#'he was just the actor its not his responsibility' PLEASE.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I didn't realize Alec Baldwin was on trial already but if he doesn't get found guilty .........

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

ok ok its my fault for being on reddit but r/houseofthedragon rn full of people arguing that demon and his 99% neck lizard have a stronger bond than aegon and sunfyre and it's so fucking frustrating that its entirely condolt's fucking fault that this is even a fucking argument because he thinks the greatest bond between a dragon and his rider to ever go that fucking hard in this universe is pRopaganda and gives dae mon and car ax es more screentime. i'm just so fucking done man. never showed us sunfyre TRULY until it was time for demon jr the anime edgelord to attack him and aegon, never get the fact that sunfyre is literally on aegon's arms, never got the coronation flying, DIDN'T GET ANYTHING UNTIL IT WAS TIME TO FUCK HIM UP FOR THE PLOT.

i wish this mf would get fucking fired before he has a chance to touch these two anymore because I don't think i can handle how he will underplay and butcher the fact that this dragon literally fought tooth and claw with a broken wing to find his way back to his rider.

[screampied]

❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami

☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.

wc. 5.9k

warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.

“annnnd action.”

you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.

“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”

you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”

“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”

“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.

the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”

“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .

the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.

nanami kento was as smooth as they come.

suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.

tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”

feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.

a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.

“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”

your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.

the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.

as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.

and now, it’s finally here.

it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.

your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue’s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.

a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.

he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”

“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.

toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.

with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.”

a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.

constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .

or is it?

you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.

fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.

toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.

nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.

“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.

“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.

now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.

to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.

and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.

his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.

“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”

“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.

with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.

you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.

that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.

nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.

slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.

with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.

their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.

both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.

nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.

that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.

“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.

toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.

once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.

you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.

toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”

nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”

“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.

you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.

you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.

your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.

“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.

with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.

your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”

“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.

your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.

your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.

“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.

“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.

they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.

that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.

“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.

“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.

the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.

you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.

you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.

but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.

it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.

your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.

“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.

so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.

“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.

god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.

immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”

toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.

you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.

“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.

the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.

the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.

raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”

since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.

“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.

toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.

your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”

“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.

your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.

it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.

toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.

he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.

“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”

“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.

toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.

more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.

toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.

by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.

“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.

more of you.

“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.

it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.

but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.

it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”

nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.

it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.

nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.

“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”

with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.

toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.

“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.

from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.

nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”

“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.

your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.

you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.

your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.

sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.

“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”

“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”

“but—”

“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”

as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”

“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”

you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”

“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”

nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.

“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”

[venusandsaturnsrings]

you sighed heavily, zoning out on some of the elaborate wallpaper in front of you as your friend chattered on enthusiastically at your side.

last week, they had burst into your workplace with an expression so anxious you had thought something was seriously wrong. they went on to elaborate that famous director mr. reca was on penacony and having a surprise casting call and, as a member of the iris family, they just needed to go and audition but the idea of standing in front of such a well known face in the cinema world had them more panicked than they’d ever been before. whining endlessly about how they were so very nervous but couldn’t possibly miss such an opportunity, you easily picked up what exactly they wanted; you to go with them. sighing you offered your companionship partially as a good friend and partially to make the other workers stop glaring daggers, you finally chased them out the door as they promised to meet you at the studio on the weekend.

now in a long line of other actors and actresses hoping to finally get a breakthrough part, the number pinned hastily to your chest was starting to irritate you on top of not wanting to be here in the first place. agreeing so quickly was looking more like a mistake as you were realizing you had no experience or anything prepared and you’d soon be standing in front of a man who’d scrutinize your every move; a real nightmare in the dream.

it took a surprisingly short amount of time for your friend to be whisked away into the audition room with its heavy soundproof doors and you had to stand alone coming to terms with how much of a fool you’d look like. a brief thought of running flitted through your brain as you nervously tapped your foot but before any commitment to bolting could arise, you were ushered in.

the room was elegant but felt unbelievably sterile with the marble floors and delicate chandelier. behind a large wooden table stacked with folders, notes, and expensive looking pens was the man you dreaded explaining this predicament to. with piercing eyes and a predatory smile, mr. reca seemed unnervingly interested in what you’d go on to show him; nothing, unfortunately. you took your place in the centre of the room and awkwardly cleared your throat before dumping a word vomit of an apology and explanation filled with ‘i can’t act for shit,’ and ‘i’m sorry for wasting your time.’ he nodded with a low hum and seemed almost sympathetic as he tapped a finger against his lips while thinking.

“you’re here now and your… appearance… seemed perfectly suited to a personal project of mine i can’t seem to get out of my head,” his smile was unnerving in a way, “humour me and try out a couple poses at the least. such a role would come with magnificent compensation.” not the response you expected but you figured he was owed something for such a fumble. upon your agreement he had you shift into numerous positions that made your face flush with embarrassment but mr. reca seemed beyond pleased if his praise meant anything.

“magnificent. please, i’d love to have you star in a this minor film of mine. such a project will only take a few afternoons and i’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

it’s the next week when you’re at his home. he welcomes you with a neat suffocating hug and offers numerous snacks and drinks as a show of good will. it’s quite charming until he takes you to where he’s set up for the first scenes.

the room is dim, lit by ambient lighting only and silk ribbons drape across the room. in the middle is a bed covered in luxurious sheets and soft blankets with a table on each side holding a variety of lewd toys; your face is warm. mr. reca cheerfully points to every object explaining the purpose and how it’ll be used after fiddling with all the different locks on the door to successfully trap you in. suddenly you feel sweaty and your chest is tight as you shiver uncontrollably. his personal film was an adult film. he dangles the previously signed contract over your head with a promise to publicly humiliate you if you don’t, “strip and put on these pieces,” a lacy pair of panties and a bra that hides nothing. he’s throwing a pair of stockings at your chest as well before making some adjustments on his camera. with no choice, you change and pray that this will be over soon but the sinking feeling in your gut says otherwise when you see he’s undressing as well.

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[kumabeom]

saudade love 🫧

pilot ; you’re my lover <3

pairing : actor!soobin and actress!yn

love triangles :(

synopsis : actress!yn and actor!soobin are forced by their companies to date as a publicity stunt to promote their latest releases. however what’s to happen when yn and soobin spend more and more time together even though yn’s closest friend is keeping secrets.

“last question..” the mc announces before letting a reporter take the lead on the final question.

“soobin and yn, throughout the filming process of saudade love. the two of you were rumored to be seeing each other as more than just friends, can we get some kind of response to that ?” the reporter in front of you asks. you and soobin sitting on a theater-like stage, two high chairs next to each other. while on the other side of the stage was the director of saudade love, and a few supporting cast members.

saudade love was the new film that you had just starred in, alongside soobin, who played the main male lead. the plot was a story about yn meeting chaebol soobin. issues arising within yn’s family, which end up harming her relationship with soobin. never being able to get an end to her family’s ruthless behavior towards her, she only seems to find comfort in soobin. soobin, who comes from a wealthy family, is forced into a marriage, any kind of rebellious actions from soobin during the wedding is covered up. soobin ends up giving in, yn ends up even more hurt as it gets harder and harder to keep their secretive relationship as a healthy relationship. however, the two still only seem to feel happy around each other, the only issue being each other’s families. yet it is enough to keep them apart.

you knew that there were going to be issues with your so-called ‘controversial’ ending, since it wasn’t necessarily a happy ending, not many people were too pleased. but there was another majority of people, or rather yours and soobins fans, that enjoyed the movie due to its rawness. not every single relationship was going to end in the most fairytale way. which was exactly what saudade love’s message was trying to deliver, although it seemed to go over others’ heads.

you laugh a bit into the microphone, knowing exactly what you were supposed to do and how your company wanted you to react. taking the microphone up close to your lips, not exactly letting the two touch. you put on a flushed image, as you turn to look to soobin, who also knew his part of the live script the two of you were supposed to follow. his lips turning upwards, attempting to look rather confident about the situation, and it was working.. after all he was an actor.

“me and soobin…” you pause, taking a second to smile to yourself. looking up instead of looking at the crowd full of photographers, reporters, and journalists, a few fans in the crowd as well. “i thought we had announced a response, but i suppose not. me and soobin have been seeing each other. something about us during filming saudade love.. it just seemed to click.. we’re a few dates into our relationship but i hope that everyone will support us and our decision to be together.”

and with that, the crowd cheers, journalists and reporters typing as quick as they can. photographers snapping their pictures to use on articles that are probably being released within the next second. soobin grinned, bringing his mic up to his mouth. the image of two lovestruck actors up on stage manipulating the minds of the entire media. you looked at soobin with a tiny smile on your face. putting your best heart eyes on display.

“i think the people who have seen saudade love will notice, but the love that the two characters display is not something you can act out..” it’s funny, because he’s completely spewing out nonsense. the two of you are just convincing actors, using all the skills you’ve learned to play out your character. “at one point during filming, i stopped thinking of the script and i just started seeing yn as yn, no character or anything. i think our relationship was inevitable. yn was the sweetest person i could ever meet.” that’s a lie, well you weren’t necessarily mean, but the two of you never even spoke outside of necessary means. “i turned to her when i needed help, and she was always there to listen. not to mention, anytime yn was around, i couldn’t help but feel a certain way..” soobin grinned shyly, trying to convince everyone that he was simply too shy to continue on. which worked as majority of the audience were in complete awe.

the mc picks up his own mic, “let’s give a round of applause to our newly discovered couple !!” he pauses letting the crowd take over with their clapping, “since that was our last question, the cast and crew will give their goodbyes now !”

you stood up along with everyone, giving a bow to thank the crowd for their time and attention. afterwards you link pinkies with soobin, attempting to keep up the image of the new shy couple.

release date: july 13, 24’

4th gen it couple ! ; little minions ! ; soobin’s fave brats !

episode 1 : i was hitting my marks !

episode 2 : thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me, counteract the chemistry and undo the destiny.

episode 3 : that’s my girl, y’know what i mean ?

episode 4 : and so it begins..

episode 5 : i’m gonna marry him !

episode 6 : we’ll make it through, just like we always do.

episode 7 : the thing..

episode 8 : the love of my life

episode 9 : red lipstick 💋

episode 10 : i know i shouldn’t

episode 11 : just a coworker

episode 12 : it meant the world

episode 13 : as slow as you’d like.

episode 14 : i just need a little lovin’

episode 15 : sometimes i laugh whenever im sad

episode 16 : late night mascara

episode 17 : i can do it with a broken heart

episode 18 : there’s so much loving we could be making

episode 19 : MY boyfriend

episode 20 : i know it’s probably much too late

episode 21 : drunken thoughts are sober thoughts

episode 22 : i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted

episode 23 : netizens are dumb

episode 24 : taehyun’s unprofessional plan

episode 25 : like we’re made of starlight ! ⭐️

episode 26 : hot people are intimidating

episode 27 : loving him was red

episode 28 : ‘cause i ain’t ever been more for real !

epilogue : saudade

an : AHHHH!! so happy to be back, i feel quite refreshed since im back after seeing txt…. three times 😁😁 BUT im so ready to put out posts, remember how i said i was gonna pre-write ? well that didn’t work out because i had like 0 inspiration, i feel like i work better under pressure…

taglist (send asks !) : @run2seob @soobadooba @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @wonjws @yourenzoo @missychief1404 @304blur @coconutjjun @theycallmelolla @natokkiz @everythingvirgoes @pinkhor1zon @nshitae @damn-u-min-yoongi @jiweok @wonderstrucktae @thing89 @pagetammgyu @virgo-and-libra @blossommi @cheekycountesschoi @taysfairies @20-cms @soobiluvr1205 @bloomngspring @thyunzzn @hyunj00 @yanagisprettygf @tkooooop @bamgeutori @sunooqvrlsx @flowzel @zeizeisjy

[johnbrand]

Prodigal Son

To read the first part, follow this link.

With @sjw-publishings

Alexander Carmen nervously followed the kind pastor through the back of the church. He did not feel unwelcome by any means, but certainly like he did not belong here. It was improper for someone like him to be able to see the inner workings of a church–as a gay man who enjoyed the worldly spoils, Alexander was practically stepping into enemy territory. But he dutifully kept speed with the Korean-American man just a few years his senior. 

The pastor had a run-of-the-mill, slightly older guy-next-door look that Alexander typically would have on the street passed by without giving a second thought. But his average qualities also had a certain flair, enough so that Alexander could see himself sporting a slight boner. And he had, their initial physical touch having sent a current from his shoulder straight down to his crotch. Luckily, his dick had since deflated from its excitement, the blood flow in his moving legs helping resolve the unfortunate issue.

“Please, brother,” Pastor Bang opened the door to a small office. “Take a seat in front of my desk and we can discuss your worries.”

Placing his firm grip on Alexander’s shoulder once more, the twink again felt the shiver of ecstasy course along his vein. He did his best to hide the boner awakening underneath his linen shorts.

Following the instruction politely, Alexander placed himself in the assigned chair. Typically, he acted out as quite the brat, one who liked to mess around and avoid orders as playfully as could be. He was one to tease, coyly flirt, and craft up anything necessary that could be complimented with a reaction. As a trouper, Alexander was a natural theatric, and in turn the world was his stage. Everyone had a part to play in relation to his flamboyant protagonist.

“I’m here searching for someone,” Alexander began, his plea whiny. “I just don’t know where he is and it’s freaking me out! I mean we were supposed to meet up thirty minutes ago, and I know that isn’t too long but then when I saw that he was here I got confused because I’d never heard of him being religious before. In fact, I’ve never even heard of this church before. I mean is the Covenant of the Brotherhood new? Anyway…”

Alexander continued to ramble on, taking in the room around him as he did so. The office was small, quaint, and only really held the necessary materials. A bookshelf containing theological literature, a single monitor at least ten years old, two degrees and a number of other certificates on the wall behind the pastor. The room was practically colorless, even the sole picture of Pastor Bang and (whom Alexander assumed to be) his girlfriend was printed in black and white. Eventually, Alexander realized he was still talking, and the pastor had not yet replied to him.

“Are you, are you going to say anything?” Alexander cut himself off, toying with his rainbow wristband. He was a bit dismayed that the other man had not yet made a response. 

Pastor Bang shrugged, indifferent. “Sounds like you are worried, brother.”

Alexander blinked. He tried to hold back the burst of red that threatened to color his olive cheeks. “Did you listen to a single thing I said?” Alexander thrived off of reactions, he practically centered his life around them. It influenced how he acted, influenced the manner in which he presented himself. It was why his voice held its signature nasally pitch, why he had dyed his hair platinum blond.

And yet, Pastor Bang offered him nothing. “Clarify for me, what are you so worried about?”

“I’m looking for John Brand,” Alexander spat loudly, as if he and the pastor spoke different languages.

“No need to waste your vocal chords unnecessarily.” The command was simple and direct, silencing Alexander. He was not used to being treated this way, engaging in such a manner. And yet, something about the simple anomaly roused Alexander. It also a-roused his dick, which throbbed lightly.

“I’m an actor,” Alexander seethed. “I know how to properly dictate.”

The pastor cocked his head innocently, “I believe you’re mistaken?”

This caught Alexander a bit, leaving his reply a bit staggered. “I have a theatre degree…?”

“It’s a diploma in Bible Studies, brother,” the pastor corrected. “And you haven’t graduated yet.”

“I um…” Alexander stuttered, suddenly bewildered. Was he not only a few years younger than the pastor? He was not still in school; he had graduated, had he not? But then again, why would Pastor Bang lead him astray? The man was eight years older than him, by that math eight years wiser.

“Oh yeah…my bad haha!” Alexander awkwardly chuckled, subtly palming himself under the table. For some reason, the strange moment had only further excited him. “But please, have you seen my boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend?” Pastor Bang's response was steady, as if the concept was impossible to him. “Do you mean your brother in the Covenant?”

Alexander's cock twitched. “Mmmyes daddy…” He moaned under his breath before suddenly catching himself. “-I mean my boyfriend! We are gay, pastor, we are both gay!”

“Brother, I know you’re happy to see me,” Pastor Bang misunderstood. “But now is not the time to use such language and act like the Prodigal Son.”

Alexander did not know how to reply without repeating his sexuality. But the words could not leave his mouth, it was too hard. His dick was too hard. Alexander could feel it writhing within his jockstrap.

“I believe you are worried about other things,” the pastor continued. “You already have a lot on your plate outside of our church. Admittedly the typical of every other Asian-American boy your age: the straight A GPA, jogging sessions, intramural soccer. But presenting for the Youth Ministry should be your passion.”

The sudden intake of information overwhelmed Alexander. The foreign existential weight piled up, burdening him under its sheer power. These new facts barged in upon the young man without any warning, forcing an evacuation of sorts within Alexander's mind. It made him dizzy. Alexander suddenly felt the need to escape.

“Uhhh, Pastor Bang, thanks for your guidance!” Alexander sputtered out, his blood coursing south as if his heart had suddenly moved to his pouch. “I have to uhh…go to the restroom, duty calls!”

“That’s alright, brother,” Pastor Bang extended his hand. “I need to practice for my upcoming sermon anyway.”

Quickly, Alexander accepted the firm shake. An electric surge shot across his entire body, delivering bliss to every one of his nerves and dulling his wristband into a modern, ordinary watch. Alexander's manhood was calling for him, begging to be touched with the hand he had just offered to Pastor Bang. Without waiting a moment longer, he made a beeline to the restroom, not questioning how he knew the way. Within moments Alexander was locked into a stall, so hot and flustered that he considered removing his tee shirt.

“Can’t resist…so good,” Alexander grunted softly. Carefully, Alexander gripped himself, the immense pleasure nearly paralyzing him. “Pastor Bang is…mmmmf…”

As if having heard his name, the shepherding tone of the pastor began to broadcast into the restroom. Pastor Bang, having returned to the altar in the main hall, had begun practicing his sermon. And with the speaker system live, his words were able to echo clearly throughout the entire church.

Alexander groaned as the paternal voice rang out within the restroom. His manhood was sandwiched between his legs, begging for release and yet not being granted it. Something was holding Alexander back, but he could not understand what. It was as if the appendages were built for other purposes, their length and lean muscle holding other obligations. His legs were meant for a goalkeeper–on the field and in real life. And the two extra inches of height that pushed Alexander over the average signified that he was meant to set an example without standing apart from his fellow brother.

“I need to…need to pull up something,” Alexander said to himself, grabbing his phone. In seconds, he had clicked on a bookmark for one of his favorite porn videos. But instead of two men wrapped together, his phone presented him with two men standing apart, fully clothed. Speaking on the roles of masculinity as determined in the Bible.

“Didn’t I have some-” Alexander could no longer identify what he had been trying to find. “-fun videos or something?”

“Brothers are expected to help one another physically and emotionally, but not romantically,” Pastor Bang’s voice suddenly filled the room. Alexander grunted, his vocal tone dropping a touch and sneaking farther back into his throat. His fingers messily tapped away at his device, lengthening into more robust digits as they searched for other materials to work with. His documents tab was filled with highly-graded papers, his emails a mix of project assignments and group collaborations.

“Don’t I have photos I could use, man?” Alexander asked himself, his voice now holding a youthful maturity that mimicked the pastor’s. He desperately continued to scroll through his phone, his arms tensing and relaxing as their muscles expanded slightly. Not to an egregious amount, but just enough to fit in with his peers, just like his clean-cut, trusty phone did.

“Man, who are these people?” Alexander blinked, his gallery filled with many of the same individuals. He was not expecting most of the pictures to be of him out on the soccer field, around a college campus, and at Youth Ministry. Nor was he expecting them to be filled with the same Asian-American men, all practical copies of each other besides the slightest differences. It took Alexander a moment to even find himself in some of them. His own lemony skin had the same hue as the rest of the men, his smaller eyes identical to the crew's. Even their frames were alike, not a single chest broader or pack of abdominals more prominent. 

“Can’t believe I forgot about my guys, man!” Alexander chuckle was friendly. “No homo though!”

The last phrase blurted out on its own, but Alexander was too captivated in his screen to realize it. His manhood enjoyed the remark however, perking up to be just large enough to fulfill its new role. Or rather, its traditional role. Consequently, Alexander’s bubble butt deflated into two flattened mounds, their responsibilities stripped away.

Eventually, Alexander landed on an album filled with selfies of him and another person. A lady friend of his own age, who with her Asian-American beauty complimented him nicely.

“Man, who is she…?” Alexander rubbed the back of his head shyly, the raven, feathered curtain bangs tickling his fingers. “She’s…kinda cute mannn…”

With that realization, Alexander’s manhood trembled in great force. He instinctively knew what to do, but as his hand made its way down to the straight-fit joggers encasing his legs, Alexander found himself lost. He needed to do something, but Alexander could not recall what. He could remember his younger peers had mentioned something before that required his hands. Was it assisting in some kind of job? Or something about being “a jerk off”?

“I gotta grip my pen…pen…!” Alexander suffered to get the word out of his mouth. It was right on the tip of his tongue.

“And us men shall be abstinent until the day of marriage with our wives.” Pastor Bang announced as he concluded his sermon.

“...gotta grip my pen-dant!” Alexander exclaimed. With one hand on his quarter-zip, he shoved the other underneath the sweater and pulled out his cross pendant, holding it firmly. With his free hand, and in pure euphoria, Alexander moved his zipper back and forth along its tread. Up and down, up and down. He could feel himself getting close, approaching something incredible. His manhood was throbbing as he approached a breaking point.

Out of nowhere, a knock came onto the stall door. “Everything okay, brother?” Pastor Bang asked.

“Mmmmf yes...Father!” A rush of spiritual ecstasy cascaded over the young man, for no physical outburst was necessary to solidify his glorious transformation. Once the wave had dissipated, the young man stood up and opened the stall door. 

“Sorry Pastor Bang,” the handsome, yet rather standard young Chinese-American man began.

“All good, brother,” Pastor Bang smiled. “I was just checking in to see if you were still worried about the presentation?”

“I was just texting my girlfriend to see if she could make it." The young man approached the sinks, checking himself out momentarily in the mirror. Carefully, he pulled his zipper up to the top of its track. After all, he had to maintain the role of a cool big brother; he did not want to be scandalous in front of the students. "It will be my fiftieth presentation for the Youth Ministries!”

Proudly, the young man left the restroom and ventured forth to his classroom. Once inside, he was greeted by his many students–a group of rowdy Asian-American boys–and Anna, his beautiful girlfriend since high school, sitting behind the teacher's desk.

“Ay-Ay Ron!” one of the backsliders shouted, and soon the whole class joined in a boisterous chorus. The young man smiled and exchanged a look with his girlfriend, knowing his Anna was not fond of the silly nickname.

“About time you got here, Aaron,” Anna greeted him with a peck on the cheek. “Leaving me all alone for so long with these guys is quite the hassle.”

“Ooommf…haha sorry sweetheart.” Aaron cheekily rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing his inflated manhood between his thighs. “Cannot help myself from being a goofball every now and then–just like my students!”

Aaron’s manly, yet cute chuckle was the kind that made everyone want to be just like him. A typical college student, one with the crowd, blending in with his brothers and talking about the simple things that excited them. Without delaying any longer, Aaron booted up his monitor and the projector, his presentation soon lighting up on the wall behind him.

“As you all know, my name is Aaron Chang,” Aaron started. “And for my fiftieth presentation, I'll be discussing: ‘Aaron Chang-ing Lives; For the Better, For the Hetter’!”

[teeskzagain]

Sneak Peek

˚‧‿₊୨୧₊You're Such A Brat₊ ˚‧୧₊︵‧ ˚ ₊

» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader

» summary: since high school, park sunghoon has been the absolute bane of your existence. you’ve always viewed him as a stuck-up snob, and he has always seen you as a whiny brat. you aren’t sure why your mother still thinks of you two as friends, you can hardly stand being in the same room as each other. while at home from college one night, your mother surprises you with news of a work event she and mrs. park will be attending. the catcher? mrs. park’s nightmare of a son is going to be forced to spend the evening at your house…..

» warnings: college au, lots of arguments- especially in this snippet, no explicit smut: refer to here for smut warnings

» w.c: ~ 830

» a/n: um so let's not talk about how late the release of this fic is....but it is nearly finished. please expect it within the next coming days. in the meantime, enjoy this sneak peek.

» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog

Minutes turn into over an hour this movie has been on, and both you and Sunghoon have managed to not get into a single argument. You aren’t sure when the last instance of this was. Elementary, maybe? Regardless, you’re at ease.

Your arm is propping your head up as you watch the characters on screen. The movie, though you never asked for its name, was some romantic comedy. You picked up on this fact a few minutes into watching it. And, wow, were they intense on the romance.

You couldn’t even count the amount of make-outs that has happened since you’ve been watching. You almost want to say 8 so far- oh, make it 9 now.

The lead characters are on their 9th kissing scene, stumbling around and fondling one another in the bathroom at some house party. You watch closely, part of your brain now heightened. The male actor is kissing the female until her ass touches the sink, and then he’s hoisting her up so she can sit on the counter.

Your face contorts unpleasantly. The scene further plays out to where the girl is begging the man for sex, desperate to have him inside of her, and you feel your mouth go dry.

This is beginning to hit a little too close to home for your likings, with a dusted memory you swore to bury attempting to resurface. You push the thoughts aways. Not now.

Trying to ignore the random squeeze your legs do, you tell yourself to ignore the familiarities and simply focus on the movie. However, at the moment the man grips the the women’s throat and she moans intensely, you nearly freeze. Yeah, you can’t watch this anymore.

With an airy voice, you keep your eyes fixed on the T.V to seem passive, “Change it to something else.”

“What?” Sunghoon doesn’t glance over to you, also keeping his gaze forward, “Why?”

You scoff lightly. Why can’t he just listen to you? What’s with the interrogation? “You always ask so many questions. Just change it.”

To that he responds with nothing. You’re not giving him a proper response, so why should he listen to you? He remains engrossed in the movie.

When a few notable beats pass, you crane your neck over to his direction with a scrunched faced, “Yah. Did you hear me? I said put on something else.”

He briskly whips his head to meet your eyes, his dark eyes boring harshly, “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not changing it.”

Fed up with him, you reach over to grab the remote when he obtains it first. You glare menacingly at Sunghoon while he mocks your expression, then holds the remote high above, taunting you. The way his slender fingers are gripping it tight only fuels your anger.

“Don’t piss me off.” You warn with undertones of a threat, as you climb over him to reach for the device. He extends it further away from your grasp.

“Or what?”

Bobbing the remote over your head, he just knew you were going to lose your cool at some point. That’s what all whiny brats do when they never get their way; they throw tantrums.

“Just fucking put on something else!” You scream, fighting him for the remote.

You don’t care if you can feel your shorts start to ride up into your butt, or if your boobs are being shoved up against Sunghoon’s body. You don’t care that you’re basically on top of him, trying to win this remote, because all rationality has exited your head.

You ask him to do one simple thing, and he fucking couldn’t. Then, he wants to tease you and make fun of you? You tried. You think back to your mother’s message, and in your mind the exchange begins to burn. You really fucking tried, but this…arrogant bastard just always makes it so damn hard.

He backs his head up from your chest, the wrestling now starting to get to him, “What the fuck is your deal? You’re telling me your whore ass can’t handle one god damn sex scene?”

This time you don’t say anything back to him. Instead your intention remains on getting the fucking remote. He takes your lack of response as an opportunity to dig further at you.

“Really? You’re going to act like that?” He spews out more comments while continuously keeping the control from getting in your reach, “I find it hard to believe you’re freaking out-”

“Damn brat. You’ve been needing this fucking for a long time, haven’t you?”

At the line of dialogue, Sunghoon shifts his attention towards the scene being played out, one of which the girl is now bent over the sink with the man pounding roughly into her backside. And with the combination of the man’s words and the stimulating scene, his eyes widen as he finally realizes what the core problem is.

.....and stayed tuned for the rest.

[go-see-a-starwar]

Christensen opened up on his time in the galaxy far, far away. “It’s been a remarkable experience. And just a very heartwarming one,” he tells Empire. “The journey that I’ve been on with Star Wars over the last 20 plus years... it’s been a wild ride, and where we’re at now is really meaningful to me.” While the backlash against the prequels was difficult to take, he’s pleased to see how beloved all three films are today. “I think that those movies have held up well over time,” he says. “It feels like vindication for the work that we did. Everyone that worked on those movies thought that we were part of something special. We all wanted to do our very best work, and we cared a lot about it. And so to see the response from the fans now, it’s very cool.” That response includes excitement from younger fans – who are always thrilled to meet the man who… well, murdered all the Jedi younglings in Revenge Of The Sith. “There was a lot of talk about us doing that scene, and I love that George did it. It was a bold move. And it’s shocking,” the actor says. “Kids seem to forget about that scene when they meet me! There’s not any fear or intimidation. They’re just excited to meet Anakin.” Having ridden out the stormy reception to the prequels – and returned to the Star Wars galaxy in recent years for appearances in Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka – Christensen reflected on the advice that he would give to his younger self before stepping into Attack Of The Clones. “Even though I was a bit overwhelmed, I was also a confident young man, and I wanted to make my mark. But I guess if I were to have some advice for me during that general time in my life, it would be: ‘Patience’,” he decides. “Because my journey with the character and with Star Wars has at times been a bumpy one... but I’m in a good place with it now. And so that’s why I say patience.” In 2024, there’s undoubtedly balance to the Force.

Excerpt of Hayden Christensen’s interview with Empire Magazine for its Prequels’ 25th Anniversary special issue

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Wriothesley — and his sudden favoritism

cw: spoilers for wriothesley's story quest, alludes to nsfw but no actual nsfw, lets pretend the Beret Society lounge is somewhere more hidden

an: im so tired and sleepy from uni but my wriothesley brainrot surpasses all human limitations

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

You've been aware of that for as long as you've stayed in the Fortress of Meropide. The Duke is just. He treats everyone equally, whether it be guards or prisoners. He'd never be on you as long as you get your job done and stay out of trouble.

That's why you didn't buy his words as you stood by his side, Dougier looking at you with a subtle threatening glare, one that shook you to your core unbeknownst to the Duke.

"You've been spending much time with them, Your Grace," Dougier spoke, his tone friendly, and so was the smile on his face, a demeanor that is foreign to you. "I just can't help but worry. After all, she's part of my precious society."

His words were laced with practiced concern, but you knew it was a thinly-veiled threat. Don't you dare blabber to His Grace.

"No need to worry," Wriothesley reassured with a calm tone and a smile, looking over at you, not bothering to hide the suggestive tone of his voice.

"They've just become my favorite, that's all."

Bullshit.

You can see the strained smile on Dougier's face as he said that, and you were powerless against these authoritative figures. One slip-up and you'll be censured by Dougier, and who knows what His Grace would do if he's the one you pissed off?

It was evident to you and Doougier what Wriothesley wanted from you, but neither you nor Dougier could ever hope to go against the Duke. Dougier isn't quite ready for that just yet.

"You don't mind, do you?" Wriothesley added, not even bothering to hide his threatening tone, and Dougier had no choice but to shake his head no.

"Good." Wriothesley seemed pleased with that, turning to face you with a smile on his face, his fingers brushing against your arm, tapping a pattern against your skin before whispering an "I'll see you around," loud enough for Dougier to hear, leaning back and his eyes meeting yours as if waiting for your response.

You only stare back at him, unsure of what to think about the sudden turn of events, and sensing that he wouldn't get a response, the Duke then turns to leave.

Ever since that day, much to Dougier's annoyance, he can no longer keep you in the abandoned zone that he has transformed into his base. Not with the Duke popping up randomly in the Beret Society lounge to ask for you every time.

And so, whenever Wriothesley graced your presence, his focus seemed to be effortlessly drawn toward you, his intentions leaving no room for subtlety even in the company of the other members—actors that Dougier planted to keep up the facade of the Society.

While you didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, a twinge of curiosity tugged at the corners of your mind; so many questions often danced in your thoughts, like a hidden undercurrent beneath calm waters weaving its way through your mind as you pondered the enigma that is the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide.

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

Wriothesley wouldn't just randomly start flirting with one of the inmates, knowing full well the power imbalance between them.

Surely, he doesn't want to get in your pants that badly?

This went on for a few days, Wriothesley would pop up, and you'd be there with some random member Dougier likely had tasked to ensure you wouldn't be spilling the beans to the Duke.

Until one day, surprisingly, there wasn't anyone else.

Still, the camera behind you was more than enough to keep you glued to the couch as Wriothesley enters.

The lounge lay silent, its once bustling atmosphere now empty, save for Wriothesley and yourself. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, a mix of curiosity and anticipation filling the air.

"No one else today?" he muses, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue.

"No, no one else," you confirm, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the Duke's undivided attention fixed upon you.

"Finally, our lucky day, huh?"

His words hang in the air, and before you can even respond, Wriothesley seizes the opportunity without hesitation.

In one swift motion, he lunges towards you, catching you off guard. Your body is pressed against the soft cushions of the couch while he looms above you, his presence consuming every inch of your being. His arms encircle you, caging you in a position that renders you breathless as you look up at him in surprise.

"I've seen the way you look at me," Wriothesley purred, his voice a seductive melody sending shivers down your spine. The raw desire in his tone leaves no room for doubt, and you find yourself rendered speechless, your widened eyes locked with his.

As he starts to lean closer, a sharp intake of breath escapes your lips, swallowing thickly, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. The gentle caress of his lips against the delicate curve of your ear sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body, awakening every nerve. His voice, a velvet whisper, dances across your senses, but his words make your eyes snap open, pulling you out of your fantasy.

"Does it have a microphone?" He asks, his question delivered with a hushed tone that matches the closeness of his presence. The warmth of his breath grazes against your skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. Sensing your confusion at his question, he then added.

"The camera." He whispers, and you are even more surprised he was aware of it. "Does it have a microphone?"

"No... no, it doesn't." You whisper back,

"Can it see us right now?" He asks, voice much louder this time,

"Not fully, no." You respond, "Only you hunched over me, probably."

"Is he watching right now?"

"Y-Your Grace... I..."

"Dougier." Wriothesley's tone is more firm, "Is he watching right now?"

"He always is,"

A subtle shift in his position brings his nose tantalizingly close to the delicate expanse of your neck. His warm breath creates a delicate dance against your skin, refraining from making direct contact.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice laced with a hint of concern. The question hangs in the air, causing you to inhale sharply, the sensation of his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Your Grace.... I don't understand..."

"I apologize for my behavior the past week." Wriothesley's tone is genuine as he apologizes, pulling away just enough for his icy gaze to meet yours. "I couldn't think of a way to talk to you while making sure Dougier wouldn't butt in halfway through."

He pulls back even more, his thighs now straddling your hips. His hands gracefully find their way to his tie, fingers deftly tugging at the fabric as he deliberately makes a show of loosening it. The tie slips from his grasp, cascading down to the floor, as his eyes remain locked with yours.

He dives back in, his face inches away from yours, and his warm breath dances along the surface of your skin, deliberately fooling Dougier from the other end of the camera, making him think that something is going on.

"As I said, I've seen the way you look at me," He repeats that phrase once again, shifting his position on top of you.

"You're always looking at me like there's something you wish to say, but you keep hesitating. Upon further investigation, I've noticed your gaze intensifies whenever Dougier is near you, but so does the fear in your eyes."

Your breath gets caught in your throat at his words, staring at him with a mix of surprise and amazement. You've been having thoughts of blowing Dougier's cover time and time again. You frequently see the Duke walking around the Fortress, and every time you do, you have the urge to approach him and just tell him what's been going on.

But you've always had your reservations. Dougier has some of the guards in his pockets, and Wriothesley supports the Beret Society, doesn't he? What if he doesn't believe you and tells Dougier about your attempts?

Just the thought of being caught and censured is enough to keep you to yourself, mouth shut tight like an obedient dog at Dougier's heel, looking longingly at the one person who can put a stop to your suffering and that of many others.

Unbeknownst to you, with every fleeting glance you cast upon Wriothesley, his icy gaze would return yours, a silent confusion and curiosity etched upon his face.

He wondered why your eyes carry an unspoken weight of perpetual struggle, as if drowning in an unseen tide. And he felt an inexplicable pull to extend a lifeline, offer solace, and rescue from the depths in which you've found yourself in.

Which brought you to your position now.

"I tried to send you subtle signs, waiting for you to approach me.." Wriothesley trails off before chuckling and shaking his head in light amusement. You blink at his words, that fateful day flashing back in your mind. The warmth of his hand against the skin of your arm, his fingers tapping against your skin. You hadn't noticed it then, but you do now.

Three short taps. Three long taps. Three short taps.

SOS

The look of bewilderment is obvious from the way your eyes widened. He'd been planning this from the start.

"I thought of taking you to talk in my office, but Dougier might get suspicious," he adds, his body shifting once again to keep up the act of something intimate happening. "Eventually, I knew I couldn't leave you to your own anymore."

Your gaze remains locked with his, and his own looks back at you with a mix of determination and warmth, wanting to reassure you and show you his determination at the same time.

"Tell me what's going on." He whispers, but his voice isn't a command. It was soft, still firm, but more on trying to reassure you than command you to do anything.

"Tell me everything, and I'll do all I can for you."

You find yourself gazing upwards, immersed in the shadowy depths, your eyes fixated on Wriothesley's figure. From the murky abyss, a hand stretches towards you, a lifeline amidst the suffocating darkness, beckoning you to resurface and breathe freely once more.

Yet, a hesitant pause lingers. Uncertainty clings to your heart like a fragile, delicate whisper that holds you captive, urging you to pause and consider the consequences.

Wriothesley, ever perceptive, notices your hesitance. He understands, all too well, that you can't save those who do not wish to be saved. Yet, he refuses to let go. With determination, he fights against the current, reaching out desperately, unwilling to let you slip through his fingers and deeper into the abyss.

"Tell me what it is that you're terrified of.." Wriothesely urges.

"No matter what or who it is, they will no longer be able to hurt you. I swear to you, on my name and honor as the Duke."

And finally, Wriothesley watches as with a trembling hand, you reach out to grasp his, intertwining your fingers, releasing the weight that had burdened your shoulders for far too long. It is as if he had lifted the weight of the world from your very being

He ignores the way his heart flutters at the sight of relief in your gaze, the edges of your lips turning up to a genuine, relieved smile, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

"The Beret Society... Dougier... it isn't what it seems to be."

Finally, you poured your heart out to him, telling him what's been happening under his nose.

[hopelesslyprosaic]

I feel like The Six Napoleons is one of the best Granada episodes, and part of why is, of course, That Scene.

By which of course I mean this one:

All genius, but of course, even more specifically, the bit starting at about 5:52. You know the scene I mean, and if you don't by all means watch it!

Honestly, it's an in-a-nutshell demonstration of the greatness of both canon and the Granada adaptation.

Here's the scene from the book:

“Well,” said Lestrade, “I’ve seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. Holmes, but I don’t know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one than that. We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand.” “Thank you!” said Holmes. “Thank you!” and as he turned away it seemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than I had ever seen him. A moment later he was the cold and practical thinker once more. “Put the pearl in the safe, Watson,” said he, “and get out the papers of the Conk-Singleton forgery case. Goodbye, Lestrade. If any little problem comes your way I shall be happy, if I can, to give you a hint or two as to its solution.”

And here's the dialogue from the show:

Lestrade: I’ve seen you handle a good many cases in my time, but I don’t know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one than this. We’re not jealous of you, you know, at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand. Holmes: Thank you! Thank you! Would you get down the Conk-Singleton forgery case please, Watson? Goodbye, Lestrade. If any little problem comes your way I shall be happy, if I can, to give you a hint or two as to its solution.

Not many differences! ACD knew what he was doing- he knew how to write a good yarn, he knew how to write good characters, and he knew how to write a good interaction. Granada wasn't filmed in canon order, so we don't get to see the progression of Holmes's relationship with Lestrade per se, but after a number of excellent, more "foiled again!" type Holmes-Lestrade interactions since A Study in Scarlet, ACD decided to do something cool and different here and pulled it off beautifully.

And when the director and writer of this Granada episode put this one together, they decided that the relationship between Holmes and Lestrade should be a focal point in this episode, and not only did they barely need to change a dang thing in the ending to do it, what small things they did change were all beautifully in the service of the tone of the original ending, taking advantage of the brilliant material they had to work with. I was just relistening to the excellent episode of the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes Podcast discussing The Six Napoleons, and one of them points out that one of the few text changes is removing the word "very"- going from "we are very proud of you" to "we are proud of you." And it works so well- it accentuates the contrast with the previous suggested notion that they would otherwise be jealous, between what Holmes might have expected to hear (and, indeed, perhaps expected to WANT to hear) and the actuality, and how much more meaningful it turns out that is to Holmes.

The creators here- and I of course include the actors, as both Colin Jeavons and Jeremy Brett act the fuck out of this- are so smart with how they pull this off. They know that what they have on the page is gold, but they also know how they can buff it up for a stronger shine. They know that Brett will absolutely eat up all of ACD's stage directions about his response, he knows the character inside and out at this stage, so let's keep the scene the way it is and, instead, build the rest of the episode around setting up this scene in such a way that it will have maximum impact as written.

There is one thing that is added- and that's the handshake at the end, that Holmes offers to Lestrade. We don't know what happens after Holmes's final words in the story, but in the episode, the physical acting continues telling the story only implied in the text of the short story- Lestrade is a bit thrown by Holmes's reversion back to his old, casually cutting self, but rolls with it, only for Holmes to extend his hand to him. Lestrade seems, even, slightly surprised- this is, perhaps, Holmes's rare gesture of pride in him.

[bluemantics]

here’s a list of all my fics! i won’t be able to post and reblog much since I’m traveling the next week and a half, so I’ll compile all my works here in the meantime :-)

will also update this list as i write more!

klance:

midnight snacks don't exist in space

G | 1.7K | RP/BP dynamics

There are no rules about eating at 3:00 AM if you're in the far reaches of the universe.

In a bright kitchen while the team is asleep, Lance and Keith find each other, as they always do.

Why We Fight

T | 5.7K | truth-telling au

With the Rebels in need of resources, the team ventures to a planet known for its raw materials in hope that they'll join the coalition. Here's the thing: they need to prove that they can be trusted by telling the truth about why they fight.

Lance finds this more difficult to voice than the others. Unfortunately (thankfully), Keith has returned from the Blade and is more than willing to listen.

"This is bigger than any of us alone."

A Keith By Any Other Name

T | 8.2K | coffee shop rom-com AU

Lance McClain was dared to hit on Keith. Keith thought that’d be the first and last time they’d meet. However, Lance keeps coming back, charming Keith with his jokes and charisma.

Here’s the catch: Keith refuses to tell Lance his real name.

“I’m not telling you my name unless you order and move on.” Keith pointed to the register screen.

“Alright, I’ll do a cappuccino.” Lance pulled out his wallet from his jacket pocket and slid his card over to Keith. “Now will you tell me your name?”

“My name is Yorak.” Keith passed the card back to Lance, who looked shocked at that answer, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. Keith was beginning to realize how dramatic Lance could be.

“Really?!” Lance demanded. He looked pityingly at Keith, and irritation welled up in his gut.

“No!” Keith rolled his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” Lance huffed.

a billion light years from here

T | 8.5K | post-canon fix-it

Keith and Lance reconnect over letters. Through their writing, Keith learns to open up, and Lance learns what a home is.

"For all the game I talked on the castleship about missing home, now that I’m back on my family farm, I kind of feel like there’s something missing. Like, even surrounded by all of the juniberry flowers Allura gave us, and even with my parents, I still feel lonely. Or restless."

Or: A post s-8 fix-it AU told entirely through letters between Lance and Keith, both sent and unsent.

out of my head

G | 1.2K | high school au

Keith didn’t even want to watch the spring musical auditions. Forced by Pidge to accompany them, he finds himself surprised at the talent of a particular actor. He also finds himself surprised by his own response. 

OR:

Lance is ridiculously good at singing and Keith is a lovable, impulsive jock.

baptism by fire

T | 1.5K | canon-compliant angst

Prompt: write a private scene between two characters with no dialogue, of just them two alone.

Lance just witnessed the unthinkable. Keith offers his company in wake of the tragedy.

kiribaku:

unstoppably, immovably, unbreakably you

G | 651 | canon-compliant

A character study.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

Katsuki Bakugou’s hand implodes against Eijirou Kirishima’s arm; a flurry of sparks surround them with a sound that rings between his skull.

This is something he knows how to do well. With every blow that Katsuki unleashes, he feels Kirishima retaliate with more, responding like a dance to his every movement. Katsuki is a fine-tuned instrument of destruction, every muscle on his body worked with the intention of winning.

as always please let me know what u think thru asks & comments on ao3!! ill answer asks between travel, but im going to frequently be in spotty service.

[bunnybunbun0]

Can you please write a Michael smut where he takes readers virginity with a lot of praise or mutual masterbation please plz

TO DE-STRESS A FRIEND

Anon,that ask rocked my shit! and lucky you i love writing about virginity loss! hope you like it! <3

Summary: Living the life of a young adult was stressing you out,you needed your best friend Mike to help you relax

Warnings: Smut , minors DNI,unprotected sex,fingering,virginity loss,mutual masturbation,afab!reader,let me know if i forget any.

You are responsible for your media comsumption.

You swear that one of these days you will make it to the front page of the news,the headboard will say "local college girl goes insane".

The stress were just over the board for you,the pressure at college,maintaining a minimun wage job to pay rent of the cubicle appartment you called a home. You needed to relax. So you just did the best thing you thought off.

"Hey,i picked up pizza!" Mike greeted at the door with a smile as you let him in.

Mike has always been your best friend,he was the only one that would be kind to you when you had to change schools for junior year,and youve been inseparable since,it was weird to see one without the other,and all you needed to calm yourself down were your best friend.

"Thank god you´re here! i think i´m gonna explode!."

You sank yourself on your old couch on the small living room sighing deeply,hearing Mike´s chuckle from the kitchen as he fetched you both plates for the cheesy delight.

"Relax,two more years and youll have your degree." He smiled at you with those sweet brown puppy eyes that could easily melt your heart.

You´ve been into Mike since the first homecoming you two attended together,its been you two in all events since,graduations,proms,homecomings,halloween parties,always matching outfits and always glued to one another.

As just friends of course! It´d be way too awkward to ruin the best friendship you ever had,but the caring way mike always made those nights special for you,even tho he thinks they´re lame,he always proteced you from creepy guys and mean girls at school,he listened to you ramble about your interests,he made you feel confortable and safe,and happy...

...but just as friends of course!

"Ugh,all that suffering for a lousy piece of paper!" You reflect while getting your plate of pizza (your favourite flavour of course,mike always remembered which one it is) "Just pop in the movie already!"

You took a bite of your dinner and watched as mike popped the cd on,then sitting by your side while the movie started.It wasnt a very interesting one but it was good enough to keep you both entertained. Your leg lazily hung on top of michaels and the mood was peaceful,until it wasnt.

You knew this movie were r-rated,but you didnt expect to see that,that one hot actor that been distracting you the whole movie is the one getting it on in the scene,you squirm a little,wishing you could excuse yourself to your room and let your toy do the job of settling the throb between your legs.

Mike´s eyes on you were´nt helping said throb either,you knew he could tell what happened and weirdly enough the shame of it was thrilling you more.

"You okay?" He asked suspiciouly

"Huh? Uhm,sure...." Making eye contact with him while the moans kept going on the background proved to be a hard task.

"Really? You seem...agitated" To say that was an understatement,your thoughts of mike were running wild,to the point where you could feel your underwear cling to your soaked heat.

"I´m...uhm...i am...." Mike´s sincere concern about your well being and how sweet he was about it were thriling you on even more,to the point where you couldnt muster up any words.

"I get it,you´re into that short guy on the screen" He said jealously "The scene clearly messed you,its okay if you need to...yknow...reliev yourself"

You were mortified by his words,but something about the thrill of being watched by michael´s sweet puppy eyes were making your fire burn higher.

Without taking your eyes from his and unsure of how he´d react,you slowly slid your hand into the hem of your pyjama bottoms,his lustful eyes following every movement of yours carefully,his breathing getting heavier by the moment.

"Fuck..." He whispered when you let out a low whimper as your cold finger finally found your needy clit.

You kept on staring at each othe while you pleasured yourself and after a few minutes the tent on his pants were hard to miss,and the way his hands tended to it were even harder to miss.

The movie behind you were long forgotten,the gasps and whimpers of you both were drowning the small space,eyes glued on one another and hands unable to stop pleasuring yourselfs.

"God,i cant wait any longer!" Mike pulled you suddenly on his lap kissing you deeply and passionately,swallowing your whimpers as you grinded on his lap,frenetic hands locked on the hem of his shirt pulling it over his head.

Your eyes lock on his shirtless figure and his hands caressed your waist below your shirt,goosebumps coming from your back. His hot lips went down with open mouthed kisses on your neck,a satisfied grin on his face as he took off your pyjama shirt and met your braless torso.

"Youre gonna be the death of me..." He huffed out in a breath.

You could´nt even think about responding before you felt his hot tongue on your nipple,he sucked on your breasts like his life depended on it,erupting multiples whines from you,the fire getting higher and higher between the both of you.

You snapped back to reality once you felt his hand grip your thigh strongly,inching closer and closer to where you were soaked for him.

"Mike wait!" You breathed out and he immediately stopped his ministrations,staring at you wide eyed.

"I´m so sorry,the sounds you were making,i thought you were liking it" his voice leaked of honesty.

"I´ts not that mikey,it feels great im just...i...never did this..."

"Oh,youre..."

"A virgin,yes,pathetic i know" The weight of being a twenty two year old vigin sank on you after that.

"Hey hey its fine!" He cupped your face gently and looked into your eyes,so tenderly you nearly forgot you were both half naked. "It´s all right...you should have told me sooner...if you wanna move on with it,i wanna make it special for you,like you deserve" He strokes your cheecks lovingly and you dont even need to think twice.

You threw your hands around his neck and pulled him closer kissing him with all the need in your heart.

"Please michael...make me yours"

He got up with you on his lap bringing you into your bedroom laying you gently on your bed,slowly peeling you off your shorts,you were only in your underwear now,laying in bed in front of your best friend.

"You look beautiful."

He dives into another deep kiss sliding his hands closer to where you need him the most.

"May i?" He asks teasing your hips with the elastic of your panties,you nod giving him acces to your whole body.

He slides a first finger into you with ease,revelling at the sweet moan you let out.

"Fuck baby you´re so wet"

Baby. You liked being called that,specially when mike did it. His kisses were growing desperate and erratic,just as the pace of his now two figers inside you.

"Mike,please,stop" You mutter almost out of breath opening your eyes and seeing his worried expression "Wanna cum on your cock,please."

Michael´s painfully hard cock nearly busted hearing those words come out of you,how could he deny anything you asked for? He was always putty to your wishes.

his hands quickly fumbled with the fly of his pants,making you giggle at his eagerness to get undressed,when he finally did your laugh got stifled at the sight.

His big red angry cock sprung free hitting him back in his abdomen,there was no way in hell that could fit inside your tiny virgin hole,he could see the worry in your eyes clear as day.

"Relax,ill be gentle..."

He kissed you again removing your panties now leaving you bare for him,the sight itself of you naked and wet for him,with that adorable blush on your face was driving him nuts. He drew his body closer to yours until his tip was teasing your entrance.

"You ready baby?" He asked,you nodded,and his fat tip was inside you.

You both gasped in unission at the feeling,his hands holding yours giving it a slight grip,signaling he was gonna push more in. The moan you let out were other wordly,busting his usually low ego and egging him on pleasuring you.

"Fuck baby youre so tight" With a final push and a guttural groan he was fully inside you.

The disconfort and euphoria were fighting to see who would take place on your expressions. Mike gave you a few minutes until you got used to the feeling of his shaft deflowering you,the pain turned into needines at any growing second,until it was unberable for you to have him inside you and not moving.

"Mike please,i need you to move" Your wish was his command.

He thrusted in you slow and deep,every time he bottomed himself you let out a moan,and each time you moaned he moved faster,making you moan more. It was a vicious cycle and before you could even register he was fucking you senseless.

You were flirting with your orgasm,only needing that one final push to send you over the edge.

"Mike,fuck,i´m so close" you whined out,only needing his sweet final push.

"Come on baby,be good and cum for me,feel good for me."

You couldn´t hold it at his praise,moaning his name loudly followed by a string of profanities. He was hypnotized by the sight of your orgasm,seeing you trash and moan underneath him,his hips moving on his own as you ride your high.

"Oh,fuck baby,watch me cum so good for you"

He pulled it out jerking off quickly on top of you painting your pretty tits white his seed before collapsing tired on top of you.

"So..." He rolls to your side holding your hand and laying close to you "Did you liked it? Are you okay?" You chuckled at the shift in his personality.

"It was amazing..." Your voice was hoarse from all the moaning "My legs will definetely be sore by the morning and i have class tomorrow" You laugh a little

"You can afford to miss class one day,you need to de-stress" He kissed your temple as you both drifted into a peaceful post sex sleep.

I guess yiu were more relaxed after all...

Gosh,i suck at endings and i´m writing this at four AM so i hope it doesnt suck!

[joaofelix70]

MISS DIPLOMAT & MR. CHARMING |

dominik szoboszlai x female reader.

author's note: this handsome man's living rent-free in my head. he's a freaking masterpiece. talented, funny, charismatic, attractive. i watched interviews, tiktok videos made by supporters and much more to understand a little bit of his language, personality and what he does towards friends and loved ones. laughed a lot! i made my homework as a writer, hope you enjoy it! (compliments and any kind of retributions are more than welcomed).

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

words and characters: 1,811/11,223. it was three days working too hard on this story. i'm begging for your consideration, lol.

────

sports diplomacy: it's the unique power of sport to bring people, nations, and communities closer together via a shared love of physical pursuits. this responsibility is the reason of a transition between strangers to connected individuals, advancing foreign policy goals and augmenting sport for development initiatives. the complex landscape where sport, politics, and diplomacy overlap become clearer, as do the pitfalls of using sport as a tool for overcoming and mediating separation between people, nonstate actors, and states. the power of sport has never been more important. so far, the 21st century has been dominated by disintegration, introspection, and the retreat of the nation-state from the globalization agenda. in such an environment, scholars, students, and practitioners of international relations are beginning to rethink how sport might be used to tackle climate change, gender inequality, and the united nations sustainable development goals, for example. to boost these integrative, positive efforts is to focus on the means as well as the ends, that is, the diplomacy, plural networks, and processes involved in the role sport can play in tackling the monumental traditional and human security challenges of our time. credits: international studies association and oxford university press.

────

MLSZ (hungarian football federation) ──

new training ground at telki.

"i can't believe that being in places like this made up my most theoretically utopian childhood dreams. what a progress in front of me!" you still witness exciting moments where you pinch yourself, trying to believe in the reality that surrounds you: visiting the new training center of the players who are just a few meters away from you, getting ready to represent an entire country.

"your presence is our privilege. a voice of the spread of eurocup to our nation, right here…" the technical director gives you deference, obtaining a measure of humbleness and respect by you.

"the honor belongs to me in its entirety. grateful for having me, sir. while the view is immersive and captivating — my fervent congratulations to everyone involved — could we retreat from the pleasant glass-enclosed room and see everything closer, on the outside? please? i will never get used to this atmosphere." you pour politeness and charisma to the staffs around you, being directed to the proximity of the field and saluting the employees who pass through your path.

meet dominik — your szobo — instigates the nostalgic combination of detailed moments in which your thoughts display as photographic retrospectives. you're incapable to oppose the little enthusiastic laughs, fidgeting the rings between your fingers and avoiding possible suspicious glances from others. however, for you, this wouldn't actually work. the lives of you both are correlated, but different.

the training session is finished. clapping your hands and celebrating the performances, you greet the athletes and recognize some familiar people. nevertheless, reality slows down after those dark woody eyes capture through your soul. his arms tattoos are glorified by the sun's rays, the same illuminated smile is offered to you: that one you got during the very first time you saw him — instantly knowing he made you testimony the accuracy of freedom, catharsis and emotional amorous complement. that he'd be the one to introduce you what you never experienced, what you thought you'd never receive or deserve. what love truly is. when you were novices in your actual professions, not even imagining the future gifts of your unreal purposes.

"there you are!" intimately, dominik points at you, being reciprocated by vibrant nods and your old sort of secret — not that mysterious or serious — handshake. "még mindig emlékszel rá? (still remembering it?). you're a real one!"

"hogy tudnám elfelejteni? alábecsülsz engem. (how could i forget it? you're underestimating me)". your defensive actions demonstrate purposeful falseness. masking any sensitive, verbal or figurative communicative fragment from him is a difficulty that makes you give in over time. honestly, you never complain about this. it's like he wants to understand the factors and layers of you.

"a te kézfogás fickó. ne merészelj lecserélni engem. (your handshake man… don't you dare to replace me)". a shameless wink is send to you, butterflies acquiring space in your stomach.

"és hivatalosan is a szavamat adom rá. (and you officially have my word on it)." your gloss is pigmented against your fingers while you raise it up, displaying an oath, wondering if szoboszlai comprehends that his replacement in your life would be blasphemous.

"diplomata kisasszony, (miss diplomat)…" the hungarian fingerprints are shared and you recognize the sign to hold them, ready to perform your typical fashion icon moment. "gorgeous as always. go ahead! you know what to do!".

amusement surrounds you with the nickname's citation. although, you could feel some curious glances, from the outsiders, about the intimacy between you and him. "i appreciate, our top-class national bless…" you move your body in rotations to exclaim the outfit's characteristics, lifting your feet to show off the specificities of your heels. "how is your hair so well-groomed after sweating, though?" your arms cross and you raise an eyebrow in questioning, trying to hide your fascination.

"thank you, my number-one fan, but don't change the subject. finish our inside joke, c'mon!" dominik grabs his water bottle and spreads the cooling liquid on his forehead, wiping the glowing droplets across his face as he lifted his jersey high enough to exhibits his fortified abs.

your attention is directed to any surrounding scenery, throat being piked. szoboszlai pretends he doesn't notice, preventing to embarrass you.

"alright, alright! you've won, bájos úr… (mr. charming)". your final comment escapes as, practically, a whisper. you can't control the shy laughter, coupled with the considerable redness invading your cheeks.

"that's the secret to make my day!" using his tongue to reproduce a sharp noise, he matches your humorous reactions. "would you like me to show you the infrastructure changes? i'm just gonna take a shower!"

"i've already been granted a tour around here, but in case you insist…" during the dialogue, some athletes cross your space, wishing them good luck for the competition. your concentration on the activity is significant, at the point that dominik's silent admiration goes unnoticed.

"i mean, you know me! i'm gonna insist anyway, so…" he reaches your captivity, bringing you jollification.

"i'll rate you as a personal tour guide. now, go there!" jesting each other, you both exchange exaggerated reverences, like a challenge of who makes the most chaotic one.

────

walking around the area, various subjects are explored, informations entrusted. you ask and are updated about his ethereal younger sister.

portraits of the generations are framed. you magnifies his presence in celebratory pictures, dedicated to find him in the memories and achievements on that wall. pride shines from you and the hungarian finds it lovely.

"you know i'm a sucker for accents… they're much more than mere verbal characteristics, they're stories: life experiences, marks and scars. identities and cultural integrations." the topic is random. through generalized opinions, you're explaining conceptions and dominik is retaining mental observations. he exalts every scrap of your identity, like a faithful worshiper.

"basically, you're admitting being enchanted by my accent. i can see the stars in your eyes. a win is a win!" szoboszlai and his frequent attribute to physical touch, tickling your ears and playing with them. it doesn't bother you, actually: adoring the affection exuded by you and him. you feel like a little girl dealing with your one and only love.

"it's beautiful, how can you blame me? and hey, i know mine's making you grin too." he holds your arm, shivers running down your spine, the two of you being euphoric in the midst of your own enthusiasm.

"putting me against the wall? okay, hum… what were you saying before?" he's changing the subject and you have a natural wit to boo him. lifting his shoulders as a surrender, the hungarian focuses on the specific loose strands of his simple bracelet, which you get used to help him tie it again, willingly.

"trying to avoid the truth? fine! let me take care of you while i talk about my admiration towards globalization and communication. like, with every fiber of me…" you accept the conversation's direction and utter a 'voilà' towards the accessory's new appearance.

"that's why you're the best person i've ever seen doing this job." dominik compliments you, an act full of honesty.

"thanks a lot, mate. but which job? as your bracelet helper or my real one?" you provide tenderness, looking amused.

"i mean… both of them." szoboszlai chuckles, revealing courtesy by your continuous helpfulness.

"literally? because i know you know a lot of people. you're so young and already is the national team's captain." you nudge him in a form of tease. he's a starboy, it's undeniable.

"flattered! literally, thought. you were born for this, believe me." vulnerability collides to you, as his words are deliberated: emotions embracing you and warming your insides.

"dominik szoboszlai, my dear friend, you're gonna make me cry, right here. i'm sorry, i need to do it…"

innocent satisfaction builds strength over you and executes unthought-of approach to the tangibility of your gratitude — his colony enrapturing your sensitive olfaction — in the most out-of-control way. the sounds reach your hearing: a choir of angels singing hallelujah. he reciprocates the contact, laughing at your juvenile excitement. joining him and doing the same thing, harmonizing the triumph. in the separation of the touch, you both remain close to each other and the hungarian doesn't miss the opportunity to feel the softness of your side face, caressing the skin. appreciation and satisfaction invade your structure, delighting on the palm of his hand.

"just a dear friend? why are we pretending all this time?" dominik's reading you. the intimidation at the sight of him overhanging you is paralyzing. you don't usually back down, but in that instant — superior than your most repressed desires — your gasps are escaped.

"who is putting who against the wall now?" insisting and failing on your witty answers, shyness and uncertainty corrodes you.

"please, look at me! i'm not kidding anymore." his voice is questioning, intrigued — contradictorily vulnerable and calm — your rationality being fragmented, fragile.

"you know i'm not the kind of woman you're surrounding by, domi. i'm not an influencer, bikini model. i'm not a public figure. i don't live for the cameras and gossip platforms. i live to work hard. i didn't achieve any of this with some type of perk. my routine and your routine are based on traveling..." who could deny it? szoboszlai's always been all that you see. it's much more than a mere passion. your attraction to him is magnetic, intense, vivid. consequently, terrifying.

"i'm just asking for a chance, (your nickname). i don't lie when i say i've never met someone like you. i may be surrounded by a crowd and you'll still be the one to steal my attention, because nobody compares to you."

your eyelids are closed and the exhalation of his sigh penetrates your lungs with the numbing breath of life you've never experienced before. it's happening: the rare situation where thinking carefully about the pros and cons is unworthy, dumbness. your decision is made and the privilege's resolution unify your lips. the beginning demonstrates slowness and patience — the intensification through the concluded wait of the longed-for reality, transforming light and magical kisses into open mouths discovering each other and witnessing the endearment that both offer — hairs, necks, shoulders and waists captured.

"you're the first to create a meaningful presence in my mind and heart. i want you to be the last one too. i love you, kincs (my treasure). i'm finally brave enough to demonstrate it with no fears." dominik's forearm covers your upper torso. your back against his chest, noses resting on each others. rejoicing at the miraculous, incomparable circumstance.

"i love you, drágám (my precious). you're finally mine and it was so fucking worth waiting." his whisper: the living proof of celestial existence.

"how blessed we are…" intertwined bodies, coalesced essences. solitary melodies turning into the sweetest and most complete symphony.

[99solaris]

home • pezzy

pairing: pezzy x gn!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: if you squint its angst ... fine balance with fluff song pairing: home by michael buble a/n: hello everyone!!! i am new to the frouse / clooless / goons writing community and thought i would throw my two cents into the bucket of writers. currently not taking requests since i am balancing studies next to this - maybe in the future (hopefully!) - i hope whoever reads enjoys it!!! feedback is always appreciated (:

The house always seemed to feel so much bigger when there wasn’t a second person to fill it. Evenings felt longer when the only sound to accompany you was the TV playing some random show and the added purring from Sly on your lap. It felt like life was put in slow motion, yet, you were still moving forward in real time. You feel slightly embarrassed for how much you actually miss him, even though he had only left the day before.

Max had agreed to go to Vegas for a boys trip over the weekend. He had talked about wanting to go back for months, frequently making jokes about how he ‘’needs to gamble’’ and ‘’I can hear the machines calling my name’’. All light fun with laughs and rolling of eyes. Muttering a low ‘’So is therapy’’ in response, earning an over the top shocked response from Max and a loud ‘’How dare you!’’.

When he was leaving, he nearly clinged on you for dear life. ‘’Remember to keep an eye on Sly,’’ he mentions, arms keeping a tight hold around your waist as he’s scanning the area behind you, ‘’Don’t let him out.’’ ‘’As if I have ever done that,’’ you respond, giving a soft shove to his shoulder and a quiet giggle. ‘’I’ll text you when I get there,’’ he says, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your lower back, ‘’And I’ll text you before I go to bed, when I go pee, when I am eating-’’ he says, rambling on before he shuts up when you place a kiss on his lips. ‘’Just send me a text when you can, just so I know that you’re alive, idiot,’’ you murmured against his lips. He hums in agreement before his lips leave yours, only to pepper gentle kisses on your cheek, nose, forehead, his eyelashes tickling your skin. ‘’Go, Max,’’ you giggle as he teasingly starts kissing down your neck, ‘’you have a plane to catch, yeah?’’. ‘’Just one more kiss,’’ he says, ‘’and then I go.’’ You shake your head and let him press the last kiss on your lips, gently squeezing you as if when he lets go, you would disappear. His hold on your waist slowly releases as he picks up his bags and slings them over his shoulder, shoulders slump as he gives an actor worthy dramatic sigh before turning around to leave. It’s only 3 days, how bad can it be?

Actually unbearable for the both of you - and so for his friends. They’ve implemented a rule that Max is not allowed to mention you within the first hour of being in Vegas, others have started betting on how long he can hold it in. ‘’Hey, I know you love them, dude,’’ Puffer says at some point, hands rubbing at his face, ‘’but can you please, please, just talk about something else?’’. The group laughs at the comment as Max can’t do anything but blush, scratching his neck and accepts the teasing he’s going to endure.

On the other side, you sit at home and scroll your Instagram feed, rather mindless as you don’t seem to be caught up in anything in front of you. A day has passed since Max left and it would be a lie if you said it hadn’t been hard falling asleep without him next to you. Most of Day 2 of ‘’Waiting for my Husband (Max) to return from war (Vegas)’’ was spent texting back and forth funny bits they had seen through the day, pictures of pure devastation and jubilations of wins and losses.

Cat Dad(dy): ‘’Just lost 200 dollars’’ Babe<3: ‘’Guess we’ll be eating bread and beans for the rest of the month’’ Cat Dad(dy): ‘’Trust the process, babe’’.

It lifted your mood whenever the notification ding would sound. For those small seconds it would feel like he was in the room down the hall, streaming, sending you texts about if you wanted to make some dinner (together, of course, as he always makes sure to note) or if you should order out. But he’s not. He’s somewhere too far away, probably hyping up Droid to go all-in on a bet, only for him to most likely lose it all. 

Cleaning up after making dinner, having given Sly her food as well, giving her some head scratches before she digs in, you hear your phone ring. You don’t even bother looking at who is calling, since you already know who it is.

‘’Hey Max,’’ you say, a smile on your face already forming, ‘’you need any lunch money?’’ you joke, earning a laugh from his side of the phone. ‘’No, no, I’ve actually won the money back I won!’’ he says, answering the question from earlier, ‘’but I actually called to say that,’’ he continues before a heavy sigh leaves his lips, ‘’to say that I miss you.’’ ‘’I miss you too, Max,’’ you respond, ‘’like, a stupid amount.’’ ‘’I didn’t think I would miss you this much either,’’ he says, quickly continuing, ‘’but I do! I do miss you, a lot, like a parking lot.’’ A silly inside joke you’ve created early in the relationship. The call goes on, sharing more stories of what has happened, at various points you can hear the boys yell in the background, sometimes they would be on the phone and you got to hear each point of view of the story. Listening and responding as well as possible, even though a knot is forming in your stomach from wishing he was home instead and telling all these stories, curled up in his arms, hearing his heartbeat and the warmth of his body against yours. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the line has gone quiet. Max notices you haven’t responded in a while.

‘’What are you thinking about, babe?’’ he questions, making you return to the present. You fiddle with the bottom of your shirt, trying to suppress the stomach feeling as you utter a small, ‘’I wish you were home, Max.’’. It’s quiet again before you hear him sigh. ‘’I wish I was there too,’’ he responds as you can hear him move around, probably to get away from the attention of the boys. You look around the living room, how the sun is starting to set, casting soft shadows in the living room. If you imagine hard enough, you can nearly see Max walk around the room, fresh out of bed in only his pajama pants with Sly running after him. It brings a small smile to your face, reminiscing those many mornings you’ve had together. Though, it’s cut short as small sniffles break the silence. ‘’Are you okay?’’ you ask quietly and he laughs half-heartedly. ‘’It’s so stupid, isn’t it?’’ he says with a sharp inhale, ‘’It’s only been a day without you and it’s like I’m having withdrawals.’’

‘’I’m your Vegas slot machine now,’’ you try and joke, and it lands since he’s laughing on the other end. ‘’Yeah,’’ he says, ‘’yeah, you’re my slot machine and you are calling my name right now.’’ ‘’What are the voices saying?’’ you ask. ‘’That I come home,’’ he responds, a break before he continues, ‘’But I can’t right now,’’ he says and you can nearly hear him carting his hand through his hair, ‘’the boys would be so pissed if I did.’’

‘’Do what you think is right,’’ you reply, ‘’but don’t come home for me. If you want to come home early, it should be because you want to, Max.’’ He’s quiet, probably chewing on his lip, thinking the possibilities through. It has gotten dark outside since you’ve started the call, hours having passed by so easy. ‘’I’ll think about it, okay?’’ he says, ‘’I can’t promise anything-’’ ‘’And that’s alright. Text me when you know anything, ok?’’ you quickly interrupt him. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to and he knows that. ‘’You know that I love you, right?’’ he comments, hearing his smile through the phone. ‘’I love you too, Max,’’ you respond before you both agree to end the call. 

And so you wait. Moving from the living room to the bedroom. Waiting hours laying in bed. You don’t want to fall asleep in case he calls or texts. But your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, turning into a battle between you and your eyes to stay awake, since the rest of your body is ready to sleep. You look at your phone one last time. 3:48 in the morning. No messages, no calls.

Eventually, you fall asleep against your will.

When you wake up, it’s bright outside. Sitting up in bed, you check your phone and still nothing from him. You open your phone and are about to send him a message, when you hear a click. The pitter patter of Sly’s paws against the floor, the thump of something heavy landing on the floor, the floor starting to creak under the weight, footsteps nearing the bedroom and the door opens. 

‘’I missed you too much.’’