#I’ve never tried such an art style but didn’t turn out that bad
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Spoke 1MIL!! WOOO!!!
#lifesteal smp#spokeishere#spokeishere fanart#lssmp#lifesteal#lifesteal fanart#just fixed my phone today!#I can finally finish my wips#happy spoke 1 million!!#there’s so many people hitting one million this year#so happy for them#I’ve never tried such an art style but didn’t turn out that bad#maybe I should crank up the saturation more often this is fun#the twt version might be a little squished#milli art#:)
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about you ☆ cl16
genre: yearning, humor, pwp (smuttt, perhaps a bit dirtier than I intended, yikes), glimpse of fluff!
word count: 5.8k
Where Charles reminisces on his first love, where for a while, you were all his. First loves are portrayed as something you never want to forget or in this case, forgive. And it all started with a painting.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, doggy style, spit, squirting, teary eyes, teasing, polaroids (ha!), slightly mean/teasing charles
inspired by this and this !
“What about you?”
The group had settled into quite a comfortable spot, gossiping about first loves, if you really care about that type of thing, and spilling secrets. Seeing as it was late November everyone either had a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, courtesy of Lily.
“I don’t really like to talk about her anymore.” The room grows silent as Charles tries to play off the sudden shift. At times like these he almost envied the cold. The cold never once got questioned of why it was like that, but he knew the same wouldn’t go for him.
“Uh uh,” Daniel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “We all went around sharing, it's only protocol you do the same.”
If anyone felt Charles grow uncomfortable, they chose to ignore it. He can’t be too upset, before this he was enjoying his time, up until the attention turned to him. If it were anything else, he’d give it a go, but he knows too well that he can’t get out of this one.
“I’ll make it easier for you,” Lewis tries to ease the Monegasque. “How did you meet her?”
He feels quite sad that it takes him a while to remember, but eventually he recalls it all.
“I met her in LA.”
-
Staring up at the blazing sun you spill out dirty curses. You had been frolicking in the shops trying to find a decent vegan restaurant for your boss to enjoy. Digging out a hair tie from your tote bag has you even more irritated than you ever thought possible.
Stepping inside a small art gallery, you decide to refuge there for a bit. The cool AC instantly has you shutting your eyes in pleasure.
“How much for this piece?”
You pop an eye open before deciding not to spare a glance. “I don’t work here.”
The man lets out an awkward cough before excusing himself. “Sorry, I just thought…my mistake.” Feeling bad you turn your head.
“It’s alright, I should apologize as well.” Catching a first glimpse makes you hate yourself just a tiny bit for acting like a bossy LA girl. Didn’t help that he also had the nicest eyes humanly possible.
“I’m Charles.”
Mutually, you both spend some time walking around. He lets you know he’s only visiting as he is a foreigner. You let out a small sigh. “Lucky you didn’t grow up in LA. Extremely tiring, I can tell you that much.”
“Tiring how?” He glances at you for a split second before looking at the nearest canvas. You hum.
“You eventually grow tired of being someone you’re not.”
The stranger seems to feel bad enough based on his facial expression, but he understood what you were saying. A single ring expands into the air as you bite down on your lip.
“Shit, my boss.” Completely enthralled into your conversation time had completely slipped your mind. “I have to get going, but it was nice to meet you…”
“Charles,” he reminds you as you share an embarrassed nod. Something inside of him tells him to ask for your number, though it really wouldn’t be wise enough to do, he’s not even from here or a regular visitor. It wouldn’t make sense.
“...264,” you finish telling him as he quickly types in your phone number.
“Great. I’ll see you later for dinner.”
-
“Since when do you visit LA?” Pierre’s voice is filled with betrayal. Charles rolls his eyes at his friend. “Mate, you know I’ve always wanted to go there for Nobu!”
“Yeah, well no need to worry I’ll leave LA all to you now.” The definite confirmation in Charles’ voice has everyone wondering how bad things could have gotten between their friend and the unnamed girl he had once been hung up on, though he would never admit it.
“How did the dinner go?” Alex curiously questions, trying to dig in deeper. He knew he wanted to get the best version since Lily had practically begged him to fill her in on the drive back home.
“It was the best date I’ve ever had.”
-
“Your reservation doesn’t exist.” The waiter was starting to grow annoyed at the 25 year old who insisted he had called on the phone. I can look for my own name on the list, Charles offers though the man quickly raises his hand. “I’m sorry, but the restaurant has grown full. You can try again tomorrow.”
Sitting down on the sidewalk he tries to think of ways to break the news to you. All of them had him cringing. A yellow cab pulls up in front of him and you step out smelling like a garden in Italy.
“Charles!” you exclaim as you run clumsily with heels undone. Finishing up your shift you had quickly dashed home to try to get here one time. Being a few minutes late isn’t all that bad.
“Hey…” He rises up as you’re sitting down. Sheepishly he sits back down once again. “So you might hate me…”
“Why’s that?” you hum as your clip on your heels. Once you are done you stare up at him. Your eyes have him tongue tied as he tries to remember the last time he’s felt like this. Seeing you dressed so pretty makes him upset and he knows he can’t mess this up with admitting his mistake.
“Someone got our table.” Frowning you peek over at the hostess who is taking in more names and clients. “Yeah they just swooped in and stole it.”
“No way!” Feistiness paints your eyes as you stand up, hands on your waist. He realizes he doesn’t completely hate this look on you. Clearing his throat he stands as he pats his hands against his pants.
“Don’t worry though I’m sure we can find some place else.”
“That’s not fair though,” you point out as you start to make your way over. His eyes grow wide as he runs alongside you.
“It’s okay! I swear I’ll find you an even better restaurant where you can dine and display your pretty dress!” You look beautiful by the way, he adds and you quickly turn to him with a smile and blush painting your cheeks.
“I’m sure you could but still, we should say something.” He doesn’t have a chance to stop you as you reach the hostess.
“Hi,” you chirp as you grin kindly. The older man turned his attention with a bored expression.
“How can I help you?”
“Well, um, my date,” you turn and point at Charles who stands there with a blank stare. “He made a reservation for two and it seems you gave our table away.” The man, John, shakes his head.
“You must be mistaken - or have been lied to - but your table wasn’t given away because your date here never made a reservation, as I already informed him.” You both turn your attention to the Monegasque as he begins his act.
“Uhhh…”
Shaking your head you face John once again. “If he told me he made a reservation then he made a reservation.” Raising an eyebrow you stare back at him expectantly.
“As I already told you, no he didn’t.”
Growing more nervous Charles tries to convince you to let it go. I just looked it up and there’s a better restaurant just 2 hours away! “No,” you finalize as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “We are getting our table back.”
“Then I guess you’re just going to have to keep waiting because we are most definitely not going to serve you today.” You roll your eyes.
“Thank you, John.” Making your way over you sit on a bench for waiting guests, Charles follows. “Which table did you reserve?”
“29.” Narrowing your eyes over at John you nod. “Alright. So here’s what we’re gonna do…”
“Are you sure about this?” He lifts you up toward an open window as you grab on, trying to stay secure.
“Just…yes. Just don’t drop me!” His hands placed on your body have him hard and he tries to play it off. This would not make him look good on a first date.
“Okay let me go now!” You screech as you climb over. He watches as you carefully place your Dior covered feet onto the ground. Clapping you shoot a thumbs up on your side of the glass. “Now it’s your turn.”
Rolling up his sleeves he slips into a small pep talk. You got this. You got this. Climbing up towards the window quite evenly has you standing there impressed. Pretty good, you congratulate as he looks down at your figure.
“Than-” Slipping he crashes onto the polished floors.
“Yikes.”
Rubbing his arm he follows you around the dimly lit restaurant. Lots of twists and turns. “I’m starting to get dizzy, how do you know this place so well?”
“I’ve made a few reservations for my boss and her colleagues to have private meetings, now hush and try not to catch anyone's attention!”
“Fuck! You’re Charles Leclerc!” A group of guys stand up in a hurry as you both stop dead in your tracks. You’re confused as to how they know your date's name but as soon as you catch a glimpse of their table’s number, your curiosity flows away.
“Oh so you guys stole our table!” You march over to them as they stare back confused. Charles immediately follows you.
“What are you talking about? We didn’t steal anything.” Tilting your head a bit you stare at them accusingly.
“Yes. Table 29. He reserved it.” You point over at Charles who is busy signing a few autographs in order for them to shut up and not get your attention. Dazed, you pull your eyes away from him as he stands there like a deer in headlights.
The guy ignores you as he pushes past you. Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest as you begin to glare. He begs for Charles to sign his shoe. Standing your ground you walk over to the now open seat. As the group starts to thank Charles for taking pictures and signing their belongings, which still doesn’t make much sense, they return to their table.
“Move.” The guy crosses his arms and begins to tap his fancy glossed shoes.
“No. This is our table.”
He turns to his friends who urge him. Others say, Leave it. She’s hot. Though as much as you're holding on to this stupid table, he is too. “Get up or I’ll have to call security.” Charles starts to stroll over to where you’re sitting to intervene with the situation but you let out a mocking laugh.
“You think a silly little trust fund baby like you scares me?” Licking your red lips you lean your arms over the dinner table. “Cause you don’t.”
His face starts to boil red as he tries to keep his cool. “Listen, this is our table. So get your filthy ass up and leave,” he spits out. Her ass is pretty nice, his friends confirm as Charles tries to restrain himself from going in for a sucker punch.
“It’s okay, jolie fille, I’ll buy you an even better dinner.” You push his hands away as your glare remains on the man in front of you.
“Quit acting like you’re the shit because you’re not. Has anyone taught you manners? Has anyone tamed the doggy?” You pout, poking his ego as he reaches out to drag you by the arm.
“Mate, there’s no need for that-” Charles begins before he catches a glimpse of a flying arm.
“Don’t touch me!” You yell out as you spare a solid uppercut, and as it was unexpected, he flew back where his friends all tackled to not let him fall.
A few guests gasp and others murmur. Charles sends a small dimpled smile before grabbing you, making sure you weren’t going in for more. “Crap. That shit hurt,” you moan as you massage your knuckles. Fondly, and a bit amazed, he smiles.
“I think we should leave,” he advises as you nod.
“Yeah. Go ahead and listen to your owner…doggy.” Turning around, Charles barely has a chance to grab you before you go in for another hit.
“You bitch!”
He stands up, not before his friends hold him back. You kick as Charles lifts you by your waist, carrying you away.
“Let go! I’m going to mess up his botox face!” You dig your nails, not intentionally, into his skin as he hisses.
As you continue screeching in his arms a now concerned and confused John stares, jaw on the floor.
“Don’t worry, Johnny, we’re leaving.”
-
“Holy shit!” Pierre stares, eyes wide. “That’s so cool! Why didn’t Kika and I do that on our first date?” Everyone agrees. Charles hums at the memory he had not reminisced on for quite a while.
“So you had a fun date and then what? You just let her go?” Lando shakes his head in disapproval, claiming he wouldn’t have messed up in that way.
“No, we still continued seeing each other.” He smiles. “You don’t get it. I was completely captivated by her.”
-
Apologizing over the last date you both had was pretty easy.
“Don’t worry. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” You laugh at his response as you take a sip of your lemonade. Glossy lips wrap around the straw before biting down. He had to stop staring.
“How did they know your name?” Fiddling with your cup you squint at him underneath your sunglasses. He stiffens.
“You see, I’m…I… I drive.”
You scrunch your nose like a bunny as you let out a muffled laugh. He shakes his head as he tries again.
“A Formula 1 car. I drive in Formula 1.” Nodding you twiddle with the straw.
“What’s that?”
Shocked, he finds himself asking, seriously? You shrug. “Care to explain, Mr. Leclerc.”
He spends the next 2 hours walking you through it all, taking his time. He learns that you had no idea of his status and career in F1 since it appeared that it isn’t as popular in California as it is in Europe, though it’s getting there.
“Nice. So I’m dealing with a celebrity,” you whisper jokingly as you raise your purse to cover you both. “Don’t wanna get paparazzied.”
“I’m not a celebrity,” he laughs as you giggle, bringing your purse down.
“Of course not,” you agree. “You’re Charles.”
For some reason, that makes him feel more seen than he has in years.
-
“Seriously, how long was this trip and why wasn’t I invited?”
“He just didn’t want you bugging him like you are now,” Max croaks as Pierre flips him off.
“I was only there to buy this one portrait, but as soon as I met her, it’s almost as if that was a reason to stay. I wanted to stay.” Charles stands up to serve himself another cup of hot chocolate, he adds almost half of the bag of marshmallows.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” George cries out.
“Look! He’s getting chocolate drunk, this is a real problem,” Lando pokes fun as Carlos laughs next to him.
“I want to know more about this mysterious girl. What was she like?”
The green eyed boy thinks about it. Then he thinks about it some more. “I don’t know…What I do know is that I’ve never met someone like her.”
-
“It’s a staple here in LA. You have to go.”
It’s 5pm and you both sit in your old Chevy your grandpa had passed down to you. Here you were, trying to convince Charles to go to the Griffith Observatory.
“I’m not sure…What if someone noticed me?” You tap his nose before you dig into your bag. You pull out two bucket hats.
“I survived LA?” he reads as you nod.
“Bucket hats like these are also a staple, now put it on.” You hand him a pair of Ray Bans as you begin to drive to your destination.
“I feel like Jessica Olsen,” you squeal as you skip a bit, Keds and tube socks scratching along the pavement.
“Jessica who?”
“I forgot you’re all oh la laaa,” you tease as he laughs. You bump your hip against his waist. “It’s a movie. Starstruck. It’s about a girl who ends up meeting this international superstar and they go on all these crazy adventures.” You purposely leave out the fact where they fall in love. “He betrays her by saying he doesn’t know of her on national television!”
Your wounded reaction has him playing along. He gasps. “No wayyy!” Rolling your eyes you pinch his bicep.
“Don’t be a Christopher Wilde and betray me, got it?”
“Christopher Wi-”
“He was the superstar, Charles,” you sigh. “You ought to watch the movie.”
“This is so cool.” He finds himself walking ahead of you as he grows more and more excited with the cosmos.
Behind him you say, “It is, but it sucks you can see more city lights than actual stars.”
He finds you pouting and he wishes for nothing more than to kiss you.
“City lights are cool too.”
-
“You went to the Observatory as well!” Pierre groans into a pillow.
“Get over it already,” Yuki grunts.
Charles had forgotten how much he enjoyed his time with you. Back in Los Angeles you had said people there pretended to be something they’re not. In Europe, he felt the same. Coincidentally, when you were together, you both were the truest versions of yourselves. Something you both wished you were able to keep.
“Damn. This is pretty cute,” Lewis admits. “How long did you stay there?”
“1 month.” Everyone gasps.
“Oh you were into her into her,” Alex whistles. Growing a bit embarrassed Charles finds himself looking for any excuse to stop talking about you.
“Tell us more! Tell us more!” Daniel chants as he drums his hands against the wall. He shifts a bit before leaning his head up against the warm couch.
“I met her family.”
-
“God, what did I do to deserve this?” your dad yells as he stares up at the open sky, backyard lit with fairy lights.
“Calm down before you scare him away!” You had invited Charles over for homemade burgers, but you moved out a long time ago, you had no idea your dad was a recent Formula 1 fan. Specifically, Ferrari.
“Of course. I can act cool.”
Breathing hard, Charles finds you carrying your sister's baby. “Hey.” His voice cracks and you laugh.
“Cute. What’s up?”
Fixing his collared shirt he pushes his hair back a bit. “You’re dad is amazing. I mean it, but I need a little break.” Looking over, you find your dad already staring, foolishly sending two thumbs up.
“Ha! I get it. You can stick with me and Macy.” You coo at your niece as she drools down onto her bib. Instantly, you wipe her face. “Macy!” you screech as you softly pinch her chubby cheek.
Charles finds himself staring, admiring, and he never wants an excuse to look away. He’s never been the kind to envision his future with someone, but in that moment, he could. He saw you both living somewhere small, and cozy, somewhere where he could stupidly - and greedily - just enjoy you for himself. He could see you both having a few kids to fill in family portraits. Sundays at the Observatory.
“She’s cute.” Smiling you nod as you press a few kisses on the baby's cheeks and damn it, he won’t admit it, but he was just the tiniest bit jealous. Lucky, he thinks.
“Do you want to carry her?”
Too afraid he steps back, creating distance. “I would just drop her.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t,” you say as you hand Macy over to him. “Just make sure to support her head, please.” He does as instructed, but as soon as Macy lets out a little kick he almost finds himself purposefully letting go.
“She doesn’t like me, it’s fine!” Maybe he was a little afraid.
“She was only getting comfortable. Weren’t you Macy?” Your baby voice has him feeling more for you than humanly possible. Finally settling down, Charles and Macy grow into a comfortable position. Slowly, she begins to fall asleep.
“Thank you God!” you sister whisper-shouts as she lays a warm pat on Charles’ shoulder. “She doesn’t fall asleep with anyone, she must like you.”
“Really?” This makes him happier than he’d like to admit. Maybe he could do the whole dad-thing one day. His eyes travel towards you.
Frowning you whisper to the baby, “I see how it is.”
As the night grows darker, you both, along with Macy, sit next to the bonfire. “Seriously, a fire during summer?” you groan as you lay against Charles' shoulder. He could do this.
“It’s quite nice.” You let out a small snort as you fiddle with the baby blankie. “Thank you for inviting me.” The shyness in his voice is enough to make your heart swell.
“Of course.”
You take Macy to change her diaper and you disappear when your sister walks up to him. Pulling out a chair for her she thanks him. “You must really like her.” Despite his better judgment, he doesn’t answer. “But it also seems she likes you. You both are very cute. How long have you been together?”
“Uh, I’ve only known her for a week.”
Her eyes grow wide as she lets out a grin.
“Oh she really likes you.”
-
“Meeting the parents after a week and getting approval? 10/10,” George says as he claps.
“This isn’t daycare, Georgie,” Lewis teases. His teammate immediately stops clapping. More questions are thrown his way but one makes his heart stop for a split second.
“Did you fall in love?”
And he doesn’t have to think about it, because he knows he did.
-
“Sucks that you won’t be here forever,” you whisper. Amidst of summer, you both decided to go to your nearest farmers market. Picking out some plums he pauses and hands you one. Wiping it a bit, you bite down and let out a soft moan.
“Very good, Charles,” you commend as he smiles softly.
“Thank you, maman,” he highlights. “My mom showed us how to pick good fruit.”
“Do you miss her? Home?” Helping now to fill the small paper bag he thinks about it.
“Oddly enough, no. I mean I do miss my mom, but not home. Not half as what I thought I would.” Handing the lady money, you thank her.
“How’s that?” As much as you sometimes grew tired of Los Angeles you knew deep inside that you would grow homesick.
“You’ve made it pretty easy not to miss.”
Kicking a nearby rock you focus on the old man singing. “Very sweet for you to inflate my ego,” tossing the plum seed into the trash can you turn back around to face him. “I know you’re lying.”
He shrugs. “I mean it, but if you choose to ignore the truth…” Winking, he grabs the paper bag from you. “Hey, do you mind taking care of this?” The group of little boys sitting criss cross look up from their game.
“Sure?”
Grabbing your hand he takes you to the middle, where mostly elderly couples are dancing. “Spare me a dance?” Giggling you nod as you fit the small of your hand into his warm palm. Electricity shoots through you and if it weren’t for Charles flinching as well you would have sworn it was all a part of your imagination.
With his hands on your hips and your own lazily spilling over his shoulders you both sway. It's a rare focus of pure devotion, one that you’ve never felt. One he hasn’t either.
“Not too shabby.” Throwing a playful scowl he spins you before dipping you, hair flying as you let out a yelp.
“You’re going to crack her neck!” The small lady scolds as she looks over to where you giggle. “You’re lucky she’s alive. I’ve been dropped by that move,” she snaps as her husband holds her back.
“It was one time!”
Nodding, Charles brings you back towards him, delicately running his thumb against your cheek. “Didn’t snap your neck, did I?” The way he smiles is enough for you to lean into his touch.
“Nope.”
“So darling!” The old lady squeals as she places her hand over her heart.
After a few songs you both make your way to where the little boys were sitting. “Charles, they stole our plums!” you screech when you find out the group is long gone.
“Fuck. I paid them too.”
That night he invited you over to his hotel. “You can’t drive. Summer rain,” he insists as he points out the window of his room. Loud drops hit the glass.
“I would have been fine but alright,” you shrug as you jump onto his bed. “So what do you want to do? Pillow fight? Prank calls? Ouija board?”
“You’re sick.” He cracks a smile when you shrug.
“Well I’m not tired so you better think of something!”
Boy did he think. He imagined. He grew lustful, but no.
“I know how to shag.” The blush that creeps onto your cheeks makes him choke. “Shag as in the dance! The dance. My mom taught my brothers and I. I could teach you…” You nod.
Spending time in a tight hotel room with a low tune and feet stepping over one another has to be the highlight of his life.
“I thought you knew!”
“I do! I swear!”
You groan as you drop against the bed. “Time out,” you say as you cross your arms as an X, to display your break.
“Fine.” Since you both had not eaten much he decided to order room service. As you wait you both lay down watching old races of his. “Why this?”
“I want to learn more,” you explain as you hush him. The camera pans to a slightly older guy, extremely tan and extremely handsome. As soon as you catch a glimpse that he wears the same race suit as Charles you pause the screen. “That beautiful man is your teammate? The one you were talking about?” The tone of your voice has him groaning.
“Yes?”
“Wow,” you murmur as you softly touch the screen, eyes shining. Slapping the computer shut you turn to him with a sour face. “Why!”
“It’s weird,” he tries to reason.
“So if I reacted like that to you it would be ‘weird’ too?” His voice hitches at your interpretation. Growing shy you look away.
“I guess I would be flattered to be noticed by someone like you.” In a single moment he leans in and kisses you and it's almost as if any other kiss he’s had would never compare. You feel it too, the way he lets you meet his lips as if he’s been waiting for this, as if he’s been craving you.
A soft whine is released as he towers over you, purposefully making you lean against his soft bed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, your skirt hikes up allowing him to grip your thighs. He groans when you begin to rub yourself against him. He can feel just how wet you are and it takes all of him to not flip you to take you from behind.
The door chimes. “Food delivery!”
-
“You knew when you first danced with her? I knew I loved Kika when she picked up my socks.”
“It sounds like you really loved her,” Lando says. Love, Charles wants to correct, because only an idiot would ever stop, but he bites his tongue.
“What I don’t understand is why we never knew of her before this. Why didn’t you make it work?” Carlos says as everyone nods, sharing the same question.
“It was never going to,” Charles confesses. He wishes it would, he really wishes it still could, but it won’t. “That’s just the way it had to be I suppose.”
-
“Fuck, fuck,” you moan out as Charles wraps his hand into your messy hair.
“You can take it,” he reassures you. I can, you cry out, mainly to convince yourself, but he’s just too big. Leaning back he spanks your ass before rubbing it.
“Did I hurt you?” he teases as you shake your head against the sheets. “Answer me.”
“No!” With all your power you rise up to your elbows before turning around to look at him with teary eyes. The picture you see is too much; snapping his hips against you he slips in and out in the most sinister way. Sweat covering his face but to you he was glowing. You squeal when he reaches over to push two fingers into your mouth. You gag around his long digits.
This makes you clench around him and he almost stops his pace to catch a break but the way you're moaning, whining, gives him all the strength to continue. You cough as you try to spit his fingers out.
“You weren’t choking on my cock earlier, how is it that you are around my fingers?” His voice is nothing but the opposite of sympathetic and you love it. You shut your eyes as you force yourself to start to suck on them. “That’s it, baby,” he swoons as you take him just the way he knew you could.
Retracting his finger you find yourself missing them. He makes up for it when he pinches your nipples in a certain way that has you pushing your hips back towards him.
“So fucking beautiful.” He mostly says this to himself, but it has you squirming underneath his touch. “You drive me so so fucking crazy, y’know? ‘Twas supposed to be here only for a couple of days, but fuck, it’s almost going to be a month.” You let out a pornographic moan when he slaps your ass before going in much deeper. You find yourself drooling by how good this all was. “You’re so fucking addicting.”
Harder, you wail as you reach up behind you for his hand. He lets out a deep laugh as he hands you a polaroid he took of you a couple of days ago. One where he’s fingering you in front of his hotel mirror.
In it you’re mid-moan, head thrown against his shoulder. It’s almost embarrassing the way you could see your juices shimmer in the picture. You snatch the photo before throwing it across the room.
He tsks his tongue as he flips you onto your back, swiftly pulling your legs up to his shoulders, the angle almost causing you to be completely smushed up against your thighs. “You didn’t like the picture, darling?
“I do,” you pant, trying to catch your breath as you are now face to face with him. “It’s just too much all at the same time.” You bite down on your lip when his mouth forms an O, brows drawn together as he tries his best to appear intact, but the clear sight of having you underneath him is enough to cancel his acting debut.
Reaching out, he grabs your polaroid camera. “Guess I’ll just have to take another.” He smirks when you gasp when he holds onto your legs with the other arm, glistening muscles shining. You flinch at the cold jewelry that covers his beautiful fingers before settling back into a string of whimpers and pleas.
His grip is the perfect amount and you swear you are filled with pure adrenaline that you’ve never felt with anyone. In the most professional manner he spits right into your pussy, only adding more friction than there already was. The warmth has you squeezing your legs around his shoulders, feeling his collar bones underneath. Your core grows tight.
“Shit, don’t do that,” he moans, eyes shut for the briefest moment.
“I can’t, I’m gonna…” You’re cut off when a sudden flash goes through. Wickedly, you find out he took a picture of your tits covered with his cum from earlier activities.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get prettier,” he murmurs as he gazes at the photo, his rhythm only growing faster, harder. He throws the photo - vowing to look for it later - before wrapping his hands around your calves. “You’re going to what?”
Cruel, you think, he’s being cruel. But you don’t give a single fuck, not even when he smirks.
“I’m going to cum-”
“Go on then baby.”
Letting out the loudest cry you throw your head back as you gush around him, him following, and in the most unexpected manner he rubs your clit. This only adds to your pleasure as you are controlled with an unfamiliar feeling. You squirt all around him.
“Fuckkk,” he groans as he snaps a picture of you midst squirting and moaning. Quickly, he places the photo on the nightstand before slowly pulling away, mixed cum oozing out. He brings his fingers to gather some before licking it.
“No more,” you weakly plead. He nods as he brings your legs down, leaning up to kiss your cheek before he kisses your lips. You sigh against him.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says when you kiss his nose. He feels your soft breath fanning him, he inhales your perfume, one that he could never forget.
“Ditto.”
-
“Would you have given up racing just to stay there with her?” Pierre questions when he notices just how serious his friend was about you. He tries to recall the last time he saw him like this but there was nothing that ever compared. It almost scared him, but he was mostly sad. Sad that his friend was yearning for something that was never going to happen.
“Yes.”
“What stopped you?” Lewis asks as he leans against his knees. The room has grown more serious, suddenly filled with gloominess.
“It came to the point where she didn’t want me anymore.” His friends all frown at his response, growing more curious as to what happened, where did you mess up? “I get it though.”
A glimpse of the art piece he first saw when he met you is hung on the wall, a reminder of what once was. That single piece of art was the only reason he even visited LA, if not, there wouldn’t be anything to tell. In a certain way, he’s thankful for the way things flowed because at least he had the pleasure of getting to know someone like you.
“Are you telling them the story of your month trip for my favorite painting?” Charlotte jokes as she enters the room with Lily. “You guys, he waited so long just to buy it for me, it was the most romantic thing ever.” She swoons as Lily smiles, unknowing of the truth behind the painting.
The guys instantly spring their attention back to Charles where he sits silently. He stands up, walking over and places a kiss on her forehead.
“I would do it all over again.”
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc smut#f1
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p1 x reckless dumb teen boy reader (both in high school or college)
(Highschool bc I’ve never been to collage and don’t know that life.)
Highschool!P1 Dude x Highschool!Reader
Dude wasn’t as bad in Highschool I think. He was a good kid, didn’t have good grades, but he never really acted out. Very quiet, kept to himself. Even the weird, quiet, and anime kids didn’t wanna talk to him :((
Had really strange style of clothes. Probably wore a sweater vest with regular t shirt under and shorts with long socks or something. Bullied because of this, but he just never learned how to dress himself until adulthood.
Most likely had a rough home life so every time he’d go to school he’d have randomly placed bruises and scratches, didn’t help that everyone always made school shooter jokes about him. Really destroyed the little self esteem he had.
NEVER did his homework, only class work that he was able to do in class. Once he got home it was hell, so any work he had with him would either get ripped apart by his dad while he mocked Dude or forgotten in the rare moment’s where Dude could get some peace.
Tried to get along with the teachers, but the only one who could match his freak was the art teacher. He loved going there and escaping the loud cafeteria during lunch, and that’s where he met you!!
Dude was genuinely shocked when you turned around to talk to him, asking his name and what classes he’s in. No one has ever cared enough to ask him those questions, let alone talk to him, so he was flabbergasted when you asked him to hang out with you after school.
Immediately took up on the offer since he didn’t wanna go home anyway. Y’all both went to the gas station across the street for some snacks and then went to your house.
Your house seemed so much more quiet and cleaner than his. The walls weren’t as cracked, the floor was mostly swept, and there wasn’t any screaming or fighting. It felt like a safe haven to him. He was honestly jealous.
Even from the first time you hung out with him, you could tell he was troubled. Couldn’t tell what it was, but it was obvious that the lights were on but no one was home. He has really strange ideas and beliefs, and forgot how to talk a lot, always skipping over words and stuttering. Didn’t help that he talked a million miles a minute.
Hanging out with you was the first time he was able to do his homework. And he was god awful at it. You had to help him with every question,,, with every subject… You were basically teaching him the materiel he should’ve learned in class, but you figured he needed it so you continued.
You could see his mind slip further away as senior year approached. He wasn’t rude or anything, still the same quiet and nice boy, but he became more frantic and his beliefs became wilder. He tried to shut you out multiple times, desperately trying to self isolate from the beliefs that everyone is out to get him slowly creeping in, but you didn’t let that happen.
Despite his attempts to ignore you in the halls and pretend he didn’t hear you scream his name from across the entire fuckin school, you eventually corner him during passing period. In the span of those 5 minutes, you gave him a stern talking to and planned another hangout after school, or else you’ll hunt him for sport.
(I’ve written so much srry but I’ll get into dynamics now,,,)
Postal Dude is honestly like the Angel on your shoulder trying to make you be careful. You are the main source of his stress and probably make his anxiety worse.
You’re both probably financially conscious, but you spend more on ‘stupid’ things, which stresses Dude out. You tend to buy things that make you happy, like small plushies or trinkets, while Dude prefers to spend money on things he can use like food and lighters.
You are the only reason Dude still goes out the house anymore. Your gonna have to drag him kicking and screaming, but y’all are going to the mall (when it was still a thing) to together and y’all are gonna have a good time!!!
Dude is only BARELY learning how to dress and finding his style, so you have to help him a lot. Despite not knowing how to layer clothes, he’s very picky about what you try to put him in. He doesn’t want to wear a regular black graphic T-shirt with some dark green pants!! He wants to wear his favorite sweater vest over a button down shirt with his brightest blue jeans!! He honestly dresses like a dork nerd, but don’t tell him that, he’s not ready yet.
Dude’s actually really good at getting you out of trouble. He’s recognized human behavior patterns so he can read people a little better than the average person. Once he’s assessed the situation, he can persuade the person you got mad to let you off easy. It’s almost scary how easy he can unintentionally manipulate.
Despite the scared or worried look on his face he always has on, you can tell he’s enjoying himself on the inside. He isn’t pulling away or trying to get y’all to leave early, so that’s always a good sign.
It does break your heart to see your best friend slowly spiral downward, watching as his delusions grow and his nerves becoming fried. Before you know it he’s quickly checking out the window every 5 minutes, stocking up on canned food, buying more guns and ammo, and isolating himself more.
As you both grow into adulthood, you’re the only one allowed in the house. The littlest beacon of light he knows and clings onto.
#fr34kfics#postal#postal dude#postal game#postal headcanons#p1 dude#postal dude x male reader#postal dude x reader#postal 1#postal 1 dude#postal 1997
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I have so many questions about every dynamic you can think of for this au im so interested in hearing more about the tenma siblings (toya included) and nene + emu's relationship with tsukasa
im also interested to hear how the dynamic between ena and mafuyu, emu and mafuyu, + rui and mizuki changes.
There is not enough space in these charts for any real information aughh, sorry for the weird text sizing. Also I didn’t put that much effort into editing Kasa/Mafu in these images haha
But relationship charts between the group! Sorry it doesn’t answer every question, but hopefully it’s enough? Feel free to ask more if anything needs clarification!
Here’s a transcript:
Tsukasa- Emu: Always tries to make me smile, but should she really waste her energy on me?…Sometimes she reminds me of Saki when she was younger
Tsukasa-Nene: Stronger than she seems. The least chaotic of the others, when we’re together she doesn’t expect anything. It’s…nice, although it might not be good.
Tsukasa-Rui: Always has something new to try, but I think it’s more for his own curiosity than for my self discovery. He knows a lot, could be more helpful if he ever shared it.
Emu-Tsukasa: Someone important to me that I’ll help find the smile of, no matter what! You’re no oohm doom villain Tsukasa-kun!
Emu-Nene: The most wonderhoy singer! Thank you for helping me see what it means to be a leader, I promise to never lose sight of my troupe again.
Emu-Rui: He always has the best, most fun ideas! I really appreciate his support, we always do best with his directing!
Nene-Tsukasa: He can seem pretty intimidating, but he’s actually rather clueless. I hope he can figure himself out, just not at the expense of others.
Nene-Emu: You’ve grown into a person deserving of the title of leader and I’m grateful you brought us together. I know you’re determined about your goal, but don’t forget we’re here too.
Nene-Rui: I’ll get stronger, I won’t turn a blind eye to you ever again.
Rui-Tsukasa: He tests anything I ask of him without complaint, I wish I could say that was a good thing. Let’s keep using each other until we’ve found what we’re really looking for, okay?
Rui-Nene: I’m glad she’s standing up for herself more, but I hope she knows there’s nothing she needs to make up for. It’s just nice to perform with her again.
Rui-Emu: A truly admirable person, she’s dedicated herself wholeheartedly to other’s smiles. Your smile is something precious as well though, don’t forget that.
—
Mafuyu-Kanade: A musical genius to match my lyrical! Her soft mannerisms belie her unmatched stubbornness, she’ll ever so gently, tell me I’m doing too much, all while she neglects herself! How confounding!
Mafuyu-Ena: She reminds me of those small dogs that get a poor reputation for being aggressive, despite it being people ignoring their fear signals that cause those reactions. That being said, it’s rather entertaining how differently she responds to Kanade versus Mizuki.
Mafuyu-Mizuki: They’ve introduced me to many new styles I’ve never experienced before. It’s amazing how they can make the most intimidating outings seem approachable. I enjoy any and all time spent with them!
Kanade-Mafuyu: She can’t see how she’s hurting herself for the sake of others. I need to help her, someone who can actually save others- shouldn’t have to suffer for it.
Kanade-Ena: Her art is still filled with hurt, but I’m glad she’s found some peace in our group. If only I could do more for her…
Kanade-Mizuki: They always have the frankest opinions of everyone else and seem to speak their mind freely, yet rarely say anything about themself. Their perspective is always appreciated though.
Ena-Mafuyu: Aren’t the big headed types supposed to not actually be good at everything? How is that fair at all, and she’s even got the nerve to be a nice person! I’ll show her-
Ena-Kanade: She’s wonderful. The soft, patient voice-of-reason needed to reign in the group, listening to her music is like a miracle cure for bad days.
Ena-Mizuki: They’re an insistent pest, that won’t leave me in peace. I guess I don’t hate the company though and they are good at putting together outfits for photos.
Mizuki-Mafuyu: A willing dress-up doll, she’s pretty enough to be one too! Kinda reminds me of an old friend with how many questions she asks about everything, guess geniuses have that in common.
Mizuki-Kanade: Always makes sure everyone feels comfortable and safe. It’s really nice to have a space I won’t be judged…
Mizuki-Ena: She’s way too funny not to tease, but she’s just as capable as the rest of the group. It’s kinda scary how easy she is to talk to, wouldn’t want to say anything I regret.
#edit#my edit#fanart#au#swap au#project sekai#pj sekai#pjsk#tsukasa tenma#pjsk tsukasa#tsukasa#rui kamishiro#pjsk rui#nene kusanagi#pjsk nene#pjsk emu#emu otori#mafuyu#mafuyu asahina#pjsk mafuyu#pjsk kanade#kanade yoisaki#pjsk ena#ena shinonome#pjsk mizuki#mizuki akiyama#info#relationship chart#ask
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Hiii - wanted to say first thing first I love your art style, it's so dynamic and fun and those color palettes? Stunning ^^
And second thing second, just some food for thought if you ever want to get angsty about Jerry and Dean, coffee by Chappell Roan sounds like it was written about their break up specifically and I can't stop thinking abt it dndnden
*Cue me losing my mind*
Hiii- they say flattery gets you everywhere and turns out with me, it gets you animatics- jkjk but I do appreciate the kind comments ^^
I’ll put up the animatic separately and take the opportunity to leave the preamble here to keep the video post neat bc until someone tells me to shut up and just post art- I’m gonna ramble… So here’s the commentary you didn’t ask for along with my favourite panels:
First off- You turned me into a big time Chappell Roan listener which is great bc I need music recs to fix my listening habits before Spotify wrapped drops. My roundup last year was shameful… Red Wine Supernova is my new dish washing song.
Even tho it’s not the song’s vibe I kept the content as silly as I could for my own sanity. I don’t love getting too deep into the serious/sad side of M+L for a few reasons but I do find it all very interesting. Point being this song was too good to pass up doing something a bit bigger for.
Ngl tho- this did have me pulling out hair at multiple points. I never colour animatics, rarely even tone them- but you mentioned colour palettes and I was determined to deliver so pardon the messy colouring but (that was the tradeoff) I did not have it in me to stay in the lines. I’m choosing to be kind to myself and opt to call it an artistic choice and not midway burnout. And nothing was gonna get me to open after effects/premiere not even the janky ass golf ball OML this only makes sense if u watch the video.
There are parts of this I’m SO happy with and others I hate. I think it’s really obvious which sections I started losing steam on but overall I lowkey like the end product. Nothing I make will ever be good/perfect- this was one hell of a practice in accepting that lmao- but I can still be ok with the work problems and all yknow? I very nearly shelved this completely bc I got so worked up about the maybe 5 panels I dislike out of 106 total. Counting them was eye opening to ask myself: you’re gonna let that small a ratio stop you from sharing this after putting in days and days of effort? The insecurity goes deep and TBH getting asks has been a nice way of working through it since I post the art I make for answers no matter what only bc I KNOW someone out there wants to see it. It might not sound it but it’s actually quite positive.
Also, although I feel I’ve done my fair share of reading, I’m no expert. So if anything is really off point- sorry my bad (I won’t fix it tho bc I cannot physically stand to look at this another second lol)
I tried to stick to real things found in articles/books/photos/interviews etc bc outside of obviously fictional AUs I’m not super into making stuff up about them (and who needs to I mean the legit stuff is already insane enough) Sure I framed the events in specific ways to suit the song and some aspects are fictionalized (mainly bc the referenced written accounts lacked detail to draw 100% faithfully from anyhow) but otherwise I got my sources cited.
ANYWAYS… sorry for hijacking this answer I need to learn to chill out. Irl I’m a pretty reserved talker so you can tell I’m in a comfy place when I let loose and blather on endlessly lmao brevity is not a skill I possess.
You were probably expecting illustrations or smth but I hope what I came up with is still somewhat alright AND please don’t let my complaining fool you, I genuinely loved making this.
One FINAL Relevant Note: the line “nowhere else is safe every place leads back to your place” is gut wrenching. You’re so right about this song perfectly describing the break up. They always came back to each other and there’s something so devastating about that kind of haunting human connection.
OkAY I’m done promise- I thought I’d implode if I didn’t get all that out
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Well alright, someone said yes, so I’ll post the designs
Warning, these are kind of old and not very good art. Or maybe I’m just being self critical, some of it I think still looks neat
Let’s start with the ones that I made look cool and drew both the Stand Human and Human Stand
Unfortunately I could never figure out a Stand design for Okuyasu, so he only has his half done
Why does the lettering actually look kind of cool…like it doesn’t look half assed at all like it normally does. Maybe because I was intentionally trying to make it look cool
I made Joseph a scarf because I remember his scarf being a notable part of his design. Also Hermit Purple was vines, so equal treatment
Giorno looks like that because I recall at the time some people saying how Golden Experience looked like young Haruno but GER looked more like current day Giorno, so I kind of took that idea and made him look like Haruno, though maybe I took things too literal. Also that’s why Oro looks like GER. Also Oro is supposed to have a somewhat unsettling stare, since people say GER looks kind of creepy
Also another thing I want to mention about Polnareff, specifically his name, so that’s not an 80s song, that’s from 2014, it’s the name of a song from a French artist I liked. So realistically it probably wouldn’t be used but I thought it sounded cool. And hey, the song itself samples a Michael Jackson song, so eh?
Anyways, so something I should mention about this style, so at the time I was obsessed with this other artist’s, @droolingdemon style, and I tried desperately to recreate it. I think by this point I just tried to integrate it with my current style, but that’s why the art style looks the way it does. I might make another post about the subject on its own though
Anyways, onto the Chibi style Stand humanizations
I’ll just list some things I remember from their characters
So I did eventually consider turning Purple Haze into a dog, I think specifically a greyhound, but I didn’t know how to draw dogs, so that never happened
Stone Free never takes off those sunglasses and never lets anyone see what she looks like under them. As it turns out, she’s actually blind, and this would be revealed around the snail part in the story (assuming there are still snails), as she’s unaffected, and I believe she’s told to drive a car because of it, but she can’t, and when asked why, she says it’s because she’s blind (and that this was probably a bad time to relay that info)
The three in the last pic are all different characters who end up sharing the same Stand as it gets passed around between them. Whitesnake is part of the prison staff, C-Moon is just an unfortunate young lady who just happens to get stuck with the Stand after something happens to Whitesnake, and Made in Heaven is I think a horse rider who gets the Stand from C-Moon, probably forcibly taking it from her (and she likely dies) as he knows what it is. Also, Whitesnake and Made in Heaven were dating
Oh yeah, also the first Standswap art I did, which was also Chibi style, I just singled it out because of that
Featuring Star Platinum and The World. Not sure I ever found a definitive design for The World, but maybe I did in my sketchbook
Anyways, so then we have some random headshot ones I did
Let’s see, in the first one we have GER looking ominous, Purple Haze, the blushing one is Tusk Act 1, and buns is Ball Breaker. Then for the second one we have Whitesnake, Under World, Killer Queen and Scary Monsters
I believe one thing I did for the Part 7 swap storyline was to have Tusk have a journey of slowly transitioning from a woman as Act 1 to a man as Act 4. I know I’ve drawn Act 4 Tusk but I think it was in my sketchbook, so I cannot show it. Also I believe Ball Breaker was trans too, just male to female, and where Tusk got the idea that you can just be your preferred gender if you want. Also note that at the time, I did not actually really understand how transitioning worked. Though to be honest, I think the main thing was that I didn’t know hormones existed, or that transitioning could be more than just making yourself look like your preferred gender
Anyways, on to Scary Monsters. I believe he rode horseback without a saddle. Also, he started out with one Stand (Dr Ferdinand) but then got another (Diego)
Then with Killer Queen, I believe he was a mute cop. But also secretly a serial killer. Also he might have had a cat like face
And yeah, I think that’s about it, hope you liked it
#I do still like some of these designs#also I still stand by that the Jotaro Standswap one looks great#do I tag all the characters?#eh why not?#but I’ll be tagging the users not the Stands#jojo’s bizzare adventure#jjba#standswap#joseph joestar#giorno giovanna#jotaro kujo#jean pierre polnareff#okuyasu nijimura#diavolo jojo#pannacotta fugo#trish una#leone abbacchio#bruno bucciarati#rohan kishibe#ermes costello#jolyne cujoh#muhammad avdol#enrico pucci#dio brando#johnny joestar#gyro zeppeli#donatello versus#yoshikage kira#diego brando#my art
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That TCU post…that is truly one of, if not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen come out of this fandom. I tried my own hand a while back at writing “the dsmp but taken seriously”; gave it a name and a playlist but didn’t really write much before I went back to my other projects. If you ever have the motivation to do more with that outline I’d be honored to be a co-writer or help out in any way, or if you want you could just use my title as a name for the series: A Ballad of Broken Dreams.
holy crap op this is so sweet. Thank you so much. I’m… wow ok. That. Wow. Thank you. That’s legitimately so kind and I’m so glad you enjoyed it XD. Id also Love to see your playlist and your thoughts behind the songs if you’re down?! That sounds awesome :D
funnily enough, I’ve had a drafted outline for this heccin thing running around in my head since the Butcher Army arc. Right around when SAD-ist dropped her animatic, I simultaneously realized ‘oh wow, I Adore this concept’ and ‘oh wow, I Highly doubt the CCs are gonna manage to do this the way I’d want to see it’ and lo and behold: I was correct. So painfully correct. (There were also People Involved whom I had Really Bad Feelings About from very early on that, sure enough, turned out to be exactly what i thought they were, rip) So the Emduo prequels, Icarus heccin Dying, and the end of Axe of Peace have been around for Ages.
I’d honestly love to do more with this concept, (i am designing movie posters as we speak) but due to Chronic Illness Pog I’m in a rather unstable financial situation? And don’t have a ton of free time for art. Any big projects are gonna take a While, or id need to find a way to use it or something adjacent to fund, y’know, Rent. That being said, I’m definitely writing the emduo prequels, both as movie scripts and as novels, as those are the films focused on, yknow, My Bois. I also think it’d be hilarious to release the novels and then the scripts and watch people Loose Their Minds over the ‘inaccurate adaptation >>:(‘
I’d absolutely love to work with other people in the fandom on this stuff, though I’ve never been the best at directly co-writing (my writing method and style is painfully specific (ie needlessly poetic) and I’m very autistic: I don’t like it when people touch that Specific Thing) but literally anything else? Im open ears. I love collabs.
and finally, I adore your name for the series, (excellent word choice there /srs, it fits perfectly with the symbolism of the whole story) and I think it works really Really well for the actual DSMP, but if I’m entirely honest… I’m not sure it fits the TCU? Like genuinely I’m so grateful for the suggestion, I love when people offer ideas and bounce things around like that. But one of the main things I tried to do with this concept was work out how the story could actually end Well. A deep-seated belief in the good-but-fallen nature of man, the importance of hope, and the inevitability of redemption kinda comes part and parcel with the whole Being-A-Christian Thing (if it doesn’t, you’re missing the Whole Point Of The Bible) and while the actual DSMP may have ended in broken dreams… this doesn’t. That was my first thought when writing that outline: This Is Going To End Well. Not for wish-fulfillment reasons, not because I’m naive or I don’t like bad endings, but because fundamentally, everything sad is a lie, and if the story has ended in tragedy, it hasn’t ended yet.
If I had to pick a series name now, I’m not sure what I’d pick. A part of me balks at referencing anything popularized by Our Local Redacted, but ‘unfinished symphony’ wasn’t his in the first place, it was from Hamilton. “The Finished Symphony” has a cool ring to it? I dunno. If anyone else has ideas please feel free to toss them in here aight, I’m not settling on anything for a While.
Anyways, thanks for Ted talking with me, drink water 💜
#TCU#Sure hope that tag isn’t already used for anything horrible I don’t know about XD#Technoblade Cinematic Universe#Asks#I’ve never really answered an ask before this is new and exciting#Op sorry for co-opting your ask to rant about the goodness of life and the importance of redemption for a sec there#Well I’m not Sorry sorry but you get my meaning XD#technoblade#dsmp#dsmp au#antarctic empire#emduo
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Weekly Update November 15, 2024
I’m in a real bad spot again, everything I’ve been trying keeps going wrong, but i did get some art stuff done.
I tried writing some shorter songs on a whim with some 16 bit soundfonts and i think they came out pretty well. Add 3 more to the ‘songs i finished but can’t release yet’ pile. Also made some midis for two more vocal parts, one for a cover (FF), one for an original (LF), both of which have finished instrumentals. Started tuning FF, am going to try some of the new strategies i tested a few weeks ago. Another vocal original, BATB, that I’ve been on and off working on is probably done? I think? I finished mixing the vocal part, another one for the pile. Also fixed a random glitch that would sometimes happen where an instrument would randomly play a phantom note that didn’t exist in the midi part at the very start of a song, which was causing issue with three songs. Also re-edited Blow Off Steam, since the mixing was fucking awful idk what was wrong with me to think that would be passable. I’ll release it on YouTube once I have motivation to open my computer. I really need to just sit down and draw some cover art but every time i try everything in my life keeps going wrong I’m cursed i swear. It’s fine it’ll get done eventually, i started on one of them this week and so far it looks good. I thumbnailed some more that also look fine. I just need life to cut me a break so i can draw. I just want a break. One break.
I tried working on the comic this week too, got about half of page 12 inked. The comic looks great and is fun to read through and i love how it’s coming out but again every time I try to work on it bad things happen to me that get in the way. I want to give a deadline and say ‘oh, it’ll be done on (x date)’ but I can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe today I’ll go look at tapas and see how things are over there, since I can’t really work on anything. I haven’t really thought about how I’d go about releasing the damn thing once it is finished other than ‘probably not webtoon, I’ve never heard anyone say anything positive about webtoon’.
I made storyboards/thumbnails for another animation project, smaller one for one of the smaller unreleased songs I’m sitting on. I looked into after effects again and it should be able to do some of the effects I thought I was going to need to learn blender for, which is great because I don’t want to mess with blender yet. There’s a certain character who I’ve only really drawn a couple times because I wanted her to have a really unique visual style, so once I have myself together I’d like to try drawing her and rendering her with the new tricks I learned in after effects, but again things need to get better first, and that’s unlikely.
Last bit of hope for progress next week would be the epithet erased TTRPG. I finished off the first tileset I had done and actually sat down to turn it into some maps, and it works really well. Ended up watching through the original anime campaign a bit further too, which inspired me to get some statblocks done and some character minis sketched. Also completely rewrote stage 6 for the second time but I think this time it’ll stick. A couple more NPC ideas have been floating around for that and I might post a mini once I have more. Again I’m hesitant to post anything visual for that, since my plan is currently to turn the campaign into a prewritten module for other people to run, release the module for free so everyone can play, and then release the optional maps and minis as a paid package, so I can make a bit from my work but also make the system more accessible to people for free. The fifth anniversary streams are this weekend, including one that is set to cover the updated system book, hopefully that should give me the motivation to get going, and then if that goes well that should give me motivation for my other projects. Everything I’m doing is intertwined with each other and with my mood, so if nothing else bad happens I should be getting better, but again there’s still a couple things that can go wrong and they certainly will because I’m not allowed to have anything.
Sorry again for how gloomy this post has been, everything seems to be going wrong but I’m going to keep trying. I might be slow again for a while but that’s fine, that’s why I loaded up my queue with old art. Thank you everyone for sticking through it, and I’m glad you guys have been enjoying the old art. I shuffled the queue so some of it isn’t as old as others, but even so a good number of you are seeing pieces for the first time. I really hope I’ll have something big to show soon!
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due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.
#I didn’t know you could max out a ‘text block’ on tumblr also. my indication to stop LOL#long post#vent#kind of. I’m not like super angsty abt it I’m just sad that I have to spend more time remembering#instead of actually accomplishing anything with my dreams. I’m 26 and there’s 18 year olds living my fucking dream yknow#I know you don’t have a certain age requirement for art but I also know you never stop improving#and being set back before I was even proud enough to set prices for my work is kind of devastating#I just love art. I want to be an animator or something involve with creative concepts.#I want to make things I’m proud of. but what used to come easily now feels like chewing nails#the metal ones not the cartilidge. anyway#I know I’m kind of hard on myself but it’s hard not to be when you’re surrounded by people with such talent#and it feels like you’re running behind when you see people getting to their dreams so much sooner than you.#I know it’ll happen but it hurts sometimes remembering what I used to imagine id be doing at this age#and realizing past me probably had more of a chance at these careers than I do right now bc of brain damage and physical and mental issues#it’s not confirmed if I have brain damage but like. I can tell something is different.#it’s not like they’d be able to diagnose it by now or even that it’d change anything#I just have to keep going and keep trying. it’s just discouraging and frustrating#I wish I could summon all the memories from my brain back up so I could feel happier about my art#I’m happy to have the chance to start drawing again don’t get me wrong. I still like to draw. it’s just.#I can tell the difference between how it was and how it is now and it makes me mourn#ough I wish I still had a therapist lmao. Deb get the fuck back here you traitor.
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Too much
I figured pretty early on that people don’t pay attention to me. I was never one of those people that just shine and attract others to them like moths to a flame. I was just… there, until I realised that people don’t even see me. I could be next to someone and they wouldn’t even notice me. I was as invisible as a ghost. I consoled myself saying that it’s a good thing, that I could sneak around without any effort, that I could listen to people’s secrets without them knowing, telling myself anything to make me feel like I was in control of this. Then it hit me, I actually wanted to be seen. I craved the attention and approval of others so much that it hurt.
So I changed myself entirely. I stopped diminishing the light inside of me, hoping that this way, at least, I could find myself surrounded by people. With the personality change also came a style and appearance change. It did make me get more attention, but in all the wrong ways. Older men catcalling and staring intently on the street, people’s disapproval of my new style, people judging me based on my hair colours… but there also came “admiration for my courage to dress that way” from some people. Others simply didn’t care, and lastly, few truly understood me, perhaps other outsiders.
Still, even after all these changes, there were a lot of times when I simply didn’t exist. I was there, occupying space, just wasting oxygen trying to talk and make myself visible in any way, all my efforts in vain without anyone noticing my presence. Other times I would just be excluded when people tried to remember groups I was a part of. People forgetting my name, forgetting my age, forgetting where I’m from JUST when I felt like I was beginning to be a part of something.
One step forward, five steps backwards. I envied the people that were naturally gifted in the art of making friends and being liked. I envied the people that didn’t have to put so much effort into everything, who seemingly had everything handed to them by the Universe easily. Compared to them it seemed like a curse had been put on me. Everything I had ever done has never been rewarded the same way.
As the years passed, that resentment turned into anger and ultimately into a deep sadness and loneliness, one that very few understand.
Is it a crime to want to be liked? appreciated? loved?
I became desperate for human connection. From nothing at all, a mere ghost among people, I had become too much. Emotions out of control, talking faster and louder, trying to befriend everyone, whether good or bad, anything, just anything to make me feel something.
Yeah, it’s not a crime to want to be liked… right?
After every failed attempt my heart getting emptier and emptier. Crying in the middle of the night of the stairwell. Crying in my bed. Crying in my friends presence. Crying to my family. It seemed like the only thing I could do besides breathing.
“Your time will come, don’t worry!”
Words like these hurt a lot, especially when coming from someone who’s never struggled with this. I’ve waited my entire life. Perhaps it’s just not meant to be. So I console myself saying that maybe it’s for the better, that I don’t actually want or need anyone beside me, telling myself anything to make me feel like I was in control of this.
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just a short text, not proofread
some might relate to this
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Two in one Post
For my A-Pal’s on this day post.
Yeah I do remember the second Forza Horizon. I did play the Demo version back in 2015 after I just graduated high school. But then I had to Download Forza Horizon 1 and did Downloaded Horizon 2. It stinks I didn’t buy any of the add-ons for those titles and didn’t even get Horizon 3. But then I had to get a physical copy version of Horizon 4 and 5. But for Horizon 4, I got both of the add-ons since I do love storm and island settings and do love the Lego idea for Forza. But for Horizons 5, I might stick with the Hot Wheels one. Since they did made a Hot Wheels add-on for Horizon 3, I was glad they put it on Horizon 5 as well. But I hope my A-Pal might get Horizon 5 for either his birthday or for Christmas. Since I know my P-Pal and I got copies as well and the three of us can both compete in the Forza league together. Much like if my friend Nate would compete.
For my P-Pal’s Gran Turismo post and final for Sport
Yeah I did talked with him about it when he's almost getting ready for him to try 7. But it stinks we can’t transfer our content. Unlike the other Gran Turismo games. Like i know I remember seeing 1, 2, 3 and 4 do transfers when playing them on PlayStation 1 or PlayStation 2. Because back then when I was really young, I remember owning the 2nd Gran Turismo for PlayStation 1 since that’s the first Gran Turismo game I’ve played. But then my grandmother bought me Gran Turismo 3 when I was just 9 and it wasn’t that bad. I do enjoy the music and graphic since it is really amazing compared to other PlayStation 2 titles. But onto Sport, I have tried the Mid Engine challenge and the Lamborghini cup, but they’re really tricky to get through. Even when I tried using the right vehicle, it depends how well my horse power is as well as for the style of the weight when it comes to turning. And when I was playing 7 since I did finish all the progress, I did snap photos when I was playing 7, but I was thinking of designing some of the vehicles to see how well they turned out. And I even got the Nissan Nismo GTR that is from the movie and I’m looking into seeing that film this Friday. And my mom will love it too.
Shadow R 😺🗡️: Alright Spot and Maxwell. Even with our racing skills, I’m sure we’ll be prepared to compete depending if we’re competing in Gran Turismo or Forza.
Lisa 😺❤️⚡️: mmhmm. And with the Rabbits and the Speedster’s racing skills, I’m sure we’ll do our best.
Tory 😺🩰: Yup. And since for people who would compete in Mario Kart too, we’ll do our best as well.
Debby 😺📱🖥️: I hope you Bonn and Rita can be ready for anything, and maybe if I get my racing suit, we’ll compete just the three of us. The same will go for our kids. 🙂👍
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To the one theorist who bounces theories with me:
Thank you.
Do you know that I haven’t theorized properly in at least years almost 4 at this point? We have a mutual friend - you know who I mean - and they can tell you that a lot of the time I’m still scared. They can tell you my story - I think they already have - but it would be better if it came from me.
There was a time a few years back - the “before times” if you will of the world as we know it now. The ego fires didn’t go out because we were always getting new information, new tastes, new hints. It was early days of the official community server, run by the gladiator himself. The theories channel was always busy but it got to a point where things died down a little. Basically people started pulling at straws to figure things out. I had seen one person mention something, and I tried to voice my own thoughts, agreeing with them. Immediately, I was shut down and told that I was wrong. Didn’t really give a good reason as to why, just shut me down completely.
Not too long after that, in a completely different community in a completely different place, I put out another theory. Once again, I was near immediately shut down, told I was wrong. They at least had some sort of explanation, but for the most part they just shut me down and told me I was wrong.
I was hurt, lost. I felt that if I theorized anything, thought anything, I would be hated, told I was wrong, be berated and yelled at. Just for thinking, for theorizing, for having fun. In my mind, if I couldn’t theorize, then I couldn’t create. If I couldn’t create, that meant I couldn’t do any form of art, which included stories and any sort of drawing.
For months I was hurting, the only person I could turn to being our friend. When I tried to do anything creative or theorist wise, I would always hesitate or stop entirely. It caused me physical pain to even try. There were even times when I would cry because I wanted to return to theorizing, to creating so bad, but I felt that I couldn’t. They listened to me cry and comforted me because I wanted to return to that but was afraid to.
Eventually I found I could draw again. But when I drew, the art felt hollow - at least it did to me. I was excited that I could do art again but it just... never felt right. Even when did “draw this in your own style” stuff, it didn’t feel right.
I don’t even remember what happened, what video caused it, but one day I finally wrote a theory. Specifically, it was the Convergence theory. But I was so scared about what I was talking about and that I would be shut down again that I felt like I had to show my proof, show that I knew what I was talking about. I pointed out specific videos and discussions and Instagram posts. Heck, I even put up the pictures of the discord channel as well as my proof as to the channel’s naming.
Because I was scared.
After I wrote that theory, I was tired. I was so worn down. It was all because I felt like I had to prove myself. Like I had to show the world that I had something solid to back me up. Our friend could tell you that while I was proud of myself, I was exhausted and had one hell of a headache. (To be completely honest, I’m surprised at how well the Convergence theory is still holding up three years later with the I.R.I.S. lore? Like what?)
Ever since, I’ve rarely done theories - maybe having done a couple here and there, but not many. If I theorize, I’ve almost never written them down, I’ve just said them out loud. But I’m able to draw again, and I can write stories again. But I’ve never been able to really feel proud of myself, feel completely happy with anything I’ve done. All because of that fear of failure as an artist, creator, and theorist.
Then you came around. You looked at my theories. You were willing to bounce off of me. Counter me with “... but this... and because of...” rather than just “No and I won’t say why.” You’ve helped me with relearning and accepting my theorist side. The fact that we can bounce theories off of each other has helped me to think about things again. Our friend can tell you this. I still don’t theorize like I used to, but to know that I’ve actually somewhat met people who understand what I’m talking about, who accept me and my theories and thoughts? It helps to ease the process and the want to write them down again.
So I say to you again, thank you.
Your mutual theorist,
“Scarlet”
#from theorist to theorist#letter to a theorist#letter from a theorist#honestly grateful#glad to know you're around#welcomed into part of the theorist community again#quiet but listening#creative theorist#theories help creativity#artistic theorist#theories help art#once was lost but refound my path#theories never felt the same#hurt by the theorist community#healed by the theorist community#this theorist should know who they are#I'd be surprised if they don't
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Review: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
The fifteenth installment in my quest to read the ‘great classics’ of Western literary canon, To the Lighthouse was a rather anticipated step, as it seemed less “high school reading list” and more “high brow literary” than most of what I’ve covered before, at least by impression. I’ve enjoyed this project well enough so far, but I wondered how I’d fare with something like that.
Turns out, both quite well and somewhat badly.
To the Lighthouse takes place on an island in Great Britain where the Ramsey family and assorted guests are staying for the summer. The Ramsey children (particularly the youngest, James) are excited about a proposed boat trip to a lighthouse, but Mr. Ramsey and several of the guests declare that bad weather is on the way and the trip will have to be postponed. From there, we follow the thoughts and minor happenings of the house’s various residents over the next twelve hours or so, jumping back and forth in time and place to paint a portrait of a very normal evening in a slightly dysfunctional family’s life before jumping forward ten years to see how those relationships and personalities have developed.
The first thing that stands out about this story is the unique way in which it is told. The narrative floats freely from character to character, event to event, seeming almost to be writing out every individual thought that comes into the head of whoever we are following at the moment. At first, this was overwhelming, leaving me lost trying to follow what was going on. But after about twenty pages, I realized that this wasn’t a book where it was important to keep track of each individual event or pay close attention to what events were occurring. This was a book to feel, to let the prose flow over you and immerse yourself in the characters’ minds and once I figured it out, it wasn’t difficult to keep up.
That being said, this was also the first book I’ve read in a long time that made me feel like I wasn’t smart enough to understand it. I know there’s more going on beneath the surface than I picked up, asides and moments that I didn’t catch that would have built the characters and themes deeper.
Without them, however, the book was still enjoyable enough. A bit slow, but never truly boring with a lot to say about human relationships and the complexities of perception, musing on questions like “is it ever possible to truly know another person?” and the ways in which our opinions of others change with time and circumstance. Ultimately, most of these questions are left unanswered, but Too the Lighthouse isn’t interested in providing answers, merely examining life as it is. Unlike in many narrative books, this one felt real to me, as though this could have happened to me, perhaps stemming from the stream-of-consciousness style that brings you so close to the minds and hearts of the characters. I experienced the story instead of merely heard about it.
Even still, while I enjoyed the book much more than I would have thought I would from the description, it did feel overly long at points and several individual scenes dragged as well, particularly towards the end, and I would have appreciated a slightly tighter focus on Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey and their relationship, as well as a bit more explanation for a specific shift in one character’s attitudes in the last few scenes. Perhaps it was covered and I simply missed it, but it seems to occur for no real reason – or perhaps that is the point?
A very different reading experience than most things I’ve tried before, To the Lighthouse might not be a “fun” book in the traditional sense, but it was a fascinating glimpse into writing as an art form that was well worth the time invested.
Warnings: While no actual abuse is depicted, the relationships between several of the characters are rather toxic and codependent.
Rating: 7/10 stars
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Hey! Saw your post and saw you said you were upsettie spaghetti so I wanted to cheer you up!
Slashers who stop everything they’re doing because their “My S/O needs me” senses are tingling and go to their rescue to comfort their angry s/o?
I was hoping to come up with A way for you to get your emotions out through your writing- 😅
Hope you feel better! 🖤
I've never done a post in this style before so hopefully I do okay! I think I covered pretty much all the slashers I write for so far (I didn't do Billy Lenz because I still need to read the novelization). I may have gone way overboard, so if I do these in the future, I'll probably just pick a few instead of doing the whole roster 😅 (or you can pick for me). But doing this much work did distract me!
Above the cut:
Bo Sinclair
Vincent Sinclair
Lester Sinclair
Included below the cut:
Michael Myers (OG)
Jason Voorhees
Leslie Vernon
Thomas Hewitt
Bubba Sawyer
Brahms Heelshire
Erik ("The Phantom")
Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)
Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC slasher)
Kathleen Montgomery (OC slasher)
Masterlist
***
Bo Sinclair
Despite being autistic, Bo is very in tune with peoples auras and body language. He has to be to manipulate and deceive people with any modicum of success. He's trained himself when it comes to these things; even besides masking or manipulation, he needed to be keenly aware of when his parents were in Bad Moods so he could either avoid them or prepare himself.
The mood he's probably best at when it comes to this, for those reasons, is anger. He can smell anger a mile away. So if you're fuming, you better believe he notices.
At first he's annoyed and will demand to know what your problem is. He's not a very tolerant person, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. He's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but when it comes to others having big, messy feelings ... he's not so comfortable with that. He gets overwhelmed.
Once he realizes that this is more than an attitude problem, he'll take it much more seriously. And assuming you're not mad at him, he'll want the rundown on the whole situation from beginning to end. He wants all the dirt.
He'll let you rant, and honestly, he'd think you being this angry (when it's not directed at him, but even still sometimes) is kind of sexy. And don't expect him to shut his mouth, either; he'll be ranting right along with you, affirming you and insulting whomever/whatever you're angry about.
He doesn't wanna cuddle. He genuinely thinks you can't cuddle anger away. He'll put on some loud-ass music and let you vent your frustration however you prefer. Maybe suggest a long drive down to the lake or into town or just ... picking a direction and going. He has fantasies of running away from his anger sometimes. He knows how it is.
Depending on what you're angry about, it could definitely get to the point where he's angrier about the situation than you are. And if it really hurt you, he will not let it go as long as he lives. The best he will ever do is maintain a grudging neutrality or distance from the person/situation that made you angry.
He's very protective. If you're angry at someone you need to maintain a relationship with, you're going to have to keep an eye on Bo to make sure he doesn't deliver revenge for you behind your back. If it's something he can solve, he'll do it, so if you don't want him running his mouth, watch him.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent is in the same boat as Bo when it comes to sensing auras, though his handle on body language and facial expressions is not as keenly honed. While Vincent was not physically abused as brutally or as often as Bo, this wasn't because of some sterling quality he had that Bo lacked. He was always The Good One because he saw what his parents did to The Bad One and knew he needed to protect himself. He tried not to do anything that might provoke his parents.
You can feel anger before a fight like you smell ozone before a storm. Vincent is attuned to the feeling not just because of his parents but because of Bo's temper, too. Because of this, like Bo, he can very accurately sense anger in particular.
His initial reaction is to observe you, gauging if you need time to cool off. If you need space, Vincent is the Sinclair for you. He's used to being quiet and deflecting and riding out anger.
However, once he realizes that your anger is not directed at him or isn't explosive enough to become a problem for him, he's concerned. Rather than asking what happened, he will ask if you're okay, and leave it up to you whether you'll tell him about it or not.
If you vent, he'll sit and listen patiently, maybe even thoughtfully working on a sculpture while you rant. He's not judgemental and he can be very emotional himself, so you could say the most ridiculous, dramatic things and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Let out all your messy, destructive thoughts and feelings. Just try not to throw or punch anything; that's when he shuts down.
If you decide you just want comfort, or decide you need comfort after ranting, art is his first suggestion. It may seem cold to you at first, that his instinct isn't to hold you or kiss you but rather to redirect you to a project - once you got to know him, however, you'd know that's his most genuine way to show he cares. Redirecting to something creative calms him down more than platitudes ever could, and he wants that for you. He's nonjudgmental about the art you create as well, even if it's objectively terrible. It's not about the quality.
He won't turn you down if you need physical affection, however. His twin is extremely tactile, so it wouldn't be the first time he held someone after a breakdown. He prefers to do this if he's certain you won't lash out physically, but if you were in a really bad way and needed to be touched, he'd do it regardless.
Lester Sinclair
Lester witnessed his parents' anger, but it was usually indirectly; if Bo was the Bad One and Vincent was the Good One, he was the Overlooked One. He's not a perfect person, probably not even a good person, but of the three brothers, he's the most normally socialized. He isn't trained to be tuned into everyone's every shifting mood in order to survive.
It takes Lester a little longer to pick up on your anger than his brothers, but not too much longer. It takes him a couple tries at trying to talk to you or get your attention before he realizes something is really wrong.
His first reaction is to get upset. He soaks up emotions like a little sponge, so he's suddenly cranky, too. He also jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're angry with him, and he does not take rejection well. He might be bitter and passive aggressive. You being angry just makes him want to go in another room and not be around you, and yet at the same time, he wants your reassurances. It's messy and sad.
Once he realizes - either through observing you or through you communicating with him - that you're mad at another person or situation, then he'll feel comfortable enough to approach you and ask you about it. You'll definitely need to reassure him that you're not mad at him though.
If you wanna rant, he'll take you on a long drive and let you vent your heart out to him. He won't be quite as aggressive as Bo, but he'll be on your side, frowning with disapproval, telling you "Ya can't fix stupid." If you want only comfort or need comfort after venting, he feels much more equipped for that. He'll put something relaxing in the VHS or let you play his old Super Nintendo, get you a beer, just let you chill out. And he'll let you win at Doctor Mario.
If the situation is something really serious, you best believe he'll be talking to his brothers about it the second he gets a chance. He may be a sweet guy, but he can be real nasty, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to you. You might have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't tell someone off or punch out someone's lights.
Michael Myers (OG)
In 1978, Michael is not very in tune with any emotions besides fear, and even then he only really understands it in an abstract way, as his condition and upbringing haven't really been conducive to him learning about emotions. Unless you're screaming in terror, have tears running down your face, or are shouting angrily, he really can't read your moods. Without any obvious change to how you normally act or look, there's a huge chance he might just not notice if you're angry. He spends a lot of time in his own little world.
In 2018, even though he's spent over 50 years institutionalized, Michael has had time to take in the world, and he's seen a lot more. He understands fear much more than he did when he was 21, but what he understands most of all is anger. His anger fuels him. He would pick up on yours right away and be curious, though he wouldn't verbalize it.
If you tell him how you feel, he'll take note of it. If he witnesses you doing something destructive because of your anger, he'll simply observe. He would be fascinated with this thing you're doing, because it's not something you normally do, and though he might not notice emotions, he certainly notices routine and pattern. Either way, you'll have to tell him how you feel, because he'll simply watch you otherwise.
One thing that can be said for Michael is that he's a good listener. He may not internalize everything you say, but he will remember what he thinks is important. You may be surprised; he may remember tiny little details that seem inconsequential to you but loom large in his mind.
Unless you were caused serious physical or mental harm, he would not be angry on your behalf. He would, however, do nothing to assuage your anger. He thinks it would be kinda neat and interesting to see you snap. He's not 100% sure why you don't just do it.
In 1978, he won't be much help beyond listening to you, but he would be curious to see what you do to vent your anger. You may find him by your side more often, observing you. He may also want to find and observe the object of your anger, especially if it's a person. In 2018, he would, in his own way, suggest you solve the problem by murdering someone/something. He's insatiable, but killing is the closest he's ever come to satisfaction. You should try it.
Jason Voorhees
Out of all of the slashers, Jason is the most likely to actually literally sense your anger, especially if you're psychically sensitive/powerful like Tina Shepard. I'm talkin'—assuming you have a pre-established relationship—he'll be doing something else and just get this itch that tells him you're out there somewhere, pissed off.
Obviously this is untenable. As long as he's not super busy or Pamela has other plans, Jason will stomp his way through the woods to get back to you, regardless of the urgency of your anger. If Pamela doesn't approve, well, he'll let a little anger go and assume you're okay. If he suspects you may be in danger, though, he's sprinting regardless of what Mom says. There's time for both things, Ma!
The first thing he'll do when he returns to you is scan your dwelling, then you, making sure nothing is broken. At that point, you'd probably be able to sense his confusion even without him signing. Jason doesn't experience emotions quite like a human anymore, and he's quite tactile besides, so a lack of tangible or visible clues as to why you're upset would trip him up for a second.
He doesn't want to comfort you at first, he wants to know what's wrong. He'll listen to you vent only long enough to understand the situation and identify his target. His immediate next move would be to eliminate the problem. You'll definitely have to hold him back, and it may take a bit of convincing. Earthly consequences don't really apply to him.
Before comfort comes blowing off steam, for you and for him. His first choices would be mangling some trees (you can pretend it's for firewood) or skipping/throwing stones into the lake. You're welcome to join him if those things calm you down; watching him get his stone to skip like 11 times on Crystal Lake may make you feel better, at least.
You might hang out there for hours before he suddenly decides it's time to go home. He'll do what he can to make your comfortable or stay out of your way while you make yourself comfortable, then comfort you as you please. His go-to choice is always foot or hand massages.
Leslie Vernon
Leslie is extremely observant and surprisingly analytical given how silly he is in the day to day. His intuition makes it pretty easy for him to read people, but especially you, since you two are so close. Especially-especially if you're his Survivor Girl (gender neutral term of course). You two are in sync, so he knows if something's up. Maybe even before you fully figure it out.
God, you're so hot when you're angry, you really are. He almost wants to let you scream and holler and go nuts. But he prefers you only get angry like that at him, especially if you're his Survivor Girl, so his first move is to comfort you or talk you down to a place where you can be comforted. He'll speak to you calmly and rationally, reassuring you and touching you if you wanna be touched—on your upper arms or shoulders or face, or with one arm around your back.
He doesn't just want to comfort you, though, he wants to calm you down enough that you can tell him what happened. Even if you claim you don't want to talk about it, he will coax it out of you eventually. He's gotta know what got you so upset. It's his business to know everything about you!
Assuming you're angry at someone/something that isn't him, he'll talk it through with you. If you're upset about an argument with someone, he has the capacity to see it from the other side, but ultimately, he's there for you. He'll let you bitch as much as you want, still touching you, and he'll be disgusted and/or disappointed with the situation.
Above all, though, what he wants is to see you smile again. The only worries on your mind should be the ones he comes up with, and man, he's not even halfway done grooming the next batch of unlucky teenagers. He'd pat your face or touch your hair and tell you to cheer up, and probably defuse the situation with a stupid quip or joke. Take you out somewhere fun, maybe.
Once you were cheered up, he'd humbly suggest you solve your problem with a little murder. "I mean, I know killing's not really your thing—you're really good at it, though, a talent! You know that..." Pause, considering you. "You want me to do it? 'Cause I can clear my schedule for the rest of the night." If you decline, he'd be like "Suit yourself" but may or may not still murder whoever upset you. If you agree, he'd be super excited to make a romantic night of it. His mind would be going a million miles an hour planning everything out.
Thomas Hewitt
Tommy knows anger when he sees it. Not only does he have loads of internalized anger, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty. He's far too large to be scared of anyone in a physical sense anymore, but he's been shouted at countless times. To know when to shut up and do as he's told versus arguing back, he's learned to gauge intensity and direction of anger, and he well knows that anger can be redirected to him.
So, he instantly recognizes your mood, but it might be a while before he approaches you. When he does approach, he'll let you decide what to do, whether that's throwing your arms around him or banging your fists on his chest to vent your anger. You won't hurt him.
Eventually, once you're all hugged or cried or screamed out, he'll wrap his arms around you and give you a reassuring squeeze. There's no need to tell Tommy what's wrong—he won't ask unless you're obviously in serious distress or injured—but if you decide to speak, he'll listen, brows drawn tightly the whole time. He's thoughtful about the situation.
If you're mad at someone in his family, there isn't much he can do for you besides comfort you and assure you that whoever upset you—Hoyt, probably—didn't mean what they said. If you were hurt physically, it would be another story, but his family gets in shouting matches all the time.
Rather than offering help, he'd wait for you to request it of him. Whatever you ask, shy of hurting his family, he will do. Murder someone? No problem. Make you some food? You got it. Bring you a blanket? Sure. Give you some quiet alone time? That's fine, too.
If you need to vent, he's got plenty of ways to get out your frustration. Plenty of farm work to do, or you could work on something around the house with him. He might suggest knitting or sewing or some other handicraft you enjoy. It always makes him feel better to buckle down and use his hands for something.
If you're still preoccupied/upset by the time you two bed down, or heaven forbid the next morning, then he starts taking it more seriously. Something that disturbs you for that long is bad news. He'll watch you carefully the next couple days to see how you're doing, waiting for you to need him for something.
Bubba Sawyer
Like Tommy, Bubba has been on the receiving end of anger many, many times, so he's familiar with what it looks and feels like. Despite his size, he's still susceptible to physical violence at the hands of his loved ones, so he's very wary of anger.
However, he doesn't have a female presence in his life like Luda Mae, who expresses her anger through passive aggression—so, he's more used to shouting and screaming. If you aren't prone to screaming and shouting, it might take a little bit for him to realize you're not just sad or upset, you're angry.
Bubba will be over you. He'd give anyone else their space because he'd be afraid of retaliation, but you're his special person, and he's pretty sure you're not going to hurt him. He'll touch your hair, your arms, your wrists; he'll babble as he tries to figure out what's wrong. He just wants to comfort you and let you know everything is all right.
If it's too much or you're overwhelmed and you snap at him, he'll ease back. He'll blubber like a kicked puppy, but he won't give up. He'll still try to comfort you, just in other ways, such as getting you a comfort item or article of clothing, or maybe some food. And boy will he helicopter.
There's no need to tell Bubba what's wrong. In fact, it might be better if you didn't; if it's something he can't fix, it would do nothing but majorly stress him out. If it was one of his family members who upset you, as with Tommy, he wouldn't be able to do much. Even if you were hurt, he's just not in a position to stand up for you. That fact would absolutely kill him, though. He'd end up getting even more upset than you.
He doesn't know what help to offer you beyond comfort, but like Tommy, if you requested something specific, he'd try to carry out your wishes. He'll also try to cheer you up with some music and dancing, or just being silly like you like.
Need to blow off steam? He's got plenty of coping mechanisms! Bubba's idea of a perfect de-stress session is turning up the radio and getting lost in crafts. He's got lots of supplies, mostly to create clothing and accessories, and you're special, so you can have your pick. A drive and the radio might be nice, too. If neither of those appeal to you, he'll try cooking or baking with you. He loves sharing the kitchen with someone.
If none of that works and you're still upset, be prepared, because he's gonna be an anxious mess until you're better.
Brahms Heelshire
Brahms is somewhat familiar with other people's anger. He certainly has a whole fountain of internalized anger brewing just beneath the surface, but that's different. He knows that when Mummy is angry, she yells and cries, and when Daddy is angry, he seethes and stews. The former would be obvious to him, but the latter would take him a few minutes to be quite sure about. You're not acting how you usually do. Are you being stern or are you angry? Are you cross with him?
He does not have a lot of empathy for other people, so if your anger gets in the way of his routine or the attention he wants, he'll be irked, cranky, sad. Not necessarily at you—though that is possible—but the situation in which you find yourselves.
Much like Bo, he's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but it makes him uncomfortable and scared when other people have those feelings. He might even hide from you for a while, especially if you screamed and cried.
Once he realizes something is really wrong and you're not mad at him, however, he'll start thinking of ways to cheer you up so things can go back to normal. He hates having his routine interrupted; he's very particular. And he cares for you, so seeing you in distress is very scary and uncomfortable for him.
He'll start by fetching you something you like—something manageable for him like your favorite juice or a sandwich, or if you have a special item or article of clothing, that. He's quite shy, though, and like I said, he'll probably be hiding, so he'll leave it somewhere he knows you'll find it (on the bed, outside your door, on your desk, etc.)
If that doesn't calm you down and your anger is really getting in the way of his routine, or otherwise making him uncomfortable, he'll finally make an appearance. Very bashful and timid at first, using his little boy voice. "What's wrong, Y/N? Did something bad happen?"
If it's something that can't be helped, he'll suggest you do something together to take your mind off it (most likely something he likes to do). He may even be coaxed into taking a walk around the grounds, though he doesn't like to leave the manor at all, so you'd have to convince him. He prefers quiet playtime, maybe some coloring books or loud music to vent your emotions. It would intrigue him to see someone else use his toys to calm down. As long as you recognized he was being very nice, sharing them.
If it was an argument you had with someone, he would want more information. Are they likely to leave you alone, or will they come to the manor? Will he have to deal with them? Because it's scary, but he'll do it for you.
If, for some reason, none of those things work, he may cry or throw a fit. Either way, he'll be frustrated. Adult Brahms may make an appearance and try to help you in more Adult ways.
Erik
Though he lives five cellars beneath an opera house now, Erik hasn't always been entirely reclusive. Even these days, when he can stomach it, he sometimes goes out to see the world. As a younger man, he observed people's lives and moods with a hungry fascination (that has now mostly been replaced by melancholy and longing and bitter anger). Like several of the other slashers here, he's had to train himself to sense fury to protect himself. He's also incredibly wrathful, so you could call him an expert!
He has a very keenly honed sense when it comes to you specifically, since he's watched you so much. He notices the change in your demeanor immediately.
If you know him as the "Angel of Music," his voice will appear to you once you're alone, asking you what's wrong and assuring you you can confide in him—he will insist you tell him, though. "There are to be no secrets between us, Y/N." He will listen without interjection as you vent your heart out, and when you're done, soothe you. Don't let his calming voice deceive you, though; behind that mirror, he's seething, planning to take matters into his own hands.
If you know him as Erik, he will go to you the second he recognizes the shift in your mood and take you from what you're doing, regardless of your wishes. He'll sit you down, kneeling before you with your hands in his, and gaze into your eyes, imploring you to tell him what's wrong. He'll absolutely allow you physical comfort, but he will also absolutely insist you tell. He'll need reassurance that you're not angry at him, because that thought would break his heart.
He will let you vent however you wish. You could have the most dramatic breakdown ever—throwing things, beating your fists on his chest, wailing—and he wouldn't judge you. He would be awfully concerned, though.
Will be 110% on your side. You are his poor little meow meow. "My poor love, my poor Y/N!" He is beside himself with sympathy for you and you only, and is very offended on your behalf.
He will always suggest music as an outlet for your anger, but he will have taken note of your other hobbies and interests as well. He'll fetch your things for you without being asked, as long as it won't separate him from you for very long. If you'd rather just have comfort, that's fine, too. He could hold your hand and caress your face for hours on end under normal circumstances, so no problem there. He may also suggest a little time on the surface, if you normally live in his home. Fresh air will do you both good, he reasons, and he enjoys spending time with you where others can witness it. It fills him with pride and love.
Otherwise, he's at your service for any other soothing activities you need. A calming bath, some sweets, shopping, anything. Perhaps avoid asking for any sexual contact, however. First of all, being asked directly makes him very skittish and nervous; second of all, his method of love-making (when you can coax him) is very intimate and tender, which may be tedious if you're in an angry mood.
Unless the situation is extremely serious or dire, his first priority is making sure you're soothed. Once that duty is fulfilled, however, he is absolutely angrier about it than you are. If it's not that serious, he won't skip straight to killing, if only because he knows it upsets you. He will definitely be writing an extremely strongly worded letter, however. If someone slighted you seriously, they're getting threatened. If someone hurt you physically, they're meeting the Punjab lasso.
Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)
Deacon definitely knows when people are angry. His step-mom was a passive-aggressive laundry-folder and his dad was a storming out of the house kinda guy; when the two of them were together, they were all hushed but heated arguments at night when they thought he couldn't hear them, or else extremely embarrassing passive-aggressive arguments in public. Growing up, he found himself around a lot of angry people. And there's no shortage of anger in him, either.
So yeah, Deacon knows when people are pissed, and he knows when people are pissed at him. The thing is, he just thinks it's fucking hilarious. He was that kid that would goad peers and teachers just to be an asshole and had virtually no friends as a result. He's a menace on the internet, too: a horrible troll for no reason, stirring the pot even when he doesn't have a stake in the argument. He's trained himself to find people's weak spots so he can strike at them. He does it to make himself feel more in control of his life and his own anger.
So when you're ticked off, he's gonna notice the change immediately. If you made a vent post on social media, he probably knows you're angry before you even see him. He follows all your social media (even if you don't realize it) and checks it constantly. He'd call you out of curiosity to ask what happened. He's open about his stalking tendencies: "I saw your post, babe, who do I need to stab?"
If you otherwise come home angry, he'll be up on his feet, following you around the house and pestering you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. If you try to hug him, he won't push you away, but he'll be distracted, trying to needle answers out of you the whole time.
There's no question in his mind as to whether or not you're angry at him. He just assumes you're not; he has a pretty good handle on how you act when you're angry at him specifically.
He'll let you rant all day if you want. You could talk about the shit that's pissed you off for hours and he'd still listen. Outwardly, he might poke you a bit and play devil's advocate for the other side of the argument, if there is one. This is purely for the purposes of being a little shit.
Internally, he's already going down his pre-murder checklist. If it was someone at work, they're dead. Someone in the neighborhood, dead. Online? It'll take a couple days, but they're dead. Even if you're not angry at anyone in particular, just a situation, he'll find someone to menace. He'd walk through fire for your approval.
He's not good with soft, emotional comfort, so instead he'll try to think of something to help you let off steam. His go-to is something competitive, especially if it involves you chasing each other. A Nerf or water gun war, a PVP game with you on opposite sides. He'll put up a good fight, but you always kick his ass.
Once the immediate situation is addressed and you've ranted your heart out to him, he can't keep his hands off you. "Seeing you all pissed off drives me crazyyyyyy." He's grinning, brown eyes sparkling. "Come onnnnn ... I'll get it off your mind!"
Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC)
Courtney is a hunter of all manner of game, so he's used to interpreting non-verbal cues and body language—when an animal is in distress, when an animal is about to attack, etc. His grandfather was a very angry man, as well, in a simmering sort of way. He would seethe about something before suddenly delivering one decisive strike. Courtney himself is not a particularly angry man, unless some prey is really giving him a hard time, but he can read your body.
If you come home angry, he'll stop in the middle of what he's doing and watch you, still and quiet, just confirming his suspicions. If you leave the room he's in to go collapse on the sofa or something, he'll follow you, looming over you and waiting for you to tell him what's wrong. He's patient.
If you want to vent, he'll sit and listen thoughtfully, doing something with his hands while you speak—probably cleaning his gun or some other weapon. He doesn't look at you. He wouldn't demand greater context to the situation but he would ask "Why?" and "Who?" until he understood Enough.
If you want comfort, he'll sprawl on the couch and let you lay on top of him. He'll probably pull a blanket on top of you to try and encourage a nap. If the nap doesn't make you feel better, he's feeding you protein. Do you like homemade jerky?
Sex is also on the table (not literally ... unless). He's found it's a great way to blow off steam, and he's more than happy to make all worries, troubles, and other thoughts go away for a little bit. Expect that to be the rest of your night, though, because he doesn't do quickies.
Generally, he trusts you to handle your own shit, so he would be more focused on you than whatever made you feel the way you do. However, if days passed and you were still angry/upset/sad, or if it plunged you into a breakdown or was an otherwise extremely serious situation ... just give him a target. It's up to you, but if you tell him to take the shot, it'll be quick and clean. If you're unable to make the decision, he'll decide for you without hesitation.
Kathleen Montgomery (OC)
I'm still developing her so this one won't be as in-depth and is subject to change.
Kath makes it her business to know everything about you. Chances are she's seen you explode screaming while stalking you ... chances are, if you've been in a relationship for a while, she's made you explode screaming. She knows what you look like when you're angry. Besides, she's strong for her size, but she often has to take down people who are much bigger and stronger than her; she uses manipulation and trickery to help ease that divide, so she's good at reading people.
Like Deacon, she also monitors all your social media, so if you made a vent post, she already knows you're in a shitty mood before you come home. Unlike Deacon, she doesn't tell you how she knows, so you're left to assume she's just all knowing. Considering her god complex, that works for her.
She'd probably text you to come home, and she expects you to answer. If you're unable to come home, she'll call you to ask what's wrong.
Once you're together, she wants to know everything about the situation. Even as you're speaking, she's already on her phone or laptop, looking up the people involved. Instead of getting mad on your behalf, she laughs. She's a fan of emphasizing how pathetic or weak the opposition is.
She takes your feelings on the subject seriously, but everyone else in the situation? Insects. Not even worthy of your time or concern, let alone hers. You're obviously in the right here (even if you're not). She'll tell you as much, and say some pretty intense, over-the-line things about whomever/whatever you're angry at.
Overall, however, she's calm and collected about the situation. Your bout of anger is a chance to get you to be reckless with her. She'll do your hair and makeup and dress you up nice, then take you out. Fast driving, drinking, baiting people at bars, menacing neighborhoods ... maybe a little killing, if you'd like.
***
Masterlist
#imagines#slasher imagine#slasher imagines#slasher x you#slasher x reader#slasher x y/n#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#lester sinclair#courtney dwayne delmont#kathleen montgomery#og michael myers#deacon billings#michael myers#jason voorhees#leslie vernon#thomas hewitt#tommy hewitt#bubba sawyer#leatherface#brahms heelshire#erik the phantom#ghostface#slashers#slasher fandom#slasher community#slasher fic
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DENTIST THE BAD BOI
Word count: 7k
A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.
Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.
Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.
MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2
“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.
She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.
She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.
It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.
“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.
“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.
“What d'ya mean?”
“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.
“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.
“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.
“He’s not a catwhore!”
“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”
“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.
“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.
“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.
“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.
Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.
“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”
..
Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”
“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.
“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”
“Harry.” Her tone threatening.
Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.
“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.
His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.
“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.
“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.
“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.
He has never seen her this defenceless.
He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.
..
“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.
“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.
Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.
It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.
“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.
“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.
When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”
“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.
“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.
“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.
“I see.”
“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”
“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.
He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.
She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.
..
“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”
“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.
Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.
A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.
“You’re mad, know that.”
..
Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.
Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.
Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.
They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.
..
What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).
Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.
“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.
“I’ll scream.” She warns him.
“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.
“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.
Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.
She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.
Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.
Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.
When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).
When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.
He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.
“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.
Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.
His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.
He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.
“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?
Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.
“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.
“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.
Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.
They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.
There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.
“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.
“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.
“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”
“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.
“Who are you, Y/N?
She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”
..
“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.
“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.
“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.
(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.
“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)
“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.
“Where are we going?”
“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.
“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.
“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.
“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”
Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.
He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.
“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.
“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.
Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.
“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.
She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.
“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.
He’s gonna fulfill his promise.
..
Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.
Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.
Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.
His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.
“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.
When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.
Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.
Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.
She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.
..
“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.
Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.
“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.
Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.
“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.
“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.
“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”
He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”
“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.
When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.
“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.
“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.
“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”
Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.
He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”
..
Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.
The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.
“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.
“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.
“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.
“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.
“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”
“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”
“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.
..
It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.
She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.
“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.
“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.
“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.
“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.
“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.
Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.
But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.
She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.
She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.
“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.
“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.
He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.
“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.
He warms her in all the right places.
..
“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.
“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.
“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”
“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.
Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.
“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.
“Is that so?”
He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t? Why?”
“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.
She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.
“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.
“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.
“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.
“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”
“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.
That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?
..
Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.
She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.
“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.
“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.
So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.
She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.
She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.
“Please ....”
“Stay.”
Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.
“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.
“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.
#been excited for this for so long 🥺#give it as much love as possible#yahoooooooo yipeee#yipee#Harry Styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut#dirty harry styles imagines#harry styles one shots#harry smut#harry styles fanfiction#fluff#cute harry#harry styles#harry angst#hsh#dom harry#dentist harry × reader#dentistrry#doctor harry x artist reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smutty imagines#harry styles dirty one shots#naughty harry
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Brothers React to a Demigod MC
So, I've gotten some interest to do a Brothers follow-up to a previous request of mine (Undateables React to a Cute, Badass MC), however, I've thus far refused to write one. Honestly, this HC actually plays on a trope I personally dislike and had it not been a request I would have never done it to start with. I just can't see any reasonable way a non-magic human can beat a bunch of demons, I just can't, and that hinders my imagination quite a bit. …But someone who’s not so human? That I can get behind. Fair warning, I grew up with the Percy Jackson series so that’s going to paint quite a bit of how I see modern demigods. Ready for things to get super-ultra fanfic-y for a bit?
Intro:
The day to kidnap bring the exchange students to the Devildom has finally come and the demons have all gathered in the Council Room to open their portal to the human world. Really, things started without a hitch - the portal opened with and their future student dropped down out of it and landed on the floor… before they suddenly leapt up, pulled out a weapon, and lunged at them!
… This isn’t your normal human, it is?
Lucifer
Oh Devil, this couldn’t have been any farther than what they wanted… They were looking for a human and they managed to pull out a halfling! A divine halfling no less!! Why wasn’t this in their file?!
Look, Lucifer might not be on good terms with his father, but even he knows he had it better than any children of the pagan gods… The levels of petty vindictiveness that run through that bunch are literally the stuff of legends...
After he and Barbatos were able to restrain the MC before they hurt themselves or anyone else, Diavolo explained everything to them and gave them a pardon for attacking the Demon Prince on sight… After they identified themselves and their parentage, Lucifer knew they were in for some shit…
He and Diavolo had to iron out an apology letter to their godly parent for days just to keep from saying anything that could accidentally cause a second Troy or worse... It was a mess...
But on the bright side, the “human” came pre-prepared for fighting monsters and demons, which honestly took a bit of a load off his shoulders. That’s less responsibility for Mammon - and in his experience, the less responsibility Mammon has, the better things usually turn out.
… Though their ability to actually hold their own in a fight did make things complicated sometimes - like whenever he was their perceived opponent...
He wasn’t expecting to have to manage a being that was actually capable of meeting him toe-to-toe on the battlefield and it did hinder his intimidation factor to some degree…It was hard to be threatening to someone who’s likely faced worse than you could ever offer.
In the end it probably worked out for the best, as a live exchange student is better for Diavolo than a dead one - but man did it get on his nerves until they made their pact together… Be scared of him, dammit!
Mammon
The first time he tried to threaten the human, they straight up pulled out a weapon and looked like they were ready to whip his ass!! Didn’t they know he wasn’t being serious?? 😫
He really didn’t know why he had to be on babysitting duty, anymore... This huma-er demigod could handle themselves just fine!
When he first ditched them with Levi, he later found out they managed to cleanly toss his brother over their head and make a break for it all by themselves! And Levi’s no pushover either!!
Later, he saw them getting ambushed on their way back from school and they soundly knocked out about five demons before he even caught up to them… and he’s, like, fast and stuff…
Their strength is kind of unreal at times, but he could tell they were still far from a mindless killing machine. They were more or less a normal person, they had wants and dreams like anybody else, but they just happened to be a long stronger than the average mortals around them. 🤷♀️
After he eventually got to know them and a bit about how their life worked, he felt a little bad for them... Who wants to be hunted down just for being born?
After learning about their struggles, Mammon ended up resolving to help keep them safe (even if a part of him knew they didn’t need him that much).
I mean, if the whole world’s against you, then you can use all the help you can get... right?
Leviathan
Levi found out exactly one thing about them within the first two minutes of meeting them… their reflexes were killer.
After Mammon ditched them on Day One, he tried to drag the human to his room to tell them his genius plan but they broke out of his grip and threw him flat on his back like was just second nature!
He was stuck on the ground for a full minute, trying to process what just happened, while they ran off into the House all alone…
Did he just get tossed around… by a human?? Was he really that pathetic!?!
Finding out later that they were actually half-god certainly helped out his self-esteem because, man, if he had lost so easily to a human of all things... He might have just never left his room again…
Levi pretty much kept his distance from them until they finally made a pact together and then he discovered that the MC wasn’t so scary after all. If he’s being honest, being in the same house as a demigod was actually kind of cool...!
Like, it was almost exactly the plot of the show: “Wait, I Thought I Was the Son of a Pagan God So What Am I Doing in a Christian Hell??” but their MC seemed to know a lot more about fighting than the protagonist of that show ever did…
Plus, because he never had to worry about their safety, he had even more excuse to never leave his room. Win-win!
Satan
A demigod, eh…? He had done plenty of research into human world mythologies in his spare time, frankly he thought the old gods had died out - but it seems they were still up and kicking… and making babies for whatever reason? Horny bastards...
Satan's original interest in the MC was purely academic. It’s not everyday that you get to meet someone of such a unique heritage and he fully intended to learn if all the legends about their greatness were true… and well...
He could say that the MC was certainly different than how he pictured humans being. He’d never met very many before, but from what he could gather they were a weak race that really got by on wit and persistence… However, nothing about the MC was weak.
Their aptitude for combat was surprisingly sharp, both in skill and reflexes. He had once blown up at them in anger and not only did they dodge his swipes but they got in a good few hits themselves with a nearby lamp… He never once thought a mortal could give him a black-eye but, somehow, they pulled it off. 🤷♀️
Combine their physical skill with what magical gifts were granted to them by their godly-half and they were a force to be reckoned with… Even Solomon seemed to hesitate and think more about his actions around them (which is saying something for a sorcerer of his strength).
It’d be fair to say a part of him grew to respect the MC long before they ever made their pact and that respect only grew afterwards. If he had to be bound to any master, human or otherwise, he’d rather it be one that he could right about consider an equal not only as a friend, but in strength as well.
Asmodeus
A demigod…? Oooo, he hadn’t come across one of those since he bedded Aeneas all those centuries ago… Such a gorgeous man, got all his looks from his mother~! 🤭
Asmo was probably the most interested in their godly heritage, but it felt like he was treating them like a zoo exhibit for a while… Something pretty and new to look at, but not exactly someone he wanted to know personally...
He openly and readily admitted that watching their little demigod in action got him hot and bothered (or well, more hot and bothered than usual ) but it didn’t take him to see they weren’t interested at the time…
He decided that he just had to have a pact with them after they saved him from Henry 1.0! It was before he noticed the giant snake and he was lurching back to strike, but the human swept in to knock him out of the way. They probably could have made mince meat of the creature themselves if Levi weren’t begging for them to spare his former pet...
Post-pact Asmo treated them with a lot more respect… but also still fanboyed over their fighting skills hardcore.
Like, their body had to be fit to keep up with all those monsters, right?? What was their training routine? Could he watch?? Oh please say he can watch!! He just can’t get enough of that fighter’s physique…! 😍
Beelzebub
So… the human isn’t a human but only part human? And the other part is a god? Does that make them any sturdier than normal humans…? Call him curious…
Beel was probably one of the few brothers who was legitimately weary of the MC from the beginning… He can get a certain feel for a person pretty quickly and something about them just felt…frankly, kind of dangerous.
But they also intrigued him a little… Beel’s used to being one of the strongest demons in any room he walks into (not a boast, just a fact) so for him to get that feel from a mortal was pretty impressive. A part of him just wanted to test them… you know?
So. He did. He asked them to help him train his martial arts one day and even with his awareness, he was not expecting the results that he got.
The MC was strong. Very strong. They were not only able to keep up with him and dodge his blows, but they were able to predict his moves and counterattack in kind. They didn’t even need to tell him that they had actually been fighting for their life for years, he could tell. They had a skill you don’t get from practice matches...
After that point, the two would go to each other to train and keep their skills sharp… but also just to spar for fun. Their fighting styles made a pretty good match and they bonded pretty damn quick because of it.
If anime tells us anything, when you find a good fight buddy, you stick with them. Even if one’s part god and the other is a demon. 🤷♀️
Belphegor
A demigod is still human enough to hate, sorry MC. Not that he knew about their godly heritage at first…
Really, he should have been a little more suspicious of how easily they seemed to take to life in the Devildom... Weren’t demons supposed to scare humans? Why did they seem so comfortable down here...?
His confirmation only came when he tried to enact the final part of “Use the MC to Escape the Attic!” plan and take their life to seal the deal… but oh boy, was he outclassed real quick…
The MC had already socked him in the jaw by the time he got his full demon form out and then they threw him across the room by the tail… the TAIL!! And it hurt like a bitch, too!! Even during the full blown fight that followed, he could tell they were holding back and it pissed him off something fierce...!
Why was the MC so strong?!? Humans weren’t supposed to be strong!!!
His brothers heard all the commotion and the Lilith confrontation ended up happening up in the attic between a somewhat beat-up Belphie and a barely-scratched MC. Had Beel not come to his defense on instinct, it might have turned out worse for him in all honesty… Something about that human just wasn’t right…
He only found out about their god-half after everything settled down and he promised not to try killing them again (not that anyone thought he could...) and that put some things into perspective. So the Lastborn Ruler of Hell isn’t as strong as one mortal demigod…? Ouch. Okay, fine then... Whatever...
He does think it’s too bad he missed them beating the crap out of the rest of his brothers, though (minus Beel)... That would have been fun to see. 😔
So I tried to keep this one God-parent neutral, but I’ve upgraded this to its own series! Check it out if you’re interested! 😊
Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#this was pretty fun#another for the fav list
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