#I'll probably reblog this in the morning since it's so late now
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tvrningout · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
sadly i wasn't able to get any writing done tonight and will be a lil busy tomorrow, but pls have some chiyo headcanons before i go to bed <3
tokyo ghoul is really up there as far as chiyo's favorite series go; she has a lot of nostalgia for it, though when she reads/watches it, she tends to skip around the parts that make her sad. hide is her favorite character :' )
in general, chiyo gravitates towards characters who are very loyal and pretend to be fools/incompetent. the goofier and/or the snarkier, the better tbh!
the clerks at her local convenience store know her by name now and sometimes join her while she eats cheap ramen. she used to feel embarrassed bc it's a terrible habit to visit the store in the wee hours of the morning, but now she likes that they're growing to be friends. sometimes she'll tell them plot ideas for upcoming manga chapters
chiyo dabbles in all sorts of video games, most enjoying fantasy rpg's and horror games. she grew up watching her dad play the final fantasy and resident evil franchises, though her mom wasn't too happy when chiyo had nightmares about zombies later on :' )
chiyo has a bunch of different playlists she listens to according to vibe, activity, and the kind of inspiration she's looking for. all of these playlists were made by her cousin naoki
though she doesn't mind at all being the little spoon, chiyo prefers being the big spoon! there's something comforting about being pressed against someone's back, burying her face in their shoulder
chiyo constantly talks herself into and out of anything and everything. a new pair of jeans, hanging out after work, a new friendship, buying a new computer -- chiyo argues with herself a lot
chiyo's favorite studio ghibli film is howl's moving castle
10 notes · View notes
hhughes · 24 days ago
Text
៹࣪ ៸៸ CLINGY . . . ꒱꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🍵 (blurb)— trevor tries to convince you to skip your morning workout and stay in bed with him
𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. gf!reader x trevor zegras. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. domesticity. suggestive content. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. miss writing for my guy trev. as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3
Tumblr media
You sigh watching the coffee slowly pour into your cup. You desperately needed the caffeine after getting up this early. It was 7am on a Saturday and you wanted nothing more than to get back in bed and sleep in 'til noon, but you couldn't. You and Trevor were attending a friend's birthday lunch that would probably go until late afternoon, and if you didn't go to the gym now, you wouldn't have time to go at all.
Usually you wouldn't be opposed to just skipping a gym session, especially if you had plans but you had already skipped 2 days this week and you didn't want to skip another. A creak in the door made you turn your head towards the left where a very sleepy Trevor was shuffling his way over to you, yawning and hair sticking in every direction.
The sight made you giggle slightly and you turned your attention back to the coffee, noticing the cup was filled. You put the lid on your cup, just as your boyfriend's arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you against him tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up baby," you say, genuinely feeling bad, knowing the start of the season is always an adjustment and he needed his rest.
"come back to bed" he mumbles against your skin, his soft breaths and ends of his hair tickling you slightly.
"I can't. I have to go to the gym" you say, ignoring his hmm of protest, trying to grab your cup in front of you but Trevor was faster and snatched the cup, holding it above his head before you could take it.
You turn around glancing up at the cup that you couldn't reach and gave your boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Really? You're so immature Trev." you say slightly annoyed and he grins. You are so hot when you are mad.
"Babe, you have the hottest body I've ever seen. You don't need to go to the gym." he says, voice slightly groggy since he hasn't been up that long. He was still holding the cup above his head even though you hadn't made an attempt to grab it.
"It's not about how I look. It's about being active. Sometimes I barely get my 10k steps in a day, not all of us play a sport for a living, remember?" you ask but he's not really paying attention, taking a sip of your coffee and immediately scrunching his nose up. He knows you don't take any sugar, but he still drinks it every time, thinking it's gonna taste differently.
"There's other ways you can be active. So many other ways. Come back to bed and I'll show you." he says putting the cup on the counter, hands falling to your hips and pulling you closer to him.
"You're insufferable." you protest, voice fading a little when he starts laying little kisses on your collarbone.
"Come on. I'll make it worth it. I promise you'll burn more calories with me than you will in the gym and you'll have so much more fun doing it." he whispers, his hands sliding down to grab your ass.
You bite your lip, thinking about it for a second before pulling his head down to meet yours in a kiss. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you back to bed. It's not like you weren't active at all, right?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
247 notes · View notes
that-sarcastic-writer · 6 months ago
Text
Coffee and Other Things
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language
WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things
A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.
If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there
Universe masterlist
Tumblr media
God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.
You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 
You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.
But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 
"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."
"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 
Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 
She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 
"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 
The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 
"Thank you daddy!" 
"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 
Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  
You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 
"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 
"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 
You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?
"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 
"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 
"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 
You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 
"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 
"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 
"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 
Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 
But you were so glad you were wrong. 
~~~~
"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 
You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 
This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 
"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.
His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 
"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 
Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 
"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 
Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 
"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 
He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 
He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.
Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 
"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 
He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 
Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 
"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 
"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 
"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 
“Hmph… Careful baby.” 
You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.
“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 
He found the concern in your voice endearing. 
“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 
“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 
“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 
“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 
He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 
“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 
All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 
“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 
Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 
His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 
“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 
It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 
“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 
“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 
Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 
“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 
Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 
He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 
“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 
Please. 
God. 
Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 
“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 
Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 
“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 
“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 
You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 
“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 
He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 
“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 
“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 
He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 
“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 
You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.
“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 
“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 
“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 
A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 
“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 
“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 
And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 
You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 
“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”
393 notes · View notes
inkedbybarnes · 8 months ago
Text
well and perfect
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: bucky has a surprise for your birthday.
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. a lotta fluff, but what's new... mentions of insecurity and anxiety if you blink, bucky being a sweetheart that i wish existed, slighteeest hint of implied smut if you blink, usage of petnames such as baby, doll, and sweetheart, lowercase writing.
a request from the lovely @brnesblogposts. happiest 21st birthday to you! i am sorry it took quite long, so i hope i am not late. i tried to write it in a way that would keep it general but sweet, since i don't know much about the reader celebrating and wanted to cater for more people. i hope you like this one and that you have the best birthday ever. thank you for requesting! 🩷
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
“where are you taking me, james?”
only a few specks of light peeked through the piece of cloth that bucky had over your eyes. his argument was that it will keep you and your curiosity away from figuring out his so-called surprise for your birthday.
“it wouldn't be much of a surprise if i answer you, doll.” he chuckled, his fingers brushing your thigh briefly as he drove to this mysterious location.
“but is it really necessary to have me blindfolded?" you complained, tempted to take a peek. “i wanna see you. this isn't fair.”
“nah uh, you're trying to be all cute for me and it's not going to work this time. we're almost there. be patient,” he said, his hand now finding its way up to yours. “keep it on and i swear it'll be worth it. at least, i hope it will.”
you sensed his doubts and worries right away, feeling bad for pressuring him when all he did was make you feel special since you woke up this morning. from bringing you the breakfast in bed of your dreams to showering you with gifts you forgot you mentioned but he completely remembered. oh, and don't forget the cake... the perfect cake you've been drooling over for months!
you assume that you've already been to the place or know the way to it, hence why he had to keep you entirely clueless during the entire ride. not wanting to make him even more nervous, you decided to give up.
“okay, okay. i'll be good and cooperate, i promise.” you squeezed his hand, carefully leaning toward his side to give him a kiss on the cheek, which was a brave decision considering that you were literally blindfolded. “buuut, am i allowed to sing your ears off until we get there?”
“when were you never allowed?” his hand left yours for a moment to turn on the radio, connecting his phone to its bluetooth feature (he thanked technology for that one) and letting the playlist you made play through the speakers. “i know you're bored. so, sing away, sweetheart.”
Tumblr media
the car stopped and probably along with your heart. you knew that this was it. you were finally here, wherever here was, and excitement was an understatement. however, you stayed calm and waited for bucky's confirmation first before reacting.
“i can basically hear your insides shouting,” bucky said as you hear the car door opening. “we're here, baby.”
yes!
“can i take it off now?” you asked quickly. “please, please?”
the car door opened at your side, the rough yet warm chuckle of bucky letting you know he was right beside you. “alright, take 'em off.”
not waiting for another second, you grabbed the cloth away from your eyes and scanned the area. although it took you a few minutes to figure it out, you knew where you were.
“oh my god, we're in brooklyn?” you asked with a gasp, but even more excited now that you were in one of bucky's favourite places in the world.
“yeah, is that okay? i knew you wanted me to give you a better tour around brooklyn, so here it is.” he pressed his fingers into his nape, worried that you might find the entire idea out of place or unfitting for the occasion. “i would've thrown you a party like the team suggested, but i don't.. i don't know how that works yet. i'm not really good at whatever people do for celebrations these days, so i wanted to show you the way i knew it back then but i'm suddenly not sure if you'd like it.”
you could basically hear your heart break as he tried to explain. it hasn't been that long since he had been away from wakanda and pardoned by the government, so he hasn't fully adjusted with the changes that the current generation had. while bucky never paid attention in terms of fitting in, he wanted to fit in your life. little does he know that nobody else could be a better fit.
“no. stop that, bucky. look at me.” you hopped off the car, closing the distance between the two of you. “does it look like i'm sad? disappointed? anything relatively negative?" he shook his head. “exactly, because i'm so excited for what you have planned. you barely even started and i feel like i already won the lottery. so stop worrying, please?”
“i just don't want you to think that i'm being selfish. it's your birthday, you know? it should be about you, but here i am taking you to a place where i grew up in and has nothing to do with you,” he said, his anxiety and insecurity taking over. “but i really thought about this and i.. i just want you to be a part of all of me, even if we were basically from different times. i want you to know that if we were to meet back then, i'd fall for you the same way if not harder, and this is exactly how i'd show you.”
timeless love and devotion.
that was his gift and he thought he was being selfish.
and if it was possible to burst, you probably would've. he didn't even realise how priceless his gift was compared to anything you could've asked for, and yet he felt like he was failing you.
“i love you. so, so much. you know that, right?” you reassured him first, and when he nodded you continued. “i would've enjoyed a party, sure. anything from you would be perfect for me, but a party would most likely just give me a few days of happiness, maybe a memorable memory too, but this.. what you're giving me will last me a lifetime. you don't understand how big this is for me and here you are thinking that you're failing me.”
“i'm not?” he asked, lost in the battle he had within his mind.
“short answer? you basically made me fall in love with you again.”
“really?" his eyes twinkled, as if he was a child being complimented for his scribbles.
you let out a giggle before answering. “yes, now can we start my birthday tour? you made me wait all day, barnes.”
“well, that's no good. can't have my birthday girl waiting," he said, finally smiling. “this way, gorgeous.”
Tumblr media
you spent the entire day visiting his favourite spots. although most of them were already replaced with something else, he still made sure to tell you the stories behind them and how they mattered to him, as well as a few playful scenarios he made that included you and young bucky if you were in the 40s.
he then took you to a restaurant he found fancy and expensive back then, telling you that he remembered saying to himself that he'd only bring a special girl to the restaurant and make her feel special. not being able to help it, you asked if he ever brought a girl there back then.
you were the first one, and he knew you were his last.
on your way to the movie theatre, he didn't forget to show you the alley where he'd always find steve in trouble. you both even took a picture in it to show the team, especially steve, when you get home.
“i feel like a teenager again.”
bucky sat beside you at one of the oldest theatres in brooklyn, the same one bucky used to visit back in the 40s, to watch a movie you've been wanting to see. it was a surprise that it was still up and running, but with its history now being connected to the famous steve rogers and bucky barnes, it was easily a tourist spot.
“you're 107 years old, james. i think you're quite past that stage already.” you reminded him which earned you a sharp glance and a pout.
“what i mean is, this is exactly how i imagined i'd take you out back then. you know, asking you to dinner, going to the theatre to watch a movie we'd completely ignore because i'll be too busy distracting you—”
“distracting me, huh?” you asked, even more intrigued. “how exactly would you distract me? what if i'm really interested in the movie?”
“did i really say that? god, i'm even recklessly acting like a teenager as well.” you watched his cheeks turn into a shade of pink. you raised a brow, prompting him to explain further. “it's dark and we're really close. after all the time and tension we've spent before coming here, i would be desperate to kiss you.”
“james buchanan barnes!” you gasped, a fake and exaggerated one. “those are some bad thoughts you're having, and i thought you were a gentleman.”
“i am, i am!” he exclaimed, failing to hear the playful tone to your words. “i wouldn't even do anything beyond holding someone's hands back then. my ma would put me in a cage if i did anything reckless," he said, shaking his head with a smile at the memory of his mom. “but i played this scenario a thousand times in my head already ever since i met you. i just know you would've made me crazy for you, and you still do.”
you looked into his cool blue eyes, getting lost in them in silence while imagining what your life could've been with him back in the 40s. would've it been different? would've it lasted? would've it been a possibility? is that what he hoped he had?
“you got quiet.” he noticed. “what's going inside that pretty head?”
“you.”
“well, i'm honoured.” he grinned. “tell me about it.”
“i'm just thinking about how it would've been like back then,” you answered. “i kinda wish we met sooner. i think that's what you have wanted instead.”
“you're all that i ever wanted. not the time, not the place, but the person,” he said, kissing your fingers before linking yours and his together. “we may not have met earlier, but i was meant to end up with you. i probably had to go through everything.. that happened, because there was something amazing waiting for me in the end.”
“oh, bucky. don't say that. you deserved none of that. you don't have to go through anything to have me.”
“but it's true, you made it all worth it,” he shrugged. “if i had to go through all of that nightmare again, i would do it in a heartbeat if i'll wake up to this reality.”
“god, you make it impossible for me not to cry.” you sniffed, feeling the dam break at his words. “thank you. not just for this day, but for everything. i wish i could do more to let you know that i love you so much.”
“i love you even more. you're already doing more than i deserve, baby.” he kissed your tears away, then your forehead. “don't cry, that wasn't my plan for your birthday.”
“it's your fault for being so fucking perfect.” you hit his chest softly. “now i am never letting you go.”
“i already made the same decision the moment you told me your name. now, come here.” he pulled you into a hug, letting you cry in his embrace until you notice the silence around you. you looked around and noticed the empty theatre, as well as the rolling credits on the big screen.
“we watched nothing from the movie! they all left!”
“okay, i am definitely guilty for that one. i did say i was going to distract you. i promise to get us another ticket tomorrow and have no distractions.” he laughed, standing up to his feet and offering his hand to you. “let's go? i booked us a room, and i heard their room service is amazing.”
you took his hand and smoothed out your clothes. “something tells me the room service comes exactly from you.”
“oh, i don't know...” he had a sinister smile on his face as you both walked out of the theatre. “you gotta try to find out.”
Tumblr media
you walked hand in hand to the hotel, liking the idea of enjoying the night sky of brooklyn than taking a cab, especially if the hotel wasn't that far away.
all was well and perfect until you felt a cold drop of water land on your cheek.
“wait, is that...” before you could finish your sentence, a downpour suddenly erupted, instantly wetting you both.
“it's raining!” you exclaimed, finding the situation amusing than a way to dampen your mood, remembering how much you adored the rain and the idea of being underneath it with someone you love. “you know, i actually dreamt of being—”
bucky suddenly pulled you close, kissing you under the rain. through your soaked clothes and the raindrops that trickled down your face, he can feel your warm and soft lips pressed against his. it was a perfect moment as the rain continued to pour down, leaving you both soaked, but content.
“wow,” you whispered after. “it was always in my bucket list to get kissed under the rain.”
“i know, i remember.”
your heart skipped a beat. “you remember everything, don't you?”
“everything about you, i do.” he wiped the streaks of rain around your eyes, then down to your lips. “are you happy?”
“so, so happy. you have no idea," you answered, sighing in contentment while your body was pressed against his. “i'm at a point where i feel like none of this is real.”
“believe it, because you have to get used to it.” he smiled, leaning for another kiss. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”
all was indeed well and perfect.
Tumblr media
if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
346 notes · View notes
sen-ya · 7 months ago
Text
Life After Info Post
[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]
Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.
Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)
Relationships: Luffy x Law
Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday
Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]
Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.
OLD UPDATES:
[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.
[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao
[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊
[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)
[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!
[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.
[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.
385 notes · View notes
bubbly-parker · 1 year ago
Text
~Stiles x Reader Best Friends to Lovers~
warnings: Angst, family fights, bullying by family member(grandma), body insecurities, plus size reader, f reader, SMUT: face sitting, oral both m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP UP) 18+ NO MINORS I'll tell your Mom! Stiles and Y/N are 18 yo in this and in their last year of highschool.
summary: After another nasty comment about your body by your grandma you stormed out of the house, your best friend Stiles picked you up and decided that today would be the night he shows you how hot you really are.
probably like 5-6k words ? just guessing here
REQUESTED? : YES
spoiler : Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful
a/n: my insomnia is kicking my ass rn, I have an exam in 5 hours its 3 am and I can't sleep so enjoy, also if things don't make the most sense in some parts of the story it's because it is 3am- the ending was rushed i have no brain energy left to think of a real ending I'll revisit this story in the next few days and fix it if necessary enjoy and don't forget to please reblog if you liked it and leave a request right here
Tumblr media
"So, Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, looking over to you in his passenger seat.He could tell you were in a sour mood before he even picked you up.
You were rounding the street, leaving your house behind. You didn't want to answer at all; tears were already burning behind your eyes, threatening to spill. "No" was all you managed to choke out before your tears started freefalling. You hung your head low, watching your tears drop on your lap.
Stiles had no idea what was going on; just a few hours ago after school, he dropped you off at home, and you had a bright smile on your face knowing your family was over for a visit and you hadn't seen most of them since moving to Beacon Hill with your parents two years ago. In the last two years, Stiles and you have grown inseparable; he's the best friend you could have ever asked for, so when you texted him at 1 in the morning asking him to come to pick you up, he knew something was off. He could always tell.
It wasn't unusual for you two to go on late-night drives, but the way you had conveyed your message seemed off immediately: "You need to come pick me up right now." Stiles didn't hesitate; he threw on whatever clothes he could find and took an extra hoodie with him, sneaking past his dad and out into the cold night air. He tossed the extra hoodie onto Roscoe's back seat, knowing you probably didn't even put a jacket on. And he was right, driving towards your house. He saw your silhouette standing in your driveway, no jacket on, just your PJ shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he swore were missing from his closet. You walked towards the jeep, and when Stiles stopped, you entered without a word, put your seatbelt on, and all you said was a quiet "drive".
Stiles didn't know what to do; you didn't want to talk, but he couldn't stand watching you cry; it made his stomach churn and his chest feel tight in a sickening way. He needed you to be okay.
He reached his right hand over to you, taking your hand that was fidgeting with your shirt in his. You loved the way his fingers wrapped around your hand; it always made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even if he was just doing it to comfort you. You let out a choked sob that went straight to Stiles's heart breaking it a little. "I can't help you feel better if you don't talk to me," Stiles whispered, but the Jeep was so quiet that you understood him perfectly. You knew he was right, and you also knew that if anyone could make you feel better, it was Stiles.
Stiles already had a feeling about what was wrong but didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. He knew you loved your family, but they could be harsh at times. You told him about a year ago how, especially, your grandma would often give you a hard time because of your weight. He found it ridiculous because a) it was none of your grandma's business what your body looked like, and b) he thought you looked amazing—the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He loved holding you close and loved the way your body felt pressed against him. You've slept over at his place multiple times in the last two years, and holding you close as you slept is still his favorite pastime ever. Of course, he told you multiple times that you look amazing either way, but he understands how hard it is to feel comfortable in your own body, especially when your personal bully used to live with you.
Ever since moving away, your relationship with your family has gotten far better. Before, you used to live in one big house with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins constantly around you.
You wanted to tell Stiles what happened and wanted him to hold you and make it seem like everything was alright, but your grandma's voice kept nagging you: "You better start dropping a few Pounds if you ever want that boy to like you back." That was the first thing she dared say to you as you walked into the house earlier. She had been watching you through the kitchen window as Stiles dropped you off after school.
Anyone could tell how in love you were with Stiles by the way you smiled at him. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss it, like Stiles, as Lydia likes to point out; he was one of those absolute idiots, as he doesn't seem to notice your feelings for him. Your mother immediately interfered with your grandmother and told her to back off; they never got along, as she treated your mother with just as much kindness as she showed you, none.
You didn't feel hungry sitting with your family during dinner, and even though your mother had served your favorite lasagna, you could only stomach a little salad from the side dishes before you excused yourself and went back to your room. Part of you knew your grandma was right. Stiles would never like you back in the way that you like him; your name doesn't start with Lyd and end with ia, nor are you a fit strawberry blonde; no, you're about the exact opposite of what Stiles has always desired.
Shortly before you texted Stiles to come pick you up, your grandma had entered your room. You had honestly thought that she would be in bed by now, as you hadn't heard any noise from down the stairs in hours as you kept to yourself in your room. "You know, I am just looking out for you." Your grandmother had started her lecture, a lecture that you are all too familiar with; you've heard it about 250 times by now. She's just looking out for you; she just wants to motivate you to lose some weight; she doesn't want you to end up alone with no man. You never understood where your grandma took her audacity from, considering that she wasn't the skinniest woman herself.
"I saw the way you look at that boy; be real with yourself. Do you really think you'd have a chance with him right now?" Knowing your parents and your family, you couldn't exactly lash out at your grandma, so you did the next best thing you could do, which was only moderately disrespectful: you walked right past her out of your room, put your shoes on, and left the house. You stood in the driveway, and the only person that you wanted to see right now was Stiles. You knew he would pick you up at any time of the day, so you shot him a quick text and ducked yourself into the shadows under a tree in your driveway. You didn't want your grandma to see you, but you knew she was watching again.
Stiles couldn't bear your silence anymore, so he spoke again. This time it startled you, as his voice was more firm and he sounded quite angry. "Was it your grandma?" he asked. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him in disbelief, wondering how he knew. When your eyes met his, they softened; his angry stare was gone. Of course, Stiles knew he always did, didn't he? You weakly nodded your head before looking down at your hand again. You suddenly noticed how cold it was in Roscoe, and you shivered. Stile's hand let go of yours as he reached behind your seat to get his hoodie from the back seat. "Here, I had a feeling you would be freezing," he said as he handed you his hoodie. As you pulled his hoodie over your head, you inhaled Stile's scent deeply, hoping he didn't notice. There was something so intoxicating about Stiles that you didn't know if it was just him in general or if your feelings for him were playing a trick on your mind.
"You know everything your grandma has ever said is not true, right?" You have heard this from many people over the years, but only when Stiles said it did you feel put at ease for a little bit. You sat in comfortable silence, knowing Stiles took over the conversation when you were sad, so you could just listen. "Y/N, I mean it; there's nothing about you that could count as a flaw in the slightest, and I don't know how to make you believe that... Sometimes I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you could realize." Stiles sighed in frustration. You know his frustration wasn't directed at you, but it still made you upset. "Thank you, Stiles," is all you could say.
You leaned your head back against your headrest and closed your eyes. Just now, you noticed that there was music quietly playing in the background. Stiles must have turned it on at some point. It was your playlist, with Until Forever Falls Apart by Ashe playing in the background. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of driving around.
You were startled when Stiles woke you up. You noticed the Jeep was parked in front of his house. Sometime during the drive, you must have fallen asleep. Stiles still sat across from you in the driver's seat, his hand on your cheek as he slowly stroked across it to wake you up. You felt a yawn make its way across your lips and stretched your legs. Stiles got out and rounded the Jeep, opening your door for you. He held it open as you jumped out. Stiles took your hand as he walked toward the door. You shuffled a little closer, putting your head on his arm. You noticed the sheriff's car was gone. "My dad was called back to the station about an hour ago." Stiles said he had noticed you staring at the empty spot where the sheriff's car usually stood. Once inside, you made your way to Stiles's room; according to his alarm clock, it was almost 2 a.m. Stiles must have been driving a bunch of circles around the city while you were asleep. You made a mental note to quickly steal Roscoe tomorrow and fill his tank for Stiles.
You took your shoes off and crawled into Stiles's bed. You heard him shuffle around behind you like he was searching for something, but you just wanted to lie down. A few seconds late, you felt Stiles get in bed behind you, his chest pressed to yours as his arms sneaked around your waist. At first, you hated when Stiles touched your stomach, but at first, you were also not used to cuddling with a boy in general. To anybody walking in, you two would seem like more than just friends, and the thought of that made your heart race. As you lay in silence, you once again noticed music playing in the background. Stiles must have looked for his speakers; your favorite playlist was quietly playing from the direction of his desk.
Stiles's hand sneaked under your, or well, his, hoodie, and he laid it right under your breast on top of your pajama shirt. Suddenly you noticed how hot it was getting under the hoodie and blanket, but you didn't dare move to take it off out of fear Stiles would move back.
Stiles shifted slightly behind you and buried his head in your neck. While you were absentmindedly intertwining your legs, you swore you could feel something poke you from behind. Your eyes widened. You have felt Stiles boner against you before a few times in the mornings and always just shrugged it off as morning wood. You felt Stiles move a little again when he whispered "I'm sorry" right in the nape of your neck. You didn't know how to react as goosebumps covered your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. You thought Stiles would move away from you, but instead, he pulled you in, making you gasp out when you felt his hard-on fully pressed against you.
Stile's head was still buried in your neck when you felt him slightly lift it and press a kiss right between your neck and shoulder. Another shiver wrecked your body as you turned your head slightly to look Stiles in the eyes; he had fully lifted his head, looking down on you.
Stiles didn't know where his sudden boost in confidence had come from, but ever since he saw your tear-filled eyes in the car, he wanted to confess his feelings to you and make you feel beautiful. Usually, when he got a boner around you, he would run off to the bathroom and take care of it, but right now, he wanted you to feel what you do to him.
He felt like he was about to explode with the way you were looking up at him—your big doe eyes, pupils blown wide, and lips gaping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you.
You couldn't make out what you saw in Stiles's eyes right now; his dark eyes were almost black. "I really want to kiss you right now." Stiles's raspy voice said in a whisper that had your breath stuck. When you didn't respond, he moved his head a little closer to your ear. "Can I?" he asked again in a whisper. You could only nod your head. That's when Stiles removed his hand from under your hoodie to cup your face. When his lips finally met yours, you were sure time had stopped. You felt a new set of goosebumps rise on your skin as you kissed Stiles back eagerly, and you both smiled into the kiss when Stiles suddenly moved back. He pushed you back to lay flat on your back as he climbed in between your legs before kissing you again.
He couldn't believe that he was actually kissing you, mentally thanking every god out there for today. Stiles ground your crotches together, which ripped a loud moan from you. You turned your head away, embarrassed by what just happened. You felt Stiles heavy breathing. He took your face back in his hand and turned your head so you would look at him again. He looked heavenly; you can't believe what just happened.
"I've been wanting to do that for two years."
With these few words, Stiles had your whole world crumbling as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. You stared up at Stiles as he slowly started to panic, not knowing what he had done wrong. You couldn't stop the tears from falling. For the past two years, you thought that Stiles only saw you as a friend, when he might have wanted you just the way you wanted him. "Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. I- I m so stupid." Stiles started to sit back and move away from you when you reached for his arm to hold him still. You still had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't stop a smile from stretching across your face. "And I've been waiting for you to do that for the past two years, you idiot." Now, it was Stiles's turn to look absolutely shocked and dumbfounded at the same time. "HuuH?" was the only thing he managed to get past his lips. You laughed at him and leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. A lump in your throat that you didn't know was there dissipated, and when Stiles started kissing you back, you finally wrapped your arm around his neck. Stiles deepened the kiss, asking for permission with his tongue, which you happily granted.
"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to go further," Stiles asked. "Honestly, this was already way more than I ever expected to happen. You don't -"
Stiles groaned into your mouth when he finally got to kiss you the way he wanted to for so long, and when you pushed your hips up to grind against him, he swore he lost his sanity. His hands traveled down your sides and under your hoodie, where they settled at your waist. "Can I take these off?" he referred to his Hoodie on you and your shirt. You hummed, opening your eyes and looking back at him. "I need verbal confirmation, y/n." He chuckled at you. " Yes, Stiles, please." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling your shirt and hoodie above your head in one go. What Stiles didn't know was that you wore no Bra underneath. He tried not to stare at your naked chest underneath him, so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when he looked up at you. You had your head turned away again, slightly covering part of your chest with one hand. He took your hand in his own slowly moving, removing it from your chest.
He leaned back down and started spreading small pecks along your neck and down to your collarbone, which had you whimpering and trusting back up against him.
You felt him smile into your skin. His hand slowly traveled down your body, settling onto your hips and pushing them back down into the mattress. "Patience, baby, we will get there." Stiles moved his head back up and turned your face to look at him. You couldn't keep yourself from blushing at his words. You've never known that Stiles had such a side to him. Your hands tucked slightly at Stiles's shirt, signaling that you wanted it off; he sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt above his head. You've seen Stiles shirtless before, and every time it makes your skin heat up, you're sure you couldn't blush a deeper shade of red as you were staring at his perfect form. When you looked at his face, you noticed he was already looking at you. Watching as you stared at his body, you felt flustered under his dark eyes. Stiles's hands were back on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs that made your legs twitch.
You giggled as you noticed Stiles was starting to get into a nervous ramble. "Stiles, calm down, you're fine, I don't want to stop." For the first time tonight, it felt like you could talk freely with nothing holding you back. "Okay, good, good, but tell me if I need to stop. I will I prom-"
"Stiles! "
"Will you please shut up and get back here?" You reached your arms out to him, signaling to him that you wanted him back on top of you. Stiles smiled as he leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you hadn't planned this, and neither one of you knew how to make the next move. You both knew you wanted more, and you knew that Stiles had slightly more experience than you and hoped he would make the next move.
And thankfully he did. Stiles slowly moved his hand that was still on your thigh a little higher, feeling your breath hitch as he cupped your heat through your pants, slowly rubbing his palm against you. You let a small moan escape your lips, which was swallowed by Stiles as he kept kissing you. He undid the tie of your (his) sweatpants and pushed his hand inside he moved his fingers down over your panties to feel how damp they were. "Stiles, please," you whimpered against his lips. Stiles swore he was so hard that he could come from just looking at you right now. He pulled his hand out, and you buckled your hips in protest. A small laugh passed his lips. He decided not to torture you any longer and started to pull your pants down. You lifted your hips for him to make it easier, and when they were finally off, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your soft skin.
You reached one of your hands between you to cup Stiles's erection through his own sweatpants. Feeling your hands on him for the first time made Stiles let out a loud groan that went straight to your own core.
You pushed Stiles slightly so he would lay on his back as you climbed between his legs. He stared at you as you settled on your stomach between his legs. He wet his lips and groaned when you palmed him harder. He lifted his hips off the bed and watched you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go. You wrapped your hands around him and looked up at him as you leaned forward to lick one long stripe along the underside of his dick up to his tip, where you collected his precum on your tongue. "Fuck, Y/N, don't do that." Stiles threw his head back; there was no way he could look at you if he wanted to last. You wrapped your lips around him and started bobbing your head up and down in a slow rhythm. Stiles groaned above you as his hands grabbed the sheets, and you saw his knuckles turn white.
You took his hand in yours and guided it to the back of your head to signal him that he could take control. Stiles took your hair in his hand and wrapped the other one around your scalp, holding you close. Suddenly, he started thrusting up while simultaneously pulling your head down, his cock going further down your throat with every thrust. You tried your best to breathe through your nose. Stiles moans fueled your desire to make him finish, so you hollowed your checks more and sucked harder. One of his hands left your head, and he draped it lazily over his eyes, thrusting his hips fast and keeping your head down. "I'm I'm close- fu- so close, Y/N." You felt a stutter in his rhythm, and after a few more thrusts, his hips lifted up one last time. He pushed your head down fully, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him, the overstimulation making him pull out.
"Come here," Stiles pulled you towards him. You had to crawl on his lap because you were too short to reach him from your position. Stiles pulled you into another kiss and groaned when your wet panties rubbed against his half-erect dick.
Stiles's hands roamed over your body and settled on your ass; he pushed your hips down to grind harder against him as you were still mostly hovering over him, unsure whether you should put your whole weight on him.
When Stiles finally felt you let go and sink down on his lap he moved one of his hands from your ass and in between your bodies where he pulled your panties aside, he moved back a little so he could see you fully and ran one of his fingers up and down your slit collecting your wetness, you moaned at the feelings of stiles finger on you, he moved his finger up and slowly started drawing circles on your clit with his finger pad, you fell forward and put your hands against stiles chest as you let your moans slip freely from your mouth you started grinding against stiles hand as he finally inserted his finger into you, you needed more already soaking stiles hand you begged Stiles for more "More, please Stiles" he added another finger, spreading you open, the hand on your ass helping you move faster against his hand. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. 
Stiles couldn't believe the sight above him, trying to implant your beauty into his brain forever as you threw your head back. "I'm gonna come- Stiles!" Your hips stuttered, but his hand on your ass helped you move through your orgasm. You collapsed on top of him. He slowly stroked your back, but Stiles wasn't done with you yet. He waited for your breathing to calm down before he spoke again. "I want to taste you." You felt another blush creep up on your cheeks. You weren't going to deny Stiles his wish and were going to move off him to lie down when he held you still. "Sit on my face," Stiles said as he pulled your hips upward. Your cheeks fired up as you started stuttering. "Whaat no, I can't, we can't," you tried to move off. "Baby, look at me. I know what you're thinking, and I promise you won't hurt me." Stiles insisted looking up at you. "N-no, what if I crush you?" you said quietly, not looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles smiled at you, and his hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. "You won't, and even if you did, it sounds like a great way to go out." You frowned and slapped him across the chest, earning you a laugh from Stiles. "Y/n, I mean it; you won't hurt me if it makes you feel better. How about I tap your thighs like this if I need you to move up?" He asked while tapping two of his fingers against your thigh three times. He looked up at you, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster. You knew you could never deny him when he looks like this, and with a sigh, you gave in "Ookay- but..."
"No more buts!" Stiles interrupted you. He lifted you up slightly as if you weighed nothing and helped you out of your panties before moving your body towards the headboard until you were hovering over his face. He caressed your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful. Stiles's hands moved up to your hips, which he grabbed tightly before pressing you down onto him, finally having your cunt on his face. He liked a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, moaning at the taste, which sent vibration right through your clit and a shock up your spine.
Stiles ate you out like a man starving, pulling you even closer and fully burying his head into your cunt. He rocked your body against his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the headboard with the other, rocking your body back and forth against Stiles's face, letting moans of his name echo through his room, which only fueled Stiles on more. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you ground down right into him. "Shit Stiles, s-sorry," you tried to lift yourself back up, but Stiles held you close, pressed up against his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, the eye contact sending shivers down your spine.
Stiles moaned against your clit making you throw your head back. One of his hands sneaked up your body and ghosted over your breast. Stiles has always wanted to touch them. When you put your hands over his to grab them harder, Stiles finally lost his last reserve and started rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Stiles, Stiles..." His name fell off your lips like a mantra as you came a second time that night, your legs clamping together around Stiles's head, trying to keep him there. He tried his best to lap up all your juices, and when the stimulation became too much, you lifted yourself up, much to Stiles's displeasure, as he would much rather have kept you there. You moved to the side, lying down next to Stiles.
You looked at him, his face glistening in your juice. "That was the best thing ever!" Stiles exclaimed with a smile on his face. You chuckled at his bright smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He leaned over to you, connecting your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You felt Stiles hard on press against your thigh. You moved your hand down his stomach and wrapped it around your shaft. You moved, so Stiles was in between your legs. "I want you inside me," you mumbled against Stiles's lips.
Stile's mind went haywire. He didn't expect to ever get so far with you, so he didn't have any condoms. You saw the worried look on his face as you watched his eyes scan the room. "I'm on birth control, Stiles," you reassured him as you ground your wet cunt against his hard cock. "Are you sure this is okay?" Stiles asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Yes, Stiles, I've never been more sure."
Stiles slowly pushed in, making sure not to hurt you. He knew you hadn't slept with anyone since losing your virginity over two years ago, so it stung a little when Stiles was fully inside you. He stayed still for a moment, just taking in your beautiful face and the feeling. "You're beautiful," Stiles said, smiling down at you. Stiles has called you beautiful before, but it had never made you feel the way it did now that you knew he felt the same way about you.
You moved your hips a little, signaling Stiles to move. "Stiles, move, ple-ase!" Stiles pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He immediately found the right spots that had you moaning under him, "fuck- fast- stiles faster!" You moaned in his ear. Stiles picked up the pace and felt your nails dig into his back. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder so he could reach even deeper. The new position made him hit your g-spot with every thrust and had you tightening incredibly around him. "Fuck Y/N, you're too tight." Stiles swore you were sent to earth just for him, as he filled you perfectly. He propped himself down on his elbow, pressing himself even closer to you. He reached one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. 
You were still incredibly sensitive from earlier and came almost instantly while he continued rubbing your clit in slow circles to help you back down from your high. Your thighs were shivering. Stiles pulled out of you and turned you around; he gently pushed you on your stomach. You slightly lifted your ass up towards him as well as your shaking legs could support you. Stiles trusted back inside you, but with the first thrust of his hips, your legs already gave out. You were gripping the sheets between your fingers as Stiles held you against him, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck y/n, I'm going cum," he said, his rhythm breaking. "In-inside... please stileees" you whined out for him. The thought of coming inside sent Stiles over the edge. He pressed his chest against your back as he slowly emptied himself inside you.
When he pulled out, you flopped back on the bed and said, "Don't move; wait here!" Stiles got off the bed and ran into the bathroom, you guessed. When he came back, he had a roll of toilet paper and a warm washcloth. He cleaned up between your legs the best he could before crawling back in bed with you. He pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way you curled into his side. You laid your head on your chest, listening to Stiles's heartbeat as he played with your hair. You heard Stiles say something but didn't register it, exhaustion finally catching up on you as you fell asleep.
At 6:30 a.m., just a few hours later, you were rudely awakened by Stiles's alarm. You debated for a second about just skipping class when Stiles and you heard his dad in the hallway. You both immediately sprang into action, getting your clothes back on, just as you had finished putting on your clothes and pulling your shirt down, the sheriff entered the room. He looked surprised, expecting to only find Stiles.
It's not like you have never slept over at Stiles place, but usually the sheriff knew. Judging by the way the sheriff looked at Stiles, he already knew what had happened between you two. "Just make sure you both make it to school in time, okay?" Was all he said, looking at Stiles, who nodded his head, hand scratching his neck. "We have to be quick; I need my stuff from home," you reminded Stiles after the sheriff left.
Stiles dropped you off at him with barely 10 minutes to spare, which definitely wasn't because you two took an extra long shower this morning. Your mother tried to approach you and question you about what happened and why you weren't at home, but you just brushed her off promising to fill her in later. You changed your clothes, grabbed your bag, and were back in Stiles's jeep in record time. You knew your grandma was watching again from the kitchen window, so you reached over and pulled Stiles into a kiss.
Stiles caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't pull back until you couldn't breathe. Just as you were about to lean in again, you saw your dad leave the house out of the corner of your eye. "Drive!" You turned to Stiles, who didn't need to be told twice as you both made your way to school. You couldn't help but laugh at the face your dad made while standing alone in the driveway.
At school, you and Stiles walked in holding hands, looking for your friend group. The first one you spotted was Lydia, who gave you a knowing smirk. "It looks like you're no longer on the list of oblivious idiots, Stiles," she said, making Stiles look confused.
743 notes · View notes
rewh0re · 2 years ago
Text
2:55 AM
Ft. Itoshi Sae
Got this idea and i just had to write it because why not. Anyways. Reblogs + feedbacks are highly appreciated!!
Tumblr media
It's late. It's way past midnight and you both should be sleeping instead of sitting on the sofa with your heads in your hands trying to figure out how to get out of the problem at hand. You tried your best to sleep but the persistent buzzing of your phone due to the incoming notifications left you sleepless.
"I thought we were careful enough," you took your phone in your hand, opening Instagram only to be spammed by notifications that said you were tagged in several photos and comments by random accounts. There were also thousands of follow requests from said accounts.
"We were careful. They just get their way every single time," Sae had talked to his manager a few hours ago about how a picture of the both of you had taken the internet by storm.
You were out for a date with Sae after his recent victory. The picture was taken after the date when Sae had kissed you under the street light beside an empty park or at least what you thought was an empty park. When you first saw the picture trending, the fans did not yet know who you were, you were still an unknown person who seemed to be Sae's significant other. Within a few hours however, they had found out your name and your account and since then you were on the receiving side of several hate comments and a few supportive ones.
'Sae can do better.'
'They aren't all that.'
'ugh Sae, leave them and date me.'
And other such comments were plaguing the picture. You got several such DMs too that honestly made you feel a bit down and you weren't feeling your best after seeing these.
But along with these there were also a few supportive comments that asked the people to leave you both alone and show you some respect and that it was Sae's choice who he dated and if he was happy it was enough. These comments made you smile. People could be bitter as well as sweet, you concluded.
"What's wrong with the people commenting all of this bullshit? Don't they have anything better to do in life?" Sae's eyes narrowed as he scanned through the various comments and captions.
"This was bound to be the result once our relationship was made public. I'm not complaining, some people can be weird about their idols getting into a relationship," you sighed as you silenced your phone and kept it on the coffee table. This was definitely not good for your mental health as you already thought about Sae finding someone better, probably some pretty fan of his. These thoughts plagued you at night.
"Don't you dare think about me leaving you or something. Don't you let these petty jobless people make you think that you're anything less than perfect for me," Sae held your hand as he seemed to catch on your troubling thoughts. He somehow always knew what was going on with you. Somehow he could read you like an open book. His eyes told you how much he loved you and how important your presence was in his life.
"I'll try Sae. That's the only thing I can do right now. Anyways, these will die down with time. We should sleep now. It's late," you kissed his cheek as you got up from the sofa and headed towards your bedroom.
You stopped midway through, as you noticed your boyfriend was not following you. Instead, he was still on the sofa and it looked like he was deep in his thoughts.
"Aren't you coming? Let them be, as I said it'll die down--"
"I'm gonna make it public first thing in the morning," he turned around to look at you, a serious look in his eyes.
"Sae..people already know, there's no need to--"
"No no, I'm gonna confirm it in the morning. It's been long enough. I'm not doing this for the media either, I'm doing this because I cannot keep loving you in private any longer. I'm tired of always being so on guard with you when we go out," he interrupted you yet again as he closed the distance between you both, now standing in front of you with your face in his hands.
"Sae.." you started but you honestly did not know what to say.
"Are you okay with that?" He looked deep into your eyes as if he was searching for your answer in them.
"Okay," you let out a little laughter as you pecked his lips and broke away from him. "But for now, please, please come to bed."
And true to his words, the next morning you were tagged on Sae's official Instagram post which was a picture of you kissing his cheek as a small, barely there smile was plastered on Sae's face. You smiled a little at the post, not caring about the incessant buzzing of your phone.
'I love you a bit too much' read the caption.
Tumblr media
772 notes · View notes
russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
Text
Spiders should be pink (Mick Schumacher)
Mick is more than happy to answer all of Mila's questions
Note: english is not my first language. this is a long piece that I hope will get the interactions back up (I love getting your requests and overall having you interact with the posts and having some random thoughts shared too!), so I hope you enjoy this piece that was mainly inspired by conversations I've had with my four year old cousin lately.
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
Tw: mentions spiders
my masterlist
"It should be okay, but I'll talk to him just to be sure. And if for some reason there isn't a way, I can go to yours for the weekend", you said over the phone before bidding goodbye and ending the call.
Your cousin was going on a work trip with her husband, since they worked for the same company, and since your aunt and uncle were also our of town, she wanted to know if you were available to look after their daughter Mila for an overnight stay. It was all fine by you since you had the weekend free, but you still had to check in with your boyfriend since it was the place you shared with him and if he didn't mind having Mila, your four year second cousin.
"Mick", you called after looking inside the home gym and entering, seeing he was already stretching on the mat, "Liebling", he replied back, signalling you had his attention even though he was not looking at you, "my cousin needs me to watch Mila for the weekend, and I was wondering if it was okay if the came to stay with us", you began, "I can go and stay at their place, too. They leave on a saturday morning and come back by the end of Sunday", you explained.
Getting up and grabbing his towell, your sweaty boyfriend made his way to you, "of course she can come over and spend the weekend here. You think she'll be okay with it being a new space for her? For me it's fine, I have no problem having little Mila over", he smiled sweetly, "I think she'll be fine, I'll probably just need to keep some things away from her hands, and maybe check if there are any sharp corners that she can easily knock into", you mused, thinking about the way the furniture sat when you felt Mick's hands on your waist, "can we do that after we go for a shower?", he said, nipping on your neck before looking up at you for confirmation to go further, tapping your butt so you could jump and circle his waist with your legs, "I would like that very much, my love", you said, latching to him despite the sweaty clothes and letting him take you to the bathroom.
.
You and Mick wake up a little bit earlier than usual, just wanting to check if everything was fine and safe to have Mila over for her overnight say before you made breakfast for you and Mick while you waited for them to drop her off, "she must be so grown up, I remember the photos you showed me of her when she was little, and when we went to her birthday, was it last year? I think so, I remember the number three balloons", Mick mused, "she is, and she's very curious and witty too!".
"That must be them", you said getting up once you heard the bell ring, Mick following you as you headed to the door to meet them, "Hello, Mila! How are you, bug?", you asked once the little girl started running to you, arms open so you took the hint to catch her, "I'm good! Am I really going to spend some time with you?", she said before she noticed Mick, "hello", she waved her little hand, earning a wave back from your boyfriend when he was done greeting your cousin and her husband, "I remember you, you're Y/N's boyfriend!", she said excitedly, waving at him a lot more confidently now.
After sorting a few things with your cousin, she bid her parents goodbye with a small tear in her eye, not wanting you to see her sadness from being away from her parents.
"Mila, do you want to go see our dog?", Mick asked, thinking that maybe a distraction would do her some good. "You have a dog too?", she asked, looking up at Mick, "yes, have you not met Angie before?", your boyfriend replied, earning a shake from her head, figuring that all of the times you had been with her was either with your family or whenever the Australian Shepherd travelled with him. "Well, you can meet Angie now, she's probably asleep in the living room", you noted, guiding her by placing a hand on her back and heading to the room, seeing Angie indeed laid down by the sofa, ears alert at a new person in the house, "Angie, we want you to meet Mila", Mick, who was right behind you, said, going up to the dog just in case she had a different reaction than expected, being met instead with a happy Angie, looking at Mila and sniffing her hand.
"I have a dog, too. But he's not like her", Mila began, "he's really tall and white with some black spots!", she said, stretching her arms in hopes of showing you and Mick how big her dog really was, "and he's not fluffy like you, Angie, you're like a pillow!", she finished excitedly, stroking Angie's fur. "Do you have a dalmatian?", Mick asked, crouching down so he was at her eye level, "I don't know how he's called, I call him Alfred. But he's not like those on TV, you know the movie with many of them? Alfred has a spot here, here and here only, it's not all over him", she said, nor growing more comfortable with Mick as she pointed to a few spots on his arms and legs, smiling up at him to see him smiling at ther already.
You showed Mila the house, so she would feel more at ease at to know where everything was, Angie trailing right behind her, "Why do you have white hair?", Mila turned around to look at Mick, stunning you both with the question, "because my hair is very light like that", your boyfriend tried to explain to the best of his ability, "and can't you have brown hair like Y/N? Or a little yellow like me?", she pulled a curl from her head, the hair bouncing right back to its place once she let go of it, "but you look a lot like my grandpa, and he is cute too!", she said before looking at you, "I need to pee", Mila announced, "there is a bathroom right here", you opened the door, "do you need my help?", you asked, "I'm a big girl, I don't need it".
Opening and then closing the door for her, you waited for the little girl outside just in case she needed something from you, "she called you an old man", you chuckled at Mick before he giggled too, "what was I supposed to say to her? But at least I'm a cute old man to her", he nudged you, "that you certainly are, a very cute and handsome man", you smiled before kissing his lips, just in time to hear the little girl call for you, "Mick! Y/N! I'm too little to reach the sink to wash my hands!", she said, making you open the door, "can I climb on Angie to reach the sink?", she smiled hopefully at you, accepting her fate when you picked her up so she would be in line with the tap.
Deciding to go outside after a great lunch of pasta and tomato sauce, Mila's eyes sparkled when she saw a swing on the garden, "can we go on there, please?", she asked you both, kicking her legs so she could make her way to the swings, needing you to hold it still so she could climb, "hold your hands here for safety, okay?", you said before you started pushing her, Mick sitting in the bench that was near, noticing a spiderweb on the wooden part, grabbing a leaf to lead the spider to safety, "thank you, Mick, I don't like spiders", Mila said, "you're scared of them?", you asked while you pushed her swing, helping her go back and forth, "yes, they're brown and black and ew", she squirmed, making you two laugh, "would you like them another colour? Why aren't spiders pink?"
"I like purple too", she said, pointing to her swimsuit under her dress that she insisted on putting on right after lunch, "and blue too! Like your eyes? Why are they blue?", she questioned as she left the swing and moved to climb up the slide, going down on it and standing on its end so she could be a bit closer to Mick's face and inspect his eyes, "because my mom and my dad have blue eyes so I also have blue eyes", he said, "And my mama has blue eyes and my papa has brown eyes, so I have brown eyes, that fits", she mused, changing to another topic.
.
It was approaching evening time, and you were still all outside after a afternoon spent swimming, "Can I go on the pool now?", Mila asked and you looked at her, "you might get to cold going fully in", you reasoned with her, "how about I just wet my feet then?", she asked, tempting you to say yes to her, eventually nodding your head, "okay, let's go then", you said, getting up and holding her hand, "Mick, c'mon, I want you to come with us, too!", she urged, using her other hand to call him over to the wide tiled steps of the pool to join you two.
Sitting on the edge, the three of you had your feet in the water and Mila was behaving surprisingly well until she found out she was able to walk along the stairs, going between you and Mick, "I know what you're trying to do, missy", you tickled her once she sat down, cheeks pink as you called her out, "and what was I going to do?", she replied, "you're trying to get your legs wet above your knee, then your thigh and before we know it, you're going to be inside", you said, her smile faltering as she understood you had actually read her plan.
Moving next to Mick, she went to whisper in his ear, "how did she know I wanted to do that?", making your boyfriend giggle, "Y/N's really smart, you know?", he reasoned with her, making them both look at you, "I think it's time we head inside to go for a bath, hm?", you tried, Mick taking advantage of the fact that she was sitting in his lap, holding her as he got up so you could leave, heading inside for a bath to wash the day off while your boyfriend got dinner started.
"Mick! Me and Y/N had a bath with bubbles!", Mila said after she got down the last step of the stairs, announcing it to him as he checked the oven, "Oh, did you now? You smell really nice!", he complimented, "it's my princess bubbles, mama got them for me!", she pointed to you, "she smells like it too!", she smiled. Mick saw you walk down the stairs too, towells in hand so you could put them in the laundry room, "you smell like princesses too, liebling?", he asked, "Oh, like the most beautiful princesses, that's for sure", you chuckled, amused at their conversation, "you can be a princess too, Y/N, you're pretty like them", she reasoned, hugging your legs, "thank you, little one, you're very pretty too. I bet Belle is jealous of you", you smiled, combing her freshly washed curls with your fingers, "if you want to go have a shower now, I'll look after her and dinner, too", you said, noticing Mila running towards the living room and hearing her call for your dog.
"The food is in the oven, it should take a while", he said, kissing your forehead and making his way upstairs, "MICK! You can use my princess bubbles if you want to!", Mila yelled, making Mick chuckle at the little girl's energy, never faltering even after a full day of playing and swimming.
"Y/N, do you want to make bracelets with me?", she said, bringing out a kit with colourful beads and threads, "sure! Come here to the table so we can organise them here", you said, allowing her to sit on top of your crisscrossed legs while you measured and placed all the beads in the bracelet like you wanted.
"Do you like to share a house with Mick?", Mila asked you, "yes, I do. Why do you ask?", you questioned, wanting to know where her curiosity came from, "Well, bec- Mick! You're back! Do you like sharing a house with Y/N?", she asked him as soon as she saw him join you again in the living room. Mick sat next to you, "I do, yes", he said sweetly, "why?", Mila asked him like she had asked you, "because I like to spend time with her, because I can make things for her when she doesn't have the time, -", he began, "like when she doesn't know where her shoes are and you give her them? Or when she needs someone to get her cough syrup?", she reasoned, probable thinking about how her parents, the people she shares a house with, are with her, "yes, all of those things", Mick chuckled, grabbing a thread so he could too make some bracelets, "There, now you, me and Y/N have matching bracelets!", Mila announced, placing a bracelet in your wrist and one in Mick's, "you both have a heart, look! Because you live together!".
After dinner, while Mick offered to tidy the rest of the kitchen while you went up to change into pyjamas, "Mick, Mick, Mick!", Mila yelled as she ran to the living room, "Look!", she pointed to herself once she was in front of him, "my pyjamas have Minnie and Mickey on them!", she said, pointing to you once you reached them, sitting next to your boyfriend, "you can be Mickey, because your name is the same, and Y/N can be Minnie!", she said before she climbed up the sofa, sitting on your lap while she looked at the TV, "we're going to see a movie?", she asked, recognising the frames on the TV, "yes. Do you like any of these?", Mick asked her a he flipped through them.
You ended up watching the 101 Dalmatians, Mila claiming it was for Angie to get to know her friend Alfred until they could meet in real life, the little girl falling asleep holding onto you like a little koala, arms around your torso with her head snuggled on your chest, "the day tired her out, hm?", Mick said in a low voice.
Chuckling, you combed her curly hair before doing the same to your boyfriend's hair, "it did, and you? She didn't take up all your batteries with her insane questions?", you smiled, forever grateful of having him in your life, and especially to see your family get along nicely with him. "She's fine with that. It's so cool to see her be curious about everything, and she's a really sweet girl too", your boyfriend said.
327 notes · View notes
red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months ago
Text
Shoto's First Kiss Timeline? Idk let's plot it out together
Tumblr media
Gif Caption: Me and Shoto sitting together on the train, vibing. 💕
Hi All!!
If you're a fan of the Shoto's First Kiss series, Chapter 5 dropped at like 3:30 am EST this morning because I am an absolute HEATHEN and decided to have a late night/early morning editing session for 3 hours before posting. This was fun because I decided to add the whole Lisa Frank phone background scene for kicks and add a little more build up to the smut scene (I love a slowish burn...what can I say!?).
@brie-is-cheesy had some great questions in the comments of Chapter 5, I'm going to post it below and answer the best I can! I don't have a full answer to everything and I'm taking some ✨creative liberties ✨ here and there but lets see if I can clear some things up for my lovely readers!
Hiiiii, totally loved it; I was wondering when this is set? Like the timeline, I just got confused I'll leave the list of confusing things about the timeline,, I wrote about how much I love this in my reblog cuz this is awesome!! -since bnha is set in the mid to late 2100s I was wondering if the older songs they're listening to will include songs that are relatively new for us as of now? -when does this occur? Like you mentioned they're in their first year, and its after they've moved into the dorms but it's nearing the summer of next year, so is it after the war arc, or after the events of bnha entirely? Just wanted to ask! Thank you for the update!!<3 - brie-is-cheesy
Okay these are FAB questions and honestly I can't give you a straight answer to all of them!
Here's the background: So this story started out as a one shot - this past year, Shoto hasn't been one of my main MHA favorites. When I started the Red Riot Unbreakable Heart blog, my goal was to focus on what I've been calling "My Big Three." This includes Kirishima (lol thus my username), Hakws, and Hitoshi Shinsou (I love me an emo man). I was sprinkling in smutty one shots here and there involving other characters (ex. BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala and Beneath the Bookshelves | BakuDeku ). Shoto was one of those random one offs that I was like, huh why not!? But then I published Shoto's First Kiss (Part One) this one shot about Reader x Shoto totally took off in a way I wasn't expecting. Shoto resonates a lot with you all and the more I started writing for him, the more I grew to love him. He's so complex and in need of love and care. He has so much capacity for love!! I wanted to explore that more and figure out how he would act in his first encounters with intimacy and relationships. So I kept posting chapters, and started plotting out this wild story!
Timeline: When I started writing the one shot, I wanted the story to ambiguously take place in the 2nd or 3rd year when the characters were a little older. I was kind of working it in an AU where the war had vaguely happened and was over but everyone is okay and no one was injured/died/had their quirk impacted by AFO. In the context of Shoto's First Kiss chapter one - the war doesn't matter (at least if you re-read it I hope you don't find any plot holes mentioning the war!?). Also I have tried to say "Class A" instead of "Class 1A" because as I wrote more chapters, I still hadn't figured out what year we are in here.
Now that we're world building and have a more fleshed out story, here's what I'm thinking. Bare with me, we are going to need to suspend some disbelief here and I might need to go back and make some tweaks to previous chapters to keep everything in line with this line of thinking. But let's say this:
Timeline: The timeline takes place in the character's 1st year. I just combed through this timeline of MHA that someone put together on Reddit. I'm thinking this likely takes place at the end of Term 1. Final exams are coming up, and the students have heard a little about the training camp. Most of the MHA events so far are probably cannon in my fic universe, unless otherwise mentioned. The great thing for me is - most of MHA is in the context of Izuku's experiences, so there's a lot of wiggle room in the timeline for what could be happening between Shoto x The Reader. I haven't decided if the current chapters take place before or after Shoto/Izuku/Ida's encounter with Stain, because I can see some interesting plot points coming from that. I'll think about it!! This may change, but for purposes of continuity I think this could work as I move forward with my plotting!
Age: All the characters are at least 16. Let's just roll with that and take some creative liberties here. I'm aging everyone up.
The Dorms: In this fic universe, I pictured the students moving into the dorms at the start of the year. Like the dorms are just part of the normal UA experience - for all intents and purposes it's a boarding school.
The Songs: Okay this is a really interesting idea! I am literally just putting in playlists of music I like right now, I didn't think much about modern music flowing into the story. Lol would Honenuki listen to BRAT!? Maybe. I love him and think of him as a sweet chill cinnamon roll of a dude, though. I think he would be scandalized by Guess Featuring Billie Eilish. Or maybe he'd love it. He'd def love Chappell Roan, though. Dude is a sloot for Red Wine Super Nova and I just know it!
The Vibe: @ all of my beloved readers - I realize that this story means a lot to people, and I love that!! Even though we explore complex and serious subject matter at times, this is still a goofy silly story that I write for fun! Please don't hold me to these ideas that I'm throwing out in a semi-public brainstorm. I am but a simple fanfic writer who churns out most of the Shoto pages at midnight after I work two jobs. Shoto's First Kiss is a project that I write purely for fun and to build community with other adult MHA fans. I'm not like going to publish this as a book or put it on Patr*on behind a paywall or something. So let's keep it light! That being said, I love interacting with everyone so if there are fun questions that you think would be interesting for me to answer in this story, let me know! I'm very open to hearing thoughts and considering new ideas here :)
Okay okay SORRY FOR SO MUCH INFO! Thanks again @brie-is-cheesy for being so thoughtful in your reading and for asking these great questions! This is def going to help me guide the next few chapters of the story as I plot things out and as we get a satisfying next chapter in The Party arc. I'm going to post this reply on my Master List so we can all keep track of it and come back to it easily if needed.
As always, thanks for reading!! Sending good vibes to all ☺️
XOXO,
Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️
Shoto's First Kiss Series:
Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2
Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3
Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4
Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5
My Master List
Red's Recos: If you're looking for more fun smutty stories from my writing desk, I'll share 3 of my all time favorites from my Master List. These are all fairly long and have a lot of sexual tension/build up with some satisfying smut scenes:
How to Suck Your Best Friend’s D*ck 🍆💋
BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala
A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima
28 notes · View notes
anakin-pilled · 10 months ago
Text
𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part three)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 9.4k
warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of EDs, body dysmorphia/body issues, fainting, mistreatment, hospitalization, crying, reader being emotional, anakin being a reckless driver, half proofread bc i got lazy (will probably edit another day, its late af as im posting this)
rating: 18+
author's note: hi, i'm so sorry for the delay on chapter three! life got really busy and i found myself not having enough time to write, but now life has settled and i finally had enough time and inspo to finish this chapter. i literally forced myself to stay home this weekend and finish this chapter bc i'll be traveling this week and won't have time to write. i hope i made up for it by making this chapter longer than usual!! let me know if u have any questions or comments. reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx
creds to saradika for the divider!
Tumblr media
You originally had no plans this weekend, but after much persuasion from one of your closest friends, you decided to attend some party that a friend of a friend was hosting. It was better than being locked up in your apartment all weekend, letting the thoughts of Anakin consume your mind and slowly pick away at your sanity. After all, it gave you the chance to dress up prettily, consume free hooch, and maybe find someone to get under and help you get over Anakin. 
The water in your porcelain sonic tub was doused in a fragrant Crimson Jelly Spire oil and mixed with the fragile petals of a Jasmine flower. The combination of spice and sweetness left your skin refreshed and smelling good. The midday light of Corscant filtered through the windows and cast the nearly all-ivory refresher in an ethereal lighting. The water swished around you as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid the side of your cheek on top of them. You trained your eyes on the refresher’s ceilings before blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. You ran this bath about an hour ago, but you had yet to get up because your mind was occupied by him. Staying away from Anakin was harder than you anticipated. Your mind recalled, for about the hundredth time today, two instances that happened over the last few rotations.
Tumblr media
The first instance with Anakin left you unnerved and unconfident in your self-proclamation to stay away from him. 
The benefit concert was only a few rotations away now, so you started practicing. Even though you were only performing songs that you already performed and rehearsed before, it still didn’t hurt to practice even more. This was going to be broadcast across the Republic, so you had to be perfect. 
You holed yourself up in your practice room for the majority of the day. The only time you saw Anakin was in the morning when your protocol droid prepared breakfast. You told Anakin that you would be practicing with your team of dancers for the day, so there was no need for him to stay with you all day. You encouraged him to take the day off and reassured him that your practice suite was located in a safe building with 24/7 security watch. Anakin insisted that he at least drop you off. He could take the time to stop by the Temple and check in on Ahsoka’s training.
That was hours ago. It was nearing your twelfth hour of continuous practice and you were exhausted, to say the least. Your vocal cords felt raw from the amount of singing you did today, and the legs in your muscles were spasming from the constant repetition of your dancing. You dismissed your team members around two hours ago, you didn’t think they should be subjected to your perfectionist tendencies. One of them, a Pantoran girl named Chione, voiced her concern for you. Chione was one of your oldest dancers, she joined your team during your first mini-tour around a few Core planets and has never left your team since. You considered her one of your closest friends.
“Are you positive that you’re okay to practice on your own? You’ve barely had any food today. I don’t want you fainting with no one to help,” voiced Chione in a dulcet tone. She was always looking out for your well-being, especially because she knew how hard you could be on yourself. Chione was a source of bright life in your life and one of the most genuine people you’ve ever known.
“I’ll be fine, Chione. I had a heavy breakfast, and I’ve made sure to eat energy pudding bars and stay hydrated during our breaks,” you reassured your friend. She looked unconvinced, but you rushed her out of the room with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to send her a message once you arrived home.
Now that you had the studio to yourself, you decided to go through a few more drills and focus on the routines that you struggled with the most. You weren’t always a perfectionist. Back when you lived on Bar’leth, you were neither the smartest student in your grade nor the dumbest student–you were perfectly average. You didn’t feel the need to engage in your classmates’ cutthroat competition or push yourself more than you required. Even when it came to your musical prowess, you sang and studied instruments because you enjoyed it and it brought you happiness. If you were stuck on learning a certain composition or hitting the right note, you would always put in your best effort, but you never lost any sleep over it. You knew that if you were to put pressure on yourself, it would take the enjoyment away. Music was yours, without any strings, expectations, or attachments to soil your relationship with it.
That swiftly changed once you were signed a record deal with one of Coruscant’s most famous record labels, Interstellar Records. You didn’t even know it was possible to become famous at the intergalactic level. Most of the artists you listened to on Bar’leth were artists from your planet. The galaxy’s population is enormous–Coruscant alone has around three trillion people! You never imagined that your name would known anywhere besides Bar’leth. Yet, luck seemed to be on your side on that one fateful day.
The story of how you were discovered is quite simple. Your school hosted an annual festival for the anniversary of the formation of Bar’leth’s government. It’s a joyous holiday where students are encouraged to promote Bar’leth’s culture through food, traditional customs, and performances. Families and regular citizens flock to the school to join and watch the students at the festival. It’s a day you look forward to every year. Each class section is assigned to a particular event. The graduating class of that year is always assigned to open the festival with a choir rendition of Bar’leth’s national anthem. You were asked to lead the choir since the music instructor knew of your talent, which meant that you would be the main singer. Little did you know that one of the executives from Interstellar Records was at the school festival. One of his nephews attended your school, so that was his reason for being there. As soon as you got off the stage and the festivities started, you were immediately pulled to the side by your school’s headmaster who introduced you to the executive. He spoke to you about your talent, and how he believed that you could make something of yourself with proper training and a recording label to manage you.
That was five years ago, and a lot has changed since then. After finishing your last year of government-mandated education, you moved to Coruscant and began your career as a professional artist. Life suddenly flipped. Your upbringing on Bar’leth was humble. You came from a decent, middle-class family and lived in a standard home. Suddenly, you lived in a fancy Coruscant apartment with the former senator Sheev Palpatine, and you were always surrounded by a team of managers who dictated your schedule from morning to night. You were given vocal training, attended dance classes, and sat through etiquette and media training courses all while trying to produce your debut record. The first year of your career was marked by sleepless nights due to the sheer amount of activities on your daily agenda. Many times throughout the first year, you debated if this was a smart decision.
You continuously pushed yourself through it because dreams weren’t achieved by themselves. You had to work to make your dreams come true. This was just part of the process. At least that’s what you said to reason with your inner self to avoid any feelings of regret and anxiety. Yet, throughout that first year, you were also exposed to a darker side of the industry that you weren’t equipped to handle as a barely legal adult. When you signed that contract with the label, you also signed away any right to individuality and personal autonomy. 
You had a certain image to uphold as a public figure and this image was controlled entirely by your label. You were like clay that they could bend at their will–constantly being prodded and 
molded until you were nothing short of perfection. Your clothes were preselected each day, hair was only done in styles the label wanted, and pre-answered scripts were given for interviews. Worst of all, even your diet was dictated by the label. How much you ate, what you ate, and even when you ate was all at the discretion of the executives. They even went so far as to weigh you weekly to make sure you were staying on top of your weight. If you weren’t at their goal weight, they subjected you to intense periods of exercise. It was an abusive cycle that fundamentally altered your self-esteem. Slowly, you became a shell of the person you once were. You didn’t find enjoyment in your career anymore, something you were once so passionate and excited about. The harsh regime of your management extinguished that flame. All that mattered to you was if you were meeting your label’s expectations. You were consumed by the weight of their expectations. You drowned under their judgment, and each criticism was like a blaster shot straight to your heart. The executives weren’t satisfied no matter what you did. Practice hours went from a few hours of your day to half of your day. You slowly cut contact with your friends from home and lied to your family when they asked how you were doing. You couldn’t bear to tell them the truth. You were miserable.
Eventually, the constant overwork and abuse by the label became too much for your body to handle and one day you fainted in the middle of practice. The medic at the medcenter informed you that your body shut due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Due to you being one year away from being a legal adult by the Republic’s standards, the medic was forced to report this incident to the authorities. Holonet tabloids somehow got a hold of this information and leaked it on their celebrity gossip pages. This prompted an investigation from the Intergalactic Federation of Musicians, the trade guild dedicated to musicians, performers, and songwriters, who determined that your label was not properly upholding their side of the contract. The IFM fined Interstellar Records and voided your contract, which left you free and away from their abuse.
It took you a few months to recover from the whole incident. The best course of action was to move back to Bar’leth while you healed. Your career didn’t stop there, however. Right before the situation, your debut album was released. Hence, you were practicing for upcoming promotions the label scheduled you for. The release of your debut album was quiet–until your face ended up on the Holonet’s hot spot after the initial news broke. The people of Coruscant, and even some people from neighboring planets, pitied you. You never intended for anything to be this way, but the story that the tabloids ran against you worked in your favor. You, a young fresh-faced, and doe-eyed girl from a smaller Core planet, were a victim of the cruel entertainment industry. Everyone blamed the label, rightfully so, but the amount of support and influx of love from Coruscant’s citizens catapulted you into fame and stardom. The public wanted to see you win (until they didn’t). Other recording labels were knocking at your door, trying to get you to sign with their company You were hesitant, not wanting to experience the same trauma. Senator Palpatine offered his help in negotiating the contract bids as an apology for not noticing what you were going through before. After all, you were still living with him while you were still signed to Interstellar. You didn’t blame him as you hid your problems well. Regardless, it all worked out in the end as you were signed to a new label, under terms and conditions you saw fit.  Four years have passed since you signed onto Nebula Music Group. Your fame instantaneously increased after signing with them. Gido was assigned your new manager, and you were extremely thankful for him because he played a major role in ensuring you were properly treated and supported by the label. Nebula Music Group had more trust and faith in you than Interstellar, so they allowed you more authority and creative liberties in the music-making process. Because of this, you could produce authentic, critically acclaimed, popular albums. Your last album, Last Words of a Shooting Star, broke a record with the highest sales of sound slugs in history for a female artist. You did mini tours around the inner and mid-Core planets. Despite your initial hardships, life was turning out better than you envisioned. You had a second chance at your dream. You liked to consider yourself fully healed from the situation, but that was far from the truth.
Take now for example.
In moments like this, when it’s only yourself and the mirror, your mind can’t help but flashback to the horrible treatment you suffered at the hands of those people. You know that no matter how much therapy or how far removed from the situation you were, a part of you was still stuck in the past. 
Chione was right to be concerned. This wasn’t the first time you stayed behind and continued practicing on your own, often to the point of exhaustion and breaking down. She’s caught you in these moments before, where you were so focused on perfection that you failed to take care of yourself properly—staying dehydrated, skipping meals, and not sleeping just so you could devote more time to practice. You would gladly damage yourself for it. You couldn’t help it. Insecurity was embedded in your bones. You knew that as a young female in the industry, you had a short shelf life (or at least that’s what your previous label hammered into your brain). Once the industry deemed you expired, you would be nothing. Thus, you needed to be so perfect, that even past your expiration date, people would still want you.  You were nothing without desirability.
You looked at yourself with hard eyes in the mirror. Your eyes landed on the deep, heavy-set eye bags under your eyes. A scowl appeared on your face. You then moved your eyes to your arms, which never seemed skinny enough for you. A knot formed in your throat. Lastly, you laid your eyes upon your stomach. No matter how many meals you skipped, what diet fads you went on, or what food you prematurely threw away to avoid finishing, your stomach never looked the way you wanted. A sigh escaped your throat.
It was futile to worry about these things now. At a time so late in the day, nothing good would come of it. You inhaled and exhaled breathing as if you were absorbing and releasing all of your previous negative energy. Putting on a fake smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gave yourself one last look before continuing to practice.
The song you were currently dancing to belonged to the glimmick genre–a genre of music that was associated with frenzied sounds and rapid beats. As an artist, you were most comfortable with the sparkle-bop and pop genres. That was your domain, and it was the genre that made you famous. However, you wanted you wanted to experiment on your recent album to get out of your artistic comfort zone and reach a wider audience, so you included songs of different genres, with glimmick being one of them. Due to the nature of the glimmick genre, your song “Atom of the Pneuma,” required an intricate, fast-paced dance with movements that you were not familiar with. The choreography for this dance was sharp and pristine, contorting and bending your body to resemble straight, angular lines. Most of your choreography featured lighter dance moves, with flowy movement and softer forms. It was the reason you stayed later than the rest of your team–you wanted to hone on this particular routine before the benefit concert.
Your legs were bent, hands placed on top of your thighs as you caught your breath and prepared to replay the song just a few more times before calling ending the day. You got into position. The song started and filled the room with a pounding, rich techno bass that bounced off the walls. You began to move your body to the beat while your right arm was simultaneously moving it to create a pattern that extended from your body outward. Your head followed the beat as well, which left you slightly dizzy. You learned to block out any negative sensations when dancing, a practice you learned from the days when you danced on little sleep and little food. The unpleasant sensation went ignored until you spun your body around and lost your balance resulting in an unceremonious fall toward the hard wooden floor. You placed your arms to cushion your fall out of reflex, but the fall never came. A pair of large, calloused hands were placed on your waist, holding you steady. The hands gently guided you toward the floor, forcing you to sit. 
You raised your face toward the ceiling, trying to see who it was that miraculously saved you from your fall. The bright lights of the practice room invaded your eyesight and you could only make out the fuzzy outline of the person. Tiny, black dots swirled your vision as you tried to regain your composure. The feeling was overwhelming. You could feel your breath quicken as you tried to calm yourself. This wasn’t the first time you have fainted from overdoing it, but it was never any easier each time. You hated the feeling, you hated the coldness that washed over your body, you hated how your vision failed you, and you hated the dull panging inside your head. 
You shut your eyes, barely focusing on the person next to you. Your nails dug into your palm, the pain distracting you from the uncomfortable feeling and forcing you back into the present. After a few more moments, you opened your eyes again and turned your vision to the only other figure in the room. You could feel the warmth of their body next to yours–the warmth overpowering the previous coldness your body felt. 
“Anakin,” you whispered. 
“You okay there, pop star?” Anakin softly replied. “You almost took a nasty fall, you could have sprained your wrist or hurt your head. We wouldn’t want that before the big day, now would we?”
His brown curls gently caressed his face as he looked down at you. He was kneeling over you, eyes scanning over your body to make sure you were okay. You didn’t even hear him enter. How did he get inside? Access to this room was only allowed by people with logged fingerprints and/or other DNA indicators.
“Just give me a minute please.” You still felt lightheaded.
Anakin stood up and walked toward your practice bag and grabbed the container of water that was sitting next to it. He then proceeded toward you, sat next to you, and put the tip of the container to your lips. You titled your head back as you drank. After a couple of gulps, you answered Anakin’s question. 
“I apologize if I frightened you. I must have overdone it and got lightheaded because of it. I assure you that I feel better now and can continue my practice,” You tried to stand up before Anakin’s hand caught your wrist and dragged you back toward the ground. Your response was cold and robotic. That’s because you were in a different mode right now, your more “professional” mode which consisted of one thing only–to never give up until you were blue in the fact. It was ingrained in you from your past training that even if you felt like complete bantha shit, you couldn’t stop practicing just because you felt slightly off. Perfection could never be achieved if you stopped every single time you felt bad.
“Just take a moment to relax. You nearly fainted. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you continue to practice in this state,” Anakin reasoned. He pitied you because he knew the exact look of determination on your face. 
“I can’t stop. The benefit is only a few rotations from now. I have to get this routine down, or else I’ll look like a fool on stage,” you argued back. You turned, but Anakin kept a firm hold on your wrist. 
“Stop being stubborn and just take a quick break.” The seriousness in Anakin’s tone made you want to cry. His voice projected across the now silent practice room. You were already feeling bad from almost fainting and now you were being emotional too. You slipped to the ground and hung your head low as tears welled up in your eyes.
“I-I’m sorry,” your voice wavered. Putting in this state always puts you in a weird headspace. You swallowed the tight knot that formed in your throat. You didn’t want to cry in front of Anakin.
Anakin noticed the waver of your voice and how you refused to meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so harsh, but he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either. 
“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean for my voice to sound that way,” Anakin hesitated before putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. He felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know you very well yet, so he didn’t want to invade your personal space, but he recognized that you needed some comfort.
“You should leave. You don’t have to deal with me. I know the Chancellor asked you to watch over me, but this is too much. I promise I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” You don’t know why you let that small detail split to Anakin. Perhaps you just wanted someone else to know that you weren’t fully healed from your past. You tried to do your best to hide it from the rest of your team, only Chione being the most knowledgeable on the subject. 
“I’m not going to leave you. It’s late and you should be heading back to your apartment. I came to pick you up. Gido said you hadn’t arrived home yet and that I could find you here.”
You sighed at Anakin’s response. There were a few moments of silence before you began speaking again. “I’m sorry. You’re just being a decent person, and I’m here trying to push you away. I don’t mean it.” You took a deep breath, “I just get in a weird headspace whenever I’m practicing sometimes.”
Anakin didn’t want to pry, but he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind your words. 
You started speaking before your brain could even comprehend what you were saying. You were desperate to let out all of your negative feelings. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough sometimes? Like the whole world is waiting for you to trip and fall?” You glanced at Anakin with glassy eyes.
You continued to tirade. “I know my life may look glamorous, and it is. But no one ever talks about the dark side of being in the public eye, especially as a female. They treat you as if you’re some spectacle for their entertainment as if you’re not a living being with consciousness and feelings. Even those who are supposed to be there for you end up on the same side as the critics and haters.” Your chest was now heaving up and down as a result of your heightened emotion. “Even when I work my ass off to be perfect, so I can meet their standards and so they can finally shut the kriff up, they find another thing to comment on just to tear me down.”
“Yes, I understand the feeling.” And Anakin truly did understand. Anakin wanted to comfort you, he felt empathetic as he watched you cry. Do you remember how I told you how I joined the Jedi at a later age than most?” You nodded as you sniffled. “The Jedi council didn’t want to take me in at first…but Qui-Gon convinced them to take me in because he saw potential in me, potential as the Chosen one. Master Qui-Gon died before he had the chance to train me, so his Padawan, my former master, requested that he take me up as his Padawan. No Padawan had ever been trained at such a young age, but the council accepted his wish as a dying request from Qui-Gon.” Anakin still recalls that day–he was waiting outside the council’s room–in wonder at the grand pillars of the Jedi Temple. It was so grandiose and had a sense of holiness, two things he never witnessed on Tatooine.
“I had to work twice as hard as the other younglings to get up to speed. Most of them already had years of experience with the Jedi, they knew how to properly wield the force and the Jedi scriptures were ingrained into their beings by that point. Eventually, I surpassed the younglings and surpassed the expectations of the council. But even then, the council has never fully trusted me. I feel they’re always scrutinizing me, watching for my next mistake too. I’m not the most conventional Jedi, and I don’t always play by the books, but I’m a Jedi through and thorough. No matter how many times I prove that the council, or even my former master, they don’t believe in me. We’ve been fighting this war for Maker knows how long, and they still refuse to make me master, despite being the poster boy for this war.” 
“Wow, Anakin…I didn’t expect that from you.” You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself relating to Anakin, you were on completely different sides of society. How could you, a pop star, relate to a Jedi? It comforted you in a way, to know that you weren’t the only person to go through feelings of inadequacy and frustration. “How do you deal with it?”
“When I was a Padawan in training, I didn’t deal with it most healthily. I was snarky (he still is), and rebelled against my master’s teachings. I was stubborn, hoping that if I showed off my power, I could finally be appreciated by the council. I was wrong to do that, it’s how I lost my right arm.” Anakin then slipped off his glove to show you the silver mechanical prosthetic. You gasped, not expecting to learn this information. Anakin continued, “I still like to show off, but as I matured, I realized that I didn’t have to define myself by the approval of others. I know that I am capable, and I will keep working hard until the council recognizes that.” 
“You don’t deserve that. I know we only just met, but I’ve only heard remarkable things about you. The Republic wouldn’t stand a chance against the Separatists against you. I mean no offense to the other Jedi, they’re all vital to the war effort too, but we need someone who takes risks and isn’t afraid to be unorthodox. I don’t know much about the Jedi, but I know one day you’ll make a great Master.”
This heart-to-heart chat with Anakin was unexpected but welcomed. You appreciated that he was honest and open with you–someone who was practically a stranger still. He didn’t have to come all this way to pick you up nor did Anakin need to comfort you in an hour of need, but he did. However, Anakin didn’t let the conversation marinate too long, suddenly embarrassed at the information he shared with you. 
Anakin stood up from the ground and reached his hand toward you. You accepted his hand and Anakin pulled you up as well. “Are you feeling better now?”
Despite the dried tear marks on your face and the incoming headache you were about to face, you told Anakin that you did feel better. You weren’t ready to divulge your entire past with Anakin just yet, but maybe one day the two of you could become friends. Did that count as an attachment? You weren’t sure. 
“Let’s get you home, pop star.”
“Thanks, General.”
Tumblr media
The second instance with Anakin was in an unconventional situation, but it brought a smile to your face when you recalled it. It was only the fifth day of him being assigned as your bodyguard. The incident at the practice room happened on his third day there. You wanted to speak to him more after that night, but you found yourself pulled in all directions by your management team. You supposed you should be thankful–you promised to stay away from Anakin. The only issue is that you didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.
Anakin walked into your living room after talking with Obi-Wan through his commlink. Obi-Wan was updating Anakin on his most recent diplomatic mission on a nearby planet. A heated conversation was taking place between you and Gido. 
“You’re being ridiculous! It’s not even that scary and you can’t keep on relying on others to transport you places,” Gido said as he pinched his nose with a hand, a look of frustration on his face.
“Of course I can! I’m rich. I can just hire chauffeurs!” you taunted in reply. You knew your argument wasn’t sound, but you just wanted to vex Gido at this point. Deep down, you knew your manager was right. 
“What about when you’re old and retired? Who’s going to help you then? Certainly not I. I’ll be dead!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you.
A glare embraced your face at Gido’s words. You scoffed before turning your body, not realizing that Anakin entered the room. He had to stop sneaking in like that. Those damn Jedi. 
Anakin looked at you two with a curious look. Having joined the conversation toward its end, Anakin did not know what you two were talking about. Heat ran up your neck and toward your face as Gido explained with a deadpan expression.
“My dear friend here does not have her Republic driving license, despite being an adult. I’ve been telling her to get her license for years, but she always manages to procrastinate. And every time I tell her, she brushes me off her shoulder.” He pointed at you with an accusing thumb.
With a high-pitched tone, you defended yourself, “I know how to drive!... Sort of. Look, I just don’t like driving. The skylanes are always chaotic and the last time I visited the Ministry of Transport, it took me hours to update my identification and the workers were extremely rude. I’m not going back there if I don’t have to!” 
“And I keep telling her, she needs to get her license. Kid, don’t be stubborn. Wouldn’t you feel more independent if you could drive around yourself?”
“Oh, stop bullshitting me, Gido. You just don’t want to drive me around because you hate the sky lanes as much as I do!” It was true. Gido groaned and mumbled every time he had to drive you places, complaining that he wouldn’t need to take you to run your errands if you had your own license. You couldn’t help it–you enjoyed dragging Gido along and you knew he secretly enjoyed spending time with you. 
Anakin had a solution to both of your problems. Driving was one of his fortes. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would disagree, but Anakin knew he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Yes, Anakin could be reckless, but there was never a landing or move he couldn’t pull off. The innate talent he had as a young boy flourished when he moved to Coruscant and began his Padawan training. Having access to much more refined and newer technology allowed Anakin to perfect the craft of piloting. 
“I can teach you how to drive. I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.” The seriousness on Anakin’s face indicated that he wasn’t joking. 
You gulped. The heating sensation returned. You began to shake your head from side to side with wide eyes. Your hands moved in front of you as if to mimic the movement of your head, waving off Anakin’s solution. 
“I don’t think that necessary,” you protested. 
“Actually, I think it’s very necessary. Only the Maker knows how long you’ll push this off. Anakin, would you mind doing this favor? I have a few meetings with the company, we need to finalize the last details for the benefit. Feel free to use her airspeeder parked outside–it’s one of the newest models,” Gido stated.
Anakin grinned. He really did miss his yellow Eta-2 Starfighter, but he would never deny the chance to operate new technology.
That’s how you found yourself outside sitting in a neatly parked J12 Twin-pod on your apartment’s landing platform. The airspeeder belonged to you, though you’d never driven it before. The airspeeder was one of the newer models on the market. The surface was wrapped with a special pink-tinted chrome wrap making the car look sleek and expensive. Gido, your chauffeur, and occasionally Chione, were the only people to ever drive it.
You looked out the window and saw Anakin approaching the passenger side of the airspeeder. “Karking hell, I’m really doing this,” you thought. You detested driving. It made your palms sweaty and shot your nervous system. To make matters worse, you would be stuck in the confined airspeeder with Anakin! So much for trying to keep your proximity from him. You were both scared and embarrassed. Here was Anakin, the most famous Jedi at the moment, teaching pathetic you how to properly drive. Surely he had much better, more important things to do–like lead a war planning meeting or something. 
The passenger door opened, and Anakin effortlessly climbed into the passenger seat and sat down. Your back stiffened, and suddenly the airspeeder seemed tighter. You shot an uneasy glance toward Anakin, who only smiled in excitement.
After the other night in the dance room where you had that conversation with Anakin, you felt less apprehensive around him. He was more human to you and less of a mysterious figure, less of a pretty face who made you nervous. You still found yourself mousy and internally reeling in his presence, but Anakin was becoming akin to a friend. You started conversing more during mealtimes, slowly getting to know each other. 
“Alright, pop star, first we’re going to start with the controls. You have to fire up the engine by flipping this red switch. After the flip is switched, check your mirrors to ensure you can view directly behind and on your sides. Be careful with your blind spots. You don’t want to get rear-ended because you forgot to check for it. Coruscant sky lanes are no joke. With an airspeeder as pretty as yours, I’d hate to see it get destroyed. ” Anakin pointed toward a red button near the right side of the console, located next to the steering gear. “You got that?” Anakin questioned with one eyebrow raised. 
Once again, Anakin felt your energy through the force. It was way calmer compared to the first day, but he could still feel your energy buzzing. Perhaps you realized that his presence was nothing to fear. 
“Go on. Turn it on,” Anakin commanded. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you heard the baritone voice command you. It reverberated several times in your head. Anakin’s voice was manly, and extremely attractive. You felt jealous that his soldiers got to hear that voice every day. 
You reached toward the switch and flipped it upward with a shaky hand. The airspeeder lit up from inside, indicating it had come to life. There wasn’t an initial turbo–this was one of the main features of this model. It was supposed to fly seamlessly through the air. You placed your hands on each side of the steering gears. Not knowing what to do next, you looked at Anakin for guidance. 
Anakin stood up to stand directly behind you. He reached out his arms and placed his hands on top of yours. He then leaned down to the side of your face and explained, “I’m going to show you how you properly place your hands on the steering gear and how to move it while you’re driving.” Anakin moved your hands toward the middle of the gear. 
“Have a tight grip on the gear. The tighter the grip, the more control you have over the speeder. The higher sky lanes get more wind traction, so it’s especially important to have control in those lanes.” You nodded to show you were following. Anakin suddenly turned the gear harshly to the left, “Don’t do what I just did. When you turn the gear harshly, you jerk the speeder. If you’re switching lanes or turning a corner, switch on your indicators so other drivers know which way you’re going.” Of course, Anakin never followed his own advice, but for your sake, he played it by the books. 
It all felt too intimate. Your head was in a rush, which probably wasn’t the best state to be in while you were about to drive. Anakin’s hands engulfed yours. The difference between his callused hands and your perfectly manicured hands drove you crazy. You could see the veins exposed on his ungloved hand. The sight of the green veins made your stomach turn warm. Much like his face, Anakin’s hand was sculpted by the Maker themself. Not even the finest marble statues could compare to the piece of art that was Anakin Skywalker. 
“...Lastly, when you’re making a turn, do not turn the gear all the way around. The speeder has a built-in function that automatically rotates it. If you turn it all the way, you’ll make a sharp turn, ruining the internal tachyon drive regulator. Do you think you can handle this? Gido told me about the last time you tried to drive.” The last time you tried to drive, it resulted in several fines and almost caused a crash–the tabloids were on your ass for weeks after that.
You completely spaced out while Anakin was speaking, too focused on your inner thoughts. Hearing the teasing tone of his voice brought you back. You hated being undermined. You would prove to Anakin, and Gido, that you can drive perfectly fine and that you have nothing to be scared of. 
“I can you assure that not only can I handle this, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly I learn,” you sassed Anakin back. You were lying. You couldn’t handle this, yet you couldn’t look like a ditz in front of Anakin. 
“Let’s start flying. Don’t be nervous. I’m right here if you need me.” 
Anakin sat back in his seat and observed you as you started maneuvering the aircraft. He directed you toward a sky lane to merge into. “I’m going to guide you to a specific path where the air traffic isn’t so busy. It should be easier for you to fly since there isn’t as much chaos.” 
You kept a strong grip on the steering gear. Coruscant Prime, Coruscant’s only sun, was shining bright. The Weather Control Network did a splendid job at keeping Coruscant’s weather optical today–it wasn’t too windy and the sky was clear. You took it as a positive sign. 
The airspeeder flew steadily through the air. Anakin was surprised. The way Gido described your driving, he assumed that he would need to take control of the speeder earlier. You weren’t doing a terrible job so far. Aside from the occasional jerk or harsh turn, you managed not to crash so far. 
Maybe Anakin thought too soon. “Watch out! Watch out to your right!,” Anakin exclaimed. You tried switching lanes, but the speeder behind you wasn’t slowing down to let you in. You narrowly avoided an accident at the last second by going back into your lane.
“Oops–I didn’t mean that,” you said with a giggle and a shrug of your shoulders. “How am I doing so far?”
“You’re not doing too bad, with some more practice, you should be able to get your license in no time. Why do you hate driving so much?”
While still focusing on the sky in front of you, you explained to Anakin, “I love Coruscant and all that it has to offer. But the sky lanes in Bar’leth are much calmer and less congested. I grew up used to that. Even after all these years of living here, I still can’t stomach the driving here. It’s horrendous! I much prefer to have someone else drive, that way the pressure won’t be on me. I know Gido’s right, I need my license, but can you blame me? We’ve already witnessed almost two accidents! How did you get so good at flying?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot since I was a little boy. I used to tinker in the garage, building and modifying parts for my own podracer. I even won the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine,” answered Anakin.
“Why did you want to become a pilot?” you wondered. Anakin seemed like like an intentional type of person–his actions, thoughts, and opinions were direct reflections of him and what he felt inside. 
Not many people outside of the Jedi temple knew Anakin’s true origins–that he was a former slave. The first ten years of his life were filtered solely through this lens, it came to impact much of his opinions on life, politics, and society. He didn’t like speaking about it and avoided the topic as much as he could. Anakin hated his life as a slave and he hated slavery with every fibre of his being. However, Anakin especially hated speaking about this past life now because every time he did, he was reminded of how he willingly chose to leave his mother on Tatooine. Anakin felt like he was the reason she died. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to save her from the Tuskens, but maybe, just maybe, if he stayed with his mother instead of leaving with Qui-Gon, Shmi Skywalker’s death could have been avoided. 
Anakin didn’t respond to your question. When you looked at him, his face was scrunched up in a deep thought. 
You were about to say something else when you saw something approaching the speeder from the corner of your eye. You quickly glanced to your left, only to spot a human male nearly hanging off the side of his airspeeder with a cam held up to his eye. You groaned out loud which caught Anakin’s attention. They came at the worst time possible. You were trying to learn how to drive for Kriff’s sake!
“The paparazzi are following! Can’t they just leave me alone” you ranted. You needed them to get off your trail, fast. You had a complex relationship with the paparazzi. You hated the way they invaded your privacy and fed the Holonet tabloids with material to gossip about. For every bad picture, outrageous rumor, and leaked news, there was a paparazzi behind it. They caused you so much pain. At the same time, the very nature of your career relied on the paparazzi to dispel news and reveal your current state of affairs through pictures. They were unofficial members of your public relations team. Every celebrity knew that they needed the paparazzi as much as they hated them. You couldn’t imagine what ridiculous headline they would come up with now.
The man got closer and closer to your speeder as he tried to record you on his cam. He was mere inches away from crashing into the side of your speeder. You started to panic and your hands lost your tight grip as you started to tremble. Even the slightest movement to the left would cause a crash, potentially sending both of your speeders tumbling below. 
“Anakin, what do I do? I don’t know what to do! They’re too close,” you yelped. Any closer and the paparazzi’s camera would touch your speeder’s window. 
“Stay calm, pop star. I got this.” Anakin’s tone was cocky. He had something up his sleeve. This wasn’t his first high-speed chase, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. Anakin switched into General mode. His hands swiftly moved across the dashboard as he pressed a multitude of buttons and flipped several switches. 
“What are you doing?!” You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, the fear slipping out of your voice a squeak. 
“Relax. I’m just taking control of the speeder. This speeder model is programmed so that in case of emergencies, the co-passager can take control of the speeder and drive it.” A panel opened on the console and an additional steering gear emerged into view. Anakin gripped the gear and turned it to the right. The speeder lurched to the right, putting more distance between you and the paparazzi. 
No longer needed to grip the gear, you turned toward Anakin and shielded yourself by facing your back toward the window. The Holo Net wouldn’t be getting anything out of you today. Those insatiable nerfhurders had no boundaries sometimes. 
“You better hold on tight. Things are about to get bumpy.” The only way to get these paparazzi off your trail was by speeding up and losing them in the endless zigzags of Coruscant. Anakin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation–the past few rotations with you have been enjoyable and peaceful, but he needed an outlet for his energy. Ever since the Clone Wars started, Anakin was constantly on the go, so his body and mind were accustomed to this. Fortunately for Anakin, flying was the best outlet for him. 
“What do you mean? Anakin, I’m begging you. Please don’t do anything crazy. I get motion sick-” Your words were cut off as the speeder accelerated. “ANAKIN!!!,” you screamed. You then quickly shut your eyes again. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene in front of you. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Anakin was driving significantly faster than what was allowed by the law. 
The speeder weaved in and out of lanes. At one point, Anakin squeezed in between two speeders before hitting the turbo boosters. The paparazzi were still hot on your trail, but at least they were no longer directly next to you. You finally opened your eyes and saw that you were nearing the retail district, CoCo Town. Suddenly, the speeder nosedived toward the ground and you tightly clung to the gear in front of you for stability. The paparazzi were still chasing you, their speeder also diving below. 
“Anakin do you have to be so reckless?!,” you shouted as Anakin laughed. 
“My apologies–it was either that or let the paparazzi stalk you. Which one did you prefer? I didn’t have time to ask while you were panicking,” he replied in a sarcastic tone. You were about to rebuttal, but Anakin continued talking. “As soon as I land this on the ground, we’re going to get out and run. Let’s try to lose them in the crowd.”
The speeder lowered onto the ground and Anakin quickly parked the vehicle on a landing platform where several other speeders were parked. The doors unlocked and you both quickly stepped out. Before you could even completely step off, Anakin grabbed you by your waist and lowered you onto the ground. He then grabbed your hand and started running in the opposite direction of the speeder. You looked behind you, only to see the paparazzi had caught up and were now looking for you. After a quick scan, one of their eyes caught yours and they looked toward each other before running in the same direction as you and Anakin.
You could barely think about the paparazzi chasing you down as your mind relished the feeling of Anakin’s hands engulfing your waist. Anakin was a statuesque man, it made sense that his hands would be the same. Your skin burned at the touch. You shook your head to wane off the thoughts and redirect your focus in front of you. 
Anakin’s back was facing you, his wide shoulders moving up and down as you ran through the crowds together. His curls bounced with each step. You apologized to each person you bumped into, slightly embarrassed to be in a situation like this. Why did this have to happen to you? Couldn’t they have picked another celebrity to torment today? You heard from the jogan fruit vine that the Holodrama actress Alexis Cov-Prim was getting out of rehab today. Wouldn’t that be a juicer headline than you learning how to drive? You already had one bad story from driving, you didn’t need another. 
Anakin made a sharp turn around and corner and dragged you into a store named “Madame Acantha’s Emporium.” You kept your head low as Anakin greeted the storekeeper. You didn’t want to risk being recognized again. As you looked around and observed the store, you noticed the store sold a variety of womenswear from dresses to accessories. Anakin scanned the store for any suspicious figures before turning towards you.
“Grab something to disguise yourself with. We can’t stay in here forever.” You started browsing through the racks of clothes, pulling out a large knitted sweater before walking over to the accessory area and picking out a pair of daytime spectacles and a vibrant magenta wig with a bob cut. Anakin couldn’t disguise himself as he was too big for the clothing sold here. That didn’t matter as long as you could disguise yourself. 
You quickly walked over to the changing rooms before switching out your outer layer for the sweater. After putting on the sweater, you grabbed the only elastic on your wrist and tied your hair so the wig could fit on. Once the wig was secured on your head, you put on the daytime spectacles and walked out of the changing rooms. You rushed towards the cashier and quickly asked her to ring up the transaction before throwing your credit chip on the counter. The employee, a humanoid woman of a species you couldn’t name, quickly rang up the transaction before handing you a receipt and bidding you a good day.
You turned towards Anakin and asked, “Does this look alright? Do I look like myself?”
Anakin stepped closer to you and grabbed the sides of your face. He slipped some of the wig’s hair through his fingers before adjusting it so it sat properly on your head. His fingers lingered for a second before he nodded. “I can’t even recognize you. Let’s go before they catch up.”
Anakin walked out of the store first and scoped the street. He looked left and right before quickly going back inside. He grabbed you and shoved the both of you behind the first rack of clothes he saw. You were about to protest when you saw the two men from earlier, the one who was recording had his camera by his side. They went up to the shopkeeper at the cashier and began to converse with the lady, most likely asking her if she had seen anyone with the same description as you. While they were distracted, you and Anakin looked at each other and secretly decided to make a run for it.
You both ran out of the store and into an alleyway nearby. You saw the paparazzi running past the alleyway as you were catching your breath. Then, you started to giggle. The whole situation was absurd. You, standing in an alleyway, with a bright wig and sunglasses–obviously a terrible disguise–and Anakin Skywalker, the most famous Jedi at the moment, dressed in all of his Jedi garb with his lightsaber attached at the hilt.
“What are you laughing at?,” Anakin asked, one of his perfectly shaped eyes arched. You must have looked crazy. 
“I’m laughing at the situation. I look like a clown,” you replied. “Let’s go, I’m hungry after all that running and chasing. Let’s get something to eat–my treat.” You then walked out of the alleyway together. Before you stepped into the public view, you turned towards Anakin, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you to save the day.” You gave Anakin a look of genuine gratefulness.  
The both of you proceeded in the direction of the shops.
“Come on, pop star. I know a great diner that my old master loves. It’s called Dex’s Diner. Have you ever been there before?” Anakin asked. 
The both of you arrived at Dex’s Diner and proceeded to order half the menu. You spent hours in the diner, the both of you enjoying each other’s company after the crazy events of the day.
You spent the same evening replaying all of the times Anakin touched you and how each touch made you feel. 
Tumblr media
You decided it was time to get out of your head and back into the present. If you stayed in the sonic tub any longer, you wouldn’t have enough time to get ready without feeling rushed. You stood up from the sonic tub and grabbed the plush white robe sitting on the table next to it. You then put the robe on and walked toward the mirror. 
You grabbed the brush and started brushing through your hair to ensure that any tangles and knots were out. After deciding your hair was neat enough, you put the brush down and started moisturizing your body with your favorite lotion. You would let your hair air dry until you figured out how you wanted to style it. The lotion was made from the musk-rose plant and mixed with tiny hints of vanilla. When you were done moisturizing your body and applying your skincare, you walked out of the room and into the closet directly in front of the refresher.
To say your closet was huge is an understatement. When you finally earned enough credits to afford a high-rise apartment, the one thing you told your realtor was that you would not compromise on a small closet. The closet was lined with shelves and racks, each holding either your clothes or your shoes. In the middle of the closet sat an island, constructed with cream-yellow Selonian marble, that stored all of your accessories. A floor-to-ceiling mirror and lounging chaise were perched at the far corner of the room. You walked over to the shelf that held your dresses and began to sift through them. You felt the soft silks, thin taffetas, and the gorgeous gemwebs of your collection.
“Aha,” you muttered as your hand finally landed on the gown you were looking for. The gown, designed by one of the most in-demand fashion ateliers, was a floor-length, demicot silk-lined tight velvet black gown with a curved necklace. The upper half of the gown was pale pink and covered in a multitude of tiny sequins and pearl studs. One shoulder extended out into the shape of a single petal, which was also fabricated with sequins and pearls. You paired it with a pair of black gloves that extended to your mid-bicep. The dress was as much haute as it was a piece of wearable art. If there was one thing you loved about being wealthy, it was the clothes. 
You laid your evening gown on the chaise before traveling to your vanity and beginning on your makeup. Since the gown was extravagant in itself, you decided that a more subtle makeup look would complement the overall look more. You wanted people to focus on the gown and all its intricacies and craftsmanship. After glossing your lips with a matching shade of pink, you finished your makeup and moved on to your hair. You settled on a suitable hairstyle and allowed your loose face-framing layers to enhance the shape of your face. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you were ready to go. You walked out of your room and towards the living where Anakin was waiting for you. 
To be continued...
Tumblr media
(Here is a link to the dress, which was designed by Miss Sohee. One thing I love about the SW universe is the fashion, so I wanted to include a dress that reflected that. Like, come on. Have you seen Padme’s and Satine’s outfits?)
taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader
lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!
62 notes · View notes
ironwoman359 · 1 year ago
Text
A Thief's Gamble - Ch.1:
No Risk, No Reward
Next: Ch.2 - All Eyes on Us Fic Masterpost
Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.
Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence
Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)
Word Count: 2,781
Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!
AN: I have nothing to say for myself other than that Brynjolf is one of my favorite Skyrim characters, and this is an excuse for me to flesh him out both as an individual and in relation to the player. Has this probably been done a thousand times? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not. Thanks for reading! (and let me know if you want to be tagged in updates, I'll do so if you like!)
--- --- ---
Brynjolf had a headache.
He’d had a faint one building behind his eyes for most of the day, but after listening to Keerava complain- loudly- that the Guild was asking more than she could afford for protection and that if he knew what was good for him he’d jump of the pier…his head was well and truly pounding. 
“Want me to top that off for you, Bryn?” 
Brynjolf blinked, and looked up to see Vekel looking at him expectantly, a flagon in his hand. 
“Sorry lad, what was that?” 
Vekel chuckled, and filled Brynjolf’s tankard with ale. 
“You’ve been distracted lately, my friend. Better not let Mercer catch you staring off into space like that.” 
“Now there’s an earful I don’t need,” Brynjolf agreed, lifting his tankard in acknowledgement before taking a swig. 
“Well, go on then,” Vekel prodded. “Tell us what’s going on in that big brain of yours.” 
“It’s nothing lad, just a headache,” Brynjolf said, but Vekel shook his head.
“I’m not just talking about today, Bryn, you’ve been off ever since you pulled that job on Brand-Shei.” 
“Have I?” Brynolf asked, and Vekel nodded.
“You have. Which doesn’t track,” Dirge piped up, walking over to the bar. “Because you said that the job went off without a hitch.” 
“So if you’re not thinking about the job, what are you thinking about?” Vekel asked. 
A face came to Brynjolf’s mind unbidden, bright eyes and sharp features framed by dark hair, but he pushed the image away. 
“You know as well as I do that the Guild’s seen better days, lads,” he said, taking another sip. “Just trying to work out how to bring her back to her former glory.” 
“Aaaah, so that’s why you’ve been distracted these past few days,” Vekel said knowingly. “You think you’ve found another recruit, don’t you?” 
“So what if I have?” Brynjolf demanded, arching an eyebrow at the barkeep. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: what this outfit needs is some fresh blood.”
“Except the last three recruits you tried to bring on board washed out before they could make any serious coin,” Dirge pointed out, and Brynjolf frowned.
“At least I’m actually trying to solve the problem,” he said. “If we ever want to get back on our feet, the Thieves Guild needs to actually employ some master thieves.” 
“Aaaand, the last few kids you pulled into this mess were ‘master thief’ material?” Dirge asked, and Vekel snickered. 
“Give it up, Brynjolf,” he said. “Those days are over.” 
Brynjolf sighed.
“I’m telling you, this one is different…” he began, but Dirge scoffed.
“We’ve all heard that one before, Bryn! Quit kidding yourself.” 
Brynjolf opened his mouth to reply, but paused. Beneath his friends’ ribbing and the quiet clinking of cups on tables and forks on plates from the Flagon’s few other patrons, there was another sound. The sound of boots on stone, the steps slow and cautious as they approached. 
“It’s time to face the truth, old friend,” Vekel said. “You, Vex, Mercer…you’re all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!” 
Brynjolf turned, saw exactly who he’d hoped he would, and a smile spread across his face. 
“Dying breed, eh?” he repeated. “Well what do you call that then!” 
The woman was slight, an Imperial by the looks of her, and she had a bow drawn, one arrow knocked loosely on the string.
“Well well, color me impressed, lass,” Brynjolf said, nodding to her. “I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again.”
The woman’s eyes flitted around, lingering on Dirge for a moment before eventually slinging her bow over her shoulder.
“Getting here was easy,” she said, stowing her arrow in its quiver. 
Brynjolf chuckled.
“Reliable and headstrong? You’re proving to be quite the prize. The name’s Brynjolf, lass.” 
“Ariene,” said the Imperial.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Brynjolf said. “So... now that I've whetted your appetite with our little scheme at the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?"
Ariene frowned, shifting her weight.
“Deadbeats?” she asked. “What’d they do?” 
“They owe our organization some serious coin, and they’ve decided not to pay,” Brynjolf explained. “I want you to explain to them the error of their ways.” 
Ariene nodded thoughtfully.
“Sounds good…who are they?”
“Keerava,” Brynjolf said, ticking the marks off on his fingers, “Bersi Honey-Hand, and Haelga. Do this right, and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization.”
“And…how do you want me to handle it?” Ariene asked carefully.
Brynjolf sighed, his mind drifting back to the insults that Keerava had thrown at him that morning.
“Honestly? The debt is secondary here. What’s more important is that you get the message across that we are to be ignored.” He frowned, and looked pointedly at the bow strapped to Ariene’s back. “A word of warning though…I don’t want any of them killed. Bad for business.”
To his surprise, Ariene’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and she nodded.
“Will I get a cut?” she asked, and Brynjolf laughed.
“Of course you’ll get a cut. We take care of our own.”
“Then consider it done.”
“Alright then lass, get going. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
The woman nodded and turned without another word, heading back into the ratways the way she came.
Brynjolf grinned, and turned back to Dirge and Vekel.
“Anything to say now, lads?”
“Sure, she made it down here,” Vekel said dismissively. “But that doesn’t make her a master thief. A hundred septims says she’ll turn out just like all the others.”
“I told you Vekel, this one is different,” Brynjolf insisted.
Still, as he sat back down at the bar, it was hard to ignore the facts. He’d been trying to breathe new life into the Guild, but Vekel and Dirge had a point. Previous recruits hadn’t stuck around long. Some didn’t keep up a high standard of work, others realized how poor the Guild’s standing really was and abandoned it. A few had even been caught and either killed or imprisoned. 
Brynjolf knew Mercer was running out of patience with his attempts, but he didn’t see any other options. They couldn’t rely solely on Maven forever, and the way Brynjolf saw it, their dwindling reputation and cash flow needed to be addressed, or the Guild, and everyone in it, would be history.
You’d better come through for me, lass, he thought, bringing his tankard to his lips. Because I’m putting my last bet on you.
--- --- ---
Despite his high hopes, part of Brynjolf was worried that the woman would simply take the money for herself and disappear after shaking down her three marks. After all, it’d taken her several days to reappear in the ratways after the job on Brand-Shei, and Brynjolf had been doing this for a long time. 
His gut told him that she would pull through, but having a contingency was just as important as having good instincts. He’d put the word out to his contacts within the city guard to alert him if an imperial woman fitting Ariene's description tried to skip town, and he had a few others keeping eyes on the docks and weak points in the city walls in case she tried to slip out that way. 
Mercer had given him the usual grief about wasting manpower, but Brynjolf knew that if the coin came through, he’d let the matter go. And as the day drew to a close and no runners came bursting into the Flagon to tell him that his recruit had killed one of the marks or vanished with his gold, the more sure he became that this had been a good call. 
“I still don’t know about this, Bryn,” Delvin grumbled. “Even if this new recruit of yours is as good as you say, that don’t mean that the curse ain’t gonna affect them, same as the rest of us.”  
Brynjolf rolled his eyes. 
“Mentioning the curse in every other conversation isn’t going to make more people believe you, old man. It’s just going to make them think you’re crazy.”
“You can call me what you like,” Delvin said, shrugging. “Don’t change the facts.” 
“Brynjolf,” Dirge called, and Brynjolf looked up to see Ariene walking towards them, a sack of gold in her hand. 
“Well well, look who’s back,” he said, shooting a smug look over his shoulder at Delvin, who just shook his head and took a sip of his ale. 
“So lass,” he said, getting to his feet. “Job’s done, and you even brought the gold.” He spotted movement behind her, and saw one of his runners slip into the Flagon. They flashed him a quick hand signal, and he smiled. “Best of all, you did it clean. I like that. Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can be expensive.” 
Ariene nodded, and held out the coin purse. 
“Here’s what they owed us,” she said, and Brynjolf took it. 
“Well done, lass. And it would seem I owe you something in return.”
He turned and picked up a few potion bottles from the table behind him. 
“Here you go, I think you’ll find these quite useful.” 
Ariene took them, examined them for a moment, then nodded, slipping them into a satchel at her side. 
“What’s next, then?” she asked.
“Well,” Brynjolf said, hefting the bag of coin in his hand. “Judging from how well you handled those shopkeepers, I’d say you’ve done more than simply prove yourself.” 
He looked back at Delvin and raised an eyebrow. The man nodded, and Brynjolf smiled at Ariene. 
“We need people like you in our outfit.” 
Ariene looked around, and Brynjolf saw her eyes linger on the rickety tables, on the grime covering the tankards, and the empty seats covered in dust. She looked up at him, and after a moment of meeting his gaze, she nodded.
“If there’s more gold where that came from, then I’m in.” 
“That’s the spirit!” Brynjolf said, grinning. “Larceny’s in your blood…the telltale sign of a practiced thief. I think you’ll do more than just fit in around here.” 
Brynjolf turned to lead her to the cistern but she hesitated.
“Before we go, I have to ask…” she trailed off, and looked around the room again.
“What’s on your mind?” Brynjolf asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Word is your outfit isn’t doing…well.” One side of her mouth ticked up in a half smile, and she gestured vaguely around them. “True?”
Brynjolf chuckled. 
“You’re a sharp one, lass. Aye, we’ve run into a bit of a rough patch lately…but it’s nothing to be concerned about.” He let out a sigh, then flashed her a small smile. “Tell you what. You keep making us coin, and I’ll worry about everything else. Fair enough?” 
Ariene nodded slowly. 
“Fair enough.” 
“Now, if there are no more questions? How about you follow me, and I’ll show you what we’re all about.” 
Brynjolf led Ariene through the back room, sliding away the false panel in the storage cupboard and stepping through to the passageway beyond.
“So everyone in the tavern back there, they’re all members?” Ariene asked.
“Not everyone is,” Brynjolf explained. “Vekel owns the Ragged Flagon, and Dirge works for him. Tonilia, well, she’s got her own business. But they all work closely with us. We keep coin in each other's pockets and watch each other's backs.” 
“And you lead the Guild?” asked Ariene, and Brynjolf scoffed.
“Me? No, lass. I’m just a lieutenant. I keep things running as smooth as I can, but I’m no Guildmaster. Mercer is the one who makes the decisions around here. And speaking of…”
He led her into the cistern, where Mercer was waiting for them on the dais in the center of the room.
"Mercer?” he called. “This is the one I was talking about...our new recruit."
Mercer sighed and folded his arms.
"This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf," he said. 
He turned to Ariene, and looked her up and down slowly. A frown spread across his face, and he folded his arms.
"Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear,” he said, addressing her. “If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions... you do what we say, when we say.”
Ariene raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, mirroring Mercer’s pose.
“Do I make myself clear?" Mercer demanded, and Ariene glanced over at Brynjolf. 
“Rules?” she asked, looking back to Mercer. “We’re thieves. What’s the point of rules?
Mercer took a slow step forward, stopping only when he was mere inches away from her face, and Brynjolf grimaced. 
“I'll let that comment go because you're new here,” Mercer growled. “Ask things out of turn again, and we have a problem. Now, are. We. Clear?" 
Ariene, to her credit, didn’t react beyond a slight tensing of her shoulders, and she nodded once. 
“Crystal,” she said evenly.
“Good,” Mercer said, stepping back. “Then I think it's time we put your expertise to the test."  
“Wait a moment,” Brynjolf said, frowning. There was only one job going on at the moment that Mercer was concerning himself with…a job that Brynjolf had not intended for a fresh recruit to try and take on all alone. “You’re not talking about Goldenglow, are you?” he asked, and Mercer nodded. “Even our little Vex couldn’t get in!”
Mercer just raised an eyebrow. 
“You claim this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let her prove it.” 
“Goldenglow?” Ariene repeated, and Mercer turned back to her. 
“Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients,” he explained. “However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details." 
He turned, clearly signaling that the conversation was over, and Brynjolf folded his arms. 
“Mercer. Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Hmm?” he looked back at them, and Brynjolf looked pointedly at Ariene. “Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild.”
He turned and strode away, and Brynjolf blew out a breath before smiling at Ariene with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. 
“Well he’s cheerful,” Ariene said quietly, a grin playing at the edge of her mouth, and Brynjolf tilted his head.
“How much of that ignorance was on purpose?” he asked, and she shrugged. 
“I wanted to see how he’d respond to confrontation. Evidently, not well.” 
“Well, I could have told you that,” Brynjolf said with a quiet laugh. “But never mind that now. You’re in. Welcome to the family, lass. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don't disappoint me."
Ariene nodded. 
“So how do I get my cut of the spoils?” she asked. 
“Simple,” Brynjolf replied. “Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can't turn a profit by killing.”
“Fine by me.” 
“You should talk with Delvin Mallory and Vex. They know their way around this place and they'll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh, and talk to Tonilia in the Flagon... she'll set you up with your new armor.” 
“Speaking of the Flagon, I could use a drink,” Ariene said. “Let me buy you one too…as an apology for upsetting Mercer.”
Brynjolf shook his head. 
“I told you lass, you just worry about making us coin. I’ll worry about everything else, and that includes Mercer, alright?”
“Well then...consider it a thank you,” she suggested. 
“A thank you?” he repeated, and she actually looked a tad sheepish.
“I can tell you were taking a chance, bringing me in to all of this,” she said, her voice quiet. “It was a risk; a risk that you didn’t have to take. And I…appreciate that.” 
Brynjolf smiled.
“Well, I suppose I have time for a quick drink. A drink, and a toast to the newest member of the Guild.”  
Ariene brightened, and turned to head out of the cistern and back into the Flagon. Brynjolf went to follow, but glanced back over his shoulder. Mercer stood at his desk, leaning over a set of plans with a frown on his face. 
“Tell you what lass,” Brynjolf said slowly. “You go on ahead, introduce yourself to the others. I’ll join you in a moment, and we can discuss business.” 
Ariene nodded, and Brynjolf watched her go, waiting until the door to the Flagon closed behind her before turning and striding across the room.
“Mercer!” he said, and Mercer glared up at him. “We need to talk.”
--- --- ---
Next: Ch.2
40 notes · View notes
wangmiao · 10 months ago
Text
Shipper Tag Game
thanks so much to @godotismissingx for tagging me again!
1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore?
i'll be honest LOL i was oblivious in stuff like this when i was a teenager. yes, i'd drool over celebrities and characters, but i never knew shipping was a thing.
2. Which ship would you consider your first one?
i got into the fandom culture very late, so my first ship was joseph chandler x emerson kent from whitechapel
3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple?
i honestly don't remember. i got into fanfic pretty late too. maybe whitechapel as well?
4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over?
nope
5. Did you ever get into ship discourse?
i don't really do discourse most of the time.
6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently?
i don't know how you define no-otp. like is it just something you don't ship, or you hate? there are ships that i don't like, and i just don't mention them at all on my blog. if you know that i've watched a show or film, but i never mention or reblog a popular ship from the show/film, that's probably my no-otp...
7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?
LOL i'm predictable, shi qiang x wang miao (shiwang) from three-body. i'm especially into reading fanfic recently. one of the first things i check every morning is if there's new shiwang fic.
8. Currently, do you have any OTPs?
shiwang has been living in my mind rent free for an entire year now, and i haven't gotten tired of them yet...probably never will...
recently i'm into cheng bing x pan dahai from the lonely warrior and tang chuan x shi hong from the devotion of suspect x.
and just to name a few other otps: guang hongfeng x zhou xun in day and night, lee joongyeop x cha jaehwan from chimera, lee chang x youngshin in kingdom; cheng fengtai x shangxirui from winter begonia, agron x nasir from spartacus, jack x ianto from torchwood, and my first whitechapel ship is always very important to me.
9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?
i'm used to not having ships be 100% canon. what can you do? sigh!
10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?
can't really think of anything
11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?
can't think of anything either...
12. What was your favorite crack ship?
i don't really have one...xD...
13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of?
definitely shiwang...i kinda stopped reading fanfic in early 2019 due to the original sin/原生之罪 drama and a family incident...i might have tried some fanfic occasionally, but i generally wasn't in a mood for fanfic until three-body aired in 2023.
another reason is back then, most chinese fanfic writers don't really use ao3, so lots of fanfic for day and night and original sin was on lofter and weibo instead of ao3. and it's a pain in the ass trying to track fic on those sites. but now, most of the shiwang fic would be on ao3. and because shiwang is very loved in cfandom, new fic never stops coming.
i do read western fandom fanfic too, but definitely not as much as the chinese ones ever since i got back into cdramas in 2017.
14. What most of your ships usually have in common?
give me all of the dilfslove or dld (dilf loves dilf) LOL.
enemies to lover is something i always like. though how you define "enemy" would be very different in different ships. i also tend to ship work partners (detective duos; cop & some kind of consultant; villain duos)
15. What you absolutely hate in a ship?
maybe the lack of chemistry? if i can't feel the chemistry between the actors, no matter how romantic or hot the plot is between them, i probably won't ship them.
tagging @bahoreal @xinxiaojie @yohankang @zhivchik @a-very-fond-farewell @randomingoftherandomness only if you haven't done this and want to do it; also tagging any followers who want to do this.
10 notes · View notes
cruel-summerxy · 2 years ago
Text
labyrinth - brad bakshi x reader
summary ➞ ever since brad came out of prison, he has tried to be a better person. when a stranger tests him he decides to be nice and its a good thing he does . word count: 2k words
a/n ➞ I'm back! this is going to be in multiple parts, so yay! I already have the second part started, so I'll probably post it tomorrow! a little gnf cameo in here too. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
based on ➞ taylor swift's song "labyrinth"
you know how scared I am of elevators, never trust it if it rises fast 
Brad isn’t an easy guy to know. Sometimes he wakes up early and does some quick cardio before going into work– other times the only thing the man does is brush his teeth before catching a bus to work. As of lately, it was the latter. He is in a slump. The man is obviously glad that he is part of Mythic Quest once again, even if it was as the janitor (recently promoted as a fucking assistant), but he sometimes misses the chaos. He misses being in the conference room, he misses screaming at a random person who has no authority and therefore cannot help, he misses scaring the new hires. Brad misses all of this and more, but he is a changed man.
Everyday that he had been in prison he liked to imagine that the company had been in pure chaos without him. Now he has tickets to the front row. David had obviously hired new people and those people have no idea who he is. Although he isn’t proud of it, it brings a smile onto his face when he eavesdrops at their conversations. Hearing that deadlines have to be met, budgets having to be readjusted, and whatnot brings him joy now (it’s truly pathetic).
Even though he had been gone for a while, Brad knows that he still has the ability to manipulate those around him. The browned-eyed man was able to prove himself by getting Rachel to take his old job; he tells himself that he had helped her for his own benefit, but the truth is that the girl is smart and he does want her to succeed. Old Brad would’ve rolled his eyes, but new Brad can only smile at what he has achieved (he smiles alone though, he doesn’t want to give the wrong impression to others). He was able to get the workers their bonuses and maybe it was the Christmas spirit but he had been happy and giddy. His happiness hadn’t been unacknowledged, David and Rachel gave each other a look when they heard Brad sing along everyone else Christmas morning. 
Ever since Christmas morning something felt different. So he decides to wake up early and to take a trip to the coffee shop near his home. Brad grabs his lunch bag (he had decided to cook his own food) and makes his way out the door. Even though he lives on the fourth floor, Brad walks down the stairs. He had skipped his workout and he told himself it was better than taking the elevator. 
He can’t help but to whistle as he makes his way to his favorite coffee shop. His body trembles as the breeze comes to him. Even though it is pretty cold, it is a beautiful day. The sun is out, not helping him warm up but it sure does look nice. As he enters the shop he mentally curses, of course there would be a long line
“It’s okay Brad. You have time,” he assures himself. Old Brad would have rolled his eyes and left the place. He would have proceeded to send someone from the office, but alas he was a new man (he also didn’t have someone that could just drop everything for a stupid coffee).
After what seems like forever Brad was next. 
“What can I get for you?” a middle aged woman asked. He stands there wondering what he should actually get. He often opts for a black coffee, but today he craves something sweet. During his time in prison he would often wish that he was sipping a sweet old caramel frappe, with extra caramel drizzle– of course. 
“Could you be any slower,” someone groans behind him. Now, old Brad would have made some remark, but he decides against it. He decides that today is a good day and that it's simply not worth it. So he turns around and sees that it was a woman in her early-twenties who had spoken earlier.
“What would you recommend?” Brad asks with a small smile on his lips. A blush covered the woman, making Brad laugh. She bites her lip and thinks about it. Brad’s eyes stay on her and he is now crossing his arms, waiting patiently for her to give her input. She studies him for a moment before she answers him.
“An iced caramel macchiato,” the woman croaks out. 
Brad then turns without giving her a second glance and loudly orders two iced caramel macchiatos, “one for the lady behind me.” As soon as he is done ordering he positions himself where the woman would see him. Although he was trying to be better, old habits die hard.
“I’m sorry about that,” the lady whispers, standing in front of him. He looks up, pretending that she had frightened him. Brad cocks his head, taking a good look at her. “It’s just that I’m already late for this meeting and you were taking a while to order.”
“You should’ve woken up earlier,” Brad lectures her. Well, so much for not acting like old Brad; he just couldn’t resist it. The lady nods her head and proceeds to stand next to him. The two of them remain silent, waiting for their drinks. She sniffles next to him and he can tell that she is sick. He notices the pack of tissues that are stuffed in her coat’s pocket and even though she has makeup on, Brad can tell that her nose is red.
“You should’ve said a medicine ball tea,” Brad says as he checks the time on his phone. The baristas are taking their time and he is losing his patience. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he was okay with time. She turns to him and sighs.
“Yeah… well I did order that for myself,” the lady confesses, “I kind of thought you were going to order both of the drinks and then leave me without any.”
He turns to her and lets out a laugh, “that's good. If it had been any other day, I probably would have done that. I’m trying to do better, plus I did take forever to order.” 
Her eyes soften up as she hears him talk. Brad notices this and can tell that she is no longer on edge. He is about to say something when the barista calls out his name and their drinks. Brad stands up, rubbing his hands together, he can taste the caramel on his lips already. He utters a quick thanks and strides back to the woman. Their hands touch for a moment as he hands her the coffee. He knows it’s nothing, but he can’t help but to smile at her. 
The woman breaks the little trance that he was in by coughing and now he’s disgusted. He hasn’t gotten sick in years and there he is, shaking hands with someone who clearly should not be going into work, nor a coffee shop.
“I’m sorry, but I really have to get going. Thank you for the coffee Brad,” the lady speaks softly as her eyes come across his name on the cup. 
“You haven’t gotten your medicine ball,” Brad points out. She shrugs and he steps aside and allows her to pass by. Brad stands inside the busy cafe, watching as the door swings and he is puzzled. He hadn’t gotten her name, but he’s certain of one thing: he has seen her before. 
He could wait for a name and a medicine ball to be called, but Brad decides against it. It’s a bit late and he has a meeting to attend to. 
.. 
Brad sighs as he opens a side door. He has taken the stairs once again and now he is out of breath. He hasn’t taken a sip out of the drink that the lady had recommended yet. He spots Jo and shoots a smile at her. The woman scrunches her face and continues walking to him.
“You’re sweaty Brad,” The blonde woman points out.
“No shit. I just walked up six flights of stairs,” Brad thinks to himself. He reminds himself to play nice and shoots her another smile.
“Are you seriously going to keep acting like that?” The blonde woman groans. She has grown tired of the way that Brad has been acting. Jo used to look up to Brad, they would scheme together and now he smiles at everyone. She sighs sadly at Brad, “what happened to you in prison?”
Brad laughs at her question, “nothing. I had a great time there. I’m just a changed man Jo.”
Jo says nothing and leaves Brad’s side. In a way, Jo is right; Brad has changed drastically within the last year. It was for a good reason though. He had become close to those who had worked around him (even if he didn’t show them) and his brother had come in and almost (using this term very loosely) ruined it. One night when he had been in his prison cell, Brad had come to the realization that he had been miserable and rude to those around him for no reason. So now that he is out, the man smiles at his peers, he sometimes helps others, and he is nice to strangers. Life is too short.
Brad slowly makes his way across the floor and hears the people around him chatter. He sits on a random couch to catch his breath. He decides to finally try his drink and a disappointed sigh comes out of his mouth, the macchiato is no frappe. It was no secret that he had a sweet tooth, maybe he should have told that information to the stranger. 
His thoughts are long forgotten and his eyes grow wide. He stands up and he sets down his disgusting coffee; inside the conference room stands the stranger. Brad quickly scans the room and she is standing next to a tall man. He observes them,  his eyes light up and he remembers who the man is. The guy was some twitch streamer– GeorgeNotFound. 
“What a stupid name,” Brad mutters to himself. He had seen some of his streams before, but he hated his streamer name. He had forgotten that Rachel had wanted to add streamers to the Mythic Quest campaign. That’s why Brad had recognized her! He had been researching George the day before, orders from Rachel, and she had been in some of his posts. His heart then drops as he remembers that he was supposed to be in that meeting. 
They seem to be discussing something and before he can think it through, Brad stands up straight and walks into the conference room. All eyes land on him and David lets out a squeak. “What are you doing here Brad?”
Brad ignores him, “Hello, I just wanted to officially introduce myself; I am Brad Bakshi.” He offers George and the stranger a smile. 
“Hello,” a nervous smile decorates the stranger’s face. She extends her hand, Brad shakes it happily. He can hear her sniffling– the coffee he had bought her probably making her more sick. A red tint covers her neck, letting him know that he has an effect on her. He can’t help but to smirk– he still has it. “I’m Y/N and this is George.”
“Well nice to meet you both,” Brad leans against a chair, “I hope you find Mythic Quest good.” He finds himself fixing his posture and his eyes remain on the stranger– Y/N. The woman opens her mouth, but before she can let out a word David begins speaking.
“Brad, please leave. We are having an important meeting and… your services are not needed.” The white man smiles, telling himself that he did good. Brad is about to argue that Rachel had wanted him to be there but ultimately decides no to. 
“Okie dokie. I’ll see you two around.” 
59 notes · View notes
toastingpencils37 · 1 year ago
Text
Ok, so Inktober starts tomorrow, and since I'm participating in two, I just want to go over how I'm posting them and possible exceptions that are probably going to occur at some point.
So, I'm going to try and participate in both the Ninjago Dragons Rising Inktober and the Official Regular Inktober.
Posting:
Since for actually drawing, I'm doing the regular Inktober before the Dragons Rising Inktober, everyday I'll post the regular Inktober first and then the Dragons Rising one later.
The regular Inktober will be in the morning (my first posting round I do every day) and the Dragons Rising one will be my second posting round on weekdays and third on weekends. (Posting rounds referring to the times I'm normally on Tumblr)
On weekends, the regular Inktober will be late by 2 to 3 hours because it's the weekend, meaning I'm sleeping in, and the Dragons Rising one will be 20 to 60 minutes early due to me not having to come home from school.
Fandoms:
The Dragons Rising Inktober, of course, is going to be Ninjago Dragons Rising. Because that's the whole theme of that Inktober.
However, the regular Inktober may vary. Some days it may be Rottmnt, whereas others it will be Ninjago, and it may be something completely different on other days (which is pretty unlikely but may happen).
Falling Behind:
I am doing 2 Inktobers. Meaning, that even with a two day headstart, I'll probably fall behind at some point, with school and everything. When that occurs, the posting schedule will be void unless I can catch up, and in that case, I will post them more so that my posting may catch up, and then the schedule may go back to normal.
Exceptions to Schedule that Don't Involve Falling Behind:
There may be days where I post an Inktober for one but not the other.
Reasons for this will probably be:
I don't care for the prompt provided for that day, meaning I don't want to do it.
I tried, failed, and gave up, moving on to another prompt to keep moving.
I have no idea what to do for said prompt.
If this occurs, there will probably be an announcement on one of the Inktober posts about it. The schedule will remain the same, I just won't post the art for that prompt that day.
If this occurs, the announcement on the other post will look like either of these:
If No Dragons Rising Post: On the regular Inktober post - "There will be no Dragons Rising Inktober post today"
If No Regular Inktober Post: On the Dragons Rising post - "There was no regular Inktober post for today, and chances are, there won't be whatsoever."
Also, if I have something else going on during one of those times the Inktober posts that are supposed to be posted, during that time they will either be posted earlier or later (more likely later).
Regular Posting And Activity:
I will still be regularly active, probably using my Tumblr time as breaks, looking at my following page, reblogging, posting and trying to drop the number of my drafts (which is over 100 right now, due to me rewatching Ninjago and Rottmnt episodes💀)
Anyways, I think that's about it that I want to cover about it.
7 notes · View notes
fantasycorrupted-a · 1 year ago
Text
GET TO KNOW THE MUN!!
TAGGED BY: @heartxshaped-bruises (thank you!! &lt;3) TAGGING: see this? wanna do it? steal it from me!
NAME? Ani
PRONOUNS? she/her
PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION? Tumblr IMs or Discord
MOST ACTIVE MUSE? I like to think my inspiration for characters is balanced; right now I'm writing a novella about Jareth and Rita for fun but oddly enough Fíann has also become a character I can summon fast. Also, Kamael, Luceus and Stefan.
EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS? 9-10 years at this point. I started writing my OCs in rp about 5 years ago and before that I did this for some manga/anime characters I love.
BEST EXPERIENCE? I can't name a single one. I love plotting, I love threads that take turns and involve a bit of conflict (just a bit though) and I love sending stuff to people that reminds me of their characters - the experience in itself is awesome.
RP PET PEEVES? I'll be honest, I thought about this way harder than I probably should've. I don't have many. Extremely long posts to scroll past was definitely one, though they did implement a click to read more to shorten that so it's fine now. Also, agreeing with the mutual who tagged me, the 'reblog from source' thing. A lot of times I have no idea what I'd send sb if they reblog an rp/ask meme from me but folks are free to reblog memes from me. I don't mind!
FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT? Angst, for sure. And fluff. Smut gets the bronze.
PLOTS OR MEMES? Memes are cool and they've given me great ideas but I gotta say plotting. RP is like a collab story to me, and for that plotting is needed.
LONG OR SHORT REPLIES? I've tried writing long replies; it always ends up draining me. I don't like being verbose, you see. Short replies are... well, too short. Even though I'm trying to learn how to be succinct, short replies don't give me enough inspiration/stuff to work with/a kick/what say you. So I'd rather say, medium replies. Not too long, not too short, the best of both worlds.
TIME TO WRITE? Ideally late morning and noon, but if that can't happen I can make it work anytime. Who needs sleep amirite
ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES? Yes and no. A little bit. I've given a lot of them (like Fíann, Rigmor, Kieran) experiences similar to mine, and our music/art tastes would probably align, but that's it. Even Rigmor, whose story is very personal and describes a somewhat bad time I had at some point in life, is still her own character. Even Fíann, although recently I realised how alike we are, is her own character. And even Savash, who supposedly got inspired by me (she, Rigmor and Arvid used to be siblings in the very first iteration of Rigmor's story, but things changed since), is her own character. If they were too much like me it would be boring. I'm writing urban fantasy, not an autobiography after all!
3 notes · View notes
megatownac · 1 year ago
Text
The queue is empty, and it's been a little over four years since that happened. The last time, it's because I was on a two-week trip to Japan. This time, it's because I've quit playing New Horizons.
I stopped playing on September 22, on Ankha's birthday, because I wanted to celebrate that one last time before I put the game down. Since then, I've regained half an hour each day by not playing, and another twenty minutes by not queueing up posts after I got through my backlog on October 1. So it's been about 23 days of having an extra 50 minutes.
I'd been playing for nearly a year for no reason other than to keep getting fuel for posts. It wasn't fun on its own anymore.
I started this blog in September 2013, 10 years and 1 month ago. Since then, I've written over 22,000 posts in just about 3700 days.
When I started this blog, the Animal Crossing world was a lot more active. I made friends with people like @toysleaf and @vivinzenz. I would visit people's towns, and they would visit mine. As years went on, that faded. The blog got a little bit bigger. Just barely, barely big enough that I had to get cautious about what I wrote. I cut out all swearing and off-color jokes. I stopped asking people for things. I made sure never to reveal my political leanings, or my thoughts on current events. It wasn't my place, I thought, and was grateful that nobody asked me to weigh in. I eventually became isolated in my little world, not reblogging anything from anybody, ever, and hoping that maybe eventually some silly joke I made would get viral enough to…
To what, exactly? It's not like I ever made money doing this, and I'd all but given up on making friends. I was just doing it out of habit, out of a drive to see if I could get my follower count to go up. It didn't. I hit the 1500-follower mark back in 2016 or 2017 and never got higher than 1595. My silly jokes, my constant barrage of snarky comments about my day-to-day life, simply weren't popular with some imaginary mainstream Animal Crossing tumblr fandom that stopped existing well before New Horizons came out.
There's still an Animal Crossing fandom out here, of course. Just not one that follows blogs like mine. Do something impressive: create some art, or crochet something, or even design a cool home. Things I was not doing. Things I did not want to do.
I'd like to get back to enjoying Animal Crossing. To playing the game for fun. To playing it with other people, and making friends. But that won't happen right now. It can't.
Remember, I've been doing this for over 10 years. I was in my late twenties when I STARTED this blog, and I knew very well that I was one of the oldest people on Tumblr posting Animal Crossing content. My forties are not far off. I'm old. I feel out of place and weird posting my silly little jokes here when I know that most of the people reading them, and there aren't many who do, are probably quite a bit younger than I am. It's a kid's game, and that's fine. But I'm not a kid, and I'm not posting anything truly creative. Just blogging. Just starting up my game each morning to run around and gather fossils and hit rocks and talk to any islanders I see and snapping dozens of screenshots so I can post them on Tumblr at a rate of 4 or more posts each day.
This isn't goodbye forever. I'm just going on break for now. When something changes, I'll be back.
In the meantime, my main blog, @ratralsis, was active before this one started and is still active. I'm going to try to write there a little more often now that I'm not posting here each day, but we'll see, I guess.
As for here, I don't know what I might be posting here in the next few months. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'll start reblogging things again for the first time in, what, six years? Seven years? I don't know. A long time.
I'm not saying I will. Just that I maybe will. Maybe I won't!
Either way, take care of yourself, and remember that I'm still around and, one way or another, will continue writing on the internet until I am physically unable. I've been doing so since 2001 or so and have never stopped. I've been Ratralsis since 2002 and I needed a name to write on a friend's website (the website is long gone now). As far as I know, I'm either the only Ratralsis out there or the other people with that name don't show up on Google, so, as of today, at least, if you see a Ratralsis out there complaining about Best Buy on Twitter or leaving comments on YouTube videos or posting in the forums on Flight Rising, that's me.
That's all for now.
4 notes · View notes