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mysteryshoptls · 9 days

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SSR Epel Felmier - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: I'd been hearin' this place was just some fancy museum, 'cept it's way huger 'n I thought.

Epel: We ain't got a museum back home, so… Seein' all these paintin's hangin' 'bout's just crazy!

???: Look at that apple, it's so red and shiny! Totally looks photo-worthy ♪

Epel: Ah, Cater-san! Yeah, it's a really beautiful apple, huh. Although, it's pretty hard to get them this red even with a ton of effort.

Cater: Eh, really? Epel-chan, you sure know your apples ♪

Epel: Ehehe, that's because I'm from a family of apple farmers. I don't think anyone knows more than me when it comes to apples!

Cater: I see～

Cater: Y'know, the queen here looks like she's talking with the crow as she offers it the apple. What do you think she's saying?

Cater: Since even someone well-versed in the world of apples like you thought it's a great looking one, thinking she's saying something like, "Doesn't it look delicious?"

Epel: Nah. I think she's saying, "It's not for you!"

Cater: Eh! So mean!

Epel: Well, yeah!! Like, back home, we'd always have crows trying to nab our apples…

Epel: They'd damage them, poke holes in them, drop them half-eaten on the ground…

Epel: I can't stand them for treating our delicious apples like that!!

Epel: It'd be bad if we couldn't ship out our apples, so the village would band together every year to try to keep them crows out.

Cater: THE WHOLE VILLAGE!? Must be a pretty touch sitch. What kinda stuff do you do to get rid of them?

Epel: We'd put up nets, or make noises that the crows wouldn't like… And a bunch of other stuff.

Epel: But those guys are pretty smart, so we can only get rid of them for a short time… They always come back once they realize they're not in danger.

Epel: That's why whenever them crows came back, I'd jump on my broom and hoot 'n holler while chasing after them!

Cater: You'd hoot and holler while chasing after them!? Based on how petite you look, I couldn't imagine you doing something like that…

Epel: If I don't give them a good scare, they'll just keep coming back.

Epel: A few of the crows were more persistent, so I'd get worried that I'd run out of magic while trying to chase them.

Epel: But, thanks to all that, in the end, whenever I was in the orchard, the crows wouldn't come anywhere near it!

Cater: Pretty amazing of you to scare away all those annoying crows that had the whole village in a bind ♪

Epel: Eheheh, thank you.

Cater: If we're talking about when you were back home, that means this all happened before you came here, right? So basically, would you say you're a pretty good flier, Epel-chan?

Epel: Yep! The guys in the Magical Shift club'll praise me up and down for being able to chase down erratic discs.

Cater: Niiice, all your experiences with those crows are probably coming in handy, then.

Epel: Oh, when you put it that way, I guess so…!

Epel: I thought they were just a pain in my side, but… Those crows were useful in their own way too, I guess?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Cater: This painting… It's a scene from the tales of the kind-hearted princess. Ahh, a nighttime date on a magical flying carpet is so romantic ♪

Epel: Is that what this is? Oh, the magic carpet is holding something. Is this… a flower?

Epel: It's really drawn so lifelike. It looks like it was just freshly picked…

Cater: Ahaha. So I take it you're more interested in fresh flowers than a romantic date, Epel-chan?

Epel: I-I mean, when weeds are pulled out, they shrivel up pretty fast…

Epel: And even cut flowers need to be put into a vase as soon as possible, or it loses its vibrancy.

Cater: Really? Looks like you're just as in the know about plants as you are with apples.

Epel: Ehehe. I'm studying really hard right now so that I can be more useful to my village whenever I head back home.

Epel: I've been working on potions that'll keep plants from withering, or help them grow…

Epel: Recently, I've been growing my own plants so I can test my potions on them.

Epel: I panicked a bit when one of the pots broke when I was in the middle of testing out a new potion…

Cater: Eh!? You saying that it grew crazy fast, or something!?

Epel: Oh, no, no! I can't make potions that great yet, or with any effect, really…

Epel: Basically, it just fell because one of my roommates bumped their hand into it while they were getting ready for class.

Cater: Did you get hurt at all? It'd be bad if our cute little Epel-chan got injured!

Epel: Cute…!? …Urgh, yes, I was fine.

Epel: I had to clean up the broken pot and scattered dirt, so I was more worried about being late to class.

Epel: I planned on hitting up the school store afterwards to get another pot, since I didn't have any spares…

Epel: But Jack-kun, my classmate, shared one of his spare pots! I was able to move my plant into that one right away.

Cater: Hm? Why did Jack-kun…? Oh, right. He raises cacti, right?

Epel: Yeah! How did you know?

Cater: I remembered him posting a picture of a cactus on Magicam once. There wasn't any description, so I didn't really get what the picture was supposed to be of at first…

Epel: That must have been the cactus that Jack-kun's been growing, yeah.

Epel: He really tries to take good care of it, and had spare pots laying around.

Epel: So, when I said I broke my own plant's pot, he gave one to me, saying it was in return for some apples I gave him once.

Epel: Cater-san, are there are plants that you take care of?

Cater: Hmmm, I mean, there's a ton of plants in my dorm. But I don't think I'd ever really get around to raising some myself.

Epel: Yeah, it really takes time and effort to raise plants.

Epel: That's why it feels double awesome whenever the plant's flowers bloom or fruit grow!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: Oh hey, it's a painting of the Queen of Hearts! Both she and the animals on her shoulder look pretty proud of themselves.

Cater: It says that this is a painting depicting the scene where the Queen of Hearts had just secured her victory in a croquet match.

Cater: According to legend, the Queen of Hearts was able to hit shots that just curved right into the hoops.

Epel: Shots that curved right into the hoops!? I can't even do that when I aim for them… She's awesome!

Cater: Oh, so you've played croquet before?

Epel: Yes! Last weekend, Ace and Deuce asked me to help them practice.

Epel: Grim-kun and [Yuu]-san also joined us. It was supposed to just be practice, but we kinda ended up playing an actual match…

Epel: Hehe, we really got into it then.

Epel: By the time we finished the game, we were all so hungry. So we all just went to Foothill Town to eat.

Cater: Niiice～ Ah, so young and carefree. And let me guess, you guys went to a hamburger joint?

Epel: Eh, how did you know!?

Cater: When it comes to a joint in town that's affordable even for students, I can't really think of anything much other than that chain restaurant～

Epel: Oh yeah, Ace-kun said something like that too. But it's not like I knew of the restaurant before I came to Sage's Island.

Cater: Are you more the type to avoid fast food hamburger joints?

Epel: I wouldn't say I avoid them… It's a bit of a car ride to get to their closest chain back home, so I haven't had much opportunity to go, is all.

Cater: Oh wow. I totally thought they had a place set up pretty much everywhere, since it's even on this remote island.

Epel: Yeah… When I told Ace-kun and Deuce-kun, they were pretty surprised as well.

Epel: Until those two told me, I didn't even know that they did free refills at this restaurant...

Cater: Hm? I mean, I don't think it's just that one joint that does that, but the whole chain.

Epel: Eh, you mean that's not something only here at Sage's Island!?

Epel: Then that means I could have had free refills in the restaurant I went to back home… I didn't know at all.

Epel: What a waste, I'd only ever get one drink whenever I'd go. I'll have to let my family know next time I head back home.

Cater: Yeah, yeah. Whenever there's free refills, it's so easy to just lounge there forever, too～

Epel: Yeah! And that day, we got really caught up in conversation that it started to get dark… We had to hurry back to campus.

Cater: Oh, I see, I see. Well, thanks for getting along with my little freshie brethren.

Epel: What, you don't need to thank me! I had a ton of fun hanging with them.

Epel: Ah, wait, I'm sorry, I've kept you here a while now!

Cater: Don't worry about it, I was happy to chat with you ♪ I think I'll head off to the museum's café now.

Cater: I heard their menu is themed after the various exhibits here, so. See ya around, Epel-chan.

Epel: Right, see ya. …Well, Vil-san told me to learn a thing or two about beauty while I'm here, so I guess I'll go look around for a painting of the Fairest Queen.

Epel: Oh hey, there's another painting with an apple on it! This one looks really tasty, too.

Epel: Oh yeah, I remember when I was a kid, I heard the story of how the Fairest Queen cast her magic on apples, and would try to pretend to do the same.

Epel: And I'd chant… "Now, turn red. Tempt anyone and everyone to make them hunger for a bite…"

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #epel felmier #cater diamond #twst epel #twst cater #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: jack #mention: ace #mention: deuce #mention: grim #mention: yuu #mention: vil

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ozzgin · 4 months

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I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

#yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #daitou

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rennyrose · 4 months

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my dude, I've been following you just a little past when you introduced Bruce to us (Still SO chuffed that you decided to call him Bruce!!) and I wanna say. It's been incredible watching your art evolve over the years. It's also awesome seeing you handle characters (your own OCs or otherwise!) and bring them to life. Every time I see you on the dash I'm hit with some super deep-chest, warm-drink-feeling nostalgia, like "ough, look at renny's art and all the expression that's been fit into there!!" that makes me pause for a minute. It's always really nice to see, and I figured I'd tell you instead of sitting on it for an eternity, ha.

Been sitting on this non’ for a short minute trying to come up with something to describe how this makes me feel but unfortunately I don’t really have the words aside from ‘thank you’

#there’s a good deal of many things I could say but I don’t want to get Sappy™️#I don’t draw much of OCs and haven’t for a while and probably won’t for another good while #but thank you for sticking around anyways 🙏🙏⭐️🥲✨#drawing #sketch #digital art #trigun maximum #trigun #livio the double fang #trigun manga #art #fan art #vash the stampede #milly thompson #meryl stryfe #nicholas d wolfwood

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hannahmanderr · 9 months

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Now that I have y'all's attention, I would like to bring up another subject matter that is sorely slept on in the phandom:

Danny Fenton with white in his hair.

There is so much potential there in terms of both art and storytelling and I see it so rarely used that I go feral just about any other time I see it.

Like I just got done talking about too-ghostly Fenton and not-ghostly-enough Phantom, well BOOM here's a perfect physical representation of how his two halves aren't completely separate - they play into one another and exchange information and make Danny into something beyond human or ghost entirely.

The white hair is a great visual for showing the fact that even in human form, Phantom is still there, bleeding over.

Bonus points if that white hair goes black when he goes ghost, showcasing the humanity and part of Fenton that will always remain.

Plus come on, y'all have to admit it looks wicked cool. Not like how they did it in Phantom Planet, but y'all can't tell me you don't love the idea of something actually well placed/executed.

If I were better at drawing, I'd draw it myself. Even still, you can absolutely bet that I will always try to work in the white hair streak into whatever story I'm writing, you cannot stop me

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #headcanon #i am lowkey begging artists for this #and writers too #screw it #LISTEN I JUST ALWAYS NEED TO KNOW WHEN THERE IS WHITE IN THE HAIR DANNY #GIVE ME ALL THE WHITE HAIR DANNY

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agaypanic · 3 months

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Hello! I'd love to request Charlie Swan with a teacher girlfriend. Perhaps he comes to visit on his lunch or something and sees how attached the kids are to her and it makes him happy to see how caring she is. Please and thank you!(I work with pre k but my former class was todds and they are still clingy 💖💖)

Lunch Break (Charlie Swan X Teacher!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chief Swan visits his girlfriend on his lunch break, and can’t help but adore the way she is with her students.

A/N: i know nothing about taking care of or teaching little kids lol

***

Charlie wasn’t used to being around a toddler, let alone twenty of them. Even when his daughter Bella was at that age, he didn’t see her much.

Yet here he was, sitting in his girlfriend’s classroom, having lunch with her while a group of toddlers napped on the floor.

“So, how’s your day been?” You asked in a whisper, picking at the burger and fries that Charlie had brought you from the Carver Cafe.

“Oh, not much.” He responded in an equally low voice, but more gruff. His fingers smoothed over his mustache before speaking again. “Still looking into those missing persons cases, but we’ve been coming up with nothing.”

“You’ll find something, bear.” You squeezed his shoulder, and he leaned into your touch. “You always do.”

“Yeah, maybe… But enough about me, how’s your day?”

You let out a tiny laugh, not surprised that Charlie would bounce the attention onto you as soon as he could.

“Well, today we had an art day.” You gestured to one of your tables on the opposite side of the room, covered in different drying papers. “Watercolor, crayon, markers, that kind of thing. That was really fun. I know I shouldn’t play favorites, but I really like Delilah’s. You know her mom, right? Samantha?” Charlie nodded after a quick moment of thought, and so you continued. “Well, she wanted to make a meadow, so she covered her paper in green, and then she stamped little fingerprints all over as flowers. I mean, you kinda have to ask her what it is to figure out what it is, but I don’t know, it was really cute and- oh my god, I’m rambling, huh?” You covered your mouth to stop more word vomit from spilling, a little giggle slipping past your fingers.

Charlie pulled your hand away, laying a kiss on your knuckles. He nudged your knee with his own, a coy smile on his lips.

“No, I like hearing you talk.” Your cheeks reddened, and you scrunched your nose at him. He squeezed your hand. “Come on, keep going. What happened after painting?”

“Read the kids a story.” You answered, trying to remember the title. “They really like that Llama Llama book. But some of the kids really wanted ‘Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!’ so I told them I’d read that after nap time. Then they all had food, fell asleep, and then you came with lunch.” You ate a fry before stealing a sip of Charlie’s coffee. You liked how he didn’t mind, instead watching you with a fond expression. “Which is delicious, by the way, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

“Ms. Y/n?” A tiny voice sounded from one of the sleeping mats. You gave Charlie’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go and standing up from your chair.

“Jayden?” You asked quietly, even though you knew it was him from his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Bad dream.” The little boy answered, rolling off his cot and looking at you with bleary eyes and a frown.

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey.” You said softly, crouching down close to him. “Do you want a hug?”

He nodded a few times, carefully walking through his sleeping classmates to reach you. He latched his arms around your neck, and you patted his back, waiting until he felt better.

Charlie saw the interaction from the corner of his eye, not wanting little Jayden to feel watched. He couldn’t help but smile at how quickly you were able to comfort him. It was clear that you were made for this kind of work, being so caring and nurturing without even thinking about it.

“Feeling better?” You asked Jayden as he let go of you, and he nodded. You smiled at him. “I’m glad. Now, you have a couple more minutes before we gotta start waking up. Do you wanna lay back down?” Jayden nodded again, and with a little wave of his hand, he tiptoed back over to his mat.

When he was settled, you stood up from your crouched position and went back to Charlie, who was looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“What?” You asked, finishing off the rest of your food.

“Nothing.” He said, shaking his head a bit. Charlie looked at his watch and sighed, realizing his break was almost over. “I should probably leave. The boys’ll need me back at the station soon.”

“Okay.” You said with a slight pout, wishing you had more time with him. The two of you cleaned up, Charlie insisting that he could throw the trash away on his way out. “I’ll see you later, bear.”

“See you soon, sweetheart.” Charlie kissed your cheek and went to the door, giving you a wave before exiting the room.

#agaypanic #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight #twilight x reader

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dduane · 8 months

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Re: Magic systems

kosmonaunt asked:

I have the weird hyper-fixation of wanting to know all their is about The Speech and just how everything works!! I love learning about how power systems work, and it helps since I’m trying to develop my own. I’m always stuck on soft or hard magic systems. Since I don’t know all there is to really know about my system. Do you have tips on crafting magic systems? How do you feel about someone being inspired by pieces of your system?

Inspiration is fine! What you want to make sure you do with whatever inspires you, though, is to work hard to make your own take on it different from or better than what you borrowed. Around here we refer to this as "the magpie principle:" if you're going to pick up and play with/make off with a bright and shiny idea, you need to be working to produce something even brighter and shinier as your part of the "exchange". Whether or not you succeed at this (or can succeed), either sometimes or never at all, isn't the point. The point is to always be trying.

As regards building magic systems: there were three different ones in the foreground or background of my first novel alone—all of them with features that at this end of time I can recognize as being inspired by elements of magic systems in other writers' work. But by the time I'd more fully developed them, each had become something unique. The system I'm probably better known for—the system based on the wizardly Speech and its use—sprang more or less automatically from the increasingly complex answers to the question, "What if there was a manual that could tell you the truth about/the secrets of what makes the world go?". (Because once you answer one question, another pops up. "Where did that manual come from? What're you supposed to do with it? What's wizardry for?" Etc., etc.) I've spent the last few decades, on and off, answering that question in ways that (intentionally) mirror the main characters' exploration of the art of wizardry, and what it means to engage in the business of errantry in a world that mostly thinks wizards are a fairy tale.

Before getting into describing my own approach to building a system, I needed to take a little time to look around and make sure I knew what you meant when you mentioned hard and soft magic. My best guess is that you're referring to what a lot of people are calling "Sanderson's Three Laws of Magic" (fairly enough, as Brandon calls them that himself). I had a look, and have come to the conclusion that they're more general guidelines than laws... as in each of his three essays on the subject, Brandon no sooner names his basic laws/principles than he starts punching holes through them to make room for systems that don't follow them rigidly. (And frankly I find this kind of endearing.)

With his first one, in particular, I have no quarrel at all: the concept that in one kind of magic, which for his purposes he defines as the "hard" kind, rules are extremely important. (Which is why I'm kind of horrified that he apparently got dogpiled about this take on a Worldcon panel, because to me it seems so intuitive. Some of the best fantasy storytellers I know, like this one, would agree with him.) Then later he gets on to the equally valid ideas that limitations on magic are really important, and that culturally interconnecting multiple systems is useful; and here too we're in agreement. This is reassuring to me, considering that I built my first four systems—all of which feature approaches resting on similar concepts—while Sanderson was between four and six years old. :)

People using Sanderson's Laws will look at the three systems in the Middle Kingdoms books and classify them as varying sorts of relatively hard magic, with their power rooted in two or maybe three different sources. (The blue Fire is a gift of the Divine, nearly lost since ancient times and much damaged, but now slowly being recovered: sorcery is a language-based art in which no one's terribly sure where its power comes from: and the so-called "royal magics" probably started out as a blood sorcery that over centuries was shifted toward very specific uses by the power of the demigod-descendants who employed it.)

The Young Wizards novels, though, feature an extremely hard magic deeply rooted in science and (more or less under the hood) very, very rules-intensive... while its power relies on correct use of the language used to create the Universe, and the active cooperation of the Powers still busy about that work. And this is the reason why, though people are going to naturally be curious about the Speech itself, no one's going to hear very much from me about its actual words.

This is because the Speech is canonically described as so powerful that its use is something you can feel in your body and mind (and theoretically your spirit): bone-shaking, life-changing, unmistakable. And there's no way that made-up words on the page can realistically be expected to evoke physical sensations like that in the reader... or like the sense of the universe going silent around you, leaning in to listen, as you speak your spell. The careful writer knows that it's unwise to attempt to produce responses in the reader that, when they fail, will only emphasize how that thing is not happening, and stands a good chance of shattering the illusion one’s trying to weave.

So a Speech-word gets dropped here and a phrase there, but no one's ever going to get enough of it out of me to try to build a spell. Readers are better at doing that work for themselves in their own heads, out of hints and whispers. Over ten books and their interstitial material, there are plenty of those scattered through the text: not to mention the most basic principles of wizardry, which are laid out before the end of the first chapter of the first book in the series. So I'll leave you to get on with deducing what you can from canon.

Meanwhile, if I was about to build a new system, I'd look at my main characters—in the setting of their home cultures—and ask myself for answers to these questions:

What do they want more than anything?

Why can't they have it?

What kind of power will help them get it?

When they do eventually get within reach of the power / the desired thing... what will its achievement cost them?

And will they pay the price?

...Because the payment of such prices is where you find out what your heroes are worth. (Or aren't.) The above arc succinctly describes, in broad strokes, both The Door into Fire and So You Want To Be A Wizard, and a good number of the books that follow them. (Because why abandon what works, or try to fix what's not broken?) :)

With answers to the questions above you can start feeling your way toward what you need—always looking closely at the cultures your characters spring from, and how those cultures will shape their response to the magic they seek. (Or that finds them.) Maybe it's no surprise that the preferred arc structure of a writer who was a psychiatric nurse will be deeply involved with questions of motivation: because motivation is at the heart of almost all human behavior. Find the motivation and you find the character's heart—and, often enough, what kind of magic they need to make their desire and intention overflow into triumph.

...There are quite a few "How to design your magic system" pages out there. You might glance at these to see if there's anything useful in them for you:

How To Build An Amazing Magic System For Your Fantasy Novel

How To Create A Magic System In Six Simple Steps

Building Your Magic System: A Full Recipe

How To Create A Rational Magic System

However, my favorite is the "So You Want To Write A Functional Magic System" page at TV Tropes, which is nicely arranged yet also completely nonprescriptive—a pick-'n'-mix jar of prompts, things other writers have done that've worked, and generally useful ideas. (And try not to vanish too far down the many interconnected rabbitholes...) :)

Now get out there, build the world, and make the magic(s).

#magic systems #building magic #magic #writing advice #fantasy

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artofchira · 7 months

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As someone else who's in the process of burning out just surviving, and has lost sight of why I enjoyed art in the first place, would you be willing to share some of the things you've tried to get back on your feet? Super glad that you're doing so much better, btw.

First: It's actually become a job for me to help artists reconnect to their art through my mentorship workshop with everything I have learned, and I consider myself very good at it. I've been doing it for about 4 years now. If you or any other artist would like direct help with recovering from burn out please check out the service page of my website and testimonials from previous clients.

To answer your question:

A lot of my own personal stabilization just came as a result of wanting the experience of making art to be comfortable. It wasn't a choice anymore. After my father passed I relaxed for about 3 months -- longest I went without drawing in my life since I started freelancing -- and when I sat back at my desk I just couldn't make myself work under the same pressure. I'd try to force myself to draw and it made me want to cry instead. I quickly learned I could only create if I felt comfortable and drawing felt gentle, so I had to accept moving forward if I wanted to continue being as productive as before I needed to find a way of working that eliminated stress or using will power, which means working in a way that was renovated from the ground up. I couldn't go back. How I was making art was over. I needed it to be repaired. I had no idea what that looked like, so it was truly trial and error.

A fact about me is I have a very high sensory/pain threshold naturally (I also recently learned I was autistic over the pandemic, imagine that has something to do with it) so I've always been historically bad at ignoring my physical limitations because I rarely felt them unless my body broke down on me, and when it did I treated myself with annoyance and forced myself to work through it. I'm talking like no sleeping for 3-4 days straight, or coming home after a kidney stone to finish a comic page still shaky on pain and morphine and then feeling bad at myself for being lazy. To say my old work habits were highly self abusive is an understatement. So when I started addressing everything that was an inconvenience and uncomfortable, it ended up correcting everything I was ignoring or failed to consider a problem until it was past due.

To cut a long story short, a list of material changes to my life that improved my health:

I got medicated, finally. I'm extremely bipolar. Always have been. Drawing between periods of oscillating between feeling divinely invincible vs ideating suicide every waking moment vastly became easier to manage.

I got glasses. I'm farsighted, but it was never a problem for me since I could see fine -- ooor so I thought. Turns out when you're farsighted you're focusing constantly without even realizing it. Turns out getting glasses gave me 80% of my mental space back so I suddenly had more energy, generally more awake, and more focused. No one talks about farsightedness so I had absolutely no idea I was burning myself out physically just being able to see. Worth mentioning!

Started seeing a massage therapist and a chiropractor regularly. I always thought of those things as luxuries, not necessities. Which was extremely stupid. Maintaining my physical body through directly working out kinks in it became something like brushing my teeth or showering -- it's just something you do to make sure health and hygiene isn't making you dysfunctional and rotting you. My body no longer breaks down.

For the same reasons as above, maintained seeing my therapist regularly even if I felt fine or had no issues to work out. I realized I was always quick to end support as soon as I felt I didn't need it anymore (again treating it as a luxury) so making the space in my life for mental/emotional check ins kept my head organized. My therapist is bewildered by me and has no idea what to do with me because she feels she's not doing anything. I just tell her by me making the space for me to explain myself at all, even if all I was doing was describing how I was fine, was the help. She's great.

Got a cappuccino machine. May seem stupid but being able to make gourmet coffees from my kitchen every morning really genuinely improved my life and mind more than getting medicated.

Got a dog. He's amazing. I love him. Very warm and loving companion, and such a gentle soul. He keeps me out of my head and gets me prioritizing walks every day, so my vitamin D intake increased massively. I don't have the luxury of staying in bed for 3 days straight in my depressive episodes anymore. I have to make the effort to leave it at least twice a day to walk and feed him and play with him. Like most people, I'm terrible at prioritizing for myself but will move worlds for those I love no matter where I'm at.

For personal habits I just reflected a lot on why I felt I had to will myself to draw when drawing is something I love doing most. It made no sense to resent doing what you devote yourself to doing. I changed -- and still changing -- my mental framing in how I think of working on art for it to be something I'm eager to do, not obligated to.

Hope this was educational.

#ask box answers #Personal

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denaliwrites · 7 months

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f i c m a s t e r l i s t

p o l i c i e s (please read before making requests!)

b a d s a m a r i t a n The Best of You, Honey, Belongs to Me Blackthorn Cover Myself in the Ashes of You Dumb Ways To Die Enough of You to Dull the Pain (18+) Hellbent Looking For A Godsend Hit Me With Your Best Shot I Got This Feeling On A Summer Day (18+) I'm Gooey in the Middle Baby Let Me Bake In His Eyes A Flaming Glow Intrigued and Afraid Keep You Like An Oath (18+) Killing Me Softly My Baby Shot Me Down (18+) Not Much Between Despair and Ecstasy (18+) Only Touch That Gets Me Melting (18+) Run Rabbit Run (18+) Say My Name Send a Thousand Kings Away Shia Surprise Something Good to Celebrate Stop, Look and Listen, It's Halloween! Taste of a Poison Paradise Trust in Me, Just in Me With Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart Your Body's a Secret Girl and You're About to Spill It (18+)

t h e b o y s Watch That Butcher Burn

b r o a d c h u r c h Always Leave Me With a Hungry Heart Am I Doing This Right? An Art to Life's Distractions Beating Like A Kick Drum Catch & Release Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do It's Been a Long, Long Time Love's Perfect Ache Now and Again We Try to Just Stay Alive Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale Say You'll Remember Me Say You'll Remember Me (Denali's Version) Tell Me It's A Nightmare

d o c t o r w h o Cuddle, Meet Puddle Cute Things Don't Blink (Part 1) Don't Turn Your Back (Part 2) Don't Look Away (Part 3) Dreams See Us Through (Part 4) Hate the Feeling of Falling Have a Holly Jolly Christmas Horrible Things Isn't That Wizard It's How I'm Made Let Me Come Home Little Creepy House On the Brave Shit The Origin of (Love Bug) Species What Beautiful Things I'll Wear When the Crypt Doors Creak You Know That I Would Jump Too

d u c k t a l e s Tales of Daring

g o o d o m e n s All I Want For Christmas Aziraphale's Favorite Author Dance on a Tightrope of Weird Free as My Hair His Love is All in Me How the Wine Plays Tricks on My Tongue Lockdown Blues Making Biscuits My Heart's a Stereo Naked in That Garden (18+) Out There Making DuckTales Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made Road to Hell Something Meaty For The Main Course Step Too Far Tongue Tied Your Love is Holy (18+)

f a l l o f t h e h o u s e o f u s h e r Tomorrow I Shall Be Fetterless (18+)

f r i g h t n i g h t Emptiness to Melody Everybody Scream in Our Town of Halloween Fixed Up to the Nines Howl Like an Animal in the Darkness I'm So Hot I'd Fuck Myself (18+) I'm Starvin', Darlin', Let Me Put My Lips to Somethin' Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (18+) Make Me Glow Night of Long Fangs (18+) Parade of Dancing Skeletons Talk So Pretty (18+) Who Are You Supposed To Be, Criss Angel? (18+)

h a u n t i n g o f b l y m a n o r ???

j u r a s s i c p a r k / w o r l d Best Behavior The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm

p r o d i g a l s o n But Then My Stupid Phone Beeps Never Fallen From Quite This High Office Supplies Rude Boy They are the Hunters, We are the Foxes Trigger Happy With a Sense of Poise (18+)

#denali writes #masterlist #broadchurch #doctor who #good omens #fright night #bad samaritan #prodigal son #reader insert #fanfic #alec hardy x reader #tenth doctor x reader #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #peter vincent x reader #cale erendreich x reader #martin whitly x reader #michael sheen #david tennant

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fortunekookie07 · 26 days

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Before you start reading this one, I'd just like you to know that Chryssikyu is 100% responsible for this one. All it took was one thought and I had to write something. Also I'm not capable of writing smut, it's beyond my capabilities. This is as far as I can go. So sorry. Without further ado I present to you

Call Me

You huff looking down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Rafayel has once again ignored your phone calls. Answered text messages? Keep dreaming!

This is the same man who got super pissy and dramatic when you didn't answer his call right away. It was always something like, "I guess I'm not important enough for you to take my calls." Or something of the like. Yet somehow, you managed to find his dramatic pouty self adorable.

Today, though? Not so much, you were sorely tempted to let a cat lose in his studio for not taking your calls all afternoon. He'd know it was you, though. You were the only one he'd admitted to of his extreme dislike (read fear) of the furry creature. Revenge would be had. Thus, you just didn't have the heart.

After another hour and still no response, you decided to pay him a visit. So you take the twenty minute trip over to his private art studio/home.

Walking up the path, you see nothing out of the ordinary, the same plants and pathway as always. Just as you reach the door, you hear music. You pause, Rafayel certainly liked music. He'd recommend some artists to you before. It's just that he'd never played any in his studio before. It was usually quiet. That was how he preferred it.

Hesitantly, you turn the knob slowly and carefully so as not to make a sound. Thank god Rafayel had regular maintenance done on his doors. They never squeaked or creaked. He detested that sound.

You remove your shoes and leave them in the doorway. Something just telling you not to make any sounds. Carefully searching the downstairs studio reveals that he's not here, but the further you venture in the louder, the music is.

You realize you hear two voices, one coming from a female and the other, definitely male. You freeze, oh my god, is Rafayel singing?!? The male voice is amazing. You've never heard anything like it, so you keep going almost as if his voice is luring you in.

At the top of the stairs, the living room is situated, a wide space. Rafayel had personally designed the room, and it reflected him greatly. The huge wall to the back was his own painting of the sea. One of his greatest works. Sadly, not many would ever see it. He rarely had company over, and even fewer of them were invited up to his living quarters upstairs. You were one of two people to be given that privilege.

This wasn't the most amazing thing, though. There, in front of the large sofa, was Rafayel singing and dancing using his paintbrush as a microphone. He was completely oblivious to your presence.

You quickly took out your phone and snapped a few photos before recording. The song ended then, and he turned around, seeing you holding your phone and trying not to laugh.

His ears instantly went red as a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. "How long have you been standing there? It's rude not to announce your presence." He partially covered his face, his eyes darting away. Then he saw that you were holding your phone camera pointed at him. "Are, are you recoding me?!?!?" He asked Incredulously his blush, deepening as he made to grab your phone.

"Delete it!" He swiped for the sleek device, but you managed to dodge his frantic hands. "Nope! This is all mine now. " You wagged the phone in his face before stuffing it down your shirt. Rafayel would never be so bold to get it now. You poked his cheeks, and he swiped at you again.

"Do that again, and I'll spit bubbles at you." He said, rubbing his face and trying to hide his red face. "What have you been doing? I've been trying to call you all day." You put your hands on your hips and raise a brow.

"I was trying to get inspiration and then decided to listen to some music. You know the rest." He crossed his arms and turned away from you in a humph motion. Still embaressed at having been caught.

When you asked what song and he gave the title, you frowned. "That song is like twenty years old. Why are you listening to that?" You'd heard the song before, just not in a long time. "It came in the station I was listening to." He defended.

"Next time, don't ignore my calls. Did you forget you wanted me to go with you to buy supplies for your painting?" Rafayel's face brightened, and his eyes were almost twinkling. You thought you had him until realization hit him.

"Hand over your phone first. You took pictures. If they aren't perfect, I'll delete them." He held his hand out expectantly.

"Nope! These are all mine." You grinned at the pout on his face, certain he would not venture to get it. You were about to find out how wrong you were

He reached towards you going for your shirt. Swatting his hands away, you "No touchy!" He only grinned in response. "Oh, I'm going to touch alright." The wicked glint in his eyes sent your heart racing. "Rafayel!" You say in warning backing up. The only escape is the stairs behind you.

You turn to dash down them to another room below. We'll that was your intention anyways. Right behind you is that blue fish. You stop short. That was all the time he needed. His arms snake around, you pulling you into his firm chest and holding you tight.

One of his hands plays with the bottom of your shirt, his fingers tapping your bare stomach underneath. His head burries into your shoulder, and he whispers your name against the bare skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A groan escapes your lips.

"I've got you now." He says, and you feel his grin before he is kissing your neck and making you squirm. You through your head back and sigh, leaving your mouth at his attention. His fingers are drawing patterns lightly on your stomach, and shivers shoot down your spine.

"This will end if you give me the phone." His voice is low and husky against your neck. "No-o." Your rebuttal is more of a moan at this point. Your brain is hazy as Rafayel starts on your buttons. The first one comes open with a pop, and his fingers are quick to trace more patterns on your stomach.

"Are you going to give me your phone?" He asks, nibbling on your ear. "Ahhhn," is all you manage to get out. The second button is popped, his fingers part your shirt, and the cool air makes you shiver against his heat. "How about now?" You manage to shake your head. The third button is undone. His fingers are just below your bra now. "Rafa...!" Your voice is breathless as he takes the last three buttons in one go.

His seeking fingers quickly pull your shirt open, exposing your chest and the stashed phone. "I'm taking it now." His voice is low and husky as he nips your ear again. His hands slide up your sides slowly. He's definitely teasing you now.

With your mind in a daze, you try to grab your phone, but his nimble fingers are faster. He grabs your wrist and then laces your fingers together. He kisses each of your fingers and the back of your hand before turning your head towards him and pinning you with a piercing stare.

Rafayel's blue-pink eyes are so heated and deep, you're about to fall in. Like you are looking at a quietly raging sea. He slowly leans in, dragging the moment out, and you let out an impatient whine. With your free hand, you wrap it around the back of his neck and draw him in closer. He brings your joined hands down lower, wrapping them around your waist and drawing you closer back. And then finally, finally, his lips press against yours.

You're so lost in his kiss that you don't even notice him delicately drawing your phone out of its hiding place in your bra and slipping it into his pants pocket. He lets go of your arm and then turns you around before hooking his hands around your knees and hoisting you up to his height. Your legs go around his waist, and then he's kissing you again as he walks to his bedroom.

****************************************************

As you lay in the bed with only a thin sheet covering you and Rafayel's arm for a pillow, you finally remember what started all this. "My phone! Rafayel, where is my phone?" He hums not fully paying attention. Just laying beside you with his eyes closed. You pink his arm as you sit up. "You stole my phone!" You can't even be mad at him. You fell for his distraction.

Sitting up, you look around the room for clothes. Spying his black pants, you leap off the bed and dash over to it. Sure enough, your phone is in his pocket. As fast as you can, you email a copy of the video you took and the pictures to yourself before looking at him triumphantly.

He's just sitting up resting an elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his hand, watching you. "Do you want a picture of me so badly?" He asks in a provoking tone. Deciding that you've had enough of his games, you walk over and grab his face with both hands. "I prefer the real thing." You say stealing a kiss before slipping away again.

"I've got to go now, I have a mission. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't forget to call me this time!" You hurriedly dress yourself and turn to leave the bedroom before he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back. "Come straight here when you're done." He says a serious look in his eyes. "I miss you when you're gone." You turn and hug him. "I'm just a phone call away." You kiss him again and then head out the door.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fic #@chryssikyu

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mysteryshoptls · 3 months

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SSR Idia Shroud - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: It hits so different when the real deal's right in front of me! I can feel my power level rising just by basking in these creators' true art!!

Summon Line: Phone's switched off while in the museum. I don't gotta worry about the daily missions on my mobile games, since I've cleared them all already. 'K, time to get going.

Groooovy!!: Everyone has a weakness or two. Obviously, that includes immortal heroes, too... Heehee.

Home: 100 years, not bad...

Home Idle 1: I can basically draft up designs and blueprints of tech systems using software, but when it comes to actually doing art... Basically, I'm more of a read-only type lurker.

Home Idle 2: That sleepy looking King of Beasts painting kind of reminds me of Leona-shi. Especially how it looks like he could pounce at any moment despite looking like he's not paying any attention.

Home Idle 3: I was surprised that I could buy whatever design of postcards I wanted from the shop. I'm so used to it just being something like 3 random cards in a pack out of a possible 50 or whatever...

Home Idle - Login: Hoards of art made by top-tier artists! Seeing it live is just a whole different sensation! Time'll just fly by here... I wonder if I can see 'em all.

Home Idle - Groovy: Crazy how Silver-shi can just spam the "praise" button over and over again without any charge time needed... I got no defenses on how to deal with this sort of thing.

Home Tap 1: If everything in life could be fixed just by singing Hakuna Matata, then I'd be a bright little extrovert by now...

Home Tap 2: I thought there was some sort of sparkling statue at the entrance to the cafe, but it was just Vil-shi checking out the menu.

Home Tap 3: So, it's true, then, that Ace-shi's got super nimble fingers? Not fair at all that on top of being a smooth-talker, he's also got that kinda dexterity.

Home Tap 4: This fit... It's way to shimmery for a gloomy guy like me... Eh, it works? U-Uh huh... Okay.

Home Tap 5: What do you want? If you want to try to get in the way of my nerd out, you're just asking to get your forehead flicked! And I'll be the one who has to do the flick... I bet you feel bad now, huh?

Home Tap - Groovy: C-Can you help me carry the merch I got from the shop to the storage lockers? Th-Thx... I'll grab you a coffee later.

Duo: [IDIA]: Silver-shi, thx. [SILVER]: Aye, Idia-senpai!

Birthday Login Message: Siiiigh... As expected, I didn't win a greeting from Premo's birthday present campaign. Looks like, as always, I'm just a poor soul that'll only get birthday wishes from my family and my games... EEK!? WHEN DID YOU GET HERE!? Eh, you came to wish me a happy birthday? I-Is that so...? Well, thanks. Wheehee.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idia shroud #silver #twst idia #twst silver #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: leona #mention: vil #mention: ace

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blueskittlesart · 2 months

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Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

#i've had this account since i was 15 years old. you can literally go back and see my ass did NOT know what i was doing #but i was having fun and the weird stuff that i was trying that maybe didn't always look right was what laid the groundwork #for my current skills!#i know this advice is basically just 'practice' which is what everyone says but it's important to me that you know #that practice should be FUN too. practice isn't drawing boring shit over and over again before you get to draw the fun stuff #practice is drawing the fun stuff that is maybe a little out of your comfort zone and maybe it looks a little wonky but you did it #and you had fun doing it! and now you'll be a little more prepared to do it again in the future!#asks

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copperbadge · 3 months

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Hey Sam. If you're so inclined, could you recommend a few 'must eat' places in Downtown Chicago? My hotel will be near the Red Line (Grand station) and I'm fine walking a good 10 minutes for awesome food. I'm planning my trip and trying to put together a few food places for lunch and dinner and such. Pizza, burgers, bbq, donuts, steak, sushi..., I'm flexible!

You know, honestly, I don't eat out much anymore so I'm not sure where the best places to get a bite are. I'm going to make some recommendations but they're about to be a mixture of "If you come to Chicago this is somewhere everyone goes" and "This is somewhere Sam personally likes to eat but which you may not go for." :D

So, if you're at Grand, you are pretty much on top of the Weber Kettle Grill. Weber Kettle Grill does GREAT grill food and my parents always want to eat there when they come into town. If you ask to sit at the chef's table, you'll be seated at what looks like a bar, but it also looks all the way down the row of giant indoor grills the chefs use to cook the food. If you want something quieter and less busy they also have a fairly large dining room.

If you want a real Chicago experience, there's a Portillo's pretty close to you (that one's called "Portillo's & Barnelli's"); Portillo's is a local chain that does burgers, dogs, and crucially Italian Beef. Italian Beef is my go-to Chicago food for people who (like me) don't want to eat Deep Dish Pizza. It's a crusty roll filled with shredded braised beef; you can get it with sweet peppers, hot peppers, or no peppers (they might call it "giardinera" which is the local term for the pepper relish they use). If you get it "dipped", once the sandwich is made it's dunked in a flavorful jus before being wrapped up; if you don't like wet bread I'd skip this, but I love it. If you REALLY don't like wet bread, maybe get a Chicago Style hot dog instead. Portillo's is also famous for being The Place Where they make you a milkshake with an entire slice of chocolate cake in it. You can also just get a slice of cake, which is fantastic.

There's also an Al's Italian Beef near you if you want a more local experience. Locals absolutely can and will eat at Portillo's, the food's not better at Al's, it's just a bit more tourist-friendly than Al's tends to be.

If you want that true authentic Chicago deep dish experience (pie crust filled with cheese and then topped with sauce) Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due are very close by; they vie for the dubious honor of having invented the deep dish pizza. I can't recommend it, but if you want it, hit one of those.

If you're not from the midwest and would like to sample a decent approximation of Detroit style deep dish (thick bready crust topped with cheese and then sauce) Jet's Pizza likely delivers to your hotel. I can't recommend going to a Jet's, many of them don't have anywhere to sit and eat, and for a pizza joint they're a bit costly, but it's very good pizza. My Detroit friends say it's a perfectly acceptable pie by their standards.

Volare Ristorante is a nearby hidden gem if you're in the mood for upscale Italian; I really like their pasta, but they are on the pricier end. If you're walking east on Grand to get there, you do have to go under Michigan, and you will likely fear that you will be stabbed and left for dead in this weird underground cavern, but I promise you, it's smelly but safe.

Goddess And The Baker and Beatrix are both good places to pick up breakfast. If you wish to glimpse Hell, the Starbucks Roastery at Michigan and Erie is one of the largest buxes in the country (possibly the world?) and is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE to navigate, but it's certainly an experience.

If you're venturing into the Loop, Russian Tea Time is a fun place to have afternoon tea and the a la carte food is also quite good; they're very close to the Art Institute. There's not much to eat if you're going to the museum campus, and my favorite Greek place closed down, but Minghin Cuisine is a good Chinese place (I've eaten there) and AO Hawaiian Hideout is supposedly some of the best Chinese in the city (I have not eaten there).

If you are craving Chinese, you can also catch the Red Line directly to the Chinatown stop and browse, I've never had a bad meal in Chinatown. When you get off the train, if you go north to the station exit with only stairs, you can exit, look left, and see the "new" Chinatown that's basically an outdoor mall; if you go south to the escalator exit, once you leave turn right and you'll see the big pagoda entrance to "old" Chinatown, which is more shops than restaurants. New Chinatown has some excellent bakeries, and also a Korean fried chicken place, Bonchon, that's extremely good. Usually when I take friends we go to Joy Yee which has a huge menu and also bubble tea.

As a final plug I'll list The Berghoff, which is in the loop (off the Jackson Red Line stop); it's pretty hefty German cuisine, all excellent food, and also is a top notch place to take anyone with gluten issues -- the owners have a kid with a gluten intolerance and the restaurant has an exceptional gluten-free menu with unusually strict protocols to prevent cross-contamination in the kitchen.

And if you want to get a little baked first, you are pretty close to Sunnyside dispensary, which is a very nice dispensary with super friendly people. If you take the Red Line to Roosevelt or are in the area, Grasshopper Club is less expensive, just as friendly, and Black-owned, and they've been my go-to for a couple of months now. At either one you can walk-in to speak to a budtender about what you'd like, or you can preorder online, but be aware that there are limitations on what out-of-staters can purchase. Having sampled most of the gummies out there, I'd recommend Mindy's (any flavor is good but the black cherry is my preferred). Do bring ID, you will be carded.

I hope you enjoy Chicago! If you have more questions feel free to hit me up here or at [email protected] if you'd like to have more of like, a dialogue :) Have fun and eat well!

#chicago #chicago food #food #dining

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months

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No One Here Is Alone

Elks Chapter 2

Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: Joel has you over to begin your mural for him. Two nights of painting, two nights of Joel making you dinner, two nights of him always looking at you the way he does, and one walk home under a shared umbrella. Chapter Warnings: None really, it's just soft Jackson Joel making you spaghetti and soup. You drop paint on your thigh and Joel watches you clean it up. Joel brings you a pillow for your aching knees. Words: 4,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Just a reminder that this is super soft. Definitely very little angst and conflict. Sometimes it's nice to escape with a big ol' comfortable Joel Miller blanket.

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Masterlist Playlist

*** “Radio Cure” by Wilco.

It’s Monday evening and you’re too nervous to begin the week. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, stood in front of Joel’s house clutching your messenger bag stuffed full of art supplies. Three quick knocks on the door and a deep breath to steel your nerves.

“Hi,” Joel greets you as he opens the door, “come in.”

“Hey,” you try to calm your smile when you see him grin down at you.

"Let me show you the room where I'd like it."

Joel leads you into his home, to a makeshift studio of sorts right off of the living room. It's filled with various wood workings, half carved animals, shelves of tools, and a long work table. You'd never expect it, but Joel is an artist like you.

You love the space, it's so open and warm. Lived in and utilized, you're so happy places like this still exist in people's homes.

A couple of guitars well past their time sit leaning against a wall.

“You play?” You ask as you nod towards them.

“Been playing almost my whole life. You?”

“Same, my guitar broke a few weeks ago,” a sad sigh escaping, “there’s a big hole in the side now.”

“Bad luck. Your stereo and your guitar?”

“Afraid so. It’s very quiet in my house.”

“They’re broken over there, but I just haven’t gotten around to fixing ‘em, I’m sure I could easily repair one for you.”

“Joel, you— that’s very nice, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“No, s’okay, I like fixing things.”

“Wish I could fix things. By the time I would be done with trying to repair something it’d be a pile of sawdust.”

A huff of air releases out of Joel’s mouth, his smile making a dimple you’ve never seen before appear. God, he’s gorgeous. “You’re funny, I can see why Ellie likes you.”

You can feel a blush creep up your chest and bloom into your cheeks. “Where would you like me to draw the mural?” Your question used as a way to cut through the nervousness inside of you.

“Was thinking over on this wall with the window, I can see it from my chair in the living room.”

The wall is large and empty. You’re not sure if the cream hue is the original paint color or colored that way from age. It’s a perfect spot.

“Good choice. Do you want the whole wall?”

“The whole wall.”

“Just bluebells?”

“Just bluebells.”

“Perfect.”

You take the pencil resting in the chest pocket of your overalls out, place it against the wall, and begin to lightly sketch a bluebell on Joel’s wall. You can feel his eyes on you, his large body taking up most of the doorway. You urge yourself to focus on your art and not the fact that you can hear his inhales and exhales echoing against his walls and floorboards.

Joel clears his throat. “I’ll just be in the kitchen making my dinner, did ya’ eat?”

“No,” you say turning back to look at him, “but I can eat after I’m done here.”

“Have more than enough here for another person, Ellie’s at Dina’s tonight. You like pasta?”

“Of course I do, I’d starve if I didn’t. Shelf stable.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ll be cookin’, just holler if you need anything. Help yourself to any of the supplies I have in here.” You nod as Joel turns and walks down the hall.

You go back to sketching as your mind floats around how everything already feels so comfortable with Joel, he’s been nothing but kind to you, nothing like the hushed rumors and stories that float all over Jackson about him.

— —

“What a beautiful face,

I have found in this place,

That is circling all ‘round the sun,

What a beautiful dream...”

The hairs on the back of your neck stick up as the music begins. It’s been quiet for the past half hour, the only sound is Joel moving about in the kitchen and your pencil against the wall. He’s playing your CD. You’re all alone and yet you still try to clear the grin that’s formed on your lips. You tuck your pencil behind your ear and walk to the kitchen to find Joel moving the pot of cooked pasta over to the sink to drain. You try not to stare at the way his biceps stretch the sleeves of his shirt, the steam floating into the air around him, he looks like a dream. Domestic bliss, it’s the only way you can describe it, happening right in front of your eyes.

“Neutral Milk Hotel,” you say as you stand in the doorway. You begin to rub your daisy pendant, you wonder when he’ll notice it’s a tell whenever you begin to remember the past.

“S’a pretty good song.” Joel turns toward you, his eyes moving to focus on your fingers moving along the petals.

“Thanks for putting this on, I missed hearing music.”

“When’d your player break?” Joel’s eyes still focused on your daisy pendant.

“A little over a week ago at this point. I lived without a stereo for close to 15 years. Went through all of my 20’s without hearing my music while I was in the QZ, my CD’s sat in a crate next to my bed all those years. I got used to them existing almost like photographs, circular snapshots of memories… silent and incapable of their original use,” you muse. “When I got here and walked into my house the first thing I saw was a small boombox on the shelf, I almost passed out when Maria told me it worked. It had to be repaired a few times and Gordon kept warning me that it wasn’t built to last. Took it to him the day after it broke for good and he let me know nothing could be done. I felt like I lost a limb.” You ramble sometimes, you know this, you always have. You like talking, especially when you’re comfortable. Joel makes you comfortable.

“M’sorry,” Joel says as he begins to dish the pasta and sauce out into two bowls.

“Thanks, I still have other things to fill up my time so it’s not as bad as I’m making it seem. I know it’s a luxury and I know I can live without it. It’s just… the noise kept me company, you know?”

“I do,” Joel says as he places the bowls of food on his table, his eyes still not leaving you.

He’s always looking at you, watching you, as if he can’t look away. You’d do the same if you weren’t so scared he’d catch you. You sense Joel doesn’t care if he gets caught.

You sit down at his table. The glow of the sunset filtered through the window sets everything in an orange tone. Coffee rings cover Joel’s wooden table top, a sign he probably never cleans up his mug until after he’s home in the evening. The smell of tomatoes, garlic, and onion from the bowl of pasta in front of you tantalizes you.

“This looks delicious,” you say as you pick up your fork.

“Sauce was made by Maria, she takes pity on my kitchen skills and makes sure Ellie and I are well fed.”

“She’s great,” you say through a bite. “So is Tommy.”

He nods.

You fall into a shared silence as you both eat. You can’t even think of the last time you had dinner with a man, let alone one that that cooked for you.

“This is my favorite song on your CD,” Joel speaks up as a slow and haunting song starts to play.

“Cheer up, honey I hope you can,

There is something wrong with me,

My mind is filled with silvery stars”

“‘Radio Cure’ by Wilco. One of my favorite bands. My only CD of theirs is so scratched it no longer works… this is the only song I have now.”

You sit back and close your eyes as you listen and mouth the words.

“S’beautiful,” Joel says as you open your eyes and find him watching you again. “The song’s beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he speaks his words out. So soft and deep, you wonder if he talks to anybody else this gently.

“If you like it, keep my CD, please. You’ll get more use out of it than I will now.”

“I’ll borrow it until you get a new CD player,” Joel says as he stands. “You’re welcome to come over and listen whenever you want. You can bring your other CD’s over if you’d like.”

“Goodness. I appreciate that.”

“Glad to help.”

“I”m going to go back to drawing before it gets any darker,” you take your bowl over to Joel, “I really enjoyed dinner, thank you.”

“‘Course.” Joel takes the bowl from your hand and deposits it into the soapy water.

You go back to the woodworking room, pick up your pencil and continue delicately sketching flowers on his wall.

— —

“It really, really, really could happen,

Yes, it really, really, really could happen

If the days they seem to fall through you

Well, just let them go”

You hum along to your favorite Blur song, the eighth track on your CD.

“Did ya’ want another light in here?” Joel’s deep voice shocks you. You jump and spin staring wide at him leaning against the doorway. You don’t know how long he’s been there. “S’getting dark in here.”

“Joel! Y—yeah, that would be great. I just want to finish up the first outline tonight.”

Joel nods and heads over to the large cabinet in the corner and pulls out a work light as you turn back.

“This’ll help,” he grunts out as he plugs it in and turns it on. “It’s lookin’ really… nice so far.”

“Thanks, I love the process of beginning a large piece like this, it makes me so excited for what it’s going to look like when it’s all done. Breaking it down into small steps first and then once they’re all connected it makes one cohesive piece of art.” You’re talking too much again.

“No wonder Ellie’s always so excited about art, when you put it all that way.”

You nod without looking back at him, choosing to focus on your sketches. You wish you could just choose to stay quiet sometimes.

“Just going to be in the living room reading my book, lemme know if I can help.” Joel offers.

“Thanks.”

You hear him sigh as he sits down in his chair. The chair he can sit in and look at your mural, the chair he can sit in and watch you work. Your insides twist as you feel like you’re being watched by him, you like it.

You round each small petal making every flower perfect for Joel’s eyes.

Sometimes you hear a page turn in between tracks, sometimes you hear a sniff or a throat clear, you actually wish there wasn’t any music so you could only hear Joel.

— —

“Okay,” you step back from the wall shaking out and stretching your overused hand.

“Finished for the night?” Joel asks as he stands and walks into the room. “It’s really beautiful,” he says as he stares at your preliminary sketch.

“Thanks, there’s still a lot that has to be done, but I’m really happy with how it’s looking so far.” You back up to stand next to him. “When do you want me to come back?”

“Tommy and I’ll be on patrol tomorrow until Wednesday night, Thursday works?”

“Yep. Same time?”

“Same time. I’ll make dinner again.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“S’okay, I want to.”

“If you want to,” you say as you bend over to pick up your bag. “I’m going to head home. Close to my bed time.”

He watches as you blink your tired eyes. His mouth forming a half smile as he watches you hide a yawn.

Joel accompanies you to his front door. “G’night. See you Thursday.”

“Good luck on patrol. Good night.” You walk out of his house without looking back at him. Joel’s watching you again, you can feel it.

You go home with the wood smell of Joel’s workshop permeating your clothing and your skin. You sleep in your shirt because it smells like his home.

— —

Thursday, you find yourself at Joel’s in your overalls again. Though today you’re wearing your oversized flannel for warmth and shielding yourself and your box of paints under an umbrella from the pouring rain. Joel opens the door before you’re able to knock.

“Come in, was lookin’ for you so you didn’t get stuck in the rain,” he says as he grabs your umbrella and closes it.

“Thanks, it’s awful out. How was patrol?” You step into Joel’s house and take your flannel off.

“Same as usual.” Joel takes your jacket from you and hangs it up on the hook over his coat.

“Well, that’s a good thing,” you say as you walk into Joel’s woodworking room and place your paints on the floor.

“That your book?” Joel asks nodding to the faded black leather portfolio with tattered corners covered in faded stickers.

“Yeah, I brought it over.”

“Haven’t seen something like that in years. Can I look at ‘em?” Joel asks.

“Go ahead, find something to play. It’s your stereo. Don’t tell me what you pick, I’ll be surprised.”

You love hearing the soft thud of the page landing as Joel flips through it.

“Don’t recognize most of these names.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

You roll out your brush holder, picking out the brushes you’ll need.

“Rock, country, little bit of blues.”

“Country? Really? How typical Texas of you,” you joke.

“Good country. Real country. Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, ’n the like.”

“I stand corrected, Texas.”

“Hmm,” he grunts as you begin to lay your chosen paints on the countertop.

“Found something,” Joel says.

“Can’t wait to hear what you pick,” fishing your palette out of your bag.

Joel leaves the room with his chosen CD as you squeeze dollops of green out on to the palette.

A bluesy rock guitar intro with a steady drumbeat begins to play as you mix emerald and olive tones together.

“Haven’t heard this song in over 20 years,” Joel says as he walks back into the room. “Liked The Rolling Stones.”

You kneel on the floor to begin painting green stems. Slowly and smoothly raising your body up to finish each stem tip. You feel Joel’s gaze follow you.

“Never thought I’d see somebody paint like this again,” he says from the doorway.

“It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“Can tell.” The gentleness of his voice causing your skin to prickle. “M’excited to see how it’s going to look when it’s done.”

“Me too.”

You hear Joel take a deep breath. “I’m gonna go finish cleanin’ my guns,” he says with his exhale. “I’ll be in the dining room if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” you twist your torso to look back at him with a smile, paintbrush in hand as a large dollop of green drops on your exposed thigh. Joel’s eyes dart down to the blemish on your leg, his eyes widening as you grab your paint stained rag and wipe the paint off. He quickly realizes how hard he’s staring and strides away.

— —

“Hey, it’s pretty nasty out there, d’ya want that work light again? Sky’s gettin’ real dark,” Joel asks interrupting your focus.

“Yes, thank you,” you answer as your focus remains on the the petal you’re working on.

You hear Joel pull the light out, the same small grunt as yesterday leaving his mouth as he bends over to plug it in.

“You been kneeling on the floor like this for long?” he asks.

“Yep, it’s not so bad while down here.”

“Ya’ still have the hurt knees and you’re kneeling on the damn hardwood floor,” he mumbles as he leaves the room.

You’ve gotten used to people not concerning about such simple things like your personal comfort, Joel’s worry for you making you feel a foreign feeling.

He returns and holds a pillow out for you. “Here, grabbed ya’ this.”

“Oh, I’m okay, really, I don’t want to accidentally get paint on it.”

“Don’t care, take it,” he pressures.

You take the pillow, sticking it underneath your already aching knees.

“Feels much better, thank you,” you say as you wiggle back and forth on the fluffiness.

“Welcome.”

A large sigh leaving his pursed lips grabs your attention, and you turn to look up at him. His eyes look down at you, meeting yours, the hazel flecks glowing in the golden light supplied by the work lamp buzzing in the corner. He sticks his tongue out to wet his supple lips, you let your focus move down to watch. He reaches a hand out towards your cheek, and places his thumb on it, the rest of his fingers cradling your chin in his hand. Your lips part as you inhale deeply, a chill taking over your whole body. The music from the stereo beginning to sound like its playing underwater as all of your other senses dull themselves so you can feel Joel’s touch.

“Thank you again, for doing this for me,” Joel tenderly says. “Been thinking ‘bout how nice it’ll be to look over and see this once it’s finished… reminding me of home.”

“O-of course Texas,” you stutter. Your eyes still focused on his mouth.

“Mm,” he grunts at you, head slightly nodding.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

“Shit, I forgot this song always does that,” you say as he pulls his hand away.

“I got it.” Joel turns and quickly walks out of the room.

“You just have to skip to the next track and it should work!” You shout as your skin still tingles from where his hand rested silently cursing your scratched CD.

The track changes, the interruption long gone, just like Joel’s touch. You return to painting, calming your body and emotions in the aftermath. You don’t hear from him until well after the CD finishes and the house falls silent.

“Dinner’s ready,” Joel says rapping on the doorway shocking you out of your art trance. “You got a lot done, s’looking really good.” The shared moment the two of you had just an hour ago seems far away from Joel, so you try to do the same.

“Thanks,” you say standing up from your bent over stature and placing your paintbrush in the jar of water.

“Just come to the kitchen when you’re all done in here.”

— —

“Hope you like turkey and barley soup.”

“Any soup makes me happy.”

“Good,” he says putting a bowl down in front you. “This one I actually made, Maria didn’t hafta take pity on me for this meal.”

It looks delicious and smells divine. Joel’s set the table for you. A tattered cloth napkin folded underneath a soup spoon, a glass of water to the side, you notice the coffee stains have been wiped up.

You take a bite, the warm soup sliding down your throat, perfect for a chilly rainy day, it’s good. “Joel, this is… really, really delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it, haven’t cooked for anybody ‘cept Ellie in years.”

“You did boil me spaghetti earlier this week too.”

“Hmph,” he chuckles, “right.”

You and Joel quietly finish your dinner, hungry from your full day of work and painting. You should be nervous in this situation but the way Joel handles himself in front of you, as if he’s perfectly comfortable with you in his home makes your nerves quiet themselves.

“What was your favorite food before …everything?” you ask as you sit back in your chair.

“Don’t really know, maybe tamales? My mom used to make them every year for the holidays, I could eat six of them in one sitting.”

“I loved tamales, too. God, I miss Mexican restaurants. You know, I just remembered margaritas. I used to always see people drink them when we’d get Mexican and I always thought that looked so cool. I never got to try one.”

He gives you that same look he gives you, as if he could listen to you talk for hours. Nodding along with a half smile. “What was your favorite food?” he asks.

“Fettuccine Alfredo, one hundred percent. My mom used to make it for me every year for my birthday, if we went to an Italian restaurant, it’s what I’d always order, definitely Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“Never had it, always just stuck to pouring a jar of Ragu over spaghetti or a frozen lasagna.”

“I miss those too. I miss just being able to have cheese whenever I want so much. What we have now isn’t the same.”

“Mm,” Joel nods, “kinda like the ice cream we have. Not the same, but good enough.” “Isn’t that the motto of these times? ‘Not the same but good enough.’”

“S’a good one,” Joel pauses, “you’re funny.”

“Thanks,” you push a strand of hair behind your ear feeling Joel’s eyes follow your movements as he gets up.

You stand, grabbing your bowl to follow Joel over to the sink.

“You seem to be almost finished in there,” he grabs the bowl from your hand and deposits it into the sink.

“I am, I think I only have a couple more hours of work left.”

“Don’t want to keep you any longer tonight, know you got work tomorrow and know it’s a lot being down on the floor like that for as long you were.”

“Yeah, they’re aching. When do you want me to finish it?”

“Tomorrow at the same time, if you want.”

“That works, might be a little late. Fridays are always busy for me, with the end of the school week.”

“‘Course. I’ll be here, so take your time.”

“Is it okay if I leave my things in the room? If not, that’s okay too I can take them ho—”

“S’fine, don’t mind at all,” Joel interrupts as he puts his hand against your back, “I’ll walk you home, s’getting late and it’s still raining.”

“No, I’ll be okay, I’ve walked through much worse.”

“Don’t care. I’m walking you home, it’s pouring.”

He grabs your flannel from the hook, grasps the shoulders open and holds it out for you as he gives you a small nod. You smile as you walk forward and turn, sticking your arms in each sleeve, and putting it on.

“Thanks,” you murmur, goosebumps appearing on your skin from the closeness.

“Course,” Joel breathes out as you step away from him to grab your backpack.

“You really don’t have to d—“

“Now, stop telling me I don’t have to, I want to,” mild annoyance tinging his voice as he shrugs his jacket on and picks up your umbrella.

“Don’t you have one as well?”

“No, never got one.” Joel opens the door and motions you to go ahead of him. “S’a nasty storm today, I think it’s going to be just as bad tomorrow.”

“It’s good for the crops and the water reserve at least,” you shrug as Joel holds the umbrella over you.

Rain pelts Joel as he holds the umbrella over you as you turn onto the road.

“There’s enough room for both of us under here, there’s no sense in you getting soaked,” you say moving closer to his body.

“Y’sweet,” he faintly murmurs as he moves the umbrella over both of you. You almost think you imagined it, being able to barely hear it above the pitter patter of raindrops landing on the nylon atop your head.

The two of you walk towards your home, your bodies occasionally tapping against each other as Joel huddles over you. You wish you could walk slower, elongate your time next to him, stay under the security of the umbrella, next to his broad body you feel safe..

“That’s me, right there,” you say nodding your head towards your front door.

“Y’got a cat?” Joel asks as he sees your cat Penny sitting on your windowsill backlit by your lamp.

“Yeah, two of them. You like cats?”

“Even if I did, couldn’t have ‘em, allergic.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Hm.”

Underneath the safety of the awning of your front porch, Joel closes your umbrella and hands it to you as you tap your wet boots against your frayed welcome mat.

“Well, thank you again, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say as you rest your back against your front door.

“See you tomorrow,” Joel says as he peers into your eyes before turning around to leave.

You watch him leave your little yard, turning back around at your fencepost to nod at you before continuing down the road in the dark rain. Joel Miller just walked you home.

A/N: Oh soft Joel, you're too sweet and thoughtful. Next chapter is a little shorter, but for good reason, there may or may not be a finished mural and a first kiss. :) Thank you again for reading!

#joel miller/reader #joel miller #elks #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel tlou

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itsmealaiah · 2 months

Text

Secluded

TW: p in v sex, car sex, unprotected sex, one night stand-ish?, fingering, slight degrading/ dirty talk, AFAB reader, dom! bill, reader being a cumdump

Request: HEYYYYY LUV can we get a Bill Kaulitz smut where he’s an uber driver and reader (fem) is going to a party n stuff happens in the car? bill’s super flirty and touchy thankss xx

Rating: 18+, mdni

WC: 1.6k

As the last rays of the setting sun cast a warm, golden hue across the city, it was the perfect evening for a night out on the town. And that's exactly what you had planned. You had been invited to a party at one of your closest friends' places, and you were beyond excited. The only problem? You didn't have a ride. That's when you decided to take a gamble and use an app to summon an uber driver.

You waited outside, impatiently tapping your foot as you waited for the car to arrive. And then, finally, you saw the familiar logo appear on the horizon, growing larger and larger as it drew closer. The car pulled up, its sleek lines and shiny finish reflecting the streetlights, and out stepped none other than Bill Kaulitz himself.

He was dressed casually but stylishly, with a tight black t-shirt hugging his broad chest and a pair of faded jeans that hung low on his hips. His black hair was gorgeous, and he flashed you a charming smile as he approached. "Hey there, lovely lady," he said with a wink. "You must be y/n. I'm Bill. It's nice to meet you." His voice was smooth and musical, sending shivers down your spine.

You climbed into the backseat of his car, marveling at its cleanliness and the smell of his aftershave. "Thanks for the ride, Bill. I really appreciate it." You smiled, feeling a bit flustered by his good looks and charm.

He flashed you another one of those devastatingly handsome smiles and closed the door behind you. "No problem at all, y/n. It's my pleasure. Just let me know where we're headed, and I'll get us there in style." He started the car and pulled away from the curb, glancing over at you in the rearview mirror.

The ride was surprisingly smooth, and Bill seemed to know all the backroads and shortcuts through the city. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous, though. You were in a car with someone you didn't really know, and he was being so…touchy. Every time he brushed against you or caught your eye in the mirror, your heart would race a little faster.

"So, y/n," he said casually, "what do you do for fun? Any favorite hobbies or interests?" He kept his eyes on the road as he asked, but you could tell he was waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You hesitated for a moment, not quite sure how to respond. He was being so flirty, and you weren't quite sure if he was just being friendly or if he was actually interested in you. "Well," you began, trying to sound confident and cool, "I love going out with friends, dancing, that kind of thing. And I've always been really into art. I paint in my spare time."

Bill nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That's actually really cool. I've always wished I had more time for things like that. My schedule can be pretty crazy sometimes." He glanced over at you again, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But who knows, maybe one day I'll be able to sit down and paint with you."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment and his obvious flirtation. "Well, I'd like that, actually," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And maybe I could give you some tips or something."

As you continued to talk, he guided the car expertly through the darkened streets of the city, weaving in and out of alleyways and avoiding potholes with ease. Suddenly, he pulled the car into a deserted parking lot, the only light coming from a single, flickering streetlamp in the distance. You felt a mixture of surprise and nervousness wash over you as he turned off the engine and reached over to undo your seatbelt.

"Bill?" you said hesitantly, glancing around the empty lot. "What are we doing?"

He flashed you that devastatingly charming smile and leaned in close, his breath warm against your neck. "Oh, nothing much," he whispered. "I just thought we could have some fun." With a confident hand, he reached up and cupped your face, pulling you closer until your lips were mere inches apart. You could feel the heat emanating from his body, and your heart raced wildly in your chest.

Before you could even process what was happening, he'd undone your jeans and pushed them down your hips, revealing your lace black underwear. You gasped as he roughly tugged them to the side, burying his face in your neck and growling with desire. His hand found its way between your legs, and you moaned as he roughly fingered you through your underwear.

Heat spread through your body like wildfire as Bill's rough touch ignited every nerve ending. His fingers expertly teased and probed, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You arched your back, moaning loudly into the night as you felt yourself begin to lose control. The sound of your own desperation only seemed to fuel his passion, and he growled in approval as he slid a finger inside you. "Get in the back" he growled.

Shaking with need, you scrambled to undo the back of the car. The cold metal pressed against your back as you leaned against it, feeling every inch of his body as he pressed close behind you. His fingers continued to work their magic, and you could feel the tension building within you, threatening to break free at any moment.

With a groan, he lifted you up, pulling your underwear down your legs as he positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he thrust forward, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you arched your back, meeting his rhythm with your own.

His hands roamed over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples as he thrust into you. You felt your orgasm building, growing more intense with each passing second. Bill's breath came hot against your ear as he groaned in pleasure, his hips slamming harder against you. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the air, drowning out everything else around you.

The sensation of being so intimately connected to him was overwhelming, and you could feel your muscles tensing, preparing to release the wave of pleasure that was building inside you. You clung to him, digging your nails into his back as you arched your back, moaning his name.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. The cold metal of the car pressed against your back, adding another layer of sensation as he drove into you. You could feel the head of his cock brushing against something deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

With a growl, he pushed you down onto the hood of the car, still inside you. The impact sent a jolt through both of you, and he began to move faster, harder. You could feel your orgasm building, building, building, until finally it exploded around you in a wave of heat and pleasure. Your body tensed and spasmed as you came, and he followed you over the edge, groaning into your neck as he emptied himself inside you.

As your senses slowly began to return, you became aware of the cool air brushing against your damp skin, and the soft murmur of the city in the distance. You lay there, still connected to Bill, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back. He was hard again, and after a few moments, he began to move, slowly and methodically, pulling out and thrusting back in.

The pain of his rough movements sent a thrill through you, and you arched your back, meeting his rhythm. He growled in approval, his hands finding your breasts once more, squeezing and pinching them. You could feel your body starting to respond again, the tension building within you.

Bill's hips slammed into you, faster and harder this time, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he neared his release. You moaned his name, arching your back as the sensation of him filling you built to a fever pitch. With a final, desperate thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his hips snapping forward as he came, his hot seed spilling into you.

You could feel his weight pressing down on you, and for a moment, you thought he might collapse on top of you. But instead, he pulled out, his softening cock slipping free from your body. With a sigh, he leaned forward, kissing your neck and nibbling on your earlobe. "That was fun," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe we should do it again sometime."

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Maybe," you replied, though you knew there was no maybe about it. You wanted him to touch you again, to feel that connection with him. He leaned back, looking down at you, his eyes filled with desire. "But next time," he continued, "I want to take you somewhere really special."

He helped you to your feet, and you stood there, feeling slightly dazed and disoriented. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you rested your head against his chest. "Where could be more special than this?" you asked, looking around the dark, empty parking lot.

He smiled, kissing the top of your head. You climbed into the passenger seat, and he pulled the gearshift, beginning the drive to your friend's house once more.

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