#I love drawing so much but I feel bad at it frequently for having sunk so many years into it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaminpetals · 4 years ago

Note

Yoooo can I get some norton sfw and nsfw headcanons 😳 your writing is top tier btw !!!!!

⛏ norton hcs ー sfw & nsfw . . .

art credit

SFW ;;

♡ norton deals with frequent mood swings, hallucinations, and intense survivor's guilt, so he had cold feet about relationships for a long time. he views himself as a burden and stain on society, he doesn't want to put anyone through the misery of dating him.

♡ if he had a partner all he'd do was hurt them, norton thought. he'd try to rescue them during a game but accidentally maim them, or lash out at them during a fit of uncontrollable rage and scar them forever.

♡ when he began to develop a crush on you, he was even more gloomy than usual. he cancelled plans with you, walked away the moment you sat down beside him, and refused to heal you even if you were standing in front of him and the hunter was far away.

♡ it was your compassion that made him fall. hard. although you didn't speak much, you always went out of your way to help norton and offered an ear if he needed to vent rather than being scared and fleeing.

♡ he thought that if he made you hate him then his feelings would go away, but it only made you more determined to support the crumbling man who had your heart.

♡ every time he thought about holding you, he would be plagued with visions of him hurting you right after. sometimes he would burst into tears when he met your gaze because he couldn't stop thinking about you dying like his coworkers.

♡ it took weeks of nonstop affection to convince him that you'd be safe with him and that you'd love him no matter what.

♡ he wanted to be as close to you as possible to keep you out of harm's reach, but he also didn't want to be near you in case he hurt you.

♡ your love was like magnets. he pushed you away, pulled you closer, pushed you away, pulled you closer.

♡ the best s/o he could ask for would he a levelheaded and understanding one, if you were calm and nurturing (but not overbearing) then he could have someone to pull him out of his fits of catatonia AND calm him down when he was blazing with fury.

♡ norton's rage would never be directed at you, it was always himself or anyone who posed a threat to you.

♡ he'd give hunters tons of shit for even daring to lay a finger on you. he didn't care if hastur was a god and norton was a man, he was going to calamari that bastard for letting you bleed out.

♡ huge fear of abandonment. he needs constant reassurance that you aren't complaining about him behind his back or planning to pack your bags and leave.

♡ when norton is in a good mood, he can't keep his hands to himself and acts so smug.

♡ you want to keep him in his sleazy money hungry moods for as long as you can, you insist on gifting him with stunning gems or interestingly shaped rocks just to see his face light up.

♡ he gets frustrated and genuinely upset when you tease him or don't give him what he wants but when it comes to teasing you? norton is the most mischievous man you've had the experience of meeting.

♡ he uses the height difference between you to his advantage, if you have a hat he can and will hold it above your head and chuckle as you try to reach for it.

♡ give him sweet food!!! he may not look like it, but pastries and candy remind norton of his childhood and have a calming effect on him. for every donut you donate to him, he'll kiss you in any spot of your choice.

♡ if he has a game on golden cave you'll volunteer to play it for him, he can't handle the claustrophobia and flashbacks he gets when he has games there. he appreciates it so much.

♡ favourite cuddling position is laying on his back with you resting on his stomach or under his arm with your hair splayed on his chest.

♡ burns everything he touches but will still cook and bake for you!!! maybe you should give him lessons?

♡ never knows how to ask to vent. he lets you know by talking to himself, saying "i killed them", that's when you drop what you're doing and console him.

♡ he wishes that he embraced love earlier, nightmares and hallucinations are easier to handle when he has someone clenching his hand and running their palm along his hair to calm him down and remind him it's not real. the voices that asked norton "why did you kill me?" are replaced by his lover cooing "norton baby, it's not real, you're safe in your bed, i love you so much dear" in his ear. he feels like he can handle anything with you by his side.

NSFW ;;

♡ like his moods, norton's behaviour in bed changes like the weather.

♡ norton is a fan of slow, intimate sex where nothing exists except you two. when you can mumble that you're hopelessly in love with him as you give light strokes to his cock, each lick worth a thousand words.

♡ other times, norton is brutally rough and you have to use a safeword with him.

♡ on bad days he'll enjoy humiliation or degradation, by having you beg for him or be called filthy names it reassures him that you aren't plotting to abandon him if you're doing all this embarrassing stuff.

♡ when he tops, he prefers to fuck you from behind and grip your hips until his nails like talons leave a mark, drawing blood. he can't control himself when he sees you submitting yourself to him and spanks you.

♡ holds you no matter what, when he wraps his arms around your belly as his hips snap into yours from behind he feels like he's protecting you.

♡ likely has a breeding kink as well, he wants to cum inside of you as deep as he possibly can and never pull out.

♡ he has such a thing for your hands ー their softness, their size, how your nails feel when they scratch his back, how you play with his hair... he wants those same hands to turn his cock into a red, leaking mess.

♡ candles. norton would use candles to set the mood and lighten the room so he could look at you better, but he would also enjoy watching (safe) wax trickle onto your skin.

♡ especially if you already have cum on you, he'd rub it in with his hands until they stuck to your body.

♡ something about the smell and the mess of it all drives him wild. the fact you're willingly letting him corrupt you like this is enough to make him cream in his pants.

♡ obsessed with claiming you, he would mark you up from head to toe and have you promise you wouldn't leave him while his teeth sunk into your skin.

♡ pulls your hair so hard that some chunks have accidentally come out... in the moment norton growls and fucks you harder when it happens, but once he cools down, he feels awful and wants to give you a massage.

♡ the heavy breathing and strings of curses that fall from his lips make your legs weak, his voice sounds huskier and more primal during sex.

♡ when he eats you out or blows you he digs his nails into your thighs and doesn't let go until you've cum at least twice, the unmistakable scratch marks left on your thighs leave him ravenous.

♡ norton doesn't like when you make references to past sex when he's in one of his happy moods, it's so embarrassing for him. but when he's in a teasing, possessive mood? the same room you mentioned it in would be the same room he jackhammers you in. even if there's other people, he'll find something to stand behind and act like he's fixing your outfit for you... don't try to tease norton when he's horny because he does Not show mercy.

#norton stans lets get it!!!!!#norton campbell #idv x reader #norton campbell imagine #idv prospector #norton campbell smut

580 notes · View notes

ohheyitsokay · 3 years ago

Text

before tomorrow

Pairing: Javier Peña x (f) reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex, strong language, a touch of angst

Summary: a classic fake dating undercover mission, with a healthy dose of miscommunication

“Hey, Peña, can we talk?” Your head popped into Javier’s office and an annoying … feeling spiked in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah,” he gestured for you to come in, pushing some papers aside to give you relative attention. The door closed behind and you sunk into the chair across from him.

There was a comfortable smile on your face, these visits to his office becoming frequent over the past few weeks. He could see you thinking, knowing full well this was one of your first undercover missions, and he almost heard your words before you said them.

“About tomorrow,” you started, but there was something in your eyes he didn’t recognize.

He waited.

The weekend was something he figured you both were looking forward to. It was... an honest to goodness fun mission. Like the ones you’d see in movies. Intel, appearances, earpieces, and playing parts. Out of the heat, no takedowns or chances of innocent people getting hurt. More than that, it had felt like, these past few weeks, that neither of you would mind getting the chance to just hang out together, even for work. No watching eyes, no paperwork to get to, no opportunity for another one of the guys to shoot his shot with you.

At least, Javi had been looking forward to those things. He liked you. You were clever and pretty and you cared about people, genuinely.

“Can we make some rules?” Your tone wasn’t shy, but definitely a bit vulnerable. There was subtext there, and in your sharp eyes, but that was another thing he wasn’t quite sure of.

“Okay,” he said, slow, curious.

You chewed on your words again, Javier’s brown eyes not leaving yours for even a moment. The top button of his shirt was undone, and the humidity was making the ends of his hair curl just a touch.

There was no way you could promise you weren’t going to fall in love with him so you settled for something different.

“No pet names, no messing up my hair,” you held his gaze, trying to match his confidence. Months of banter and comradery should’ve prepared you for that much, at least. The corners of his eyes crinkled just a bit as you counted on your fingers. “And no kissing.”

“Alright, fair enough,” he said, a faint line between his eyebrows forming as he wondered what prompted this.

“Obviously, I’ll follow your lead, and…” you leaned towards him a little bit, a glint in your eye. “If I catch you looking at my butt I get your gun.” You almost cackled at the look on his face as you got up, waving before you left, not even waiting for his response.

Javier ran his hand over his jaw. What a set of rules. You following his lead, telling him not to look, not to kiss… it almost made him wonder what exactly you did want. If kissing was the only physical affection off the table, he could definitely work with that… He shook his head. If he didn’t know any better, that interaction almost made him more excited for the night to come.

It didn’t exactly happen like he had hoped.

He spent the morning preparing his bag – he had most of a weekend to pretend to be your lover at an elite conference – and overthinking your rules.

It was no secret that he was a ladies man. Even if he’d stopped talking about the women who once occupied his bed, the office gossip hadn’t. But the idea that you could potentially be bothered by that reputation left a bad taste in his mouth. This was his chance to show you he wasn’t that guy, at least not any more.

That personal mission promptly got in his way. When he picked you up, you were stunning. Sexy. He nearly choked, trying to compliment you, explain to you how gorgeous you were without sounding like goddamn creep.

The rest of the night was the same, Javier cursing himself for tripping over his words and feet. You could feel something was off, too. He was trying so hard to … make this seem like a date that he completely lost his cover.

You’d managed to get part of the Intel you need, thank goodness, but the narrowed eyes of the other guests followed the two of you around the room.

Lovers did not keep each other at arms length, with hovering, respectful hands. When they found themselves molding into each other’s sides, they did not jump apart, flinching, not fully meeting each others eyes. And then certainly did not avoid kissing when the lights were soft in the corner of the room, and the music and drinks were flowing.

No one present questioned you outright, and Javier’s heart protested when you got a message from headquarters and had to slip away.

Tonight, for him, was nice just being with you like this. He was enjoying the flush on your face, and the way your fingers felt, clinging to the fabric at the elbow of his suit. If it were a first date, it would have been perfect, the process of slowly becoming comfortable with each other, close to each other.

But it wasn’t a date at all.

It was a mission. And you were the rookie who had been flustered by your partner and almost cost them all the effort put into the invites, the placements, the whole weekend.

At least, that was what they told you.

It took you long moments to articulate your plan to do better, to reign the butterflies, and to rebuild your walls, but you did it. The nature of the conference and covers dictated you share a hotel room. As you went to find Javi – no, your partner – there, you focused on stripping yourself of the electric heat his hands had left on your skin.

Javier Peńa didn’t have eyes for you. He made eyes at most people, but it was just fun and games and he was good at his job. That was all that was behind those tender touches and adoring looks. He was good at his job, and you just needed to get it together.

But Javier's heart ached a little when you walked into the room. He was already set up on the couch and he almost jumped, standing to greet you.

“How’d that go?” he asked, before anything, the neutral look on your face feeling unfamiliar.

“It’s fine, it’s too late to pull me out anyway. I’ll get it together for tomorrow,” your professionalism was hard to maintain when his eyes were holding yours. They were deep and dark and even here, long hallways away from prying eyes, they seemed like they cared for you.

“And… forget those rules I made.” Now, your gaze was stuck on the floor. There was a small stain by the end table, the maids had tried to cover it with a rug.

Javi wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Still flying high from the feeling of you on his arm, his mind wandered to his previous thoughts about your rules. His mind was occupied for a moment, indulging the idea that maybe this was his chance.

Images of you – under him, gasping, fingernails curling into his skin – short circuited his brain.

“No rules, cariño?” Javier stepped into your space, eager at this off chance he could show you how much he liked you.

No pet names.

His touch started gentle, brushing a strand of hair back before combing it in with his fingers. Broad fingers slid through until he was palming the back of your head, by your neck.

No messing up my hair.

You were still as a statue, your eyes finding his like magnets and metal, and you could feel him draw close, his breath in yours.

The gentle bump of your noses was the a yank, back, back, back to your senses. Heart racing, you pulled away, a white hot feeling tearing through you. One hair closer and you would’ve been done for. This was Javier Peña. He had probably used those same touches to get countless girls and if they were anything, they were proof that you were not special.

“Tomorrow,” you all but spat at him. Turning, you shoved yourself towards the bedroom, hissing under your breath, “I cant believe you.”

Javier watched you go, dumbfounded. And then the realizations hit him one after another, sharp pain with a healthy onslaught of panic.

You thought he had been getting close to you for the job. You thought it was your fault, that you had to do better because this was professional.

He had misunderstood everything, tried to come on to you when you were giving him a chance to be respectful and he ruined it.

Cursing, he wished fruitlessly he could punch himself. Had he done anything, anything at all to make it clear to you he adored you? That if you’d kiss him, sleep with him, it would be a damn honor? That it had nothing to do with the mission?

Fuck.

He figured he had roughly ten seconds before you remembered to close the door and it would be all over.

Pushing into your room, he saw your expression and felt physical pain shoot through his chest.

Hot, angry tears were carving paths down your face, and they almost drove him to his knees. By the door, he tried to make himself look smaller, trying to tell you on face he hated himself for being so blind tonight.

Speak, words, now. His mind yelled.

“Querida, please, I'm sorry,” he was talking fast, desperate. He told you as quickly as he could how much of an idiot he was, how he didn’t mean to get you in hot water. You stared at him, wide eyes, tears drying as he tried to explained how much he liked you, how he was trying to do this thing right and screwed it up. How the last thing he wanted was for you to think you were just another opportunity hook up.

When he was done, he was almost breathing hard, forcing himself to wait for you to process before he risked shooting himself in the foot again.

Slowly, almost as if you were in a trance, you reached behind you and grabbed an overstuffed pillow off the bed. Javier was nervous you were going to hit him for a moment before you held it to your face and groaned.

“Of all the stupid, emotionally incompetent men in the whole world I just had to go and pick you,” your voice was muffled but the feeling the words gave Javier was clear as spring water. He was fine being stupid, knowing you ha picked him.

“Get out, we can figure this out tomorrow,” your face was visible again and then you threw the pillow at him and he retreated. A goofy smile was growing on his face. He had made a fool of himself, then apologized and confessed and still you picked him.

You picked him.

The idea of going back out into the field tomorrow became more than exciting. Javier felt like a damn teenager in love. He was still confused, but at the same time he wanted to go to sleep quickly, so he could skip to the part where you were near to him again.

There was a lot left to figure out, but he felt light now that you were no longer mad at him. Settling into the couch, he was already half dreaming of the next day, playing at your lover for real this time, and … and kissing you.

That thought made him slow down, and wake up again. Something felt off, and that feeling carried him back towards your room.

His knock was quiet, nervous you wouldn’t hear, and nervous you would.

When you opened the door, you looked soft and confused and he knew.

“Querida… our first kiss shouldn’t be undercover, it should be now,” he said, with determination. Before the night could end, he had to show you, prove to you that he was serious. “Before the mission starts again,” he added, and he watched the understanding fill your eyes.

“Do you mean that?” your voice was small, but equally determined.

And he nodded, swallowing.

He was offering to do this, for real: not for the game or the job or anything else, because none of those mattered here in your hotel room. It was hard for you, an hour before, to let him apologize. To let the wall that said he was in a category of men who would only hurt you. But you had, had deconstructed your self preservation and now…

The man in front of you was asking for permission to fall in love with you.

And when he kissed you, solid and gentle, you both knew you’d let him.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost

#javier peña x you #javier peña #Javier Peña x reader #narcos #maybe i don't know people

86 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober - Day Eleven

Prompt: Office Desk

Pairing: Kuroo/Reader (Haikyuu!!)

TW: Non-Consensual Touching, Abuse of Power, Implied Financial Manipulation, Sexual Harassments, Delusional Mindsets, and Dehumanization.

It wasn’t even his desk.

Kuroo didn’t have one, technically. He had a dedicated conference room, three different phone numbers, and business cards he found a reason to hand out so often, you’d learned to put in a request for replacements every other week whether or not he asked, but he didn’t have a desk, he just wasn’t on-site enough for there to be a need. You had one, though. As his personal assistant, you had your own office, something you never would’ve dreamed of when you first signed up for an internship under the Volleyball Association. It’d seemed like a miracle when he first showed off your new territory, and you thanked him so profusely and so wholeheartedly, you were almost scared he’d revoke the privilage just to calm you down. For a few weeks, you’d loved it. For a few weeks, it made you feel like you belonged with your infinitely more qualified coworkers. For a few weeks, it made you feel like you were an actual professional.

Now, it just made you feel like a trophy, one who’d been more than happy to lock itself into a gilded case.

You find yourself wishing you hadn’t put so much effort into decorating, a lot of the time. It might’ve made it easier to let Kuroo bury his face in the crook of his neck if you didn’t find your attention drifting to the painting you’d hung on the closest wall, just over his shoulder, from your current perspective. If you’d never brought in a succulent, short and round with needles that were softer than they were sharp, it might not hurt so much to hear the ceramic pot hit the floor and shatter as he shoved it to the side, your skin stifling soft curses as dirt and shards of clay spilled over the carpeted floor. You might not feel so filthy, if you hadn’t thought to bring in a framed picture of your family, all smiling faces and bright expressions and prying, unblinking eyes that burnt holes in your back as his fingers brushed against your thigh, as his teeth brushed against your shoulder, as he touched you in a way that was anything but appropriate for the workplace you thought you could grow to love. The workplace you really, really wanted to love. The workplace Kuroo had laughed at, crumpled, and ripped to shreds the moment his hand dipped to your lower back and he admitted you’d be doing more than just making spreadsheets and scheduling appointments.

He’d just come back from one of his frequent business trips earlier that afternoon, and it showed. You should’ve made and excuse the moment he called you from the airport, the moment he told you he’d be stopping by the office to finish some post-contract paperwork, and you should’ve screamed when he took you by the wrist and asked you to stay for just a few minutes longer than the rest of the staff, for just long enough for you and him to have the floor to yourselves. You’d just nodded, though, agreed and let him drag you onto your desktop, posed like a perfect, complacent, obedient doll as he took you by the hips and forced his tongue down your throat. You could only consider yourself lucky he’d gotten bored of your mouth quickly, and his lips were on your neck, now, biting and sucking until he knew he would leave marks.

The receptionist would probably ask you about it tomorrow, and you’d laugh and say your date last night had gotten a little intense. It’d be a lie, but at this point, telling the truth sounded more implausible than any amount of fictional one-night stands and nonexistent boyfriends ever could.

You wished he wouldn’t talk, you really wished he wouldn’t talk, but Kuroo had never been very good at keeping quiet. “A week.” He was muttering, mumbling, talking to himself and only barely bothering to process the idea that you might hear him. You couldn’t blame him, honestly. You tried not to talk when Kuroo got like this, and he liked to fill the silence. He didn’t seem to care whether or not you were listening. “Those fuckers kept me away from you for a week. I couldn’t think about a damn thing,” He chuckled, shaking his head. You couldn’t see him, but you felt his grin as it pressed against your shoulder, Kuroo eager to get you as close as possible and trap you there, until he was forced to let go. “Almost fumbled the deal ‘cause I was so desperate to get back. I thought I was losing my mind, for a second there.”

“You could’ve called.” It was a weak attempt to placate him. You were thankful for every hour he was gone, for every minute you could concentrate on your work rather than the needs and urges of your boss, but you might be able to tolerate more exposure to him, if it just meant he was a little less touchy when you saw him in-person. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, when you’re not here.”

He pulled away, at that, just long enough to send you a playful smile and bring up one of his hands, nimble fingers soon toying with the buttons of your shirt, undoing them with all the grace and all the speed of someone who had far too much experience. You didn’t bother trying to stop him. Last time you did, he’d left a ring of bruises around your wrists, and your back had ached for days, afterwards - hell, he’d even threatened to cut your pay for ‘insubordination’. If you resisted, it meant he got to be rough with you. And if he was rough, he wouldn’t stop being rough until he knew you were too beaten-down to make the same mistake twice.

“Missed me that much, huh?” You didn’t deny it or indulge him, but Kuroo was already moving on, tugging on your sleeve and letting crisp, white fabric wrinkle and pool, exposing the top of your chest. Your fists tightened as he kissed over the area above your collarbone, your nails biting into your palms as his teeth sunk into tender flesh, harsh enough to draw specks of blood. There was a moment to let the indents set, a second of searing, burning pain, then Kuroo withdrew, looking over his work with a satisfied huff. “You shouldn’t say things like that, baby. Every time you do, I think about how sweet it’d be to bring you home.”

There it was, the ever-looming threat, the worse alternative - he was going to bring you home. He’d told you about the life he wanted countless times, ranting about how nice it would be to have someone to keep his bed warm, about how he’d always like the idea of a stay-at-home partner, about how cute you’d look in an apron and little else. Spending a third of your day dealing with Kuroo was bad enough. You couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t let him monopolize your personal life, too. “I like having a job,” You managed, hastily, straightening your back and forcing yourself to take him by the shoulders. “I’ve never been very good at cooking and cleaning, I’m a lot better with--”

“You’re a lot better at keeping your dirty mouth shut.” Instantly, you fell silent, and Kuroo hummed contentedly. “I know you can learn, (Y/n). You’re so smart, and resourceful, and beautiful - that’s why I hired you.” You winced at the admission, but he didn’t seem to notice. The only hint that he acknowledged your disappointment came in the form of a fleeting peck to the corner of your jaw, an arm snaking around your waist and pulling you towards him, until your chest was flush with his. “You know how to do what's best for yourself, and I know what’s best for you. My pretty little secretary is never gonna work for anyone else. I’m the only one you whore yourself out to, right now, and I’ll be the only person who gets to see your face everyday, nobody else can.” He paused, but he didn’t hesitate. His tone was arrogant, when he continued, confident. As if there was no doubt in his mind you couldn’t take care of yourself, not on your own. “Nobody else deserves to, besides me.”

You weren’t a secretary, you were an assistant. It was a small distinction, and aside from the name, there was virtually no difference, but it nagged you, eating away at something in the back of your mind until you had to say something. You almost corrected him. You tried to, but as soon as you moved to speak, there was a shove, a push that left you lying on your back and made your desk shake under the force. A jar of pens tipped over, a stapler toppled onto its side, and something made of glass fell over and cracked, loudly. Your picture frame. It had to be your picture frame, you were sure of it.

For some reason, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be replacing it.

339 notes · View notes

jenomark · 4 years ago

Text

PART 3: XIAOJUN, THE EATER

➔Pairing: Lucas x Reader (Female) | Xiaojun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Hendery ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for people with eating disorders or food issues. Food is mentioned a lot in this one, as food is Xiaojun’s kink. If that makes you uncomfortable, I would suggest skipping this part. Oral (female). Angst. Obsessive behavior. Honestly, I realize how uncomfortable this series is to read because it touches on a lot of serious issues involved around sex. Read with caution. ➔Word count: 4,656

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

“Yeah, right there...that’s good...keep going..yeah, right there.”

You set the couch down on your side with a thud. Lucas set his side down softly and stood back to get a good look at his new purchase. Well, it wasn’t just his purchase, but yours, too. To him, it was the family couch, the very thing that would bind the two of you together into holy matrimony land.

“It looks perfect in here,” he said. “Really ties the room together.”

You were on the verge of sniggering- and it was too late for you to retract any trace of amusement -when Lucas looked up and asked what you found so funny. He looked disappointed, which made you feel a twinge of guilt.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” you said, letting the humor slide from your face. “It’s just....Lucas, you never care about how the room looks. We’ve always made fun of people like that.”

“I do care.” he said. “Every time you walk into a room, suddenly, everything looks more beautiful.”

“Okay. That was really cheesy.”

Lucas laughed, dissolving any of the guilt you would have let fester. His smile was wide, his eyes twinkling and bright. “You’re right. I don’t know what has gotten into me.”

He had The Look in his eye. Before he could suggest that you break the couch in with a hot round of sex, you told him you were on your period. His face fell, and for just a moment, you began to feel bad again. The lies were getting easier lately, but there was something about this particular one that felt traitorous. He wasn’t the type of guy to root through the trash to find tampon wrappers as evidence. He was doing his part as the idiot boyfriend, but you, you were going to push things too far.

Fuck him on the couch, you tried to convince yourself. He’s your maybe fiance. Maybe.

An awkward silence passed. Lucas spun around and took a careful seat on the new couch. His big body sunk into the cushions in a way that hugged him better than you could. He groaned happily and looked so smug that he had made a good choice. Good job. Good girlfriend. Good couch. He patted the seat next to him and waited for you to join him.

“I should actually get going.” you said, wishing desperately that you sounded apologetic.

Expecting it, Lucas stood up. “I’ll drive you.”

His quick movements startled you. He stepped forward, as if it was already decided. You wouldn’t be able to convince him that you didn’t need a ride, which is how you ended up sitting in his passenger seat, your knees knocked together, and your bag clutched tightly to your chest. So, he wasn’t the type to root through the trash, but it seemed like he was looking through you, instead.

“Where am I driving to today?” he asked. He stuck his key in the ignition. He opened the window and inhaled the air, like it was the first time he was breathing. “I’m free. You could ditch your friends and drive around with me, like we used to.”

You smiled to yourself when all the memories resurfaced. Whenever you and Lucas got into arguments, you didn’t let it draw on for hours. He suggested you take a car ride together. He would drive, and you would sit in silence until he made you laugh like clockwork. You always wound up somewhere secluded, you sitting on the hood of his car and him apologizing for whatever he did. On the rare occasion, you were the one apologizing, offering him your body on whatever surface was publicly available.

“But we’re not arguing.” you said. “Why else would we need to take a ride?”

Lucas looked over at you. You could see all of the questions in his eyes, the way he turned his head so he wouldn’t have to ask them. “Right. I guess there is no need, then.”

He took your hand and held it between you and him. You thought of the couch being wedged between you, and now the console. If Lucas was able to read minds, he would read all of the things you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize for. About the job. About the ring. About all the walls you were building around yourself to keep him out.

Lucas dropped you off in front of a bakery. You said you were meeting an old friend, which was true, but it was the only truth.

You walked a few blocks away from where Lucas dropped you off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You kept looking over your shoulder, peering into windows of passing cars to make sure Lucas wasn’t in one of them. You probably looked as crazy as you felt.

As you arrived at your destination, you got a text message from Lucas. You looked around one more time before diving into your phone.

Lucas: Text me before you come home. I’d like to clean up the place before you get in. Love you so much.

You: Love you.

You stowed your phone back into your bag and looked up at the restaurant you had stopped in front of. The sign hanging from an iron hook was hard to read, but you had been coming there for a long time, and you didn’t need a sign to know you were at the right place. The door swung open, a little tinkling bell alerting everyone in the near vicinity that a customer had left. The person held the door open for you, so you did a little jog to get inside.

You didn’t normally like buffets, and you definitely didn’t like little hipster buffets nestled between chic coffee houses and insurance agencies. On the outside, it looked a bit like a cafe; it was so nondescript. On the inside, it was anything but. Besides the unsettling minimalism on the walls, everything else was chaotic. The first room, the dining room, was full of mismatched chairs: bean bags, beach chairs, stools of various sizes, and the random childs tricycle seat. Each table looked like it had been thrifted from different cafes and upscale restaurants. If you were a tourist looking for a place to eat and you had walked in, you would surely walk right back out.

“Is he here?” you asked the hostess waiting at the front. She stood at a podium made of discarded cutlery.

“Punctual as always,” she said. “Talking to the servers, no doubt scaring away the customers. You know how he is.”

You thanked her and glided through the dining room, avoiding the eyes of the people eating. It was rude to stare as someone ate, and if he saw you staring, it would turn him off. He was all about manners of every kind.

You found him at the serving station, standing between each table talking to the man who owned the place. His back was turned to you, his small frame handsome, even from behind. You gandered at the food on display. There were so many options gathered in one place; a taste of the city, if the city ate with childrens cutlery shaped like zoo animals.

You stood and waited for him to stop speaking. You looked down at your heels, the patent leather shiny and new. The dress you wore was skin tight and left very little to the imagination. Tan, so as not to hurt his sensitive eyes. You thought you looked like a cheap whore trying to look expensive, but it was always less about the clothes, and more about being able to see every curve of your body. With him, unlike with Lucas, nothing was hidden from sight.

You were surprised Lucas hadn’t asked who you were dressing up for, but he was so oblivious to fashion, that he probably assumed you and your friends were trying to out-pretty eachother. As long as you didn’t leave the house wearing designer clothes, your boyfriend would hardly notice a thing. Even if he did, you knew he’d never say anything about it.

As if feeling you standing near him, he stopped speaking and turned toward you. He searched your eyes, his lips wondering whether or not they should pull up into a smile.

“You’re late.” he mouthed.

You smiled apologetically, meaning it.

Xiaojun. If happiness was a face, it belonged to him. He was always smiling, always making friends wherever he went. Everyone loved him, and it was a genuine love. You started to believe that he collected people like one would collect hats, and that maybe you were one of those lucky people. He told you once that he had to smile and talk to everybody, or they would talk about him first.

Xiaojun excused himself and made his way across the room. You gave him your cheek, bending down a little because he was shorter than you, and he kissed it. Xiaojun didn’t love public displays of affection. He took your hand and started introducing you to the new foods the restaurant was bringing into their daily mix. For Xiaojun, it would be the highlight of his day.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

You nodded excitedly, but your insides felt like knotting up. You had purposely not eaten for this moment, knowing what was required of you. Yet, your appetite was anything but big.

“Good,” he said. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I’ll whip you up a plate, love.”

You went and found a table surrounded by child-sized chairs someone would find in a doctors office. Xiaojun would find it funny to see your larger, adult body in a chair too small for you. You sat, checked your teeth in a mirror and pulled out your phone to check your messages. When you were with other clients, you would never dare check your phone, but Hendery’s texts were coming in so frequently that you didn’t have a choice.

Hendery: I miss you.

Hendery: I’m bored.

Hendery: Can we fuck later?

Hendery: I saw this program earlier and it reminded me of you.

Hendery: So, I was thinking.....

You put your phone away as Xiaojun turned the corner. He had three plates of food: one plate in each hand, and another balancing on his forearm. Like a pro, he set them down on your side of the table without spilling anything.

“Good choice of seats.” he said, sitting down.

There wasn’t any food in front of him. You looked down at the food in front of you and felt the knots in your stomach tightening. Xiaojun didn’t let any of the food touch, but the plates were still full of steak, fish, potatoes and rice. You took a napkin off the table and folded it over your lap.

“You look pretty today.” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, careful to keep your manners up to par.

You picked up your plastic shark fork and started eating. Rice first, veggies next. You ate slowly, chewing thoughtfully, looking up at Xiaojun after swallowing each bite. His head was leaning on his hand, and he had a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, smiling. “Is it me? Have I done something?”

“No!” you were quick to say. You took a sip of water to wash the food down. “I have some things going on in my personal life.”

“Ah, it’s like that.”

“Yeah,” you said. “But this food is really good, and I can’t imagine sharing my company with anyone else in the world.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

You shoveled more rice into your mouth, closing your mouth to mind your manners. You didn’t speak until it was all chewed and swallowed. “ I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Xiaojun, you know you’re my favorite.”

He didn’t believe it and neither did you, but it was the fantasy that kept you going. Xiaojun leaned back in his chair and watched you devour two full plates. As you got to your third, you could see the lust in his eyes. You turned to the side so he could see how bloated your belly was.

“Still hungry?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes, very.” you said. “I’m famished.”

You finished the third plate of food. Xiaojun went up to get you a plate of dessert, which meant that you didn’t have to pretend much anymore. You felt like vomiting from all the consumption. You sat back in your chair as much as you could and kicked your legs out until you were almost laying horizontal.

Eating. It was Xiaojun’s thing. He never ate himself, and in the beginning, you wondered if food was an issue for him. He opened up on the second date, eating a morsel for himself before feeding you the rest of what he had ordered. For Xiaojun, it was more about the care. If he fed you, he cared about you. He loved nothing more than to get you food (always paying for it, of course) and watch you pig out. Seeing you so stuffed turned him on, and if your belly was a little swollen, he would get an instant hard-on.

You never knew about certain kinks until you were welcomed into the sex industry. Someone like Xiaojun might have scared you off if you were still green, but meeting him as an experienced worker helped the both of you. Xiaojun became a client, as well as a friend. And your relationship was even better, because it was him who had introduced you to people like Ten. Deep down, you also liked to care for others.

Xiaojun came back with a chocolate lava cake made special by the kitchen. He set it down in front of you like he had set down a solid bar of gold. You looked at the cake like he might as well had. Xiaojun paid very well, so it was easy to keep acting.

“I didn’t think you were that hungry,” he said. “One is enough. I don’t want you bursting at the seams, love.”

He sat down in his seat. He clapped his hands excitedly and picked up a utensil with a dolphin on the end. He would be feeding you for the grand finale. Xiaojun picked up a chunk and watched the chocolate dribble out onto the plate. In other scenarios, you would have wiped your finger in the pooling chocolate and brought it straight to your lips, but he wouldn’t have liked that. You opened your mouth and kept your hands by your side. Xiaojun stuck the utensil in your mouth. You chewed the piece, the chocolate too rich for you to truly enjoy.

When he saw that you had a chocolate morsel hanging from the corner of your lip, Xiaojun got out of his chair and kissed you clean. It was the only instance where public displays of affection and good manners were completely forgotten.

You felt so full of food as you left the restaurant. You wobbled a little in your heels as you walked. Xiaojun had his hand on your back, and he was checking on you to make sure you were okay. He kept looking at the bloat in your stomach, which meant that he was ready for sex. A car couldn’t come fast enough for him.

“I know I ask too much of you,” he said. “But we should do this more often. I really like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too.”

You leaned down to kiss him. No tongue, just a peck. When you pulled away, Xiaojun had hearts in his eyes. You’ve always wanted to ask him why he didn’t just get a girlfriend who he could feed and fuck. He was a very attractive man, with a heart of gold. He didn’t have to be alone. You never got around to asking him because you began to understand why someone would live like that. What you and him did was an escape, and that escape was untouchable. Inviting anyone else in would change everything, and change is what you hated most.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling bashful.

You looked at your feet before looking down the street for the car. It should have been there by now. You inspected the area. People were going in and out of cars, some rushing to get inside buildings and out of the heat of the sun. No one was stopping to watch life, no one caring about anything other than their own busy lives. You kept searching and searching for some sign that life could slow down, and that’s when you saw him: Hendery.

“What the fuck.” you whispered.

Hendery was standing across the street. He was watching you with Xiaojun. He looked like his heart was being torn in two in real time, the agony on his face displayed for all of the pedestrians.. Before you could make a move, he was leaving the area.

You turned to Xiaojun. “Stay right here. I’ll be back. Please don’t leave without me.”

“Is everything okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Yeah,” you said, walking. “Everything is just great.”

You didn’t know why leaving Xiaojun and chasing down Hendery seemed like the best idea. He looked so upset, which really shouldn’t have been your problem. Outside of the bedroom, Hendery was not your responsibility. But you had told him your whole life story, and you didn’t know how capable he was of tracking down a vet assistant named Lucas, and telling him all about you like he was some scorned lover.

“Hendery!” you called.

You could see him up ahead. You crossed the street. Once you hit the sidewalk, you started running as much as your heels allowed. Your feet hurt like hell, but you had to reach him before he did anything hasty.

“Will you just stop,” you yelled, coming up behind him. He was ignoring you. “You’re not making this easy for me, Hendery.”

Hendery stopped so suddenly that you almost collided with him. You turned to see if Xiaojun was watching, but thankfully, he wasn’t.

“Do you love him?” Hendery asked, spitting out the word love like it was dirty.

“What?” you asked. “Are you playing the part of the jealous lover now? I’m at work, Hendery. You know what I do for a living. You’ve hired me before, remember? ”

“You’re right,” Hendery said. “I’m sorry”

He started walking again. You followed behind, turning the corner with him. You didn��t have time to react before he was kissing you and pushing you up against the wall of a bank. His hands were all over your body. You pushed them out from going underneath your dress. You covered the bloat of your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “When I see you, I just…”

“It’s fine.” you said, trying to regain the upper hand.

A year or two ago there was a client who had fallen so deeply in love with you that he kept following you everywhere. He would show up when you were out with Lucas, which really made things complicated. You didn’t want to get the police involved, but Lucas insisted that no weirdo could keep harassing his girlfriend. Lucas never found out why the client did what he did, or that you had led him on for the sake of money.

“I think I should stop seeing you,” Hendery said. “You’re all I think about and it’s not healthy.”

Since taking his virginity, you saw Hendery multiple times. You never went back to your real home, but instead found hotels to fuck in. His sexual prowess had improved through practice. He was easily making you come twice a night when you were with him. It wasn’t the sex that had done it for him, though. You had started to relax your friendship with him, choosing to keep things business-only. As you did that, he started trying to get you to come a little closer again. The more you resisted, the more obsessed Hendery became.

“Sleep on the decision,” you said. “If you still feel the same way I-”

You didn’t know what else to say. There was part of you that didn’t want to lose the extra income that Hendery gave you. He was also easier to deal with when his emotions weren’t involved, and you really saw a future as friends with him.

“I don’t think I should talk to you again.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’ll never stop falling for you, and I should have known that everything you said was a lie.”

You thought about defending yourself, but Xiaojun had turned the corner and his eyes were going from you, to Hendery.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Hendery said. “Take this.” He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a few bills. He stuck them in the collar of your dress, which made you feel lower than you had felt in awhile.

You were in Xiaojuns bed, and he was in between your legs eating you out. He was good at it, but your mind was too far away and you couldn’t appreciate how tender he was being. You reached down to touch his hair as he sucked on your clit. You blinked away your thoughts and moaned on command. Oral sex was all you and Xiaojun ever did together, so he was bound to realize something was awry.

“Is it the boy?” Xiaojun asked, coming up for air. He kissed your inner thigh. “The one in front of the bank? The one that treated you rudely?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m sorry I’m not responsive. If you want your money back, I’ll understand.”

Xiaojun set his chin on your lower tummy. Your legs were over his shoulder, and your body was propped up by a pillow so you could see everything he was doing. He said, “Watching you stuff yourself was more than enough for me, love.”

You were thankful when Xiaojun got up and handed you your panties. You slid them on and sat on his bed, your dress still sitting like a tight ring around your waist. No client had ever gotten to you so much that they affected another.

“He caught feelings?” Xiaojun asked. He looked down at his cock. He was still hard. “Not hard to do with you.”

“Something like that.” you said, feeling sorry for Hendery. For Xiaojun. For Lucas. For yourself.

“Don’t take it personally,” Xiaojun said. “He just likes the idea of you. You probably fucked him better than any of his girlfriends ever did.”

“He was a virgin.”

Xiaojun sighed. “That explains it. He’ll move on. You’ll see.”

But will I move on? You thought. You didn’t have feelings for Hendery, but in the shortest amount of time, he was so ingrained in your life that it was hard to let him go. Normally, when clients moved on, you counted your lucky stars. This time, you didn’t know which part to mourn first.

“He gave me money for talking to me, like I’m some whore,” you said. “I think that’s what hurts the most.”

“People do crazy things when they’re hurt.” Xiaojun said.

You laid back on Xiaojuns bed. He laid back with you, his face angled towards yours. His breath was sweet. You thought about kissing him then and there, but he didn’t feel like a paying client, and you didn’t want to make the moment any more weird than it was.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat me out some more?” you asked. “Or I can fuck your face? You always like it when I fuck your face.”

Xiaojun laughed. “That, I do.”

Before going back to Lucas, you stopped at your apartment and changed clothes. You had finally found Ten’s blanket hidden in the hordes of laundry you still had to do. After putting on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you walked around the apartment, thinking about how you should make it more inhabitable and finally move in, once and for all. You could cut one place out and make room in your crazy life for something else.

There wasn’t much distance between your faux apartment and Lucas’. You could walk there, which is exactly what you decided to do. Since it wasn’t that far, there was no reason you couldn’t make the lie more believable. Besides, you were getting tired of going to so many places at once.

You pulled out your phone and pulled up Lucas’ name. You took a deep breath before you texted him.

You: on my way home..it’s a beautiful night for a walk.

Lucas: You’re walking? I’ll come get you. Let me know where you are.

You: NO....clean like you wanted..knowing you, the place is a mess ; )

Lucas: Okay, but be careful. There are a lot of crazy people out there. A lot of freaks.

You walked the way home thinking about all your little freaks. Each one fit into your life in a box, stored away in your messy closet of a mind. Eventually, you figured they would either sort themselves out, or you’d be around long enough to watch every box tumble down to the floor, their contents spilling out for the world to see.

You hadn’t seen Ten since the last time. He mentioned how he had gotten a partner, said he would call you when they both wanted you around for a little fun.

Hendery texted you one last “I’m sorry.” after you left Xiaojun for the night. You stared at the screen for far too long, trying to think of something to say. Instead, you just deleted the message and kept it moving.

Xiaojun was so sweet after you left. He gave you the biggest hug and told you everything would work out if you let it. It all had to start with you. You wanted to believe it.

You made it to Lucas’ apartment in ten minutes, out of shape and out of breath. You stood on the steps, just listening to the life of the city, before going inside. You trudged up the steps to the sound of music coming from inside of the apartment. You opened the door and were met with candles and a record player, and Lucas on one knee.

“I know what this looks like,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

“It looks like a proposal.” you said, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Lucas smiled. “Would you want to marry me?”

You didn’t answer because you didn’t know what to say. Lucas looked down at the little box he held in his hands. He got off his knees and stood up, his body casting shadows on the walls.

“I’ll take that as a no.” he said.

“We’re too young,” you said. “But I do love you, Lucas.”

You expected him to put the box away and break up with you. After all, what girlfriend rejects a proposal before it even happens. But Lucas just smiled and shook his head, as if your reaction was totally expected. He held the box out to you and opened it. Instead of a ring, inside was a silver key.

“I want you to move in with me,” he said.” And then, when you feel like we’re old enough, I’d like to make you an honest woman.”

Honest woman? How apt, you thought.

You looked down at the key. There were so many questions swimming in your mind: A key? Where is the ring I saw? What the fuck is going on? But they were all swept away with the tide when you nodded, a single agreement sealing everything. Lucas came and lifted you off your feet.

“Now,” he said. “Let's make passionate love on our new couch. I don’t care if you’re on your period.”

173 notes · View notes

peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 30

The Stars Look Very Different

Social Media AU

previous chapter

tag list: @yellowballoon @cleocc @ijzermanora @boldlydeepestcupcake @pduwd @notallthereyall @gingerhead007 @groeneweiden @nyttvera @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @curiouskopf @engelkeijsers @xiaomailab @honeyandsinn @lauren-bk @saraben00 @tailsbeth @boysrunaway @howlingsaturn @menamesniall

I only decided to do this this morning and that’s why it’s so late. super sorry. I hope you still like it ❤️ and as always, sorry for any mistakes

Warning: discussion of mental illness

~^~

Robbe pulled Sander after him, away from where Jens and Lucas were still curled up on the sofa, into his bedroom where he could shut the door tight behind them. He almost expected Sander to flop right onto his bed, but instead he stayed right behind Robbe, ready to bring him closer once he turned, shifting a hand into his hair and connecting their lips.

Robbe made a small sound in his throat and then sighed, gripping at Sander’s waist to pull him closer, even though the other boy had already done well at eliminating the space between them. Still, the kiss was kept soft, free of their usual urgency but with a familiar neediness, the constant desire to be ever closer. This was evident when Sander pulled away only to press his forehead against Robbe’s, eyes shut and hand still firm on the back of his neck, not letting him pull away. Robbe wouldn’t have even if Sander wasn’t holding him. He had no reason to want to be anywhere else.

“Your bed looks very appealing,” Sander mumbled, lips brushing against Robbe’s.

Robbe hummed. “You also look very appealing. I think a combination of the two would be truly mind blowing.”

Sander huffed, and Robbe just had time to trace a fingertip over his smile before he leaned back in for another kiss. Robbe gladly reciprocated, but moved his hands to slide under the edges of Sander’s zip-up hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the end of his bed. Then he gave the same shoulders a careful push, and Sander let himself be guided backwards, finally falling onto the mattress with a pleased sigh. He held his arms out immediately, however, making grabby hands towards Robbe, who complied without an ounce of hesitance, crawling over Sander and settling on his hips. He cupped his face and squished his cheeks, making Sander laugh through puckered lips that Robbe eventually leaned down to kiss.

“This is why it’s better being at yours,” Sander mumbled, and Robbe couldn’t argue. He ducked his head down to trace kisses along Sander’s jawline, peppering his cheek, the spot behind his ear, further down his neck. Sander melted further with every press of his lips, sinking lax into the bed underneath him. It left Robbe grinning against his skin, nipping at it lightly with his teeth to make Sander whine and squirm away.

Sander huffed as he pushed Robbe off him, only to follow him onto their sides and pull him back in by the waist. Robbe giggled and slid his hands back over his cheeks as he kissed him again.

“Wait, do that again.” Sander drew his head away, gazing at Robbe in something a little too much like awe, making him turn his face into the pillow and groan.

“Do what?”

“That little giggle.”

Robbe groaned again. “Oh my god.”

“Please, Robbe, it’s so cute. What do I have to do?”

“Leave me alone, preferably.”

Sander pouted, shaking his head rapidly at Robbe’s denial, squeezing his sides pleadingly. It had the unintended effect of making Robbe wriggle, an aborted laugh escaping him.

They both froze.

“Oh my god—“

“No,” Robbe warned.

“—you’re ticklish,” Sander finished, and now that was definitely awe. “Oh my god. Why did I not know that?”

“I am not ticklish.”

Sander rose a disbelieving brow. His fingers twitched against Robbe’s side. Robbe’s hand flew down to still them.

Sander snorted and kissed his nose, tugging him in closer and slotting a leg between Robbe’s. “Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” Robbe breathed, in the instant before Sander’s lips connected with his and all words were lost. He couldn’t help but make this kiss deeper, threading his fingers into Sander’s hair and parting his lips. The faint ache in his head had all but slipped away, soothed under Sander’s gentle touch.

Sander himself was a little more lethargic than usual, but no less responsive. He reacted easily to Robbe, lips parting and tongues tangling and hands drifting. Robbe had to keep his grin under control as Sander’s hands slipped under his shirt, skimming over his sides to settle against his back, tracing light patterns. Robbe hummed against his lips and felt him smile, and then Sander brushed over a faint scar.

Robbe’s heart skipped, but Sander’s movements hadn’t stopped, so Robbe kissed him harder and hoped that would be enough. Instead Sander’s hand trailed back over his side, around to his front, and landed on another old mark.

“You really like getting yourself into trouble, huh,” Sander said, and Robbe lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He didn’t want to discuss this.

Instead, he thought of a new tactic, and lifted himself up before pulling his shirt over his head. He rose a brow as Sander gazed up at him, unflinching, nothing giving him away but the slight uptick of his lips. It didn’t take long for him to reach out, sliding his hands back over Robbe’s skin as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. However, instead of drawing him into another kiss, Sander leaned forward and pressed his lips to Robbe’s collarbone, where another scar rested over the bone.

He looked up at Robbe through his lashes, and Robbe smiled at him and gave his hair a light tug. “And you call me the cute one,” Robbe mumbled.

Sander smiled brightly as Robbe traced a finger down his cheek and kissed his forehead. He remained silent as Robbe dropped back onto his pillow with a sigh. Sander followed, rolling onto his side to face him and waiting patiently.

“You remember how I told you about...why I’m staying here?”

Sander nodded, expression gentle. “About your mom?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Sander said softly.

Robbe offered him a smile. “I don’t, usually. It’s not really something I talk about. But I want to tell you.”

Sander’s nod was encouraging.

“She, uh. She suffers from psychotic depression.”

He waited, but nothing in Sander’s expression changed, so he went on.

“She’s always managed it okay. Even when she’d have her episodes of psychosis—she was brought out of them pretty easily. Then when I was thirteen, her mother died. She didn’t take it well. Her episodes got worse. But it was still something we managed, still something she had control of. Then I turned fifteen, and my dad decided he’d had enough. He packed up and disappeared. A few weeks later she was admitted for the first time.”

Sander gently took his hand where it lay between them, rubbing his thumb over the back of his fingers.

“I had to stay with Jens for a week. I’ve had to a lot of times since then. But I never wanted to—to actually leave her. We managed. She was only ever gone for a week or so at most, and it really wasn’t that frequent. Then this past year...it wasn’t so good. She’d space out more often. Talk to herself and then act like nothing happened. She was admitted again just days after I met you and they haven’t been able to release her since.”

“Fuck, Robbe,” Sander muttered.

Robbe shook his head. “When I went to see her—the time I told you about it—it was bad, Sander. They called me because they’d had to sedate her. She was convinced she was being held prisoner, that someone was coming to her. To hurt her. She knocked down one of the nurses. But when I went to see her—“ Robbe paused, choked, “—she didn’t know who I was. She just looked right through me. It was like she couldn’t see me, couldn’t hear me. She acted like I wasn’t even there. That’s never happened before. They called me because—because I’m the only one who’s always been able to calm her down. But she couldn’t even remember me. I meant nothing to her.”

Sander shook his head, ready to protest, but Robbe went on before he could.

“That’s why I drank so much and why I—why I just needed you there. I just felt so...so alone and so stupid and so insignificant. And I knew I’d stop feeling like that if I had you. I never feel like that when I’m with you.”

He looked between Sander’s eyes intently, begging him to understand, and Sander shifted forward and wrapped him up in his arms. Robbe sunk against him, tucking his arms around his waist as Sander kissed his cheek and then tucked his chin over his shoulder. He ran his hands soothingly up and down Robbe’s back, and Robbe was horrified to realise his cheeks were wet. But Sander hadn’t said anything, and he still wasn’t. He simply held Robbe together until he stopped feeling like he was about to crack apart, and Robbe clung to his shirt and allowed his comfort to seep through him.

“I’m sorry, Robbe,” Sander whispered against his neck. “I had no idea.”

Robbe pressed his face to his shoulder and shook his head. “There was no way you could have.”

“I could have been here more.”

“Sander, if you were here anymore, your parents would start to think you’d been kidnapped.”

Sander didn’t react the way he’d expected to the joke. He barely reacted at all. He just tightened his grip on Robbe and said, “You shouldn’t have had to deal with all that.”

Robbe shifted away, onto his back, as he shook his head. “She’s my mama, and I love her. Sometimes the worry just takes over. It’s just—the first thing they did was tell us all these ways it could get worse. Like she had more chance of developing further psychotic problems, or that it could develop into bipolar disorder. I don’t know how to deal with it sometimes. It just gets too much.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, harsh, as Sander remained quiet. When he looked over, Sander wasn’t looking back. He’d dropped his gaze to a spot on the sheets, even as he continued to stroke absentmindedly over Robbe’s hand.

Robbe smiled self-deprecatingly. “What a way to kill the mood, huh?”

Sander looked up at that, and there was something equal parts fierce and haunted in his gaze as he stared at Robbe. He moved his other hand up to stroke over Robbe’s cheek, then leaned forward to kiss him deeply. Robbe couldn’t even feel surprise, too relieved as he kissed back, allowing Sander’s intensity to encase him and remind him there was nothing unsure about this.

He pulled back and looked at Robbe seriously as he wiped the remaining dampness from his cheeks. “Thank you for being honest with me, Robbe.”

Robbe smiled, sneaking a short kiss to his nose. “Thank you for listening to me.” They lay and watched each other for a moment, and then Robbe chanced a lazy smirk. “I suppose it’s too much to pick up where we left off?”

Sander smiled again, and this time it was tired. “I don’t think this hangover is going to appreciate much more action, to be honest.”

Robbe snorted and gave his hand a tug, laying flat on his back again and drawing Sander with him.

Sander lay his head on his chest and dropped a kiss over his heart, hugging him tightly around the waist. “I just wanna stay here with you for a little while longer.”

The words were no more than a whisper, and Robbe held him tighter and dropped a kiss on his head as a weight slipped from his shoulders. “You can stay as long as you like.”

#sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #wtfock #sobbe social media au #the stars look very different #tslvd

162 notes · View notes

kdrama-songs · 4 years ago

Text

Lee Soo Hyuk || Little Angel

► Requested Open? : Yes

► Word Count : 1909

► Rated : M

► Contains : Smuts involve

"An angel, huh?" he muttered against your lips. When you pulled away for air, his eyes were shining in the darkest black, filled with so much greed and danger. Every cell of your body knew this was wrong. Angels were supposed to despise demons. So not even god knew what you were doing here, trapped between a bedroom wall and his hot body against yours.

"Is this what angels do? Are you sure you're one of them?" he taunted. You must had been out of your mind. Any angel in their right state of mind would have never gotten into this situation, let alone submitted to this kind of teasing. And yet somehow, somewhere inside of you, Soo Hyuk words only lured you further under his spell.

"I'm an angel," you said. Soo Hyuk laughed. It was a deep, clearly amused chuckle at your claim. His hands toyed with the white, satin dress that was hugging your body. He pushed it further upward, until his fingers were touching the side of your hips. And still, you didn't stop him. In fact, every place he touched left you yearning for more.

It wasn't a yearning you were used to, not a sexual kind of need either. Rather it was pure curiosity. A crave for a matter of knowledge no angel should have.

His lips connected with yours again. They were hot and his tongue was forceful, drawing you in like a child drawn to candy. If you had not already been pressed against his body, you would have only wanted to get closer to him. You hadn't been sure where to place your hands at first, but now they were in his hair and he didn't seem to mind. In fact, whenever you pulled on Soo Hyuklocks a little, he let out sounds that were almost animalistic, something you had never heard before. Especially not caused by your actions.

For a moment he detached himself from you. Swiftly, he pulled his black shirt over his head. Your heart raced in your chest at the sight of his bare body. You must had stared, because he chuckled again and grabbed both your hands. Almost too careful for a demon, he held them and lead them to his chest. You watched with hesitation. He guided them to his stomach, until you touched his hips and he came closer again.

His lips were inches from yours. There was something in his breath, you couldn't make out the source, but it smelled intoxicating. There were so many new sensations and experiences coming over you in such a short amount of time, and yet you only wanted to know more.

"Little angel, tell me," he spoke, "Are you going to stop me if I say I would like to see you without this dress on?"

Should you have stopped him? Definitely. Did you? By the lord, no. Instead, you shook you head 'no', and a devilish grin spread on his face. It should have scared you away. Why were you not scared? You should have run when you still could. Now, you were under his enticement, and you were realizing there was no way out.

But you didn't mind. Your curiosity only grew when his hands slipped under the hem of your dress and pulled it up and over your head. You were bare in front of him. Angels didn't wear common human underwear. Again, his reaction was new to you.

Soo Hyuk's black eyes widened slightly, before a now familiar grin spread on his lips.

"It's a shame for angels not to use their body in the way it should be used," he spoke, pulling you into another kiss. You weren't sure what he meant, but it had to be sinful thoughts.

"I don't understand," you said, truthfully. He looked so deeply into your eyes, you thought you could see a spark of light in the black of his eyes. But it was probably just the reflection of the moonlight.

"I could use words to explain it to you. Or I could simply show you," he said. "Which one do you prefer?"

You liked talking. It was the best way of conversating, you found. But it was old, and you were used to it. And one more new thing wouldn't kill you now, after all this. And then curiosity got the best of you.

"Show me," you said. His lips twirled into an unholy smirk.

"Little angel, you're going to like this," he spoke, with an unquestionableness that even convinced you.

Soo Hyuk's lips were ghosting over your neck now, your skin even more sensitive there. But it was nothing compared to his hands. They wandered up your sides, tickling you a little, until they reached your breasts.

Your lips parted in awe when they stroked over your skin, thumbs running over your nipples. And then a sound came from your mouth. A small whimper, like you had never heard coming from yourself. Your hand flew to cover your mouth in surprise.

"I've never heard a sound so angelic," he said. "So maybe it's true, you're one of them."

So, he didn't want you to be quiet. Slowly, you removed your hand. Just in that moment, he kissed your breasts, his hands massaging them softly. Another whimper fell from your lips, and this time you didn't try to silence it.

A spark of guilt went through you. This was not right. It felt too good, making you feel selfish.

"I'm not supposed to do things only for myself," you said, voicing your concern, "This is wrong and egoistic."

He eyed you with curiosity, clearly not having expected your words.

"But you're not doing this for only yourself," Soo Hyuk said. Your head tilted. "Think of it this way, you're doing this for me. Because I love seeing you this way."

You thought about his words for just a few seconds. It was easy to believe him, because you wanted what he said to be true. Slowly, you nodded.

A shiver ran along your spine at his soft touch, and he bent his head to the crook of your neck. His breath was hot on your skin when he spoke.

"Did you like that?" he asked, his hands ghosting over your body.

"Yes," you replied, without faltering.

"I can show you more, if you want," he requested. His hand linked into yours. There's more? You were glad you had only thought those words, knowing he would have laughed at your lack of experience again. But then again, it was a kind of experience angels weren't supposed to have. They weren't even supposed to be curious about things like these. Your hunger for knowledge, however, never seemed to be satisfied that night.

"Yes, please," you said. This time, he didn't seem as surprised at your answer as he was before. But his wicked smile returned, and he led you over to his bed. Black sheets covered it, a stark contrast to your white dress that was now discarded on the floor.

You sat down on the edge of the mattress. With an asking look, you blinked at him.

"Go ahead, lay down, little angel," he said. You followed his instructions and climbed into the middle of the bed. It was soft beneath your weight, and it sunk further when he hovered over you. His skin was shining in the moonlight, but his eyes remained the pitch-black darkness you had looked into far too many times to still be holy.

Another small sound escaped your lips when he began to kiss down your chest. First, he payed attention to your nipples while his hands never stayed in one place for more than a second. Then, he went lower. An unknown part of you had the desire to close your legs, but he was lying inbetween them. Besides, you had no interest of following that desire. All you wanted was to know more.

He went from kissing your hips to his face hovering over your center. But before he continued, he gazed up at you. There was something about the dark eyed demon, looking at you from between your thighs, that fascinated you so much, it drew away every chance of fear.

"Watch and learn...and enjoy," Soo Hyuk said.

Then, he dipped his head. You sucked in a sharp breath the moment his lips touched your center. His tongue licked a stripe up your folds, before swirling around your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, almost as if it wanted to jump out. Stop worrying, you forced yourself, and let your head fall back into the pillows. You whimpered and had no idea what to do with your nervous hands, until you buried them in the sheets by your sides.

He was leaping at your entrance, then at your clit, drawing random figures against your center. In need, you whined, and your hips lifted a little whenever he lowered the pressure on your sweet spot. You were surprised at yourself, your body seeming to understand this feeling better than your mind could.

So, this was the thing humans did, which was considered ever so sinful. You didn't seem to understand. It didn't bring harm upon any being, nor did it change the world in a bad way. In fact, the way he grazed his teeth against your clit felt a lot closer to heaven than you had in a while. If your body so clearly seemed to recognize these kind of actions, why were you not supposed to experience them?

You whimpered in desperation when his tongue went over your entrance, your body knowing there was more to be learned. But you had a feeling you would find out another time. When he went back to concentrating on your clit, you noticed an unfamiliar knot in your stomach. But it didn't seem to be a bad thing, so you simply closed your eyes and focused on the feeling.

The louder and more frequent your whimpers became, the quicker his tongue would flick against your center. You felt your eyelids being heavier, and stars dancing in front of your closed eyes. His lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking and licking at the same time. You wished you knew his name, so you could call it out. Instead, you only whimpered more loudly than before.

And all at once, the knot in the pit of your stomach came undone. Instead of holding the bedsheets, your hands instinctively grabbed ahold of his hair. You had never felt such intense physical emotion, let alone pleasure. You let it wash over you, as your body arched against the mattress and your face turned to the side, burying in the pillows.

He kept up his pace until your legs were tightening around his head. Slowly, he detached his face from between your legs and watched you intently. It took you a while to regain your regular breathing and to meet his gaze. His eyes mirrored something similar to pride and fascination with your reaction.

"They'll never let me back into heaven," you whispered into the silence, the tone of your voice showing a lot less remorse than it should have.

"Doesn't matter. You're with me now," he spoke. You knew he didn't mean it in a possessive way, but rather in a protective manner. "After all, what's a demon without an angel?"

139 notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 5 years ago

Text

an angel for a demon (optional bias)

A/N: Hello I’ve returned and i’ve written something really sinful please send help...PS. You can read this without reading the other two parts, there’s no cliffhanger nor are the parts seriously connected...it’s really just three scenarios about the same pairing!

genre: smut (demon / angel AU), demon!optional bias (male) x angel!reader (female)

~1.9k words

[masterlist in description]

PART 2

PART 3

“An angel, huh?” he muttered against your lips. When you pulled away for air, his eyes were shining in the darkest black, filled with so much greed and danger. Every cell of your body knew this was wrong. Angels were supposed to despise demons. So not even god knew what you were doing here, trapped between a bedroom wall and his hot body against yours.

“Is this what angels do? Are you sure you’re one of them?” he taunted. You must had been out of your mind. Any angel in their right state of mind would have never gotten into this situation, let alone submitted to this kind of teasing. And yet somehow, somewhere inside of you, his words only lured you further under his spell.

“I’m an angel,” you said. He laughed. It was a deep, clearly amused chuckle at your claim. His hands toyed with the white, satin dress that was hugging your body. He pushed it further upward, until his fingers were touching the side of your hips. And still, you didn’t stop him. In fact, every place he touched left you yearning for more.

It wasn’t a yearning you were used to, not a sexual kind of need either. Rather it was pure curiosity. A crave for a matter of knowledge no angel should have.

His lips connected with yours again. They were hot and his tongue was forceful, drawing you in like a child drawn to candy. If you had not already been pressed against his body, you would have only wanted to get closer to him. You hadn’t been sure where to place your hands at first, but now they were in his hair and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, whenever you pulled on his locks a little, he let out sounds that were almost animalistic, something you had never heard before. Especially not caused by your actions.

His lips were inches from yours. There was something in his breath, you couldn’t make out the source, but it smelled intoxicating. There were so many new sensations and experiences coming over you in such a short amount of time, and yet you only wanted to know more.

“Little angel, tell me,” he spoke, “Are you going to stop me if I say I would like to see you without this dress on?”

Should you have stopped him? Definitely. Did you? By the lord, no. Instead, you shook you head ‘no’, and a devilish grin spread on his face. It should have scared you away. Why were you not scared? You should have run when you still could. Now, you were under his enticement, and you were realizing there was no way out.

But you didn’t mind. Your curiosity only grew when his hands slipped under the hem of your dress and pulled it up and over your head. You were bare in front of him. Angels didn’t wear common human underwear. Again, his reaction was new to you.

His black eyes widened slightly, before a now familiar grin spread on his lips.

“It’s a shame for angels not to use their body in the way it should be used,” he spoke, pulling you into another kiss. You weren’t sure what he meant, but it had to be sinful thoughts.

“I don’t understand,” you said, truthfully. He looked so deeply into your eyes, you thought you could see a spark of light in the black of his eyes. But it was probably just the reflection of the moonlight.

“I could use words to explain it to you. Or I could simply show you,” he said. “Which one do you prefer?”

You liked talking. It was the best way of conversating, you found. But it was old, and you were used to it. And one more new thing wouldn’t kill you now, after all this. And then curiosity got the best of you.

“Show me,” you said. His lips twirled into an unholy smirk.

“Little angel, you’re going to like this,” he spoke, with an unquestionableness that even convinced you.

His lips were ghosting over your neck now, your skin even more sensitive there. But it was nothing compared to his hands. They wandered up your sides, tickling you a little, until they reached your breasts.

“I’ve never heard a sound so angelic,” he said. “So maybe it’s true, you’re one of them.”

So, he didn’t want you to be quiet. Slowly, you removed your hand. Just in that moment, he kissed your breasts, his hands massaging them softly. Another whimper fell from your lips, and this time you didn’t try to silence it.

A spark of guilt went through you. This was not right. It felt too good, making you feel selfish.

“I’m not supposed to do things only for myself,” you said, voicing your concern, “This is wrong and egoistic.”

He eyed you with curiosity, clearly not having expected your words.

“But you’re not doing this for only yourself,” he said. Your head tilted. “Think of it this way, you’re doing this for me. Because I love seeing you this way.”

You thought about his words for just a few seconds. It was easy to believe him, because you wanted what he said to be true. Slowly, you nodded.

A shiver ran along your spine at his soft touch, and he bent his head to the crook of your neck. His breath was hot on your skin when he spoke.

“Did you like that?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your body.

“Yes,” you replied, without faltering.

“I can show you more, if you want,” he requested. His hand linked into yours. There’s more? You were glad you had only thought those words, knowing he would have laughed at your lack of experience again. But then again, it was a kind of experience angels weren’t supposed to have. They weren’t even supposed to be curious about things like these. Your hunger for knowledge, however, never seemed to be satisfied that night.

“Yes, please,” you said. This time, he didn’t seem as surprised at your answer as he was before. But his wicked smile returned, and he led you over to his bed. Black sheets covered it, a stark contrast to your white dress that was now discarded on the floor.

You sat down on the edge of the mattress. With an asking look, you blinked at him.

“Go ahead, lay down, little angel,” he said. You followed his instructions and climbed into the middle of the bed. It was soft beneath your weight, and it sunk further when he hovered over you. His skin was shining in the moonlight, but his eyes remained the pitch-black darkness you had looked into far too many times to still be holy.

“Watch and learn…and enjoy,” he said.

So, this was the thing humans did, which was considered ever so sinful. You didn’t seem to understand. It didn’t bring harm upon any being, nor did it change the world in a bad way. In fact, the way he grazed his teeth against your clit felt a lot closer to heaven than you had in a while. If your body so clearly seemed to recognize these kind of actions, why were you not supposed to experience them?

You whimpered in desperation when his tongue went over your entrance, your body knowing there was more to be learned. But you had a feeling you would find out another time. When he went back to concentrating on your clit, you noticed an unfamiliar knot in your stomach. But it didn’t seem to be a bad thing, so you simply closed your eyes and focused on the feeling.

“They’ll never let me back into heaven,” you whispered into the silence, the tone of your voice showing a lot less remorse than it should have.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re with me now,” he spoke. You knew he didn’t mean it in a possessive way, but rather in a protective manner. “After all, what’s a demon without an angel?”

3K notes · View notes

marvelatthehottotties · 4 years ago

Text

Steven Grant Rogers - Chapter 1

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol use, bit of angst, bit of fluff.

Masterpost Prologue

Co-authored by @keliza

Masterpost

He was long and lanky. He’d been slow to grow right up until our senior year of high school. Junior year he’d left for the summer and in just three short months it seemed like he’d sprouted right up into the 6’2” bean pole.

You’d always liked Steve. Most girls gravitated towards Bucky, the well off, naturally charming mechanic that Steve was connected at the hip with. Not you.

It was always Steve, with his gentle blue eyes and his kind smile. Just once you wanted to know what it felt like to hold his hand or how he’d kiss.

You always imagined he kissed like John Thorton at the end of North and South. How many times had you fantasized that he brushed his hand over your skin and breath a little breath to blow away your insecurities like he had with his sketchbook.

You’d glanced once to see what he drew. Mostly doodles, but once, you’d seen a face. One that broke your heart. Ms. Carter. Your senior lit teacher. He drew her in such a lovely way there was no doubt to his affections for her. And how could you ever compete with someone as fierce and intelligent as Ms. Peggy Carter.

You tended to shy away from him for the most part. Usually too worried about being a nuisance to really try to hold a conversation with him. You were honestly surprised to go see him go to school. He came from a poor family, you knew his mother was sick. It made your heart ache to watch him go through what you did.

Then it happened.

Sarah Rogers passed away and he was devastated. So was Bucky if you were being completely honest. He and Steve were like brothers, and towards the end of high school he lived with them, right around the time his dad cut him off. You put everything aside. You went to Bucky and asked if there was anything you could do to help. You did a fundraiser to help raise money for her funeral, they didn’t have health insurance, let alone life insurance. Steve tried to deny the help at first but he slowly opened up.

Somehow you ended up even more in love with Steve than before. It wasn’t hard. Bucky teased you in private about your crush on the little dork who never backed down from a fight. Now here you were, about ready to finish up your senior year with your two best friends. Ready to graduate, to flee the nest.

The music was so loud in the backyard it was hard to hear right next to the speaker. But thankfully you didn’t have to stay by the speaker. You saw the blond hair that you’d spot from anywhere. The hair your eyes always searched for. It was habitual now.

You break into a grin at seeing him. He smiles back. His gentle, amused smile that says he’s feeling a bit mischievous tonight. It’s so distracting you aren’t prepared to be lifted off your feet. Letting out a squeal of terror, you kick your feet. “BUCKY! PUT ME DOWN!”

“Down you say?”

“Don’t you dare!” You meet Steve’s eyes just as you leave Bucky’s arms. Time slows as you see the grin break out of Steve’s face. You inhale as fast as this slowed time allows you to. The water is warm when you hit it. No guarantee it would be when you climb out. Of course, there was nothing like seeing that twinkle in his eye.

Time stayed slow under that water. Bubbles surged around you, when it cleared you gazed about the pool. Red solo cups had sunk to the bottom of the pool. There was a pretty pink bra near the bottom as well. A few glow stick bracelets shined from the bottom as well and legs kicked about. A couple guys were wrestling near the other side.

Why was water always so comforting? You wonder idly, listening to the dull noise of music filter through the water. It was so soft and quiet.

You just wanted to stay down here, to float. It sounds morbid.

When the blond appeared above the ripples of the water, you forgot about the water and pushed off the bottom of the pool, surging up to break the surface of the pool. “You’re an accomplice, you know?” You hum to him. He chuckles at you, hands stuffed in the pockets of the pants he couldn’t fill out yet.

“That only counts if I knew about it beforehand,” he replies. You shoot Bucky a hard look, but not too hard. You could never mask your true feelings to them. Instead you just soften into a grin and giggle.

“You’re dead, Barnes.” He smiles as Steve holds out a hand to help you out of the water.

“Sure, sure.”

“Been here long?” Steve asks you.

“About ten minutes. Thankfully I left my phone in my car.”

“I tried to call you,” he replies, with a shrug. “Explains why you didn’t answer.”

Wringing out your hair, “To repent, you gotta get me a drink, Buck.”

“Haven’t gotten one yet?” Bucky asks.

“Nah, was waiting for my body guards so I could feel extra special.”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll get the princess a drink.” He gives a dramatic bow and then turns to head inside to where the jungle juice lay. Leaving you with Steve.

“To the balcony?” You ask.

“Sounds good.”

There was an ease about being with Steve, one that wasn’t there before. He made things easier. Made things better. There was no doubt that you loved Steve, even if he wasn’t for you. How you longed to be his muse like Ms. Carter was. He was like dawn on a winter morning, long awaited. He was warm sunshine melting the snow. He was a necessity. You’d prayed so many nights that you could be good enough for him, but you weren’t sure. God could be so cruel.

Soon, you both had made your ways onto the balcony. Exactly where you always went when Tony Stark threw parties at his parents house. He’d moved across the country after high school to go to school at MIT. A smart kid, he’d gone from quiet, like he couldn’t bother with anyone, to a cocky asshole. His parties were statement pieces. Tradition in our little town. There wasn’t much to do besides parties around here. Steve wasn’t a big fan, you knew.

He’d much rather be at home, drawing memories of his mother. A heart breaking experience for you. This at least got him out. Once he even participated in one of those games. Bucky had talked him into playing the game with cards. Where you have to pass the card by lips alone. It had been Bucky’s plan to get Steve to kiss you.

It had not worked.

He’d hoped you’d both finally be able to admit feelings. But it hadn’t worked. Steve ended up locking lips with another girl. Not just once. The girl had spent the night kissing Steve exactly how you’d imagined to kiss, delicate, savory. His hands, brushing hair from her cheeks like she was a flower. At some point you couldn’t take it anymore. You shuffled away, looking for some relief from the awful pain of seeing someone else on him.

You found it, alright.

Clawing at some strangers back, hiding your tears and regretting the next never ending weeks. Hating that those hands weren’t Steve’s. The guy, who’s name you didn’t care enough to get didn’t have soft blonde hair, his hands were too soft. He didn’t smell like him. The whole thing took way too long to recover from. It took almost six months for you to even meet Steve’s eyes like you used too.

Now, you both pretended nothing happened. It had been erased like a nightmare fading after waking.

But dreams still came. You never expected to be Steve’s number one. His number two, maybe his number. When you fell in love with him, a little spot of necrosis began on your heart. It expanded every time you gave yourself hope to be more. You’d settle to dream of him.

There was a recurring one that hurt more than anything else ever had, only because they were so real, you’d forget they weren’t. Waking up to his skin under your fingertips, he’d smile, gentle, free. His fingers black from charcoals, he’d drawn you sleeping, loving the morning light coming through the window.

You’d once told Bucky you hoped one day you could break away, and love someone else. “One day, I’ll love someone more than him,” you promised. Alas, it wasn’t anytime soon.

“You cold?” Steve asks. As you shiver on the balcony.

“Hm? Oh, no,” you dismiss. “I’ll be fine.”

“Here, I’ll get you a blanket, I’m sure the Starks won’t mind.”

“Ah, thanks,” you reply and glance out at the party below. A familiar prickle rose in your gut. Something unsettling. You lean against the edge and ponder. It didn’t seem more than a moment before a voice tore you back, but not completely. There was something, almost like being underwater.

“Sorry, I took so long.” You frown at Steve, throwing a blanket over your trembling shoulder. You weren’t cold though.

“You were only gone a few seconds.” Steve chuckles.

“I suppose. I was gone for almost five minutes.” You shake your head at him, or yourself, you’re not certain. “Maybe you zoned out again,” he suggests.

You didn’t want to worry him, but it happened frequently. “Yeah, probably.”

“Where do you go when that happens?”

“I… There’s this feeling sometimes.” Steve frowns deeper. “It’s almost like the air gets stale… like… I feel like a ghost, Steve. Like I’m not living anymore and I’m just… stuck, just reliving the same moments over and over,” you breathe. “It’s not good or bad or numb… just like I get stuck in these little moments, you know?” Steve doesn’t reply, but he also doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy either.

“Well, you’re not a ghost, (Y/N). You’re alive. More alive than anyone I’ve ever met.” You meet his gaze. You take a moment and nod, reassured for another moment that all was well.

“Steve?” You ask.

“Yeah?”

“Is it too much to ask you not to leave me, I don’t care if this is dream. But when you get famous for your art, don’t forget about me, okay?”

“A dream?” He repeats. “Why would you ever want to dream about me,” he jokes.

“I’m serious, Steve.” You say, turning and fluttering a hand toward his chest. You hesitate, afraid if you touch him he would crumble into a thousand, thousand butterflies and float away to be gone forever. But when you lay a hand, he doesn’t crumble away like your dreams, instead you stroke the fabric of his collar under your fingertips.

“I would never leave you,” he leans down when you avoid his eyes. Making you meet his eyes, a tiny smile stretching on his handsome face. “‘Till the end of the line, right?”

“Right,” you breathe, like a relief. And suddenly your eyes are holding each other’s and it’s endless. Like one of those moments only you feel very much alive. He’s very close. If you pushed up onto your toes, your lips would meet. Would he want you too?

You could smell him. He smelled like clean sheets and his paints. Like the craft store.

“I got drin- Oh…” Both of you snap your heads. Bucky looked disappointed.

Both you and Steve shifted away from each other quickly, a coolness rising. Dosing us and sending us toward Bucky. The dark haired beauty presses his lips together like he was uncomfortable and heaves a sigh as the both of us took the drinks.

“This is gonna be a long night,” he sighs into his drink as I shuffle over to the patio furniture with them.

@tomisbaeholland

#steve x reader #steve x y/n #steve x you #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #avengers #avengers au #the avengers #college au

10 notes · View notes

viktorfm · 4 years ago

Text

(MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL, NONBINARY) - Have you seen VIKTOR SAMUELS? VIKTOR is in HIS/THEIR SENIOR year. The VISUAL ARTS MAJOR is 24 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say HE/THEY are OBSERVANT, INGENIOUS, RETICENT and DEPENDENT. Rumors say they’re a member of KINCAID. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY'RE HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH THEIR THERAPIST. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

dont. look at me. i know. anyways if it wasnt obvs i abandoned cupid (n darrow) in order 2 bring the two ocs tht he ws inspired by n ws a combination of bt. theyre better as different ppl methinks.

DEATH, HEAVY GRIEF, OVERDOSE / DRUG ADDICTION, HOSPITALIZATION, HYPERSEXUALITY, RELIGION MENTIONS TW

aesthetic.

old tvs and their static, worn tapes, horror movie screams, spilled ink, a sculptor’s hands, clay-stained, chicken scratch handwriting, messy notes, messy hair, scoffs and eye-rolls, bruised knuckles, sore throats, funeral homes and a crying preacher, shattered ceramics, knife fights, high ledges, vertically-striped pants, red lights, the moon shrouded in clouds, cigarette butts, graveyards and half-empty wine bottles, sitting there for hours and talking to nothing, about nothing, a god complex, gold rings adorning both hands, barbwire baseball bats, having never played baseball in your life, deep eyebags and broken mirrors, a permanent chip on one’s shoulder, yearning, longing, wishing.

basics.

full name: viktor phillip samuels

nickname(s): icky vicky :/

b.o.d. - january 2nd, 1996

label(s): the black hole, the crepehanger, the impious, the opaque, the tempest, etc.

height: 6′1″

hometown: preaker, vermont

sexuality: pansexual uwu

stats

favorite song: disorder, joy division / it’s getting faster, moving faster / now it’s getting out of hand / on the tenth floor, down the back stairs / it’s a no man’s land / lights are flashing, cars are crashing / getting frequent now / i’ve got the spirit, lose the feeling / let it out somehow

background.

born to mama and papa (preacher) samuels in preaker, vermont - fifteen minutes after his twin sister, tatiana samuels. years later, rosa samuels joined the gang.

was an awkward, quiet kid growing up, he didn’t interact well with others and preferred being left alone to dig up worms and draw on the walls of their childhood home. the only exception was his twin, really.

as he got older he grew out of this, but instead became like … sort of an asshole? maybe to compensate for years of childhood awkwardness. he’s the sort of person who will bite the hand that feeds him & developed into a full time nuisance by middle school, unlike tatiana who was much more subtle about her conniving manners.

always has been a fan of ‘darker’ materials. grim & creepy morbid shit. probably the biggest tim burton fan, ever since he was a kid … not a good look for a preacher’s son, but he never really felt ‘in’ with the rest of his family to begin with. classic black sheep syndrome.

drew disturbing pictures as a kid that probably prompted one or two or five phone calls home to assure everything was fine.

just really had a knack for art at a young age, from drawing to painting to playing with clay. it’s always been his thing and probably is the only thing he’s good at.

being twins with tatiana was hard. they were near opposite besides both being quite mean-spirited. tatiana handled being in public better, left a better image behind - but viktor had talent, more than she did. they loved each other deeply - y’know, those unbreakable twin bonds as cliche as it sounds - but found each other as competition for their parents’ attention. a rivalry for affection.

in high school is when viktor really started to act out. it started extreme, like losing his virginity in their church and vandalism around the neighborhoods. faked being possessed in the middle of sunday service & almost had an exorcism performed on him.

his only redeemable trait was like … just his sheer talent in the arts. was in a 3d art ap course and specialized in sculptures. he could pretty much create anything he wanted with enough dedication.

because he was the problem child, the one who deserved to be disciplined for all his antics, tatiana could sneak away and get away with whatever she wanted much easier. on the bright-side, for her, i guess.

not a very motivated person - wasn’t planning on going to college, much less going to yates but his parents literally wrote & sent his college application for him because they weren’t going to house a deadbeat but had too much heart to kick him out onto the streets. cool!

he’s actually pretty smart but he just doesn’t apply himself. has a minor in english because he didn’t care for an extra course-load, but he’s good at writing & analyzing literature. is going to use it to write and illustrate his own series of children books with a style similar to tim burton’s. not for the kids, but because he likes to leave a trail of terror in whatever he does.

has been experimenting with himself since high school but college is where he really had started to crack down on himself. was out as pansexual & nonbinary by his sophomore year of college just … not to his parents, who don’t really need to know.

if you asked him if he believed in twins having a psychic connection with each other - he’d tell you he wouldn’t know. it felt believable at times, but sometimes he had no idea what was going on inside of tatiana’as head. on the other hand - viktor had always felt oddly transparent to her, like she knew all of his moves before he did. the only person who could predict him accurately.

( tw death, grief, overdose / hospitalization beyond this point )

when tatiana disappeared, viktor knew something was up. it was a twist in his gut, pure instinct that something wasn’t right. and it wasn’t right - and when she was proclaimed missing, they couldn’t find her.

and when tatiana died - viktor knew. it felt wrong, something cut so severely in him he could pinpoint her death to the second. he didn’t know how, or why, but he knew it. knew it before anybody else had.

afterwards he went on a sort of bender. he’d begun to struggle with a mild drug addiction late senior year of high school / early college, but he was managing it up until this point.

his mental health had also sunk to an all-time low, when it’d never been great to begin with. (manic & depressive episodes. once fixated on a sculpting project for six months and then knocked it off the table and destroyed it as soon as he finished it for no apparent reason.)

tatiana’s body wasn’t found immediately, and when it was … viktor went off the rails. ended up overdosing & being hospitalized. spent six months in & out of psychiatric care after that.

came back to yates to finish his senior year because … for the reasons above, he hadn’t been able to complete it. just wants to get his credits and get out of here.

is still dealing with a lot of trauma & grief - causes him to spiral and be unpredictable in regards of his mental health. he stopped taking his medication, so. :/ some days are alright, other days are pretty bad.

personality & facts.

the human embodiment of a gremlin that was fed after midnight. a goblin, if you will. one of those cats with a narrow head and really big ears … that’s them!

a big horror & halloween enthusiast. loves the old campy horror movies & probably has an abundance of masks from different movies. dresses like a grimy millennial beetlejuice more than they should because they just … love those black & white vertical-striped pants.

can appreciate the ~urban legends~ at yates and likes to feed into the fear that surrounds them. is probably the cause of a few ‘anomalies’ and ‘paranormal sightings’ because they’re just … a jerk.

fashion alternates between e-boy (they would be tiktok famous if they were 17 & didn’t think that a majorly minor based app was weird.), millennial beetlejuice, and goth in a crop top & sweatpants. big fan of crop tops and a big fan of sweatpants.

they can be really fucking mean? petty, aggressive, a major instigator. will literally spit in your face for little to no reason, you could just look at them the wrong way. the kind of person who will stick their gum into someone else’s hair. other than that? they’re like … sort of okay. they’re not always mean, just a dick about 90% of the time lmao

like okay yeah they’ll call someone a stinky bitch for no reason except they feel like it and believes it. it’s fine, they’re fine, we’re fine.

despite the fact that they’re probably getting into a fight whenever, considers themself to be a lover and not a fighter but that’a primarily because they fuck a lot. uses it as a coping mechanism, like they’re this big fancy carnival show that’s like ‘come one, come all! fuck the dead girl’s twin brother!’ and it’s … a lot. might have a problem with hypsersexuality but they’re not fully aware of it.

the preacher’s whore son, basically :)

pansexual & nonbinary, switches between he & they pronouns often and without a pattern, but they have such a fragile grip on their identity that you could call them ‘dog-faced bitch’ and they’d turn around like. sup.

vastly impulsive … like i said, they destroy their own creations for the fun of it. spends all their money on useless shit, will cheat on someone because they feel like it & likes the thrill, screams into the night sky frequently like a cat in heat.

will also spend months creating useless shit for no reason too. spent six of them sculpting a hollowed out tree the size of them & then took a sledgehammer to it.

they’re very super dramatic. would play the organ at church when nobody was looking after them and service was about to start. would just churn out these super haunting, creepy melodies like they were phantom of the opera. would do the same exact thing at home on their keyboard with the pipe organ setting whenever they got grounded until their parents took it away hbdsjfngkh

will absolutely not talk about their ‘time away’ because it’s not anyone’s business, not even their own younger sister. still refuses to talk about tatiana’s death, or their mental health, or their addiction (fallen back into it but it hasn’t gotten severe … yet :/), or anything involving their own emotions.

will just change the topic abruptly, no warning. asks about the jonas brothers instead and they fucking hate the jonas brothers.

that being said they’re absolutely not over tatiana’s death & it’s to the point of obsession over it. like there’s some kind of secret that needs to be uncovered, even though there just. isn’t. tatiana was their rock and they were pretty much dependent on her. kept them grounded. could control them when nobody else could, got into their head easier than others. it’s sort of like rosa lost two siblings that day because viktor hasn’t been the same since.

emotionally unavailable while also crying twice a day. cries during their brawls but still wins. is stony-faced when they tell you they cheated on you with your much hotter best friend.

will tell you straight up what they want from you, no bullshit & no beating around the bush. just blunt. if they want to fuck, nothing else, then that’s it. if they feel deviation or developing feelings then they’ll ghost in less than a second. is awful like that but feels no shame.

but also emotional as shit and it’s confusing. will cry on a whim and then flip you off if you try to console them or ask them what’s up. will bite you.

they go to therapy but they just fuck around and wastes their therapists’ time … also is fucking their therapist, but that’s neither here nor there. so they’re not really getting the help they need.

likes to be intimidating but not … with their body or anything because they’re a twig but uses their love & knowledge of horror and creepy shit to their advantage. has an abundance of fake blood. has channeled the energy of jack nicholson and used it on tatiana’s boyfriends before (also is a big fan of sfx makeup & has dabbled in it)

probably chases kids around with a chainsaw without the chain on halloween every year.

generally never doing good, both mental health wise & morally. would probably steal candy from a baby for funsies.

i don’t know if there’s a good to them somewhere deep down, but they don’t see any issues with themself either. nothing really breaks through to them anymore because the only person who ever made them stop and think about their actions was tatiana, and well, y’know. :/

an introverted reclusive type who doesn’t like most people or going out, but does so anyway if it means a quick high & a cheap thrill.

pretty observant and likes to analyze people even though they’re often like … partially wrong. judgmental because they like to make people feel bad, not because they’re a righteous mighty person. because they’re not. so like, a hypocrite!

wanted connections.

religious trauma? oh worm ;; three cheers fr <3 guilt <3 anyways uh. just people tht viktor hs known thru the church in some way even tho hes a fkn. freak now. maybe even family friends.

the horror of our love :/ ;; hmm. any romance tht cld b toxic i think this cld fit. just rly a bad fit. viktor doesnt rly know hw to love so nothing rly lasts bt. maybe they try n try n nothing works bt they keep trying. cld also just be anything unrequited.

little fkn gremlins ;; theyre all evil n mean. bt theyre all friends. <3

you are nothing ;; uuh. enemy plots. spicy enemies. rly bad enemies. rivals. they r brutal towards each other bcos nothing viktor does is ever soft.

fuck u dont pity me ;; uh. people who try to get close to viktor n he just. bites at them. he’s like no. bc he assumes ppl who r kind in response 2 his vileness r. theres smth wrong w them. n it might hv to do with pity. n he hates pity.

ugh. locals x ;; ppl who also grew up around preaker, vermont. the samuels r <3 well known folks n the uh. hm. the murder is an ongoing case. so they cld know abt it <3

dont tell anybody x ;; this is for soft plots. i dont know much about soft plots but.

maybe i am part of the problem ;; the problem is chlamydiagate. this is a hook-ups connection. fwbs n one night stands. ppl viktor hs brutally ghosted. he doesnt acknowledge their existence outside of these events, perhaps.

dont u just wna go apeshit ;; this is where viktor becomes a bad influence.

bt uh. anything. pelase

#yatesintro #death tw #grief tw #murder tw #addiction tw #drug abuse tw #hospitalization tw #overdose tw #hypersexuality mention #religion mention #zooweemama

8 notes · View notes

viktcrr · 4 years ago

Text

「maxence danet-fauvel & nonbinary」⇾ samuels, viktor, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he/they are a capricorn and 24 years old. he/they are studying visual arts, living in noland and can be observant, ingenious, reticent & dependent. when i see him/them i am reminded of a sculptor’s hands clay-ridden, the insistent hum of tv static, and a crying preacher inside a dusty funeral home. ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

hllo !!! i’m james n here’s one of my big idiot muses <3 he’s not actually dumb he’s :/ a bit evil. bt thts okay hes still <3 beloved <3 LKDSFHLSADLKGFSHLKD anyways!

TW DEATH, HEAVY GRIEF, OVERDOSE / DRUG ADDICTION, HOSPITALIZATION, HYPERSEXUALITY, RELIGION MENTIONS, MENTAL ILLNESS

aesthetic.

basic info.

full name: viktor phillip samuels

nickname(s): icky vicky :/

b.o.d. - jan 2nd

label(s): the black hole, the crepehanger, the impious, the opaque, the tempest, etc.

height: 6′1″

hometown: rochester, new york

sexuality: pansexual uwu

stats

inspired by: beetlejuice (beetlejuice), sid (toy story), jack sparrow (pirates of the caribbean), francis wilkerson (malcolm in the middle), azula (avatar: the last airbender), vicky (the fairly oddparents), stu macher / billy loomis (scream), marshall lee (adventure time), bojack horseman (bojack horseman), any it’s always sunny character :/

biography.

born to mama and papa (preacher) samuels in rochester, new york - fifteen minutes after his twin sister, tatiana samuels. years later, rosa samuels joined the gang.

drew disturbing pictures as a kid that probably prompted one or two or five phone calls home to assure everything was fine.

just really had a knack for art at a young age, from drawing to painting to playing with clay. it’s always been his Thing and probably is the only thing he’s good at.

his only redeemable trait was like … just his sheer talent in the arts. was in a 3D art AP course and specialized in sculptures. he could pretty much create anything he wanted with enough dedication.

not a very motivated person - wasn’t planning on going to college, much less going to radcliffe but his parents literally wrote & sent his college application for him because they weren’t going to house a deadbeat but had too much heart to kick him out onto the streets. cool!

( TW DEATH, GRIEF, OVERDOSE / HOSPITALIZATION BEYOND THIS POINT )

afterwards he went on a sort of bender. he’d begun to struggle with a mild drug addiction late senior year of high school / early college, but he was managing it up until this point.

tatiana’s body wasn’t found immediately, and when it was … viktor went off the rails. ended up overdosing & being hospitalized. spent six months in & out of psychiatric care after that.

came back to radcliffe to finish his senior year because … for the reasons above, he hadn’t been able to complete it. just wants to get his credits and get out of here.

is still dealing with a lot of trauma & grief, especially since the one year anniversary of tatiana’s death was this month (january) - causes him to spiral and be unpredictable in regards of his mental health. he stopped taking his medication, so. :/ some days are alright, other days are pretty bad.

UPDATE: now that summer’s come n go ... viktor hs been thru <3 a lot <3 recently. switched therapists (his :/ last one got her license revoked) & started new medications, went to a treatment center briefly ‘cos .. he wasn’t doing too well :/ bt now he’s back baybey! trying to be better n trying to be sober but ... :/

personality.

the human embodiment of a gremlin that was fed after midnight. a goblin, if you will. one of those cats with a narrow head and really big ears … that’s them!

can appreciate the lore & cryptids at radcliffe and likes to feed into the fear that surrounds them. is probably the cause of a few ‘anomalies’ and ‘paranormal sightings’ because they’re just … a jerk.

like okay yeah they’ll call someone a stinky bitch for no reason except they feel like it and believes it. it’s fine, they’re fine, we’re fine.

despite the fact that they’re probably getting into a fight whenever, considers themself to be a lover and not a fighter but that’a primarily because they fuck a lot. uses it as a coping mechanism, like they’re this big fancy carnival show that’s like ‘come one, come all! fuck the dead girl’s twin brother!’ and it’s … a Lot. might have a problem with hypsersexuality but they’re not fully aware of it.

the preacher’s whore son, basically :)

vastly impulsive … like i said, they destroy their own creations for the fun of it. spends all teir money on useless shit, will cheat on someone because they feel like it & likes the thrill, screams into the night sky frequently like a cat in heat.

will also spend months creating useless shit for no reason too. spent six of them sculpting a hollowed out tree the size of them & then took a sledgehammer to it.

will just change the topic abruptly, no warning. asks about the jonas brothers instead and they fucking hate the jonas brothers.

emotionally unavailable while also crying twice a day. cries during their brawls but still wins. is stony-faced when they tell you they cheated on you with your much hotter best friend.

but also emotional as shit and it’s confusing. will cry on a whim and then flip you off if you try to console them or ask them what’s up. will bite you.

likes to be intimidating but not … with their body or anything because they’re a TWIG but uses their love & knowledge of horror and creepy shit to their advantage. has an abundance of fake blood. has channeled the energy of jack nicholson and used it on tatiana’s boyfriends before (also is a big fan of sfx makeup & has dabbled in it)

probably chases kids around with a chainsaw without the chain on halloween every year.

generally never doing good, both mental health wise & morally. would probably steal candy from a baby for funsies.

an introverted reclusive type who doesn’t like most people or going out, but does so anyway if it means a quick high & a cheap thrill.

wanted connections.

a roommate… but it’s an absolute nightmare to live with him.

enemies… because viktor would have a lot of them…

familiar faces… people who knew tatiana or of her / were her friends. maybe even those who dated her, and who viktor would’ve tried to intimidate / scare at any given chance :/

pitiful glances… people who take pity on viktor and he hates it sooo much.

hooligan gremlin kids… just a friend group of grown ass adults who do drugs and fuck shit up around town like they’re edgy teenagers.

high school girlfriend… probably the one he lost his virginity to inside his family church :/

childhood acquaintances… people who knew him from his youth.

exes… good & bad terms, but mostly bad terms because viktor is an actual demon. probably cheated on them.

soft… i don’t know if he’s soft towards anyone and/or is capable of it but we can try. we can try.

unrequited… either viktor just doesn’t like them or he’s holding back because he’s :/ got issues with relationships & is self-sabotaging as one does

enemies with Tension… of the … spicy kind if you know what i mean. wink.

friends… old friends, new friends, bad friends, good friends, close friends, frenemies, etc. i don’t know how many he had but if your muse likes to cause a ruckus and fuck shit up then viktor’s your man.

hook-ups… current or old. friends with benefits, one night stands, anything and everything because he fucks around a lot.

ride or die… friendship but make it extreme.

bad influence… he’s just toxic to be around and brings out the worst in people :/

bad egg… he’s gotten into a few fights :/ maybe you witnessed it. maybe you were in it.

literally anything i wld love all sorts of plots.

#ruhqintro #death tw #grief tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #overdose tw #hospitalization tw #hypersexuality tw #religion mention

17 notes · View notes

maltedmilkchocolate · 4 years ago

Text

It’s almost august and I don’t know how i’m gonna get all my work done for the end of september :’D Probably gonna fail this module. I can’t focus. Everything I draw looks like shit. This was supposed to be a film under 2 minutes, and I can’t even work out the problems in it, and this is only storyboarding. I still need to do the environment design, and this was also meant to become 3D so i was meant to contact modellers and i’m gonna fail my course. I am overdue a breakdown. Ahahahaha. Ah. Fuck. Fuck this. Fuck COVID. I was doing so well, I was gonna do great and now i’m rapidly falling behind on my last module, and it’s not fair because a fucking pandemic shot me in the foot. I don’t even know if this damn course is going to exist again next year, because this was the first year that it came into existence. Ahahaha;;; If i’m the only person to fail in a class of 5 people, I’m gonna lose my shit. I am so stressed. I just want to be back in a class room and have a regular routine and not be losing my mind 24/7. I’m sure things aren’t as bad as they seem, but from my POV it’s a dumpster fire and I’d like the world to explode so I don’t have to participate in a world where I need a job and money and won’t have wasted EIGHTEEN FUCKING GRAND.

And no one gets it, and I keep trying to ask for help, but despite what’s available to me, it’s not what I need because what I need is a fucking work environment in a studio. I can’t work from home. My brain doesn’t allow it. I need a rigid environment or I will crash and burn :D And it’s 3rd year uni all over again where there’s no classes and I’m not gonna get my final project finished, and this time, I don’t have a house full of other students on my course who are also stressed. It’s just me, on my own. I’m so scared that I’m going to fail at this last hurdle. And every time I get stuck on a shot, and I don’t know how to draw something, I panic and I keep procrastinating work, because it’s so daunting. And I end up doing all my work at like 3am, cause i’m less likely to give a fuck when i’m tired, and I’ll get more done. And I don’t really know where to go from here, and I have been asking for help, but eight times out of ten it’s not what I need. And I’m spending so much time trying to fix one problem, that other problems get forgotten. I need help and I don’t know where to get it, and if I fail this then i’ve wasted peoples money, and ONCE AGAIN i’ve hit the fucking bar ADHD holds over my head, and no matter how well I do, or how much I succeed, it always caps off, and I can’t go any farther, and everyone else races off ahead, and I’m stuck at the ‘had a lot of potential mark’. I really want to love what i’m working on. But all I can see are all the problems, and all the things not finished yet, and I hate it. I want to start from scratch, but I don’t have the time. Anyway, my 2 minute or under project is looking to be over 2 minutes, and that has spiralled me into nonstop crying :D I want to have all of this finished for tomorrow so I can show the teacher at 11am. I’ve stubbornly stuck my feet in this profession since I was 11 years old. I’ve sunk my teeth into it so damn deep, and I will never let go. But damn if I don’t keep being like ‘maybe i’ll just end up in retail for the rest of my life.’ I know this will pass. But just once, just for once in my god damn life, I was succeeding and doing well. It took 28 years of my life to be good at something and to see myself doing well and succeeding. And a fucking pandemic really went and bulldozed over that. I AM GOOD AT WHAT I DO. I really fucking am. But I can’t keep up with needing to do emails, and remember online events exist, and network online, and time-manage my work, and do all of these tasks so heavily reliant on having WORKING EXECUTIVE FUNCTIONS.

And through all of this, I just sit there in a state of apathy, smacking my head against the wall of executive dysfunction, saying why can’t i just do this, whilst simaltaneously avoiding it because I have to climb a mountain for each task I want to do, and it’s easier to not do that. I want to go back to university :D I want to be able to retake this module, and retake it at the university. Cause I really don’t know if I can salvage this.

COVID has ruined my life in a way that’s so minimal in the grand scheme of other peoples problems. But these are *my* problems, and I have never had help for ADHD my whole life until I got medicated at 26. And even then, medication alone didn’t do that much without something to work towards. And so when I joined this course last September. With medication, and routine, and people working around me, and easy access to teachers, and help... I was thriving for the first time in my life. :D I’ve watched all of that go downhill since June. Two months. It took two months for my life to fall apart, and undo a whole year of progress. I really can’t explain how crushed I am. Fucking hell. It’s really been 2 months since Module 4 ended and with it, all of the momentum and frequent daily meetings that kept me going at 110%. That feels like a slap in the face. All it took was two months and everything fell apart. Wow. That actually hurts.

#personal #vent #delete later #I hate working from home #i'm actually stunned it took two months for my life to fall apart #ahahahahahahaha #fuck #can i be an anime protagonist where I get this cool heroic second wind and overcome my obstacles against all the odds and win

5 notes · View notes

ccsthemovie2 · 4 years ago

Note

Character-Clow Reed

(avril lavingne voice) WHYD YOU HAVE TO GO AND MAKE THINGS SO CLOWMPLICATEEEED I SEE THE WAY YOURE ACTING LIKE YOURE SOMEBODY ELSE GETS ME FRUSTRATED- ok jokes aside LETS GOOOOO

Why I like them:

for all my angry yelling and kicking and complaining you may be surprised to learn that clow(riol) is one of my favorite parts of ccs!

i think that having the Mystery and Legend of a long-dead wizard that hangs over sakura’s head at the start get light shed on it more and more so that we can see he’s just a person makes the world of ccs feel small and personal. it really stabilizes the heart of the series, what i love most about ccs- that it’s a story about individuals and the choices they make. the magic itself all traces back to one man and the way he felt it was right to act and to treat other people. i think he’s a fascinating character and a very very good choice of central figure.

Why I don’t:

THAT SAID, AAAAAGHHHHH HE IS HORRIBLE HE IS JUST A TERRIBLE LITTLE MAN I HATE HIM I HATE HIM SOOOO MUCH. even putting aside everything he* pulls as eriol, just the things he does as clow reed make me SO upset....LYING ABOUT HIS DEATH??? ELABORATE SETUP TO PRETEND KERO AND YUE HAVE A CHOICE IN THE MATTER OF CHOOSING THE NEW CARD MASTER BUT ACTUALLY KNOWING ALL ALONG AND HAVING A SPECIAL MAGIC ITEM MADE TO SEE THAT IT GETS DONE??? BREEZING INTO A TOWN TO STEAL A FORTUNE TELLER’S BUSINESS, GETTING HER NICE AND KATE BEATON NEMESIS.PNG’D, AND THEN IGNORING HER FOREVER??? it’s bad!! *(it’s complicated,) ive said this jokingly before but i think he just doesnt even think about other people having agency, that he’s not trampling but Guiding and Helping. i think part of his controlfreakiness is also a deep fear that he’s not enough, that he can’t keep a friend on his own merits so he’s gotta get his claws sunk in as much as possible, whether by emotionally living rent free in people’s heads or magical dependance. and that’s not a uniquely horrible belief, yknow, i think it’s very human and normal, but the problem is no one can criticize him. not with the amount of control he has over the people he surrounds himself with, the fact that he can physically shut down kero and yue any time he likes, etc. it’s not that power inherently Makes You Evil, it’s that power made it harder for people to say “hey stop that”, and if no ones telling him to stop then he must be doing fine!

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

GENUINE TIE BETWEEN THE BACK TO THE PAST EP OF THE ANIME AND THE SAKURA SEES THE TRUTH SCENE IN MANGA. i think both of them are great- the tightly controlled dreamy guided tour where she sees just what he wants her to see, AND sakura outpowering him and seeing the reality of his lies. in the manga when sakura sees him gives gentle headkisses to kero and yue before putting them to bed and eriol+fujitaka-ing i go AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ....... THEY LOVE SOMEONE WHO IS TERRIBLE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUU MY HEART. i headcanon that’s when he mind-messed with them, too, i think he had to touch them to do it and that was how.

Favorite season/movie:

bold answer but im going to say the implications left behind in the clow card arc of Why Do Cards Act Like That/Have Those Specialties. what about clow made him want to make a voice-stealing card, a small-object-moving-card, a body-swap card, etc? it’s good questions.

Favorite line:

in the mokona book when they say he said dogs dont have owners they have housemates, bc that explains SOOOOO much abt him and how he treated kero and yue lololol. if you think being a pet owner and a roomate are the same you’re gonna treat your roomates, uhhhm, bad.

also if eriol counts its him in the wonderland ep like YOU DONT KNOW IF IM NOT THE KINDA PERSON TO PRETEND TO BE A CAT and I THINK YOU AND LI ARE SO DUMB I HAVE TO BITE MY TONGUE CONSTANTLY TO NOT INSULT YOU and BUT I CANT ACT LIKE THIS OR KERO AND YUE WILL KNOW IM CLOW. so like. was clow just like that then.

Favorite outfit:

uh his regular clothes are cool. theres an illustration on him in this cool coat with like a sun pin on it too. whenever i draw him in something frilly i have a huge brain. cant deny the guy has style and aesthetics. sakura’s first staff, look at it!! the style it has!!!

OTP:

im neutral-positive on clowyuuko cuz i havent holic’d since high school. you can refer to the answer i gave abt yue for clowyue thoughts (tl;dr: [touches ground] “something terrible happened here” ). madoushi is just kate beaton nemesis comic.

i think it would be funny if albus dumbledore was his ex.

Brotp

yuuko again i guess? and him and all his creations. headcanon territory even though that’s actually the next question but you asked for my thoughts so here they are: i think of him as trying to be a sort of fun camp counselor or teacher type for kero+yue and the cards- specifically a role with an authority behind it, but without the same sort of responsibility that a parent would have. or, i guess, lacking an unconditional love, always an undertone of you having to prove yourself. someone who you go to to learn from, but if he likes can also go “no no im just like you, now let’s have fun!”. it’s hard to explain, but there’s a difference.

what i’m trying to get at here is i think it’s significant that the only creations he has that we see him truly ‘raise’, (going by the info+lack of it we have, anyway, i fill in the blank for myself that kero and yue and the cards all showed up full of knowledge, fully formed, CLAMP DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!), were the mokonas, with yuuko. it was another person’s influence that brought a parental attitude in, it’s not something he ever wanted to be. there’s also a healthy dose of “yue textually had a crush on clow and i will not, no way, let you make that any more unfortunate than that already is”, i’ll admit, but i think that’s just a puzzle piece of the whole theory here. i think it would also be funny if he knew people like tolkein (eriol’s a tolkeinverse name if i remember correctly) and c.s. lewis (side note, i find the fact that clow is an actively practicing christian really funny), but i dont want to think too deeply about that sort of realworld mix, yknow.

Head Canon:

i think pranks were highly encouraged in his house and none of the clow cards are being intentionally destructive, just acting in ways that were totally normal at home, and are genuinely shocked to learn that people will get seriously injured without clow there to cushion their damage.

Unpopular opinion:

evil

A wish:

i wanna know what his pre-story days were like, his life with the cards, his life BEFORE the cards,

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen:

^ same the above but i find it out from clamp

5 words to best describe them:

did you know? clow sucks

My nickname for them:

clown, :kingboo: (discord emoji of him with a 🚫 over it), “the bastard jester himself” (which is, or at least was, in comedian-podcaster stephen buckleys twitter bio and i think it abt clow frequently, sorry stephen buckley), king of living rent free in people’s heads

#ask

4 notes · View notes

did-he-just-hiss-at-me · 5 years ago

Text

"You're My Hero" Pt 1

Warnings: getting robbed, minor injures, homophobia mention (lmk if i forgot any)

Summary: Virgil is a superhero crushing on Logan. Logan is crushing on the hero. Chaos goes down.

Ships: Analogical

AU: Superhuman!Virgil (NOT the same as my Supers AU)

Notes: idgaf if someone's done this already now enjoy. fic is inspired by this drawing so thank u op for drawing this!!!

Taglist: @bean-of-cheese @watchoutforthefanfics @notalwaysthebadguy @imnotalwaysthebadguy @tottalynotgayatall @phantom-moonfire @theoffical-virgilsanders @ayesthoughts @ollyollyoxinfree @aleiimm @virgil-is-baby-boi @ballisticfan123 @rosiethephoenix @thestarswelcomemewithopenarms

-----

Virgil Deckett was a hero. A hero with beautiful black feathers that faded to white. Flying above the city, on his usual patrol, he started monologuing.

"My name is Virgil Deckett. I have been a hero since my senior year of high school. I was blessed with large wings that I can hide at will.

Just like any traditional super hero story, I have a crush that I try to hide my hero identity from. Unlike other comics though," Virgil stopped to chuckle, "I'm gay."

"And my crush is my roommate, Logan Everton. I've known him since middle school and I realized I had a crush since my freshman year of high school. I got kicked out my sophomore year and went to live with my cousin, Patton Harper. That's when I discovered I had wings."

As Virgil continued to glide around, he glanced down at the ground below. He was right above Logan's workplace, Virgil subconsciously flew here. Logan.

Virgil could almost never get him off his mind. That crush has been there for ages, festering. Virgil wanted to be with him so bad, but it was risky, due to being a hero.

Later that day, Virgil arrived home. He walked in exhausted, only to find Logan on the couch watching something on his laptop. "Hey, L. What'cha lookin at?" came from the emo's mouth as he lazily flopped onto the couch beside the nerd.

Logan's face turned red a little bit as he confessed: "More... superhero bits from the news..." A nervous chuckle came from Logan. "To be more specific, it's today's footage of The Raven, my personal favorite." he giggled.

Virgil's face blushed red. Logan may be a big comicbook & superhero nerd, but no hero has never topped The Raven when it comes to Logan's favorite.

Virgil is The Raven.

Flashback to late sophomore year...

Virgil knocked on Logan's door. It was his first time ever going to his crush's house and he was nervous. You could even tell by the sound of his knocking, it was shaky.

Logan opened the door. "Hello Virgil." emptily came from the nerd's mouth. Back in high school Logan was a lot more closed off emotionally, but he still was friendly, it's just his lack of showing emotion was off-putting.

Logan went for a hug but stopped in his tracks. "Oh, is it ok if I hug you?" "O-oh, heheh, sure!" nervously agreed Virgil. He didn't expect that, and was completely freaking out on the inside, but he didn't want to ruin anything.

After the hug, Logan brought Virgil inside. He got to meet Logan's parents, then they went to Lo's room. When Virgil walked into the room though... He saw a big poster of himself. Or rather, The Raven.

Fear sunk into the pits of his stomach. Virgil knew Logan loved heroes, but he had no clue that The Raven was his favorite, despite him only being famous for three months now. It made Virgil shake some more. Not because it was bad, though.

Logan noticed Virgil staring at the poster and mistook it for the feeling of wonder. "Oh, you like the poster? I got it commisioned from Roman for my birthday last month." Virgil shook out of his state and looked at Logan.

"Wait, Roman, as in Roman Aveyard, the leader of the art club and frequent star in the school's plays?! No way!"

"Yes way, the Aveyard twins are actually childhood friends of mine."

"That's crazy! You think you could introduce them to me sometime?"

"Sure, although it's not that hard, they're super friendly and welcoming. Well, Remus is a bit more difficult because of, y'know."

Virgil chuckled. After time passed, and years went by, Virgil was used to Logan's obsession with his hero self.

Virgil snapped away from the flashback. "Haha, of course you are..." Virgil mumbled loud enough for Logan to hear. Logan looked away from the screen for the first time since Virgil got home only to see his reddened face. "Wow, are you ok? You look tired."

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a long day." Virgil yawned to sell the 'tired' excuse. "How was your day at work?"

"Boring. Though I did see the Raven fly over my workplace, so that was cool." Logan smiled. It was a beautiful smile, in Virgil's eyes.

Virgil so wished he could just tell Logan. But it would be weird since he's also The Raven. The thought just made Virgil's stomach twist. Not yet. It's not safe.

-----

It was another long day for Logan. He was walking home from work after working overtime, since it wasn't too long and Logan needed the exercise. He had been thinking about Virgil, who was probably home already, when he heard a cry for help.

Logan turned his head. It was coming from an alleyway beside him. He dashed down it only to get side sweeped and ended up falling on his face. His glasses were cracked on one side but the other side stayed safe.

There were four masked figures in all black in front of him, one them female. The woman, in a normal tone, went "Oh, help me! I'm soo scared!" and laughed maniacally. Logan had been tricked.

One of the men picked him up by the back of his shirt, while another man and the woman held his arms and legs so he couldn't escape. The remaining guy walked up and got semi-close to Logan's face.

Logan tried to get away but it was pointless. The man up in his space was quiet but still scary-sounding. "Alright you pathetic little nerd, cough up everything you got and we'll let ya go with just a broken ribcage at the rarest. If you don't comply, you'll never live long enough to make it home."

Logan was starting to cry at this point. He squirmed as much as he could, so much that his glasses fell off. He spat out "Heck no! Leave me alone!" only to to get a rough slap and a punch in the nose.

As the man who wasn't holding him dug through his bag, picking out every valuable he had and ruining everything else.

He was in major distress at this point. There was only one thing he could do.

Logan cried for help.

-----

[Good Ending]

[Bad Ending]

#logan #virgil #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #superhuman virgil au #kacey's original posts

29 notes · View notes