to glow for more than a week. It’s rather selfish of him to make himself linger in your mind in a rather unorthodox fashion but he couldn’t help it, the opportunity is there for the taking. At some point the two nuclei would collide to create a new element, Mingi hopes it’s his and yours.

The following day Mingi wakes up to a series of texts in the group chat. The sheer amount of caps lock yelling are not anything new so he didn’t check it yet. He raises his arms and lets his muscles sing with the stretch. His feet kiss the cool floor and he makes his way out to do his day off routine. “Morning, Yunho,” he greets, his voice still rough from sleep, it sounds deeper even to his own ears. He hears his roommate rustling about in the living room and feet padding hurriedly to his direction, “Afternoon already, Min! And you can’t say that nonchalantly after what you did last night! You didn’t tell me this!” What did he do last night? Ah, right! He was modelling for Hongjoong, saw you and flirted with you indirectly through the camera lens. Yunho shoves his phone in front of him.

An A-cut photograph from the shoot is attached in the chat by Hongjoong. He was in the half open purple overshirt and sunglasses hanging between his teeth, glaring straight at whoever is looking at the picture. Consecutive texts from his friend group are under it, nothing but praises and Yunho is always first to compliment him. My best friend right there! Following the trail of text bubbles, he finds a short video. He presses the play button and immediately blushes, hiding his face in his hands with an exasperated sound. Last night model Mingi was brave enough to reach for the camera. In fact, he reached past it and cradled your cheek in his palm. “It was for the shoot!” Yunho pockets his phone. “Mingi. You eye fucked the camera through and through. In fact, it’s not the camera, it’s your ‘stars’.” The mirth in Yunho’s voice is enough to draw another whine from him. He couldn’t find fault in his best friend’s statement.

He has to go back in again today and how is he supposed to face you? I should call in sick. Yet with that thought he still works the coffee machine, his body moving rotely and his friend sidles next to him to help him with lunch. He could still sense the excitement radiating from the puppy-like man. An avocado toast later, Mingi is sent out with a cheery, “Have fun!” The little kidney beans are back in his ears, a mellow summer song soothes his pounding heart. The moon peeks between buildings as if to tell him it’s rooting for him. In such an aspect, he thanked the pile of regolith and dead volcanoes hanging in space.

His takes longer strides to the campus ground, arriving earlier than expected, his body understands the excited energy simmering under his skin. To see you standing in front of the Arts building entrance sparks something in him. Don’t do or say anything weird, Mingi. He breaks into a jog, calling your name properly this time. It’s an exaggeration but this is what he thinks being struck by a space debris must feel like. The shy wave of your hand and the sunlight blanketing your skin are enough to set his heart racing. “You look different today.” He supposed he does look different to you. Your encounters with him are always within the confinement of Hongjoong’s studio. You never see him in his casual state, so the messy, half wet hair from the shower earlier, the all sweats get-up he is in and the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose are foreign to you. Hell, you never see him cooing at a soft toy or notice how slow he eats. “Have you eaten yet?” That’s good, Min, that’s a safe question. You nod with a smile, pocketing away your phone, “Just enough to get through the meeting.” Mingi wants to curl up on the floor, what is he going to do with your undivided attention on him?

“Shall we grab something together afterwards?” He curls his hands into fist within the pockets of his sweatpants. What the hell did he just ask you? He needs that space debris to smite him out of existence right now. The endearing shy smile on curving your cheeks upwards has him biting his tongue. Mingi thinks a space debris really has vaporised him, your answer leaving him a stuttering blushing mess. “It’s a date then.”

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

93 notes · View notes

maddiethebull · 4 years

Note

28. "Gosh you look like angel..." Asmo x MC ^^

OOOH this is too cute!! Love this pairing of fluff and Asmo! Thanks for making a request

Asmodeus (Obey Me!) - Prompt #28 - “Gosh, you look like an angel…”

You lived out today as if it were any other day, because, well, it was. Birthdays weren’t all that important to you, it just meant you were a year older. Though you didn’t care much about it, you did find it endearing that the brothers decided to throw you a makeshift ball when Mammon found out that your birthday was going to be tomorrow. All you wanted to do was have a nice birthday dinner but that wasn’t enough.

“MCCCCCC you HAVE to have a partyyyy!!” shouted Asmo as you were explaining that it was no big deal and none of the brothers had to go to such lengths for tomorrow. But even though you said not to, Lucifer was ordering Mammon and Levi to put decor up as Beel and Satan moved furniture and Belphie swept the wooden floors.Currently the House of Lamentation was chaos and Asmodeus was “helping” by drawing a birthday card. He had good intentions, but he wasn’t the most gifted artist, most of his artistic skill, in fact all of his artistic skill seemed to lie with makeup and fashion, not pen and paper. He drew a lopsided teddy bear and colored it pink, because he knew that was both his and your favorite color. With them all working hard and Asmo giggling happily at his drawings, you decided to scuttle off back to your room since it was nearly 12:30 a.m. and unlike the average demon, you had to sleep every night. Asmo peeked at you walking away and went to retrieve something from his room.

You were getting ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door, you opened it and it was none other than Asmodeus holding a beautifully wrapped box with a pink satin bow on it.

“I know you don’t care about your birthday too much, so, to get you excited I decided to give you a gift! Wear this for the party and you’ll be even more gorgeous than you normally are! Not as hot as me, but you’ll be a very close second.”

You chuckled, “aww Asmo, thank you for the gift,” you said, heading straight for the package (winky wink, nah just the birthday present lol)

“Wait!” he shouted, “you can’t open this until tomorrow, silly,” he said with a playful wink. You jokingly rolled your eyes and agreed to his conditions. He handed you the present and for a split second you saw the most tender look in his amber-orange eyes,

“Happy birthday, MC. I’m actually super happy that I get to spend tomorrow with you. And that I get to be all dressed up and hot for your birthday ball.” You brushed it off as just being kind, you never thought of Asmo as the type to be lovey dovey and you certainly didn’t come off as that type either, though secretly all you wanted to do was cuddle up with him for the night. But alas, while the Avatar of lust flirted constantly, you never thought he meant it. As your train of thoughts went down this track, it made you feel quite sad and you wouldn’t want to go to bed feeling down so you decided to cut this conversation off while you weren’t too focused on whether Asmo was actually into you or not.

“Okay, it’s getting late and-”“OOOOH you’re inviting me in aren’t you? Such a sly fox!”

“No, Asmo, good night,” you both chuckled and he left for his room.

The next day came and you awoke to more than just the box beside your bed, it was all seven of the brothers. Lucifer held a cake (and held Beel away from eating it) and everyone else wore birthday party hats. Mammon somehow wore his wrong, you didn’t know why it was upside down or how it stayed like that but the sight of all of them together made your heart do backflips. These had to be the most amazing friends you’ve ever had. They cheerfully sang happy birthday, Asmo gave you your card, and thus began your day.

You had breakfast which was specially made by Satan, your favorite pancakes with some garnishes of pink and purple heart sprinkles added by Asmo.

You dug in and Asmo sat down next to you,

“So, MC, did you open your gift from me yet?”

You shook your head no, though now you felt the urge to get up and grab the box immediately. What can I say, it’s fun receiving gifts. You kept eating your pancakes as he spoke up again,

“It’s really special, okay, so open it while I’m there.”

This made you wonder what he was going on about, you had a slight inclination to assume it was just some high tech sex toy but he did say to wear it to your party, so that’s surely ruled out, right? Please be ruled out… You gave Asmo a nod and turned to Lucifer.

“So,” you said, “what time is my birthday ball going to start?”

Lucifer replied, “promptly at five o’clock. I will let the guests in, though we didn’t have much time to send out invitations. I have invited Diavlo and Barbatos as well as the angels and Solomon.”

“We should probably finish decorating since its nearly ten, we mustn’t procrastinate,” added Satan, “and Levi was removed from decor duty since he tried incorporating Ruri-chan into the banner…”

You replied, “Well, I have no problem helping out, me, Asmo, and Belphie can hang up what’s left of the decorations.” There were minor grievances toward you setting up for your own party, but seeing as how all of the brother’s stayed up, besides Belphie and Asmo, they weren’t too keen on working anymore. So it was planned, you would help set up then you would get ready. After breakfast you and Asmo went to Belphie’s room to get him up again seeing as he went straight to sleep after singing to you. Right before you knocked on the door,

“MC, why don’t we just put up the decorations, just the two of us?” Asmo said gently with a smile. You weren’t sure why he’d asked but it did mean you wouldn’t have to deal with a grumpy Belphie, so you both just went back to the ballroom. There were minor mishaps as you decorated, you had to stand on a ladder and nearly fell off, you managed to regain your balance but you looked down to see Asmo with a worried look and open arms. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t the strongest of demons, so you weren’t sure how safe it would’ve been for either of you had you actually fell. When you were both done, an epic high five was delivered and you went off back to your room.

It was now time to get ready! You showered and put on your makeup and just as you opened your closet, looking for something to wear, you remembered that you already had something. You called Asmo to come to your room, he came swiftly and watched with eager eyes as you opened your first gift of the day.

You gasped, “Oh, Asmo, this is beautiful.” You rushed at him to give a hug and he gladly accepted. You went back to your bed and picked up your gift to admire it once again. It was a wine red silk gown; backless with a mermaid silhouette. You noticed embellishments of small diamonds at the bottom of the skirt, you were genuinely in awe.

“You’re welcome, I knew you’d love it since I was the one who picked it out afterall.” He gave you a sweet smile and left you to get dressed, but wait! He forgot to give you his favorite diamond necklace. It was only for the night but you felt honored being able to wear the thin, teardrop shaped necklace. You felt like a beautiful princess, worthy to date a prince (of Hell). Then he left for real to let you get dressed. The guests began arriving and when you re-emerged from your room, all eyes were plastered on you. The wine color of the backless silk dress, the diamonds so elegantly sparking around your neck, the click clack of your heels against the marble steps – it was captivating.

As you descended the staircase, you saw Asmo emerge from another door carrying little cupcakes as confectioneries. He looked up and, wow, did he blush. The wash of pink on his pearlescent skin reminded you of a rose blooming amongst white lilies.

When you got down to him and the other brothers, Asmo seemed speechless, which was very out of character. You almost began to get self conscious without his showering of compliments, did the dress not suit you as well as you thought? He set down the plate of confectioneries and approached you slowly, like he was approaching the eighth wonder of the world. He looked you in the eyes, you could see so many emotions that you could barely decipher before he turned his eyes to the ground and with a tender smile, he spoke.

“Gosh, you look like an angel…” He whispered gently almost as if he were trying not to let anyone but you hear.

“Asmo,” you blushed, “I was waiting for some praise,” you let out in a joking tone.

He laughed with such joy, looking at you with bright burning eyes.

“Well, Ms. MC, I do believe that the breathtakingly gorgeous birthday girl and the best looking man at the party should have a dance.” He bowed and held out his hand, you graciously accepted and you danced the night away under the Devildom night sky. The party went on and you opened various other presents from the boys, one was a Ruri-chan t-shirt, another a cookbook with a bite? taken out of it. You couldn’t help but smile and laugh and exclaim that this was the best birthday you’ve ever had.

82 notes · View notes

notthatiwilleverwriteit · 4 years

Note

Anon a song? How 'bout 3? She Wants Revenge: Red Flags and Long Nights/ These Things/ Tear You Apart (all same band. Darker side of the fic I guess). I've been listening to this album all week andr eading Tianshan fanfic. Also this blog thing of yours (which I found the same day as 19 Days, both through Instagram, a couple of weeks back) and have been obsessed with. Thanks for still updating, you're very insightful. Keepin' me going through isolation! Keep well :)

Hello, dear anon!

Oh, so many things to talk about! First of all, welcome to the 19 Days fandom! 🎉 I don’t know how deep into the fandom you’ve managed to dig in a couple of weeks, but here are some 19 Days blogs I recommend you follow for awesome content:

@yaoi-blcd (translations)

@guanshanbabyfox (quick chapter/OX updates, Mo Guan Shan/Tianshan enthusiast, the source for all kinds of 19 Days knowledge, edits, reblogs that will introduce you to heaps of content creators in the fandom)

@casually-inlove (insightful theories, analyses, and overall thoughts, translations)

@call-me-ala (hilarious and amazing fan art, interesting thoughts and theories)

@i-got-these-words (probably the best damn edits in this fandom, amazing writer, and overall a very cool person, also reblogs a lot of 19 Days content)

@agapaic (probably the best fics I’ve read in this fandom)

@namenamejk (brilliant fan art, hilarious chibis and a style unbelievably close to OX’s)

@pierrot-et-colombine (gorgeous and so, so soft fan art)

@wwukie (very interesting and beautiful fan art)

@sukanne (gorgeous fan art with amazing details)

@zhanxixis (cute Zhanyi edits and Zhanyi content in general)

@q9won (some of the most adorable Tianshan art I’ve seen)

@nightfayre (another beautiful 19 Days writer)

@annowol (beautiful and interesting fan art)

@ginmayo (absolutely beautifully original 19 Days fan art and little comics)

@isou-chan (in case the angst gets to you, this artist will always make you laugh, hilarious fan art and beautiful style)

@st-yarema (interesting and beautiful fan art)

@19daysmemes (will introduce you to a lot of fandom creators via reblogs)

@1154lizz (quick translations)

There are, of course, so many others that could be added to that list, but I think those are a good place to start.

Secondly, I’m happy to hear you’ve enjoyed my blog and it has helped you with having to be isolated. I’m glad if I’ve been able to offer some distraction!

“Anon a song? How ‘bout 3?”

For those wondering what’s this about, some time ago I was asked people to send me songs to listen to. I ended up finding a couple of new ones that also fitted the story of 19 Days. Alright, let’s check out those songs! I don’t think I’ve heard of She Wants Revenge before.

Red Flags and Long Nights

Oh, this was so cool. I really digged the wonky music that had some psychedelic vibes to it and the “effects” on the vocalist’s voice. Some of the lyrics fit my aesthetics of consuming, almost addictive, and dark kind of love:

You can occupy my every sigh You can rent a space inside my mind At least until the price becomes too high […]‘Cause I need red flags and long nights and she can tell

An interesting song, definitely going to add it to my playlist.

These Things

Another interesting and dark one. I liked the vibes of wanting something that’s bad for you or you want to walk away from. “She” and “not a bad man” seem to be in a physical relationship that’s fast and passionate. They don’t have a future together but they also can’t quite resist each other.

The second verse caressed the nihilistic side of me perfectly:

Lovers hold hands to numb the painGripping tightly to something that they’ll never ownAnd those by themselves by choice or by some rewardNo mistakes, only now you’re boredThis is the time of your life but you just can’t tell

This is all very anti-relationship. Relationships are something we feel like we need in life despite their almost illusion-like nature. We’re “bored” without them, unable to enjoy our lives. We need relationships to distract ourselves, and it’s almost like we’re fooling ourselves from seeing for what we’re using love.

Tear You Apart

This was probably my most favorite! I just loved the contrast the lyrics had, especially the chorus:

I want to hold you closeSkin pressed against me tightLie still, and close your eyes girlSo lovely, it feels so rightI want to hold you closeSoft breasts, beating heartAs I whisper in your earI want to fucking tear you apart

It starts kind of pure and romantic; wanting to hold her close and lay there together with her eyes closed and just the two of them. Then it gets more “carnal”; talking about her breasts and heart, until the climax of wanting to tear her apart.

I was also fascinated by the “he” character in the song and how his crush/like/love was described. It shook him to his core and was almost a violent experience. He needed to even escape the situation. All of that is interesting when it turns out later in the song that it a school crush.

Thank you so much for these! They were wonderfully dark and angsty. Also, no need to worry about sending songs with explicit lyrics. I don’t have a problem with them at all.

“what does 'Don’t Close Mountain’ mean?”

Ah, one of the many nicknames HT has given MGS (ch. 173):

There is actually a wonderful post by @thingsthatfml about the meanings of the boys’ names. “Don’t close mountain” doesn’t really mean anything as such. As far as I know, It’s not an idiom or anything. But I think the characters hold some symbolism for MGS’s character. They’re connected to the overall themes of him not trusting people, keeping up high walls around himself, and making himself difficult to approach on purpose. And HT is working hard at chipping away at all of that and digging out MGS who’s been hiding and distancing himself for a long time.

Thank you for your questions, dear anon!

#song asks #19 days #mo guan shan #other asks

36 notes · View notes

mrnicholas · 4 years

Text

2020 - 20 Facts!

I’ve been tagged apparently.

Tagged by @jchb32273

1. Do you make your bed?

Heeeeeell no. I’ve never understood the point of doing it. So it looks nice when you’re not on it? Why does your bed need to look nice? Especially since you’re just going to mess it up again, in my case almost immediately. I practically live on my bed.

2. What’s your favorite number?

7! Seven. It’s less the number and more the word. It’s just a really pretty word.

3. What’s your job?

Being a conduit for the forces of evil. And drawing?

4. If you could, would you go back to school?

Yes! Definitely. I actually really loved school.

5. Can you parallel park?

Can not.

6. A job you had which would surprise people?

Nothing would surprise people. I don’t have an impressive resume to begin with.

7. Do you think aliens are real?

‘Aliens’ as in little green men and ufos or other sentient life in the galaxy? No to the first, yes to the second. I have no proof of this, I just think we’d be pretty arrogant to think we’re the only intelligent, society building life in the universe. Whether or not we actually are remains to be seen. I hope not. If humans are the smartest species out there....well that’s depressing given the state of things.

8. Can you drive a manual car?

Can not Part II: The return of Nope.

9. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Writing incredibly smutty and romantic fanfics with my best friend. Because reasons. It’s one of my favorite things ever and something most people only expect from teenagers not grown women in their mid thirties

10. Tattoos?

I wish. If I had money and a decent pain tolerance I’d be covered in them. Alas I lack both so my skin is naked and sad.

11. Favorite color?

I have no idea. I really really love lime green, and chartreuse, but not for everything. I really like really bright citrus colors, green, orange, yellow...I like really dark forest greens and teals, dark blood reds...but I can’t say if any of them my favorite. Most colors I like paired with other colors and not by themselves. Everything is better when it has a friend. Everything I get is black and white...most of my clothes are black and white or just black...my room is decorated in black and white, neither are colors. I don’t know the answer to this question.

12. Things people do that drive you crazy?

1)Believe that their opinions are facts and then try to force them on other people. 2) When people can’t or won’t try to see things from a perspective other than their own.

3) Not consider anyone else but themselves, even and maybe especially strangers. It takes literally no effort to be considerate of someone else.

I have a very long list. No one has that kind of time.

13. Any Phobias?

Dead people/Zombies. Creepy underwater areas. Insects/spiders. Giant australian stick insects are the most horrifying things I’ve ever seen. I panic if there are insects near me. I’ve determined this is how I will die. Once I was trying to kill a spider on the ceiling in my bathroom and I climbed up on the counter, fell off, over the toilet and slammed my back into the shower faucet. I’ve had bad back problems on and off since then.

14. Favorite childhood sport?

None. I’m not and have never been a sports fan. I am also not coordinated.

15. Do you talk to yourself?

Every day. I have a tendency to act out scenes when I’m left alone. A habit from childhood that I’ve never outgrown.

16. What movie do you adore?

Oh man...All of them? lol I have so many. I love dark movies from my childhood like Beetlejuice, Death Becomes Her, The Frighteners, . I love classic movies. Love Philadelphia Story and All About Eve, The Odd Couple, Arsenic and Old Lace, a thousand more of those. I love Adventure movies, Marvel movies, vampire movies, romantic comedies, and HORROR. I love supernatural horror. I pretty much love everything except incredibly cheesy (in a bad way) movies, really immature comedies (which seem to be the thing nowadays) and super artistic movies. Most everything else I usually find something I like about them....most of the time. There have been plenty of exceptions.

But if we’re talking movies I can watch all the time for no reason whatsoever...Interview with the Vampire and Moulin Rouge come to mind.

17. Do you like doing puzzles?

Depends on the kind of puzzle. I love word puzzles, riddle puzzles in video games, but like a puzzle puzzle where you put all the pieces together? Not really.

18. Favorite kind of music?

Jrock! Mucc, Dir en grey, Buck Tick, X Japan, Pierrot etc. I have a very long list of jrock bands I love. Other than that I really love music from other countries.I have a lot of Turkish music, Russian, French, German, Mongolian.....I love videogame music. I love classical. For western music it’s a really weird mix. I have Spice Girls, Rihanna, Raja Kumari, Metallica and Marilyn Manson on the same playlist. It pretty much runs the gamut except for country.

19. Tea or coffee?

Neither. I hate both.

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up?

First thing ever? Ballerina when i was three for some weird reason. Then I realized that I was a clumsy mess and ended up with gigantic boobs. Also I have no discipline.

Not tagging anyone, because...reasons? Mostly because it’s 4am and I’m really tired, but also because I don’t really want to. But thank you for tagging me. I’m sorry you had to read my rant.

#20 questions #I have to pee #Good night

15 notes · View notes

angryrabbit42 · 4 years

Text

Bonus Tracks 3

All for the lovely: @a-rose-by-any-other-doctor @dwsecretsanta

Read on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925084/chapters/52331086

Annoyed that he must help fund UNIT by schmoozing, the Fourth Doctor picks up a mysterious date by the side of the road.

Track 2: Guest

Rose’s eyes opened. Sitting up, she turned to view the Doctor’s dark eyes. He was blinking as the connection between them was severed by her quick movements. “Oh, that was,” the Doctor murmured.

“You kissed me!” Rose exclaimed, giggling. “It took you forever to kiss me the first time and that version of you did it in less than four hours.”

“Well, I was a bit of a flirt, in that incarnation.”

“In *that* incarnation?” Rose asked, brows arching.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “I’m not always… so…”

“What?”

“Interested in all that… romance… It’s unusual.” Awkwardly, the Doctor tugged on his ear, not bothering to get up from his position against the headboard. “Timelords aren’t… we don’t do romance. I mean they didn’t. I sometimes…”

Rose covered his mouth. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

The Doctor huffed warm breath against her hand. Rose snorted, removing her hand before he decided to lick her palm. His eyes twinkled with mischief as if he had been thinking of licking her palm and was a bit thwarted by her moving it away.

“Alright,” Rose said, turning around and laying back against him. “Ready for the next one?”

His fingers resumed their place against her temples. “Oh, erm, this one’s mine, I think, not yours… You may remember it already.”

“How do you know?” Rose asked, enjoying the closeness and the heat radiating from him as they basically cuddled. “Is there a note on it or something?”

“No, it feels like me, like a memory from the one with the scarf… Only way to find out is to open it up.” He wiggled his fingers, tickling her. She puffed out a breath in annoyance but she didn’t mean it. He ignored it anyhow, pressing until she felt his mind swirling around hers again, an excited feeling rushing through him as he whispered the next word on his list.

Rose felt irritation filling her up, plus a healthy dose of ego and her brain was almost flooded with thousands of lines of thought. The feeling was tamped down apologetically, as Rose temporarily became the Doctor on Earth somewhere in the early 80s? Or late 70s? The Doctor hadn’t been paying attention to the time ironically.

“Absolutely not! I’m a Timelord! Not some Cigarette Rep from Leeds,” the Doctor shouted.

Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart’s eyebrows quirked up, making his ridiculous mustache quiver like a particularly annoying rabbit. The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly, wondering if shouting a bit more would help. It did, sometimes. Sheepish, he hunched his shoulders. “I won’t go,” he said petulantly. “Sarah’s not going. I have a working time machine now and I don’t work for you anymore, so there.”

“Doctor, this isn’t a sales summit. The top scientists are all meeting in London to mingle and garner money for various projects,” the brigadier said, tone patronizing and long-suffering.

The Doctor huffed.

“And as much as it pains me to say so with your enormous ego, you are the most intelligent scientist on Earth,” he continued as if the Doctor was not sulking. “I realize Miss Smith is unavailable since I was the one who sent her out to cover the story in Aberdeen. UNIT needs the backing. We’re seriously lacking in budget here.”

The Doctor had noticed the drop off in biscuit selection lately around the HQ. He didn’t like that one bit. And… he had nothing on. Just… waiting around to convince Sarah to take another jaunt into Time and Space. “Why should I care about money?” he demanded, determined not to give in easily. He couldn’t let the brigadier know he could be persuaded by biscuits. It was undignified.

“We both know you have nothing to do but wait for Miss Smith to come back…”

“Not true!” he shouted. (It was.) “Patently untrue!” he boomed. “Oh fine! Perhaps one of the scientists will be a megalomaniac. Worth a look, eh? Sh!” he put his finger against his lips to forestall the brigadier. “I want double the pay for this. Put it in Sarah’s account. She knows what I like. And I will drive myself.”

“Fine. But you’ll take a car. I don’t want you taking off in that box of yours and missing the meeting by several decades.”

“Fine,” the Doctor agreed, hand out for the invitation. “It’s a lovely day for a drive.” He beamed.

He stormed out of the office for good measure. Very soon he was going to cut ties with this place. His feet were itchy. Sarah’s were too. She was a good one for his life. Shame Harry would probably balk but not everyone was cut out for a nomadic lifestyle. Trailing his long multi-colored scarf behind him, he stalked out to his yellow roadster.

The road was empty as he cruised along muttering about all the planets he was going to show to Sarah Jane Smith. Clom, the Eye of Orion, Calibris, oh yes, a pirate planet would be a lovely trip! He needed some backup fluid links, the damned things were always evaporating on him. So wrapped up in his musings, he nearly hit the young woman who blinked into existence a foot in front of his car. The Doctor was a marvelous driver if he did say so himself, and managed to cut the wheel hard enough to avoid injuring her. He didn’t miss the ditch on the side of the road, however. Slamming the car into park, he stared. She had stumbled forward as if he had run straight into this dimension. The energy around her smelled like ozone and artron. Her timelines were an absolute labyrinth. He closed his timesenses before a migraine could set in. “Well, aren’t we a complicated event in space-time,” he exclaimed.

She turned to face him. Slight with blonde hair, her large eyes locked onto him and her generous mouth pulled up into a charmingly delightful devil-may-care grin. “Sort of, yeah,” she agreed with a laugh. “I’m looking for a friend.”

“Are you indeed?” the Doctor wondered aloud. “My friend is in Aberdeen.”

She snorted. She was dressed in clothes reminiscent of the 2000s with her dark, form-fitting trousers, pink top and indigo leather jacket. She had a utilitarian black backpack on and something about her stance reminded him of a dancer or a martial artist. “I’m not sure my friend knows the difference between Hyde Park and Aberdeen.”

What a curious creature! What a strange sentence to utter? He made a face, considering. “It looks as if we’re both short a friend for today. I suppose that means we should join forces. I’ve got to go to a boring event full of clever people who are alas, not as clever as me. Care to accompany me? I’ve been told there will be nibbles.” The Doctor extended the invitation in the hope of learning more about this curious creature. “Unless you’re part of the vanguard for an invasion fleet? No? Pity.”

Her grin tugged at his hearts. She came closer, examining his car. “Retro,” she commented, petting Bessie. He offered her a hand. She clasped it and allowed him to help her into the car. Her skin was warm, calloused and let him know she ran a bit hot and had enough artron energy inside her small form to power a Rutan ship for several months. A wash of comfort ran through him when she squeezed his fingers before releasing them.

Confused he focused on getting the car out of the ditch and back onto the road.

“I’m from London, originally,” she offered after a few minutes of open road. “This one I think, although it looks a bit...80’s right now.” She made a face and shrugged.

“I’m the Doctor,” he offered. “But I have a feeling you might know me, already.”

Her smile was enigmatic. “I suspected what with the scarf. You really love your layers, don’t you Doctor?” she asked and ran a hand down his scarf, giving it a playful tug.

“I’m not unfamiliar with the phenomena of meeting people before you’ve met them. I’m a time traveler after all,” the Doctor told her. “It’s practically in the brochure. Ah ha. And believe me, I’m sure I will enjoy making your acquaintance again in the future but until such time as time rights itself or rewrites itself, what shall I call you? It’s simply rude to keep addressing you in my head as young woman and out loud, even more so...”

“And you’re never rude,” she said solicitously and the Doctor got the distinct impression that this young woman was mocking him. “Sorry Doctor, you’re right. You can call me Rose, erm, Smith.”

“Smith?” the Doctor snorted. “That’s perfect. I often go by John Smith when I’m undercover.”

“S’good name, Smith. Had a few good friends named Smith in my time. Love the curls by the way.” Rose reached out a hand and looped one of his curls around her finger. The Doctor’s eyes widened in surprise. She winked. “We can pretend to be a couple. For your party...”

He fell silent. Rose stayed in his personal space, comfortable with him in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable in how not uncomfortable it was. Her presence seemed to sooth an ache in his hearts he wasn’t aware of having. Curious. “Is that what we are in the future? A couple?”

Rose’s expression was solemn. “You tell me, Doctor Smith.”

“Aaahhh, Mrs. Smith, you intrigue me,” he bantered back.

Silence reigned as the Doctor took them to the hotel on the invitation. Rose opened her bag, searching through it. She pulled out a simple black dress and a pair of basic kitten heels. She slipped her jacket off and tossed the dress on over her magenta top, then while his eyes tried to stay on the road, she removed the top leaving her in the dress and trousers. She settled the black fabric into place and shucked the trousers.

“Stockings,” he said.

“Right,” Rose said and pulled a nude pair out of her back. She shimmied into them and had her shoes on in seconds. Her hair was up in a loose chignon by the time they reached the valet. Her eyes which were the most delicate shade of amber with flecks of green and gold twinkled when he hopped out and offered her a hand down. She left her bag in the car.

They approached the lobby and the Doctor brandished his invitation. “Doctor, and Mrs. Smith, UNIT.” The man barely glanced at the invitation before letting them inside. His eyes had been glued to Rose’s assets. Rose rolled her eyes and hooked an arm through his. The Doctor felt a frizzle of anger toward the man who let them in. Rose squeezed his bicep.

“Dimensional traveler, who has a bag full of occasional wear, Rose Smith, I think I’ve married well.” he teased.

Rose’s eyes were on the swirl of people. Many were dressed in dresses similar to hers. The men wore suits and some had the nerve to wear bowties! The Doctor wasn’t interested in changing his frock for the brigadier’s stuffy friends. She grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and offered him one. “Is it Christmas?” Rose asked.

“Near enough, it’s the thirteenth of December,” the Doctor replied then spotted a familiar face. “Harry! Over here.”

Harry Sullivan waved. Rose’s eyes sparkled with interest as the naval doctor extricated himself from a conversation with a few men in ill-fitting suits to approach them. “Doctor, old boy, how did the brigadier convince you to come to this convention of stuffed shirts?”

“Nibbles,” Rose exclaimed and pointed, her accent becoming a bit more London as she went on, “He told you there would be nibbles and you couldn’t resist, c’mon, admit it, Doctor!” She sipped her champagne, giggling. He arched his brows at her.

“She’s got you there, old boy,” Harry said giving Rose a once over, no doubt wondering where Sarah was. The trio had been inseparable lately. “And you are?”

“Harry Sullivan, this is Rose. She’s not local.”

“Shows what you know, mate. My job is going to be built down the street from here in a few years,” she whispered.

“Oh, oh,” Harry remarked stupidly. “Charmed.”

Rose grinned and let Harry take her hand and kiss the knuckles. “You’re adorable.”

“Rose,” he grumbled and just like that Rose slipped her arm back through his.

Harry looked between the Doctor and Rose. “No hope of an invasion tonight, is there?”

The Doctor scanned the crowd. There were a few Zygons pretending to be scientists but nothing too sinister. “No,” he said in his most dolorous tone.

“Well then, I’m going to mingle, eh? Get those UNIT coffers filled. Nice to meet you, Rose. Doctor, don’t go anywhen without me.” He winked.

The Doctor perked up. “Oh no, of course not Harry.”

“I’ll see you when the old girl gets back?” he asked.

Positively giddy at the prospect of Harry traveling with them, the Doctor bobbed his head. “If she hears you calling her that, you may never get the chance to travel with us.”

Harry laughed and swirled away into the crowd. He was immediately absorbed into a large group of scientists and doctors. Rose had grabbed gingerbread man off a tray and bit its head off. The scent of ginger made him a bit lightheaded. She offered him a bite and smirked.

They socialized. Rose was knowledgeable, friendly, and talked pennies out of pockets like an heiress. The Doctor was broiling with curiosity. Her skin was flushed a bit with drink. Her giggling was louder and more adorable now. She kept offering him ginger laced things. They ate at Harry’s table and he regaled Rose with stories from the navy and in low tones about how he met the Doctor. Rose whispered something to him that made Harry nod enthusiastically and whisper back something that had Rose in stitches. Jealousy wormed around in his stomach. It was a foreign emotion. He shook his head to clear it and snapped at an archeologist.

Rose’s hand slipped into his under the table. The beast within was soothed. The Doctor’s confusion grew. Rose offered him a smile with her tongue caught between her teeth and his hearts raced. Confused, he glanced away from her and tried to open his senses to her again. The timelines were a mangled nightmare around her. Some of the lines snapped and snarled back. Dizziness crept up his spine. Rose pinched him. “Not here. You’ll get a headache.”

He nodded. She offered him a piece of spice cake. Rose smirked. He could smell the ginger in it. The conversation flowed around them so he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “why are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I want to dance,” Rose said offered, her eyes too bright. “I thought… you might if you were a bit… stupid. Sorry. S’just, I know you’re not the right You for me but you’re still You and I missed this.” A glimpse of pain and sadness appeared in those fathomless amber eyes before the flecks swirled and Rose was smiling again. “Stupid.”

“I’m an excellent dancer,” he offered.

“I’ve never seen you dance,” Harry said in surprise. “I haven’t! Mind you, I have seen him jump rope in a harlequin costume so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Rose’s laugh was genuine. The Doctor beamed. He swiped a gingerbread man off a biscuit tray and nibbled on an arm. “On Sarton X the people are made of shoganals. Eating gingerbread there is tantamount to cannibalism.”

A fond look crossed Rose’s features. The warmth of it spread from her to him. The music kicked up. They stood. The Doctor offered her his arm and Rose came to him. They drifted out to the dance floor. Swaying gently to the music, the ginger increased the warmth he was feeling as the human woman in his arms acted as if she belonged there.

“How long have you been looking for me, Rose?” he asked.

“All my life,” she teased, side-stepping the question. “Really Doctor, you know better than to ask about your future.”

“How about now? How long are you staying here?” he asked. “In this time or dimension?”

Rose leaned against him, her head against his chest. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she was smelling him. “Two hours left, then I try again tomorrow to find you.”

“You’ve found me. I’m right here.” the Doctor said practically. “I can take you to me.”

Rose’s eyes lit up then faded. “I’m sure you would tell me that I can’t mess with your timeline. I could change things so that we never meet.”

“Pfaw, I would never,” he grumbled, knowing she was right. “The risk is slight. My Tardis could take you to his Tardis.”

“I’d end up in Aberdeen,” she muttered. “No. I have to find the right you, in the right time. What if this dimension is the wrong one? I can’t take the risk.” Rose was so close that they were hugging more than dancing.

“Nonsense, dimensional travel is as simple as setting the stabilizers… As long as those idiots on Gallifrey don’t decide to detour us, we could be there in minutes, seconds. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve met myself…”

Rose didn’t respond. She just let him move her around the floor.

“Who are you to me?” the Doctor asked in a hushed tone.

She shrugged. “Can’t we just enjoy the party?”

They ended up on the roof. Rose had retrieved her bag from the car. He would be going back to UNIT alone. She had a few minutes left. He watched her. “I barely know you and I can’t help wanting to keep you here,” he confessed.

Rose was wearing his scarf. She’d had to loop it around her neck several times and it still trailed on the ground. “Oh, you’ll be alright. Sarah Jane will take care of you.”

“Sarah’s my best friend,” the Doctor said warmly even though he had barely thought about her after picking up Rose. Now the image of Sarah in his scarf superimposed itself over Rose and he felt a pang of annoyance with himself.

“Oh, I know,” Rose replied with a knowing smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Doctor asked, reaching for her. “Tell me something about you…”

She glanced at her watch. “Oh, what the hell! I’ve still got a minute to go.” Rose dove into his arms. Rising up on tiptoes, she pressed warm lips against his. Surprised, he wrapped his long arms around her, practically lifting her up so she could continue kissing him. The pleasant warmth he’d been feeling all night exploded into a confusing array of emotions and feelings. Her lips were smooth, soft, and hot against his cooler ones. The taste of ginger hit him and the crisp bite of the champagne as she deepened the kiss, her fingers sliding into his curls to ravage them. Hearts racing, he hadn’t expected a kiss to unsettled him.

She let go just as his respiratory bypass kicked in. Laughing, she unlooped the scarf and wrapped it back around him. Her cheeks were a delightful pink, lips swollen and eyes practically glowing golden. “That’s all you need to know about me,” she said.

“That good?”

“It’s gonna be fantastic.”

Rose faded away.

#dwsecretsanta #rose tyler #Rose x tentoo #Rose x Fourth Doctor #Fourth Doctor

1 note · View note

hookedonapirate · 5 years

Text

To Play the Game (and win your heart)

Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.

Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.

The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.

Artwork by: @distant-rose

Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.

Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .

Author’s Notes: There's two more chapters after this, and I'm so sad this story is coming to end soon but I've had so much fun reading all of your reviews. Because someone had mentioned this, I wanted to clarify that Killian's character is in no way based on Jack in Heartbreakers, in case you've seen the movie and haven't already figured that out, and I love that one of you mentioned it! Killian may be a fool in love, but he's certainly not a hopeless spineless sap, so please don't expect Emma to be let off scot-free - but you will see how things turn out very soon. Here we go!

Thank you @captainswanbigbang and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.

A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is. And thank you @wellhellotragic for pointing out a few dumb mistakes as well.

Thank you @distant-rose for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.

There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Also available on: AO3 FFnet

Artwork by @distant-rose

Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art Ch 7 Art Ch 8 Art

Chapter 10: Final Round

~Rule #10: Keep your eyes on the finish line. You're about to rip the rug from underneath his feet, flip his world upside down and destroy everything he’s worked so hard for, so whatever you do, don’t let anything or anyone get in your way, no matter what. Put on the show of your life, but your heart must remain of steel when you rip his out and let it crumble in between your fingers.~

The early morning light illuminates softly through the bedroom windows, creating a warm glow in the room. Killian is lying on his stomach as he starts to stir in the tangled blankets and sheets, the delicious aroma of coffee intriguing his senses. Turning his head away from the intrusive light, he instinctively reaches out towards the other side of the bed, but instead of finding his wife, he finds her side empty. Gradually opening his groggy eyes, he lifts his head to confirm his Swan is not there.

Mustering the energy from his tired bones, he slowly makes his way out of bed, pulls on a pair of boxers and goes in search of her.

He once again finds Emma sitting out on the terrace, this time in a light blue nighty, staring out over the ocean and nursing a coffee. He doesn't blame her though. The sound of the waves and seagulls are soothing, and the gentle breeze feels quite perfect.

Killian grins at the sight and comes up behind her, wrapping her up in his embrace. “Aren't I the one who's supposed to be the early riser?” he teases playfully.

Emma shudders in his hold, turning her head and offering a smile smile. “I just woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep.”

“How come, darling? What's on your mind?”

Emma shrugs softly. “I just realized last night how little we really know about each other.” She turns around in his arms, looking up at him. “I mean, aren't married couples supposed to know every little thing, like the tattoos they have and what the other likes in bed? We've never even seen each other naked until last night.”

Killian’s features fall in disappointment. Was he not adequate enough for her? He thought she’d enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he had, but maybe he was mistaken. “Was I… did I do something wrong?” he asks, worry lacing his tone.

Emma shakes her head, a smirk curving her lips. “No, of course not. You were... incredible.”

Killian sighs in relief, his expression relaxing a bit. “Then what's the problem, sweetheart?” he asks softly. “Not all couples have sex before marriage.”

“I know… but those people normally know everything else about their partner. And we didn’t. We still don't.”

“Emma, we have from now until the end of time to get to know each other,” he points out in a hopeful tone. “Are you regretting getting married too soon?”

Emma shakes her head, pursing her lips in contemplation, her eyes full of conflict. “No, I'm not, I just... there are some things I need to tell you.”

Killian places the pad of his index finger on her lips to stop her from saying anything more. “It can wait. Our honeymoon is supposed to be relaxing, not stressful,” he reminds her.

Emma looks like she still wants to tell him something, but right now he has other ideas as he takes the coffee cup from her hand and places it on the outdoor table.

“I want my wife to feel pampered and loved appropriately, not worried or discouraged.” Before she can respond, Killian is running his hands down her exquisite curves, following the trail down her clothed body with his lips. She shows him no resistance and is already responding with a soft moan, her body molding into his touches.

He kneels down in front of his sweet goddess, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She braces back against the railing as he sneaks his head underneath her gown and uses his mouth and fingers on her, caressing her folds and enjoying her sweetness on his tongue. Hearing her soft curses above him, he eagerly explores his wife, devouring her in his mouth and pumping his fingers into her heat. It's not long before he’s pulling her into the abyss, her walls fluttering around his tongue as she offers all of her essence to him, crying out into the open, morning air.

Licking his lips, he picks her up and carries her back to bed where they display their affections with gentle caresses, satisfying strokes and sweet kisses. They explore every inch of skin, every line and every curve, memorizing and getting to know each other’s body more thoroughly. They stay in bed long into the late afternoon until they finally remove themselves to shower and make breakfast together.

$*$*$

Emma wants to stay on the island with Killian forever, but alas, real life forces them to go back. After getting back from their honeymoon very late, Emma drives to work early in the morning, while he visits the driving range.

She has this foreign feeling blooming inside her. She’s never been this happy before, and can’t say she hates the feeling. There’s just a tiny problem of having to tell Milah to call off the con, though, but she hopes to quickly rectify that.

She dials Milah’s number during her drive to work and it rings a few times before her sister answers.

“Hey?” Milah’s words are laced with confusion. Emma really has no reason to call her, because the plan is already set in motion. They never talk to each other between the wedding and the carefully planned affair, so neither will get doubts or mixed feelings, and neither one will be influenced by the other to back out. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Emma takes a deep, shaky breath, not sure how to form in words what she wants to tell her sister. “Actually, no, not really,” she confesses, the inside of her stomach twisting with nerves, like it’s filled with snakes.

“What is it? If you’re worried about how things will go, please don't. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

“It’s not that,” Emma begins, and she’s feeling conflicted. She knows she has to fess up and tell Milah the truth, but at the same time she doesn’t want to disappoint her sister. She also doesn't want to hurt Killian. It’s a lot like she’s choosing between them, and her loyalty should be leaning towards Milah, but her heart is going off in an entirely different direction. “I’m calling off the con,” Emma blurts out loud, and the silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Emma starts to panic, not knowing exactly how Milah is reacting to this.

“You wanna what?” Milah questions finally, after an eternity, or so it feels, her tone hinting towards anger and irritation.

Emma’s heart is hammering so fast, she’s not sure if she can tell her sister how she really feels exactly. “I… I can’t go through with it.”

Milah emits a strangled noise and Emma has to hold the phone away, her features twisting in confusion. Is Milah really laughing?

Holding the phone to her ear again, Emma can still hear her laughing for several more seconds before the sound finally dies in Milah’s throat.

“Oh Emma, that’s a good one. You really had me going for a sec.”

“No, I’m serious, Mi. I can’t go through with this.”

“And why not?” Milah’s tone is much more serious, and Emma can tell she is not thrilled by this revelation.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Emma throws around the idea of telling her the truth because isn’t that the whole point of this conversation—to tell Milah the truth? “Because I’m in love with Killian.”

Again there is silence, and it’s completely overwhelming. She needs something; any sort of response will do, really, but there’s nothing for what feels like several minutes.

“Milah?”

“I cannot believe this. You’re the one who begged me to go along with this. Ever since you saw that damn golfer, you have nothing but insisted that he is the one who will get us to Hawaii.”

“Milah—”

“No, let me finish.” Her tone is sharp, full of fire as she continues. “You swore up and down you could do this. You said ‘trust me, sis. I won’t let you down, I promise,’ so I agreed, even though I knew it wasn’t the best decision.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel. Do you really think I wanted this? I mean after everything we’ve done so far, do you think I wanted to let you down? It hurts like hell knowing I did,” Emma admits, her voice cracking with apology. “I really wanna make this up to you, but right now I just need to know you won’t go through with this.”

Mialah sighs through the phone, and Emma can sense her resolve is weakening. “Fine, I won’t. Your feelings are more important than the con.”

Emma is flooded with relief, and she takes a deep breath, releasing all of the stress she had felt from thinking about Milah going through with the plan. “Thank you Mi. I really owe you one.”

“Big time,” Milah agrees with a laugh.

Emma smiles, knowing that everything will be okay. Or at least she hopes. She still has to tell Killian the truth, as much as it will hurt. She cares for him too much to not tell him. She just hopes she doesn't lose him after she does. “How about I start off with a thank you meal from TooJay’s Deli after I get out of work,” Emma offers, knowing their corned beef and pastrami sandwich is Milah’s favorite.

“I’ll take it,” Milah accepts rather quickly, her words edged with excitement. “When do you think you’ll be home?”

Emma looks at the clock below her dashboard. It normally takes fifteen minutes to get from Marco’s to her house, but since she has to stop at the deli first, she knows it will be longer than that. “Well, based on the traffic, I wanna say two, two thirty is that too late?”

“No it's perfect. Can’t wait.”

$*$*$

Entering the driving range he’s grown so familiar with, Killian wipes the sweat from his brow. He’s prepared for a morning of practice in the sweltering heat, reflecting on the honeymoon and the wonderful time he’d had with Emma.

Killian knew he’d be taking a risk proposing so soon and getting married not long after, but he doesn’t regret any of it. He’s incredibly happy, and he never thought he could be—not until Emma had entered his life.

He’s looking forward to the future awaiting him and his wife—a future of Emma being by his side, both of them supporting each other in any possible way, a future of loving Emma until his heart no longer beats in his chest. He’s also looking forward to telling the whole world he’s married to the most beautiful woman on the planet.

“Hook, I should’ve known you’d be back here practicing for the next game right after your honeymoon.”

Regina’s playful words surprise him before he can hit the ball in front of him, and he looks over, seeing her striding over to him holding a manilla envelope in her hands. Still gripping onto the club, he greets her with a blushing smile before returning his focus to the range in front of him. “So you’ve heard?” He swings and hits the ball, letting it cut through the air, and he watches it land before turning around to face Regina once more.

The woman nods, closing the distance between them and standing in front of him. “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”

“And let me guess who told you—Mary Margaret?”

Regina laughs. “Come on Hook, you know she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Killian nods in agreement. He likes to give his agent the benefit of the doubt, but she’s been known to let things slip out once in a while when she gets too excited. “So, what can I do you for?”

Her face becomes more serious, concern washing over her features. “Look, Killian, I really wish you would have told me you were getting married to Miss Swan, because then I could’ve warned you.”

“It’s Mrs. Swan-Jones now,” he corrects, lifting a brow as his smile dims; he suddenly has a bad feeling in the pit of stomach. “Warn me about what?”

Regina sighs and peers down at the folder in her hands. “Well you know whenever I have a bad feeling about something, I can’t let it go. I end up turning to Sydney to gather information and ease my mind.”

“Regina, who did you spy on?” he demands, growing irritated. He hates when she uses Sydney to do her dirty work. Hell, he hates that she always has to go digging up dirt in the first place. Everyone has a thing or two from the past they want to keep buried, so what gives this woman the right to go and uncover those things and stir up trouble?

“Killian, I don’t know how to tell you this. Maybe we should go inside so you can sit down for this?” she suggests, glancing up at him.

“I’m fine right here. Just tell me,” he says, agitation lacing his words. He doesn’t like to be interrupted during his practice, to be messed with, and Regina has a really bad habit of doing that.

“Alright fine, I’ll be up front with you then. Emma Swan is not who you think she is.”

Anger bubbles under his skin. This woman had the audacity to go and dig up information on his wife? “Bloody hell, Regina, I don’t wanna hear this.”

“Oh believe me, you need to know this. The woman is playing you.”

Killian’s already heard enough. He turns around, sliding his club into his bag. “I don’t believe this. I’m finally happy, and you have to go and try to spoil it for me. I’m leaving.” He picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Wait, please Killian,” she begs, and he can sense the concern and urgency in her voice, but he doesn’t want to hear about it.

“If you had concerns about her, you should’ve come talk to me, not go behind my back and—”

“I know, but I didn’t. Instead I do what I do best. I panicked and had to find out more information. I’m sorry Killian, but none of that changes the fact that Miss Swan is a gold digger and Miss Byrd is not an interior decorator. Her real name is Milah Raven, and she's going to try and get you to have an affair. It’s all part of their scheme. They’re only trying to screw you over so they can run off with your money.”

“Just stop,” he begs sharply. “I’ve heard enough. How can you just waltz over to me and accuse my wife of such things?”

“Because I care about you. And I can prove to you that Miss Swan and Miss Raven have done this many times before.”

He scoffs and looks her dead in the eye as he steps close to her with a threatening glare, speaking in a more quiet volume. “You don’t give a bloody damn about me. All you care about is your precious country club. Whatever you think you have on her, I want you to burn, or I will never come back to this place ever again, you got it?” he demands, his eyes clouding with rage.

Regina nods, swallowing thickly. “Got it.”

With that, he turns and walks away, angry and irritated and wanting to get into his vehicle and drive away as fast as he possibly can.

Back at home, he can’t stop thinking about what Regina has told him. He peers down at his wedding ring, moving it around his finger. Is it possible Emma has been playing him this whole time?

No, it can’t be true. His amazing Swan would never do that.

Or would she?

When he'd first met her, she wouldn't even go on a date with him. A month later, she's agreed to marry him? There's falling fast and hard for someone, but this was too fast, wasn't it?

No, he refuses to believe his lovely Swan is anything other than who he knows her to be. Regina has all of her facts wrong.

Killian guzzles down a bottle of water and goes upstairs, charging his phone which is only at five percent. He and Emma had engaged in some incredible morning lovemaking before she’d left, and he’d forgotten his phone battery was almost dead. Once his phone is connected to the charger, he takes a refreshing shower to rid the sweat from his skin after being out in the heat.

As the hot water cascades over him, his wife floods his thoughts, and he looks forward to her coming home in the evening after she's packed some more of her things to bring over. He’d asked if he could help with anything, but she’d refused. Come to think of it, every time he’s asked about going over to her house, she always supplies him with an excuse, saying her apartment is messy or that she prefers being at his place. Now Regina has him thinking she’s living with this Milah person she had mentioned, but Killian refuses to let her words get inside his head.

After his shower, he goes downstairs, catching the PGA at the Quicken Loans National on the telly when he hears a knock on the door. Turning off the game, he stands from his comfortable spot on the sofa, wondering who could be at the door. He knows it's not Emma because for one, she’s at work, and two, he's told her several times she doesn't have to knock when she comes over. They're married now, and she’s got a key, so why would she?

He answers the door, seeing Trixy on the doorstep holding up a bottle of champagne. She’s also wearing a long sleeved blouse with her skirt, and he can’t believe she’s not too warm in this heat. It’s over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit outside.

“Howdy!” she greats brightly.

He scratches behind his ear, not recalling ever setting up an appointment with her today. “Oh uh, hi, Trixy. I wasn't expecting you...”

Her mouth falls open a bit, and she lowers the bottle appearing to feel bad about dropping by. “Oh, didn't Emma tell you I was stopping by to show you some samples? She wanted you to decide which design to go with.”

Killian shakes his head. “No, she must have forgot.”

Trixy makes a gesture with her hand, waving off his words. “Well that's not a problem, I can come back another time. Sorry for botherin’ you,” she says, her words full of regret as she starts to turn around.

“No, that's okay. Please come in.” He steps aside, allowing her to come into his home.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

“Please, call me Killian.”

Trixy smiles at that. “Alright. Thank you, Killian. And congratulations on getting married. Mrs. Jones told me over the phone. I brought you both a wedding gift.” She holds up the bottle of champagne again.

“Thank you, lass, and actually it’s Mrs. Swan-Jones, but you can call her Emma.”

Trixy flashes a coy grin. “Will do.”

$*$*$

Emma arrives at the apartment, carrying a bag of takeout from TooJay’s.

“Milah, I brought food!” She sets the bag on the table and heads for her sister’s bedroom. “I really want to thank you for being understanding.” She reaches Milah’s room, opening the door. “I never planned on falling for—” Emma’s words die in her throat when she steps inside, finding the room empty. “Milah?”

She leaves the bedroom and searches the rest of the apartment, including the balcony, but Milah’s nowhere to be seen. Her features fall, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Where the hell did she go?

Emma came home just after two, like she'd promised.

Maybe Milah went to the gym or to treat herself to a Swedish massage or Sanctuary Jewel facial spa. If so, why the hell didn't Milah invite her to go with?

Emma walks over to the table and opens the bag, deciding she's too hungry to wait for Milah’s return. She removes her sandwich and picks up the bag to put Milah’s food in the refrigerator, but when she drags it from the table, a piece of paper slides off the surface, falling to the floor. Lifting a brow, Emma kneels down to pick it up and rises, turning the slip of paper over to see what it is.

Her eyes instantly widen, face draining of blood when she reads Milah’s writing.

Sorry sis. I have to finish the con. This is for your own good, so don't be mad. You’ll thank me later, trust me. You know where to find me.

Love, Mi

“Son of a bitch!”

$*$*$

Killian takes the bottle and makes his way to the kitchen, Trixy following behind him. “So I have to ask, how are you not burning up in long sleeves. I don’t care if you used to live in the dessert—it’s bloody hot outside,” he comments casually as they enter the kitchen.

“Oh well, I put this on before I knew it was so hot,” she tells him with a laugh. Trixy starts to unbutton her blouse, but Killian reaches out, placing a hand on her arm to stop her. “Whoa, lass, what are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just cooling off a little. I shouldn’t have worn long sleeves,” she says, unfastening the first few buttons of her blouse. “The air conditioning in here feels nice, but the heat outside had me sweatin’ like a pregnant nun in church.” With the fourth button undone, Trixy reveals a little too much of her cleavage, so he averts his eyes from her and puts the champagne away. “Anywho,” Trixy begins, clearing her throat and getting down to business, “I've brought some sketches of different décor styles for you to look at.” Her eyes wander the room, spotting the kitchen table.

“Aye, you can lay them out on the table," Killian says, pointing towards it and they make their way over.

Offering a grin, Trixy takes out the first design from her black leather work bag, placing it on the surface. She sweeps her dark hair to one side, leaning over the table.

Killian is only interested in the work she is doing, but he can’t help but notice her cleavage is being presented to him, and he starts to think about what Regina had said to him. He wonders if maybe she was right and if this is all a part of Emma’s and Milah’s ploy.

Is this woman’s name actually Milah?

No, he refuses to believe that. He refuses to believe his beautiful Swan would lie to him.

“This one is a contemporary style.” The sketch is for the main room as she describes the features. “It gives the room more of a family feel, but it’s still simple and opens up the space without having too much of it.” The room is full of neutral colors, ranging from beige to brown, a wooden floor and a large area rug and sofa pillows with curvy lines and shapes.

$*$*$

“Dammit!”

Emma hangs up the phone after her third attempt at calling Killian. She throws her phone in the passenger seat with a huff, wondering why he’s not answering.

Keeping her eyes on the road, she’s seeing red as she drives faster than she has ever driven in her entire life. She's so stricken with fear and anger her knuckles are turning white as she grips the steering wheel. She shouldn't be worried. She knows Killian won't cheat on her; she has faith. She's more angry at Milah than she’s afraid of Killian having an affair.

Emma waits at another goddamn red light, her patience wearing extremely thin. She’s still clutching to the steering wheel like it's a lifesource, hoping she can make it before Milah tries anything.

How can her own fucking sister do this to her?!”

Looking at the clock, she tries to steady her breathing, knowing she should be at Killian’s in ten minutes.

The light turns green and Emma presses on the gas pedal, peeling out so fast she's sure to be there much sooner.

$*$*$

Trixy takes out the second design, placing it next to the other one. “This next one I think will fit the home you’ve invested here by the ocean, but it doesn't have as much of a family feel. It’s more of a coastal style or what we also refer to as the Hampton's style.” The sample is also for the living room and includes blacks and whites paired with blues and greens. The furnishings include a sleek, black and white sectional sofa, a simple, black coffee table and fireplace with a dark green rug, and blue and white striped patterns for pillows. “The room contains elements of wood, and the accessories are inspired by the sea to create a relaxed, comfortable environment for your family. So what are your thoughts?” Her words pull his eyes up from the samples and he looks up to see her smiling at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Hmm.” Killian nods, scanning the designs, and running a hand along his stubbled jaw. “They’re both brilliant, and I think each of the designs are stunning in their own way. I do like the idea of the family design, although I’m leaning more towards the coastal design for obvious reasons,” he chuckles. “But I want to go with what fits more with my wife’s style.”

Trixy nods in understanding, pursing her lips in thought. “You really love her don’t you?”

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have married her.”

“Of course.” She stares into his eyes, speaking softly. “It’s really a shame though.”

“Why do you say that?” He swallows thickly, praying to the gods above that Regina was not right.

“Because another great guy is off the market. Emma’s a very lucky gal to have snagged a man like you, Mr. Jones,” she says sincerely, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

He looks down at the gesture and lifts a brow, unsure of how to respond to that.

Trixy’s eyes widen when she realizes what she’s done, and she quickly removes her hand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright, lass,” he assures, seeing the red in her cheeks; he knows the gesture was unintentional and that she’s embarrassed about it. “And I told you, it’s Killian.”

“I'm sorry,” she repeats sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting her bottom lip, looking away. “Anyway, I agree with your choice, and yes, you also have to be considerate of what Emma will like, too. This shall be a couple’s decision, so I’ll tell you what, even though Emma trusts your judgment, I think I should come back when both of ya’ll are here to decide together.”

She leans over the table and picks up her samples a little too quickly. When she spins around, the sketches fall from her hands, one sliding away from her. “Oh mah, I’m such a clodhopper!” She bends over, trying to kneel down to pick up the one within her reach, but her skirt is too tight and she ends up falling to her hands and knees to gather up the sample. If he were any less of a gentleman he probably would’ve looked as the fabric rode up her arse, but he is only interested in his wife.

“It’s not a problem, Trixy.” He bends down to help her pick up the other sketch as she apologizes profusely.

“Oh lordy,” she grumbles as he rises and returns to her, extending his hand. She takes it, using him as an anchor to stand up. “Thank you so much, Killian.”

“It's not a problem,” he assures, noticing she’s still clutching onto his hand.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Her eyes meet his and he can hear the hitch in her breath. This whole time he’s tried to convince himself that her touches were accidental. Now he’s starting to see that everything she has done since she's arrived, and even during their first meeting when she'd tried to rub his crotch, has been intentional. “Well, I should get goin’ now.”

Killian peels his eyes away and peers down at their joined hands. She takes the hint and starts to release her grip, but when she does, he can’t help but notice the sleeve of her blouse slipping past her wrist, part of a tattoo peeking out. He tugs the cuff away from her wrist to get a better look.

It's just as he suspects—a raven tattoo.

“Killian!” he hears Emma call from the front door, but before he can process what is actually happening, Trixy is launching herself at him and smashing her lips into his.

He quickly pushes Trix—Milah (or whoever the bloody hell she really is) away from him, anger burning inside of him as he rips himself from the thralls of her arms.

“How could you do this to me?!”

He turns his head to catch Emma witnessing the entire scene, complete devastation in her features.

“Oh Mrs. Jones, I'm so sorry,” Milah says in her fake Texan drawl.

Killian tightens his jaw, eyes fleeting between these two vixens who have set him up. He is heated. “Oh please, spare me the act. I know this is all part your scheme,” he snaps at both of them.

“I wasn't talking to you,” Emma says to him and steps up to the other woman. “I told you the con was over, but you didn't listen to me!” she hollers at the brunette, a ferocious storm brewing in her emerald depths. “I trusted you!”

Killian is completely baffled as he glances between them. Why is Emma angry at Milah if this was all a set up?

“And I trusted you to make this work, but you failed!” Milah shouts back at her, just as furious and no longer using the fake accent.

“I told you I can't help how I feel, but you put the con before your own sister! You're nothing but a selfish—”

“Excuse me,” he cuts her off briskly. “I don't mean to interrupt this sisterly squabble, but what the devil is going on?!” he demands, breaking up their feud.

Emma looks at him, regret and tears swarming her eyes. “I'm sorry, Killian. I wanted to stop it, but she went behind my back.” Emma points at her sister accusingly, and she's about to say something else, but her eyes blow wide in realization, and she glances back at Killian. “Wait, how did you know?”

“Regina told me,” he snarls and sets his death glare on the brunette.

Emma closes her eyes, breathing out, “Regina,” through clenched teeth.

“And I didn't want to believe her, but she said your name was Milah Raven, then I saw that the tattoo on your wrist is a raven, and it's on the same spot where Emma has a tattoo of a swan. Plus, you tried to kiss me when Emma bursted inside, so it wasn’t difficult to put the bloody pieces together,” he mutters spitefully.

“Killian, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to go through with it, but Milah wouldn't listen.” Emma tries to approach him and touch his shoulder, but he backs away. “Killian, you have to believe me.”

That's when he explodes with the rage he feels inside. “You lied to me and tricked me into marrying you! Why the fuck would I believe you?!’

“Because my feelings for you are real!” she tries to reassure him in a pleading voice, her words cracking as tears slide down her cheeks.

He looks at her with a steely glare. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yes, you do, Killian! My name is Emma Swan, I used to be an orphan like you and I work at Marco’s Italian Tuxedos. I've been more real with you than any other man I've ever met!”

“No, to me you're nothing but a gold-diggin’ charlatan.”

She swallows audibly, her lips trembling and another tear escaping her eyes. “Not anymore,” she vows, but Killian can’t listen to another word.

His heart is shattered into a million pieces, anger and rage replacing the love he’d held for her. She is not the beautiful Swan he thought he knew. “I want you both out of my home,” he speaks quietly, but his words are just as deadly.

Milah doesn't hesitate, and grabs her bag, storming out quietly, but Emma stays, trying to convince him she actually loves him.

“Killian, please, I'm so sorry.” More tears are streaming down her face, and he can't help but still see her as his wife who's in pain, but he has to stay strong.

“I said leave,” he tells her again, pointing towards the door, as much as it hurts. “I don't ever want to see you again.”

“But we’re married,” she chokes out, the fear of losing him evident in her voice, but he couldn't care less. She’s hurt him badly and he can’t find it within him to have sympathy for her.

Killian’s eyes darken as he stares into hers, wondering how she could do this to him? How could someone be so cruel? “Our wedding was a sham,” Killian states, his words heavy with the hurt and pain he feels. He storms past her, rushing to the front door and yanking it open, his voice growing louder and harsher as she follows behind him. “Now get the fuck out!”

His booming voice makes her jump, but she complies, her head down as she makes her way towards the entrance, sniffling and wiping her tears. She digs into her purse and grabs her keys, taking off the one for the cabin and holds it up for him. He snatches it from her grasp as she looks up at him one last time before she goes. “I'm truly sorry, Killian,” she whispers softly.

“You can get your belongings later when I'm not here,” he says flatly. “I'll have someone here to let you in. But don't be surprised if your things are floating in the ocean when you come back.”

Emma simply nods and proceeds sluggishly out onto the porch. She walks down the steps and heads towards her car, looking back at him once more, eyes red and puffy and cheeks stained with tears. She enters her car as he steps inside, flinging the door shut, his heart aching and his breathing crippled, emotions washing over him like a tidal wave.

He can't believe in one day his world has completely crumbled apart between his fingertips. He can't believe the love of his life was never really his love at all. The entire thing was a bloody joke. He feels like such a bloody fool; he should've just listened to Regina. He should've never rolled the dice on Emma.

He should've never followed his heart in the first place.

A/N: Okay, you can throw things at me now

Tagging: @mayquita @freakassbuthunter @libbcoxnet-blog @goldengirlschildhood @courtorderedcake @florenzu @marcella2727 @veryverynotgood @i-would-cross-realms-4-her @hooklineandswan @wonderfullycarriedaway @0swald-c0bblep0t @cs-forlife @andiirivera @snotelek @capswantrue @nikkiemms @capswantrue @swansong12 @lg-campbell @lassluna @followbatb @harshini01 @betchesgetshitdone @coliferoncer @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke @kinkyhiddlesgirl @teamhook

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs heartbreakers au #cssb #captain swan #cs smut #to play the game (and win your heart)#my fic

40 notes · View notes

latinegro · 5 years

Text

Sketchy

I am a brilliant asshole and not in a good way. I’m always putting myself in a situation that sounds great at first, but as it happens, it’s not so great at all.

I put the pencil on the paper and I begin to outline the basic layout of my model. Myra is laying on the couch in front of me. It’s old couch too, she’s probably the best thing that has happened on that couch in years.

She posed herself in a particular way so that the contours of her curves can be accentuated. I nervously erase the first mistake I make. It’s been a very long time since I’ve drawn a nude model. I’m acting like I’ve never sketched a naked woman before, it’s really not that hard. But, this is absolutely the first time I’ve drawn a woman that I’m acquainted with. It doesn’t help that I find her to be one of the sexiest women I know.

I can feel my heart racing because I know what I’m doing is wrong. I know that I shouldn’t be doing this but an opportunity presented itself and I had to take it. It does sound selfish but in a way, it really isn’t. First of all, the artist in me will not allow me to call this whole thing off. Secondly, I try to tell myself that she’s not a hot woman that I have been attracted to for a while but rather a future portrait for a client. I take a few deep breaths so I can maintain my concentration. Nervousness will only lead to a shaky hand and that’s not good for any sketch.

But, of course, I had to open my big mouth. I’m a writer at heart and by trade. I can describe what she looks like the best way I can use words and adjectives not with this damn pencil that I’m pretending was my hand going down those beautiful thick brown legs of hers. The thing is, I used to draw fairly regularly. I was one of those kids that would be so annoyingly good at drawing anything that I felt I didn’t need those pretentious art classes. I could freehand any comic book cover I see. I could draw anything or anyone if they were standing in front of me. My only weakness was I could never draw anything as I good as I wanted to from memory. My measurements were always wrong, at least that was what I was told.

At the end of the day it wasn’t big deal to me because no matter how good I was at drawing, my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t love it like other people love it and that’s probably why I didn’t take it as seriously. I felt much more at ease using words to describe anything. I can perfectly describe how beautiful Myra is. She’s like a brown-skinned Athena from Themyscira that Wonder Woman would never talk about. Myra is the reason some would believe that God exists. When scientists talk about how we’re all made from stardust, they had Myra in mind.

I need to focus.

I have the basic shell of her body that fits perfectly on my old couch that should seat three people comfortably. Her black curly hair may be a problem for me. Myra chooses to wear it natural which makes her even more attractive but if I don’t shade it correctly this whole drawing would look like a caricature. But, alas, her big brown eyes look past me. She stares off into space truly hoping that I’m capturing this moment and indeed I am catching this very moment of her looking past me. I will consider that to be my fault. I may be good with writing words but actually speaking them to women is another thing entirely.

I met Myra first but I lacked the basic courage to kick it to her. We ended up being a little less than friends but more than just passing acquaintances. Of course, when Jules met her it was all downhill from there. I was always happy for them but mad at myself. Jules is a decent guy and when they first got together, all they did was fuck. Yes, I know that is normal because if it were me, I would hope that she would break me every damn day.

Another mistake. I may need a better eraser.

I get up and she asks, “Everything OK?”

“Sure, I just have to get another eraser,” I answer. She shrugs her bare shoulders as I walk to the desk and open the drawer. Jules is the real artist in all this. He’s one half of the team behind the independent Black comic book, The Insiders. We met at the NY Comic Con years ago and Jules and I became fast friends. Through the years we created our own comic book universe that has a plethora of characters. The excitement for this project is palpable because we’re building something important. In our universe, there are no meaningless black characters created for the sole purpose of being sidekicks. Together we’ve molded superheroes that matter; superheroes that look like us. There is a true meaning behind every page and we’re ready to take the industry by storm.

Jules has tons of different art supplies in this desk that it’s hard to keep track of all of it. But, at least I know where the erasers are. He stores most of his art supplies in my apartment since it has become our default workspace. It’s just easier this way since both of our day jobs make it hard to be the creators we are. We need a place to work and bounce our ideas off of each other. I pick one a small eraser and close the drawer. Before I walk away from the desk, my eyes focus on one of the sketches he was working on from issue #3. One thing about working with friends is, at times, it’s hard to come to a real agreement on the philosophy of a particular story. I really don’t think that the splash on page 11 is necessary but clearly, he’s working on it anyway.

I walk back to my chair and I smile at Myra before I sit down. I grab my pad and I keep going. My eyes scan slowly scan her from left to right. She’s laying on her right side with her right arm holding up her head and her left arm resting on her hip. Her breasts are a perfect size. They don’t sag at all and her tummy is a result of a lot of gym work. No visible stretch marks and no tattoos. This makes this sketch easier than what I originally anticipated.

I draw carefully. My pencil tries to mimic everything that my eyes absorb. I cannot believe that Julius’ wife is laying on this couch modeling for me. She wants this to be a present for him on their upcoming anniversary. Has it been two years already? It must be. That’s was around the time we decided to build this whole comic book company together. He’s the artist and I’m the writer. Now, look at me, doing a sketch that I may be getting more pleasure from than she is. Granted, this probably a bad idea, but how can I deny her this. I tried to convince her that perhaps it would be a better idea to dress up as a sexy gender bender of Grand Admiral Thrawn and I would make sure to get the colors right. She denied that, but I can, at least, convince myself that I tried to get her to wear the most clothes as possible.

I scan her navel trying to make sure that I can get the correct dimensions and diameter of the belly button ring. It looks like a small little pendant that sparkles from the light coming from the ceiling fan above. I scan further past her navel toward her vagina. Her legs are slightly crossed with her left leg slightly bent downward covering her right. It casts a shadow from the light.

My pencil breaks. Shit, was I pressing down that hard? She chuckles, “Having trouble?”

“Not at all,” I reply as I grab the extra pencil next to me. I want to try to be as emotionless as possible. Mentally I’m shaking my head. How did you get into this Zander? I will tell you how; I was cocky. I thought that I could talk enough shit in hopes to just flirt a little and now... my partner’s wife is my living room, nude.

Did I mention I was a brilliant asshole and not in a good way?

I remember staying over their townhouse in Brooklyn one night and while I have wondered what is that she does that allows her to own such a place, that was the night I got a glance of how skillful she was.

It was a late night of partying and they offered me a room to crash. I was so drunk that night that I just passed out as soon as I hit the bed. It must of been an hour or two later when I really had to use the bathroom. I got up and there was a long hallway that I had to navigate despite my lightheadedness. As I begin to walk down the general direction of what I thought was the bathroom, I hear noises. I slowly passed the room where it coming from and that is when I catch a glimpse of her reverse cowgirl riding Jules in a way that made me realize that twerking needs to a sport. I tried not to voyeur too long and thank God I had to piss, but all I remember was my heart beating so much that I felt it in my dick.

I need to continue on her legs and feet. I really do hate drawing feet. I can never get the right angle. I need to take my time and make sure the curvatures are correct. Shadowing will also be a problem. The lighting is pretty decent in here but I will need to at least need to define her curves with some type of shadow.

I can’t even imagine actually inking this. The good thing is that I can scan this into the computer and work on all the coloring there. I assume she wants it colored. Actually, I never asked. “Did you want this sketch in color?” I do my best to look at her eyes when I converse with her.

“Hm, You know, I think that would be a nice touch. Sure, if you can do it. But I will take one in black and white, just in case,” Myra chuckles a bit. I think she knows that coloring may be a tad difficult for me. Not only do I have to make sure that I color inside the lines, but how do I get her exact skin tone?

Then it hits me. I put the pencil down and I look at her. “So, I have an idea and it’s totally ok if you’re not willing to do it.”

“What would that be?”

I’m nervous to even suggest it. “You know what? Never mind. It’s a dumb idea. I don’t even know why I would even think of such a thing.”

“Just tell me.”

I take a deep breath, “Ok so, I want to get the shade of color just right and once I scan this in into the laptop I will need to..”

Myra laughs, “Zander, just spit it out.”

“I need to take a picture of you so that I can match your skin tone with the RGB color code.” I look down at my unfinished sketch as soon as I said it.

“You sly little devil!” Myra sits up and looks at me with a surprised look on her face as if she caught me red handed.

“What do you mean?” I ask

“Why the fuck you lyin?” She asks in a sing-songy manner. “You just want a nude picture of me!” I honestly can’t tell if she’s being serious or not, but she’s absolutely telling the truth. See how much of a brilliant bastard I am? This is how I get myself into trouble and once again I feel my heart coming through my dick.

“I mean, I would delete it as soon as I got the color correct.” Which is a lie.

“I don’t know about that. In all honesty, you can just take pictures of me with my clothes on and then screen-grab the color.” She was totally right about that. I hadn’t thought about it. Then she continues, “The reason why I am asking you to do this sketch is because I do trust you. That is why I never said anything to Jules when I saw you peeping into our room that night.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask nervously. I was never sure if she actually saw me and I assumed that since no one said anything that perhaps we were all just drunk. Of course, I cannot forget that after I went to the bathroom I returned to continue my voyeurism. Shit.

Myra gives me a smirk, “Please, do not insult my intelligence. I know you’ve seen me naked before and I am quite comfortable with my body. So I will save you more embarrassment by saying that I do want this drawing to come out correctly. So I will allow you to take a picture but I want you to delete the picture in front of me.”

I pull out my iPhone from my pocket and ask her to return to her original pose. Myra is right about this but I don’t care right now. Even if I delete all the photos from my device and the cloud, I will still have her body burned into my brain. If not, there is always the original copy of this sketch… for portfolio purposes of course. I take a few pictures with and without the flash.

Myra smiles and asks, “How many photos do you plan on taking?” I want to explain lighting and such but then she cuts me off, “I hope you have enough space on the cloud for all of these.”

I freeze, “Um…”

“I am not stupid, Zander. I fully expect you to find a way to try to keep pictures of me. Just know that…”

Bang. Bang.

We both look up. There’s a knock on the door. I look at Myra as she gets up quickly and covers herself with a robe I gave her.

“Who is it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s Jules. Dude, let me in. We need to talk…about everything.”

Shit. I put my face in my palm. This could be four years and three issues down the drain.

#smut

2 notes · View notes

velvet-roads · 6 years

Text

Like A Virgin: Chapter 15

Chapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5: Chapter 6: Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Chapter 9: Chapter 10: Chapter 11: Chapter 12: Chapter 13: Chapter 14:

Music: Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer and Black Velvet by Alanna’s Myles

Warnings: Sexual frustration

Word count: 3206

After several drinks and a lot of sitting, you felt the wine a bit more when he pulled you up. You could drink whiskey like a champ but wine was a different ball game, you weren't used to it. A series of drunk giggles escaped your lips as Crowley put his arm around you to steady you. You looked up at him smiling softly, slipping your arms around his neck and you just stared at each other for a few moments. Please kiss me, you thought. To your surprise he snapped his fingers and a new type of music began to filter through the room.

It was “Hold Me” by Fleetwood Mac. You threw your head back and let out a laugh that came straight from your toes. He stole the song from the novel that you had been reading, it was one of the characters “get lucky” songs. When you had finally regained your composure you almost had tears in your eyes.

“Really? Taking notes?” You asked, still laughing a little. He looked at you actually laughing himself.

“It worked for Nick.” He said with a shrug. He kissed the top of your head again and whispered “I love your laugh” on to your skin. With another snap of his fingers a new, slower song came on. You recognized it immediately. It was “Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran who was one of your favorite artists. He grabbed your right hand from around his neck with his left and kept his other hand firm on your waist and he danced with you.

“How did you know I like this artist?” You asked suspiciously.

“I took a guess.” He said. You knew he was lying. You decided to let it slip and just enjoy dancing with him, but you were still thinking about how he knew. Then all of a sudden it hit you.

“You were watching me the night I made the bullets. That was you I felt.” You said looking at him with narrowed eyes and a smile.

“Guilty.” He said shrugging his shoulders and smiling. “I have never seen some one so happy over something so simple.” He said with genuine wonderment.

“I love music.” You said with a shrug of just your left shoulder. Then you realized something. If he was watching you when you were singing to Ed he had to have seen you dance.

“Oh my God.” You said taking your hands away from him and burying your face in them to hide the embarrassment. “You saw me dance didn’t you?” You asked, the question was muffled from your hands but he heard you. Crowley let out an endearing laugh and pulled your hands away from your face.

“Yes, I saw you. That was actually one of the reasons I brought you out here. Watching you dance around to a Celtic song gave me the idea.” You put another hand back up to your face and shook your head.

“Well I am glad that you enjoyed the show.” You said looking up at him. Your face was sheer humiliation, a wonderful shade of scarlet.

“No need to be embarrassed, love.” He said chuckling. Your cheeks burned hot and red and what he did next made the rest of you quiver. He kiss the top of your head like usual, then he kissed each one of your red cheeks and then he rested his nose against yours. “Slow Dancing in a Burning Room” by John Mayer came on as he began to dance with you again; his face resting against yours.

You were surprised that he hadn't kissed you yet. He defiantly was a gentleman. Him being so considerate of you only made you want him more. You could feel the heat and your desire for him building and building, your heart was going to burst out of your chest. He was so close.

“Crowley?” You asked breathlessly.

“Yes?” He responded in kind. He sounded like he was just as breathless as you. You pulled your face away from him and looked him in the eyes. Staring at him in you took a couple of shallow breaths.

“Kiss me.” The desperation that came out in your voice made you shiver. Before you even had time to think, he placed his hand on the side of your face and pulled you to him. His lips were soft and slow. You both tasted of wine and if possible, feeling his lips softly move in time with yours was more intoxication than the alcohol. You smiled against his lips at how gentle and sweet he was being. As his bottom lip moved against yours again you lightly bit it. At the contact he let out a low growl and the kiss immediately went from slow and sweet to rough and full of passion. He tangle is hands in your hair as you grabbed a fist full of his sweater.

Needing a moment to come up for air, you broke the kiss. You pressed your forehead against his chest, breathing heavily you never let go of his sweater.

“Fireworks?” He asked cockily in between breaths. You pulled back and looked at him and let out a small chuckle.

“Yes, that defiantly wasn’t nerves.” You said loosening your grip on his clothes. He pulled you in close to him again and held you, slowly moving back and forth to the music. You never wanted the moment to end but you knew it was going to have to. Him being the King of Hell and you bing a hunter, you couldn't stay hidden with him forever.

You pulled away and your body grew cold, missing the heat he had provided while holding you. Walking over to a bookshelf you decided to look for something to distract you from the wonderful and sexy man that had just given you the best kiss of your life. He stared at you slightly confused.

“What is it?” He asked walking towards you. You turned to meet his stare. Your eyes were now fading from passion and happiness to worry and a little sadness.

“You know this is going to end badly don’t you?” You asked, pulling your eyebrows together in worry. “I am a hunter and you are the King of Hell. I should be trying to kill you not be kissing you. Others are not going to be as understanding as the boys.” You said with seriousness. He cupped your cheek with his hand and rubbed small circles into your jaw.

“Y/N, between the boys and I nothing will happen too you.” You nuzzled into his hand when he said your name. That was the first time that he had ever said it, he usually just called you love.

“What about you? I don't want to be the thing that makes you weak. I have seen how people have used the boys against each other.” You said looking down. You were scared when you had thought that the dragons may have killed him. The thought of it actually happening was almost too much to try to process.

“I have been around for a long time and after working my way up the ranks and becoming the King of Hell I didn’t have a purpose any more. Hell pretty much runs its self. You give me a reason to fight.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as you looked at him. A small tear began to form on your eye.

“Yeah but I don’t want to be the reason you get killed.” You said as the tear slid down your cheek. He rubbed the tear away with his thumb and his eyes roamed your face taking in all of your features.

“After the dragons at the cemetery I realized that I had gotten complacent. They won't be the last to try to kill me and my kind. Helping you and stooges hunt down the alpha is what I told you I would do. Being able to be with you is a great bonus.” He smiled at the thought of getting to spend more time with you and no doubt irritating the boys more. You were somewhat surprised that he planned on finishing the hunt. You figured after the last time he would have bailed.

“So you are planning on becoming a hunter?” You said raising your brow and smiling up at him. You were actually thrilled with the idea of you guys being a team again.

“Temporarily.” He said smirking at you.

“You know that someone will try to use me as a bargaining chip against you if we continue this.” Your tone was soft again and weighed down with worry. He pulled you in close again and rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“That goes both ways, love.” He said into your hair as he kissed the top of your head. You pulled back to look at him.

“You are ok with having a weakness?” You asked in a serious tone. You knew that he was a man of pride. The answer you got surprised you. You didn't expect him to be so honest.

“Truthfully, no. I did everything I could to remind myself that you were just a human. Alas, here we are.” He said taking your hand and walking you out of the library. A smile caressed your lips because you had actually tried to do the same thing. You didn't want to like him as much as you did and you tried to tell yourself not too but it had all been in vain; you were completely smitten with the demon.

“You know that was the first time I had ever heard you said my name a few minutes ago.” You said lacing your fingers with his as you walked to the warm empty house. “Coming from your mouth it sounds nice.” You said giving his hand a squeeze.

“Really? Then allow me to indulge you again.” He quickly spun you so your back was pinned up against the wall of the hallway. He bent down and kissed you again. The kiss started out passionate and full of heat. He softly licked your bottom lip and you couldn't hold back the moan at the feeling, it made your body tingle. He took advantage of the slight opening of your mouth as the sound escaped and gently inserted his tongue. You gave in willingly wapping your arms around his neck and running a hand through his hair. He held you by the waist pulling you closer, like it wasn’t enough. You continued to kiss him, both your tongues now fighting for dominance. Things were getting very hot and heated as he placed his hand up the hem of your shirt and you felt his large warm hands on you waist. You wanted him so much. In your head you virginity went from intact to pretty much non existent.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts on how much you want him he pressed his body hard against you, pinning you to the wall with his weight. You could feel him against you, all of him. He bent his head down right next to your ear. You could feel his hot breath and you gripped his sweater again tightly.

“Y/N.” He whispered in your ear. He had you, in that moment you would have done anything he asked. Before you could throw your caution to the wind he lifted himself off of you and continued to walk down the hall. When you opened your eyes he was several feet away.

You leaned against the wall trying to put your brain back into working order. Sleeping with him has just become thing number one on my bucket list, you told yourself.

Following after him you grabbed his arm and jerked him back to look at you. Him getting off of you so quickly you thought that he would have a look of irritation or frustration but that was not the case. On his face was plastered the biggest shit eating grin.

“What the hell was that!?” You said pointing back to the wall wide eyed. He licked his upper lip and looked at you with hungry eyes. Damn he was sexy.

“I told you I would indulge in saying your name again, I didn't tell you how.” He winked at you as you stood there with you mouth open. The man was defiantly a world class flirt but wow.... You glowered at him in all of your sexual frustration.

“Pay backs a bitch, your highness.” You said as you both walked into the kitchen . This was going to be all too much fun messing with him. He turned on the tea kettle on the gas stove and pulled down two tea cups and saucers from the cabinet. Turning around, he walked over to you. Taking you in his arms he leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“Promise?” He said pulling back and winking at you yet again.

You decided that two could play at this game. You stalked up to him, licked your bottom lip and looked him up and down. You reached up to grab a handful of his sweater pulling him down closet you. You pressed your body against him and kissed the corner of his mouth but quickly moved to the side of his face before his lips could capture yours. His hands were up the back of your shirt running along the lace of your brallet. You gently slid your left hand down his side as the right now held on to the back of his neck effectively keeping his ear right next to your lips. He could feel your breath on his ear and it was killing him. Instead of saying his name you slowly stuck your left hand under the hem of his sweater and just under the tops of his chinos. You gripped his hip bone and the same time you bit his earlobe. He let out a growl and placed both hands on your hips he pulled you back away from his ear to kiss you but before he could you turned out of his grasp and leaned against the island counter.

He looked at you stunned and lust filled. He walked over to wear you cockily rested on the counter.

“I think I may have underestimated you, love.” He huskily said looking down at you. After letting his eyes roam your face a bit more, he leaned in and kissed you. This kiss was a lot like the first one. It was slow and soft, which surprised you. After just a few seconds he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours.

You were both brought back to reality when you heard the whistle of the kettle. He poured the water into each one of the cups, and into an extra kraft. He grabbed box off the counter and set it on a silver tray. He added the rest of the tea necessities to the tray as well. Picking up the handles he looked at you and said

“Shall we?” You followed him through the house and upstairs. He walked the tray and you out to the balcony. There was a chill in the air and you started to shiver. There was a small fire place built into the wall and with a snap of his fingers the fire was lit and there was a soft animal skin rug in front of it. You plopped down on the rug and snuggled close to the fire. The heat licked your skin and your shivers ceased.

Crowley set the tray down on the grown next to the rug and handed you the box. When you lifted the lid there was an assortment of gourmet teas from all over the world. You decided on a honey vanilla herbal tea. You watched as the water slowly swarmed with colors, changing the liquid from clear to an amber color. Crowley kissed your temple a you looked out over the water. It would not be hard to fall in love with him.

The two of you sat together and sipped on tea and talked about every topic under the sun. The stars had been shining brightly for a while now. You repositioned your self on the balcony so that you could look up at them. The sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs and the crackle of the fire felt like a dream.

Crowley put his cup down and leaned against the wall next to the fireplace feeling the warmth on his arm. You turned to see him sitting there and you decided that you needed to join him. Crawling over you placed your self between his legs with you back to him. You rested your head on his chest and gazed back up at the stars.

Your body steadily fell with the rise and fall of his chest as he played with strands of your hair. You smiled and looked up at him. Not saying a word he leaned his head down and gave you a small soft kiss on the lips and then on your nose. You both turned back to the stars without a word. It was getting late and you were beginning to feel your self drift off.

“Crowley?” You asked sleepily as you snuggled in closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and blanketed you in his warmth.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly.

“Can we stay like this forever?” you said breathing out a slow breath, letting sleep take you.

“I would love nothing more, my little human.” He said kissing your hair. You smiled at him claiming you. Then you fell asleep. After a few minutes Crowley noticed that your breathing had gotten slower. Snapping his fingers he brought you both up to his chambers and he placed you on his bed.

Reaching over on the dresser he grabbed his cellphone and found Dean’s number. He sent your brothers a text message letting them know that you were completely safe but that you had fallen asleep. Neither of the boys were really happy about you not coming home but the demon didn't care about what they wanted. Turning the phone off so as not to be disturbed, he walked over to the side of the bed that he usually laid on and he laid down facing you.

Laying on his side he cupped your cheek and rubbed soft circles into your jaw. You sighed at the comfort you felt from his touch but you didn't wake. You stirred a little and when he looked at you he noticed that you had slight goose bumps on your neck. He scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you and you lead your head on his chest.

Thinking about all of the possible worst outcomes of your relationship, Crowley laid with you all night listening to you breath. He remembered telling you a couple of days before that no great love story can happen without some risk. In the morning that was what he was going to tell you, he wanted you to be his risk and possible his whole love story.

@gettinjoyful @li-ssu

@earinafae I just want to apologize for not tagging you! I am so sorry!

#supernatural #spnfamily #spn #fanfic #crowleyxreader #romance #crowley #velvetroads #like a virgin #kingofhell #winchester

25 notes · View notes

italicwatches · 6 years

Text

Comic Girls - Episode 01

Oh, fuck it. I was gonna watch this sooner or later, and while I have a lot of options on the board, I really want some craft anime right now, and I’ve got a good action/slice-of-life back and forth rhythm going too. So anyways let’s watch some girls make manga and probably have plausibly deniable romantic feelings towards each other. It’s Comic Girls, episode 01! Here we GO!

-We begin, at…A crosswalk, in Fukushima, on a quiet day. A small pink-haired moeblob sits in a car, being driven along, until a cherry blossom hits her cheek. She is very pink and very moeblob. …And then she learns that her latest manga submission did badly, when the editor gives her a call. How badly, you might ask?

-She’s bottom of the pack. The readers hate the art, the plot, the writing, and think the author can’t write high school girls worth jack shit. So our moeblob, having gotten dropped off from the car, just straight up collapses. Alas, poor Kaos-sensei, who cannot write high school girls despite being a high school girl.

-I’m not entirely sure how she ends up at the steps of a shrine, with a small army of stray cats coming to comfort her. The editor can tell this girl has potential, but god, she needs such thicker skin if she is ever going to survive…And there’s only one way to get her through a crucible without her cracking.

-Hard cut to some other girl getting a similar offer. Why yes, it’s an all-female manga artist dorm. This girl, a very free and loose blonde who…I think…Is she eating three parfaits at once? So suffice it to say she thinks this possibility over long and hashe’ll do it!

-Then we have two more girls…Who are also high school aged.

-Really.

-I just…Like, you’re putting them all in their own dorm. The entire point is they’re all working professionals, or trying to break into the industry. Considering I’ve seen about three different uniforms, I’m pretty sure we’re not going to spend any time actually going to anyone’s school.

-So what purpose does making them high schoolers serve at this point?! Ohhh my god just take me back to anime about working adults in an industry. New Game was total fluff but at least it wasn’t trying to have its schoolgirl cake and eat it too.

-Sorry, sorry, back to the show. These girls are further along the path, with one just getting serialized, and the other still deep in the grind by the sounds of it. Also they’re already tenants at the dorm.

-…So the moeblob’s a secret pervert.

-Okay that’s not entirely fair. We cut to Kaos that night, and she has tons of slightly ecchi heroine figurines in her room, and is getting all “mweeheehee” about being in an all-female manga artist dorm. Now let’s peer into her mental image of what it’ll be like! Yeah she could never survive in a stylish environment like that. Let’s try again the next morning! What if they’re all super intense serious artists? She’d crack there, too. But maybe they’re all a bunch of impassioned nerd rookies like her? A bunch of rookies all getting rejection letters every day would just be depressing.

-…Aaaand she just missed her train because she was lost in her own head. Alas, poor Kaos.

-And that’s how she ends up hauling her schoolbag, with her laptop in it, and her Rintiq tablet, down the road the old fashioned way. Wait, a Rintiq? Jesus, she has a totally-not-Cintiq? Did she just splurge All The Holiday Money, or do her parents believe in her dream that much? Like, shit, I thought I was super lucky when I got my entry-level DSLR at her age, and that was like half to a third of the price and was at a time when we were making money hand over fist.

-Oh and it’s at the top of a hill, too. Or perhaps I should say, she started at the bottom of several hills. But eventually, she makes it…And sees the landlady…And has a panic. Especially when she’s seen as a small tiny grade schooler and not the serious high school girl she insists she is. And the landlady just, isn’t, hearing it. …You know, I almost made a joke at the start about our moeblob not knowing how high school girls act because she was only in middle school.

-Also it turns out that the dorm is going to get a top-to-bottom remodeling in about a year, so there’s a timer. This iteration of the dorm isn’t long for this world something something high school experience cherry blossoms SYMBOLISM

-Anyways the blonde from before is Kaos’s new roommate and she gives zero fucks. And Kaos did not expect to be sharing her room with anyone. Meet Koyume, who has already gotten out the snacks and the paper and the pencils and really what else do you need? So Kaos’s real name is Moeta Kaoruko. …I’m sticking with Kaos. You need all the help to sound cool that you can get. Oh and Kaos gets all teary-eyed.

-“I’m sorry! Do you not like donuts?” Look if this kid doesn’t like donuts I am OUT.

-No she just doesn’t know how to handle being treated like a cute little moeblob. …How are you not used to it. Look at you. You’re 3 feet tall and your hair is pink with overly elaborate cross-pattern decorations in it. There’s no way.

-Eventually things calm down and we see the core problem Kaos is facing. In short, she lacks good anatomical studies. And if she tries to use her own body…Well, 3 foot tall moeblob. Great for bubbly comedy. Bad when you’re trying to draw a stylish, gorgeous high school girl, the kind of girl who could get scouted for a modeling job. She just ended up looking like a Mario Bros. movie goomba.

-Contrast Koyume’s problem, which is that she’s great at drawing cute girls, but terrible at drawing handsome boys. And she’s a shoujo romance artist. …So that’s not great. She just has no experience with guys to draw on… I mean, there’s an easy solution to that, Koyume. It’s called yuri and it’s the hottest new trend. You take a girl, and you have her fall in love… With a girl. (Or sometimes a bear.)

-But yeah both of them got pegged hard for their limitations by their editors, and so ended up here, and Kaos’s panic has Koyume panicking and soon they’re both just holding each other and sobbing. HEY! No crying in the dorm!

-Actually they meet the two senpais from before. And cling desperately to these two who Made It. So here’s Irokawa Ruki, the purple haired one who just got her porn serialized, and Katsuki Tsubasa, who has blue hair and is an intense shonen manga artist. Did I say porn? Yeah Ruki draws ecchi and freaks out about this tiny infant baby hearing such things. Kaos is not handling being treated like a mascot very well…Which is when Ruki gets ideas of what could be done putting the kid in a costume. Terrible, terrible ideas.

-Ignore her. So what has you two freaking out? Koyume got a debut and freaked out about not getting popular enough to survive…Stop, stop right there. The goal is not to be the best, or at the top of the charts. The goal is to get to keep drawing manga. You did well enough to debut. You have enough potential that your editor thought coming here was worth doing. Buckle down, work hard, and prove them right! The only way to achieve your ideal is to draw, draw, draw, with passion and fire! I knew there was a reason to like Tsubasa. And now, off they go.

-To their room, where Ruki is all trying to convince herself not to do things to that sweet innocent moeblob, and Tsubasa’s got inking to do. But she’s also really intrigued by firing up some rookies, even if they’re technically the same age.

-And soon that first night calms, and settles. Food is prepared, Kaos gets some time in the bath, and she’s left able to slowly process her doubts…Until the landlady reveals that the kitchen opens RIGHT to the bath so she can just summon everyone to food. Kaos has a panic.

-Episode 01: “I Got the Worst Results on the Survey!?”

-Okay, cut to time for bed! Koyume is gushy about Tsubasa being so strong and manly. Again, yuri. Kaos is already thinking of how Ruki seems like everything Kaos wants to be. Experienced, cool, stylish, curvy, attractive, makes her feel funny in her girl parts…(Wait, what was that last one? Stylish. Uh huh, sure thing.)

-Also they both get to thinking about what a real serialized pro’s room might look like…And that’s how they end up going over to see Ruki and Tsubasa’s workspace. It’s…Well, I mean, it’s a room. And Tsubasa is busy working to meet her deadlines, as Ruki gets ready to give one last push, putting her hair up and stuff…Which is when our rookies remember the whole porn thing and go looking for Ruki’s stash. Ah HA, what’s this lewd cosplay school uniform?!

-Her, her actual uniform.

-And all these rabbits?! Kaos knows rabbits mate like, like rabbits! Ruki, just, just like rabbits, you guys. Koyume wants to know where’s the perverted research material for drawing perverted manga?! Kaos counters that Koyume shouldn’t judge, maybe Ruki is just such a good pervert she can draw right out of her darkest fantasies without inspiration material!

-Ruki would like out of this now please.

-In fact, Kaos bets that under those baggy clothes, Ruki is super busty! Wait how did we even…Koyume wants to find out for herself and get a feel! And that’s how she goes for Ruki’s chest and finds it surprisingly padded and Kaos starts drawing the scene in front of her for lack of other ideas. How did we even get here. But the girls are finally made to apologize…

-And Ruki’s life story comes out. She sent in a manga about cute animals aimed at hitting the kid’s market. But her drawings of the human protagonist were so unintentionally erotic that she ended up getting sent to their 18+ division instead of their sad-onion division and serialized under the pen name Big Boobies <3 Himeko. She’d quit or start over, but now she has fans looking up to her, and their heartfelt admiration make her keep pushing. Big Boobies <3 Himeko-sensei, you’re really cool!

-Of course, with all of that, Tsubasa is behind the clock, and so soon everyone’s pitching in to try and do what they can to help…And so Tsubasa gives the rookies the tones to do, a classic grunt-labor job. Except she’s so deep into the weeds that she’s not unhooking what things like “unleash the dark energy” mean for her standard approach. Good news, Koyume knows what to do. Bad knows, Kaos doesn’t.

-But it’s because Koyume has fallen in love with Tsubasa’s manly manly charm. Anyways, thus begins the raw grind to get this chapter DONE. Koyume is doing really well, and is swiftly lost in Tsubasa’s praise. While Kaos is quietly freaking out because she’s going way slower. Not only is she less experienced, but Kaos learned digitally, and so dealing with all the analog tools is a whole new process for her. Aaaand that’s how she ends up messing up the panel. Oh god, oh god, get the white ou—THAT JUST DRIPPED AT THE WRONG SPOT

-…Kid you’re freaking out. Back up. Back up and breathe. Kaos falls into despair…But okay, this can all be fixed. Tsubasa just gets FULL SERIOUS, which also lets out a little bit of her old chuuni side. When she needs to totally concentrate, she inevitably ends up in cosplay of the characters. Whether that means we’ll be seeing more costumes, or if eyepatch and cape is just her Concentration Outfit, remains to be seen.

-Either way, Koyume is incredibly attracted to this serious stern look, as Tsubasa quickly fixes the lifework and gives Kaos a quick pick-me-up for her hard efforts. Koyume wants that kind of praiiiiise. …Oh god look at the clock. It’s time to get EVEN MORE SERIOUS!

-How do you get more serious than cosplay? First, by wielding the legendary three-pen style, like Manganora Zoro-sensei. Then, by TAKING OFF THE COSPLAY! Wait but then…

-Alright back to the grind. Kaos pushes hard, and is also starting to see…Just how far she might come if she stays here with these pros…Also she makes another mistake and Tsubasa has to fix it. Apologize when the chapter’s submitted, not before!

-And eventually, eventually, with the sun ready to rise, it’s DONE. Tsubasa flips through, confirms, and promptly lays down on the ground to collapse into unconsciousness. There’s a ton of passionate, intensity and yet kindness in this girl…It’s no wonder she’s able to draw shonen manga like she does…While Kaos here is just, so nervous, and awkward, and full of doubt, and she’ll never have any friends…

-Stop, stop right there. The dark inner thoughts are coming out. Also Koyume already considers you a friend. Ruki just needs more time to get to know Kaos, and Tsubasa is mumbling stuff about comrades in her sleep. The point is, you’ve got people on your side, rookie.

-Eventually, everyone’s just done, strewn out around the floor and trying to catch a few precious hours of sleep…

-Until that afternoon, when Kaos can confirm to her editor that she’s making new friends and feels like she’s making real progress! That’s good, that’s good. …What’s not good is your latest manuscript which is just not up to snuff to be put into the magazine as a one-off. Sorry kid.

-Credits!

…That got more dense than planned. And I didn’t even spend time detailing processes! We’ll see if things loosen up now that I’m not having to introduce everyone next time, in episode TWO of Comic Girls. Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #anime #comic girls

1 note · View note