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silvanable · 4 years ago

Note

If request are open, could I ask for Theo, Vincent, Leo, Arthur and Dazai finding out that MC is a manga artist/writer? Thank you so much!!

this is such a cute idea. as an artist and writer myself i take enormous pleasure it writing this and their reactions.

i switched these up a little bit, where the mc is an artist for one, a writer for another, and maybe both for yet another! i hope you enjoy~

↪ GUIDELINES

ー ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

arthur just happens to find out on accident.

he knew that they had their hobbies and never really pried into that, it was something they did in their pastime just like how he was with his writing.

it just so happened to be that he was passing by the parlor when he noticed them inside with... was that his manuscript? and what were those other papers there?

nosiness curiosity got the best of him as he slips into the room to see what the mansion’s little visitor is up to.

he is, for once in his life, quite surprised to find the dear hunched over a pad of paper with a pencil in their hand.

he was quiet for a moment, examining what they were doing— which was clearly not writing— as their instrument moved over the page.

they shifted to look up at his manuscript, flipped a page, and was about to go back to their work when the noticed something from the corner of their eye.

arthur had leaned over the each of the seat, gaze fixed on the drawings in their lap and strewn about the table and seat.

the poor dear practically jumped out of their skin.

“arthur! don’t scare me like that!” they scolded him, face flush as they quickly tried to scramble and cover up their work.

“ah, was just curious to what you were doing, love,” he would flash them a grin and snatch up one of their papers before they could grab it.

“arthur, give it back!” they yelled in protest but he was far too quick for them.

his eyes scanned over the page, taking in the delicate lines of each character’s face and their expression, the texture and the design of the scenery and then his eyes fell to the dialogue...

“is this... holmes?” the genuine curiosity in his voice as he holds the paper out to them.

they try to snatch the page back but he jerks it up out of their reach before they can.

“yes okay! i’m sorry— i just saw your manuscript and i started reading it and... well, i just got inspired.”

now it has him curious and when arthur sets his mind to something, whether it be to unravel a mystery or get his questions answered, he’s going to get those answers.

after some encouragement, they finally admit to being a manga artist from their time— which as arthur understood was a unique artist who creates art to tell a story instead of words.

he is actually quite proud about the fact that his story is what motivated and drew out this creativity in them to the point they wanted to draw a ‘manga’ of his stories.

he absolutely keeps the page and a few other of their drawings he snatched up, every now and then when he’s working he finds himself drifting off to stare at it with a small smile.

ー DAZAI OSAMU

dazai was a writer and it seemed that the newest guest at the mansion was too.

of course, he never seemed to bring that up, as it seemed the writers of the mansion kept to themselves and wrote privately.

that was until the little darling had come stumbling up the stairs with an armful of paper.

of course they had not been looking where they were going, being rather preoccupied with trying to scribble down god-knows-what onto one of the pages, and walked straight into dazai as he was coming down.

he had acted fast, grabbing their wrist before they could tumble down the stairs, but the paper in their arms was less fortunate and thrown into the air.

“if you wanted to see me, ume-san, you could have just said so,” he greeted with his usual light and teasing voice.

the poor dear was flustered and apologizing profusely as they ducked around him, desperately trying to collect all of their paperwork.

well he was not just about to leave them like that, so dazai stooped to help them, only to find when he tried to reach for something they were quick to snatch it away.

the two made eye contact, both a look of surprise, as they stuttered out, “you don’t have to help— i dropped them.”

the reaction was rather cute but also he felt partially responsible, and because of this it became a game of who could snatch up what before the other.

“i— just— thanks, i’ll take those now!” the dear tried to take the papers from his hands once they were all collected, but the vampire danced around them breezily.

“why is toshiko-san so eager to get these back, hm?” he teased, flitting through what he had collected.

at first it was merely to poke fun, as he and arthur were known to do to people like poor isaac, but as he glanced over the notes and what looked like crude drawings he became intrigued.

those piercing golden eyes came up to a rather flustered person across from him, clearly embarrassed at having their work looked at.

“these are quite interesting,” his tone took on a strange seriousness as he handed them back, “what are they?”

even as flustered as the dear is, they take back their papers and shuffle them protectively in their arms, mutter a, “manga scripts and design ideas...”

of course the term was somewhat familiar to him, briefly recalling it being a rising trend before he died.

would become rather curious and invested in hearing about what the dear did in their time, finding it quite interesting that not only were they a writer but worked with artists to translate their stories visually.

ー LEONARDO DA VINCI

leonardo found it quite cute when he came across their little guest in their free time, seemingly distracted by whatever papers they had in their lap and strewn about them.

it was a reoccurring thing to find them like this as he wandered through the mansion on his way to his next nap.

this time though, that building curiosity of what they were doing finally seemed to reach the max and flood over as he approached them.

they did not seem to notice him from their seat on the floor until he was about a hairsbreadth from the side of their face.

“cara mia?” curse love languages not having gender neutral terms in their ear, causing the poor dear to jump out of their skin.

it was a wonder they didn’t headbutt in him the process and they all but threw themself across the floor to create some distance.

leonardo’s laughter was rather helpful to quell their panic, only for it to swift to a soft rage.

“leo— don’t ever do that again!” they scolded but by now the man had been distracted by the papers that had been haphazardly thrown in the dear’s attempt to flee danger.

golden eyes flickered over the pages as he gathered them up, some written over while other seemed to have sketches of what looked like persons.

they were quick to scramble back up to their feet and snatch the papers from leonardo, their face an uncharacteristically bright shade of red as they mumbled out, “they’re not ready yet...”

though their reaction and expression only seemed to encourage the vampire, after all, things that intrigued him he always pursued to understand investigate.

a soft hum escaped his lips as he looked down at them, only to snatch up another set up papers, ignoring the squeaks and protests to ‘don’t read it yet!’.

there was no getting them back at this point, as he used his height to his advantage against them, holding the pages high as he examined him.

and it suddenly made sense, it looked like a script and these little doodles were scenes from the scripts.

“quite creative, your story here,” leonardo handed back the pages to their flustered creator, “what is it?”

they hesitated as them shuffled the papers, hesitating for a moment before quietly, “a manga idea, something from my time, like a visual story.”

if he had not been intrigued before leonardo most certainly was now and he wanted to know exactly what sort of story they were making.

of course, he doesn’t push but he is more than willing to lend an ear for them to listen to the passionate and eager descriptions of their characters and, if needed, offer a suggest or two when they’re stuck.

ー THEODORUS VAN GOGH

having the lost pup new guest at the mansion following him while he worked was just a way to keep them out of trouble and help him out.

of course, he had never expected them to take such an interest in art as they had, marveling at every little detail, asking questions when they weren’t with a customer, and practically hanging onto every detail theo would spare.

he would never have guessed that everything they had picked up and learned from him on the job they were translating into their own work.

theo was never one particularly nosy and whatever they did in their spare time was their business as long as it didn’t mess with anything or anyone.

so imagine his irritation when they are late for breakfast and sebastian asks for him to go get them?

he walks in, ready to grab them by the arm and drag them out of their room so he might get the chance to enjoy his pancakes for a few moments of peace.

instead, he waltzes into their room finding them pouring over their desk with numerous pages scattered over the surface and stuck against the wall... and most any available space it seemed.

at first he was ready to ask them what sort of mess they were making but stopped as he began to draw closer and examine what they were doing.

it looked like they were... drawing? not that he would judge their strange style, as he was a promoter of the arts that were outside of the norm.

“oi, hondje,” he calls out to them, placing a hand on their head in a familiar way.

the squeak they make is almost laughable but he doesn’t have the chance before they recover and looking up at him quizzically.

“why are you awake so late?” it was a genuine question.

“late? it’s morning already, did you stay up all night?” theo is quick to shoot back, only to receive an even more confused expression.

that answered his question.

“what are you even working on that you would forget to sleep? i can’t have you dozing off at work you know,” he leans down over their desk and they suddenly get shy.

they are subtle, or at least try to be, as they shuffle papers and cross their arms over them, mumbling a soft ‘nothing’.

theo doesn’t take it though and instead turns his gaze up to the art displayed literally all over the room.

before they can even think to snatch drawings away he’s already asking questions, “did you draw these?”

it takes a moment for them to respond, as they mull over a way to answer, but finally cave in to an explanation.

“yeah, i did,” they paused, expectantly staring but theo only waved his hand for them to continue.

“for a manga—something from my time, they, um, tell stories through pictures,” they explained, spreading out the papers on the desk again, “and i got an idea last night so...”

theo is thoroughly impressed, of course they have to explain further about the detailing and techniques— he’s going to ask after all.

there are times where theo will actually watch them draw, he likes to see artists in their element and this is something entirely new he wants to learn more of.

expect that he will have a sketch or two from them, would deny it, but he keeps it in the breast pocket of his coat.

ー VINCENT VAN GOGH

vincent found it quite enjoyable having another person at the mansion, especially with how they spent time with him.

of course he knew they were an artist too, it had come up one day when they were together, while he was painting and they seemed to be doing something in their notebook.

he had asked about their work and if they would let him see but they seemed to get flustered, so he let it rest, after all he wasn’t going to force them.

but still they came around to spend afternoons together, drawing or painting, in silence with the occasional conversation.

one day that they had stayed out rather late in the garden, vincent hadn’t noticed the time passing until it was too dark to continue.

as he packed up his things, he was talking, but got no response back from his friend, and when he turned around to check if they were gone, he found them asleep on the ground.

he felt rather back for not noticing earlier, seeing as the ground probably wasn’t all that comfort and that they hadn’t said how tired they were— he wouldn’t have asked them to spend time outside if they needed rest!

vincent was quiet as he approached their sleeping form, ready to gently rouse them as he outstretched his hand, but stopped as something caught his eye.

in the evening sun, the pages from their notebook were illuminated by the fading sun.

he didn’t mean to pry, truly, but he couldn’t help curiously picking up the book and examining the pages.

some were full of notes, others these beautiful drawings, and more still with a combination of both.

one drawing in particular had caught his eye, a series of scenes it seemed, of someone who looked a lot like him making his way to the gardens and painting...

“mhmm... vincent?” they peeked an eye open groggily, rubbing their face as they looked up at him sitting beside them.

“is it dark already? i’m sorry i didn’t mean to fall asleep—” they sat up, stretching, only to stop halfway through the motion when they saw their notebook in his hand.

they flushed red but vincent only smiled sweetly as he offered them the book back.

“i like your drawings,” he said softly, “they’re very beautiful.”

they were hesitant but took back their notebook, redder if it were possible, as they mumbled a ‘thank you’.

“who were the other people in your drawings?” vincent asked as he stood, holding out a hand towards them.

“uh, well,” they accepted and were pulled to their feet as they explained, “they’re fictional—not real—for a story i was doing...”

vincent cocked his head cutely to the side as he listened, “what kind of story?”

“a visual on, a manga from my time,” they explained as the both of them began to gather up their supplies.

on the way back to the mansion, vincent listened as they explained, he found it quite interesting that someone would paint out a story, but enjoyed the idea.

vincent finds the whole idea quite fascinating and often asks them about their stories afterwards.

they are still flustered to show him many of their drawings, but vincent is sweet about it each time, and has invited them to try painting their ideas on a canvas saying he would love to see how their style reflects.

definitely adores all their drawings, his favorite ones are when they do simple doodles of the members of the mansion, often claiming they’re not great, but he loves them.

absolutely reads their manga stories, whatever they’re willing to let vincent read and he is enthralled by the stories and characters.

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silksandcravats · 4 years ago

Text

Training (part 2) Kylo Ren x You

Summary: Kylo has a long and brutal punishment in store for you after your behaviour this morning. Read part 1 here for context

masterlist

WARNINGS: explicit language, smut, dom!kylo, mean!kylo, blindfolds, handcuffs, collar, anal play, slight painal, mention of caning, wax play, crying during sex, PIV sex, generally a bit rough, aftercare tho don’t worry

A/N: Accidentally deleted this b/c i’m dumb so reposting. I apologise this took me ages to write but it’s here now! and it is LONG so i really hope the wait was worth it! (ps gif is basically a visual representation of what he does to you… you da helmet b.)

You managed to keep yourself busy for much of the remainder of the day. You could have any food delivered to your quarters, but today you ate at the furthest dining hall possible, trying to kill time. But it would seem that the more you tried to occupy yourself, the more you found yourself coming up blank. In fact, you couldn’t seem to remember a single hobby of yours, instead your mind forced you to relive the events of your morning again and again.

You refused to acknowledge any form of remorse for your actions, but you couldn’t help it when the anxious knot that had grown in your stomach seemed to tighten further and further with each passing hour. It was only after you had given up your game of playing busy that you were forced to face your waterloo.

You were sitting on one of the sleek lounge chairs, facing the glass wall that stood between you and the endless mass of glittering stars and indefinite darkness, when the doors opened. You listened to heavy steps enter the quarters, and you closed your eyes for a moment, collecting yourself, bracing for whatever was next to come.

“Come along kitten, we have much to discuss.” He called for you, opting to forgo any pleasantries. You took a deep breath, before standing, following his voice to another room in your quarters. Technically, it was your bedroom, but the room was so large it served multiple purposes, to one side sat a bed, two bedside tables, a door leading to the refresher, and another door to a large closet, on the other side of the room was a few sleek shelves and an excessively large desk a few feet from the wall, and between the two sides, a large expanse of empty floor.

“Bring me your collar.” he said, already holding something in his massive fist you couldn’t quite see.

You nodded, remembering to add a “yes sir” after he cleared his throat, going to collect the black piece from it’s home in your bedside table. You brought it back to him, setting it down in his waiting hand, before dropping your hands awkwardly to your side, unsure what he wanted you to do with them. He noticed this, but offered you no guidance, grabbing your chin and thrusting it upwards so he could fasten your collar around your neck. He was sorely tempted to pull it too tight, to make you gasp and turn your face a pretty shade of pink, but you would need your breath for what was to come.

Once the collar was secured he began undressing you swiftly and quietly, face void of emotion. If he was aroused by seeing you nude, he didn’t show it.

He then circled around you, stalking his prey, stopping behind you he moved to blindfold you, robbing you of your sight and encouraging you to tune into your other senses. Once it was on tightly you heard him take a few steps back from you. You stood there a few moments before you heard him speak.

“Kneel.” The addition of the blindfold made the simple task more complicated, as your sense of balance was altered. You did your best not to tip over as you fell to your knees quickly, you knew he was expecting blind obedience, and if you failed to comply immediately he would roughly push you to the ground himself.

“I must confess pet, I was under the false impression that we were making progress in your training.” He mused circling to your front again. “But your infraction today has made it apparent I have been entirely too forgiving with you. That will have to change.” He paused and could him shuffling next to you and then you felt his hot breath fanning against your ear. “You look so pretty and vulnerable like this baby.”

“Thank you sir.” you purred, grateful for the compliment.

“It’s too bad I have to punish you for being such an insufferable brat.” he sneered, grabbing your ear tightly, and standing. You winced in pain and followed him up as quickly as possible trying to ease the pressure, but he didn’t let up. He walked to the other side of the room with you staggering blindly just behind him. Using only the grip on your ear, he practically flung you forward so you fell against his desk bent over. Your hands coming to catch yourself a bit too late.

He pulled your arms back meeting them just over the swell of your ass and you felt the unmistakable sensation of standard first order cuffs locking around your wrists. You nearly rolled your eyes, wondering what he had in store for you that he felt the need to restrain you. You were left to wait for a while before you felt contact again. His hand reached your ass grabbing one cheek and crudely pushing it to the side, and then you felt his now slick finger prodding against your back door. You squeaked and tried to move forward but there was nowhere to go.

Self defence wasn’t the only training Kylo was guiding you through. He was obsessed with the idea of claiming you- all of you. And that included every hole. The past few weeks he had begun working you towards taking him up your ass, and while you found the idea of it totally arousing, the painstaking slow path towards it was a pain in the ass, literally. You hated the way it felt so cold going in, the stretch was painful, and at the end of it all it felt like there was no real relief as a plug would usually sit ideally in you, taking up space but not providing you the stimulation you craved.

Tonight Kylo had decided to use this distaste for anal training against you. You groaned at the feeling as his finger pressed firmly inside your unwilling hole, sliding right in, two knuckles deep working into you.

“I’ve got a new plug for you tonight little one,” he informed you, pressing his finger all the way in so it sat deep inside you.

“Is- is it bigger?” You asked nervously, trying your luck as you weren’t sure if you were even allowed to talk right now.

“Indeed kitten,” he answered, it seems your question was allowed for now. He continued pushing in a second finger. “I’ve skipped a few sizes, this one’s bigger than you’ve ever taken. And it’s going all the way up your ass.” you shivered at the thought.

He didn’t prepare you much more before you felt his fingers withdrawal and the tip of a cold steel plug pressing against you. You couldn’t help the grunt of discomfort that fell from your lips as you instinctively clenched tightly, denying him access.

“Don’t fight me.” he commanded calmly, pressing harder against you. You squeezed your eyes tightly under the blindfold, your entire face scrunching with discomfort.

“Don’t want it.” you complained. Suddenly the pressure stopped momentarily.

“Fine,” he relented, tone still eerily calm. “Then you can help me put it in. Hold yourself open.” Your eyes flew open.

“I-I can’t.” You tried, holding your cuffed wrists up slightly as an excuse.

“I won’t repeat myself kitten,” he warned. Not wanting to provoke him further, you elected to oblige. With a pink face and shame filling your guts, you pushed your hands back, grabbing your own ass you pulled yourself open, fully presenting your little hole to him. The position was entirely humiliating, but that was what he was going for.

“The little slut can listen,” he mused, once again lining the steel invader with your entrance. When he pressed again you were unable to resist the way you had earlier, and much to your disappointment you felt yourself beginning to stretch painfully in an attempt to accommodate the foreign object. You could already tell this one was a good deal wider and longer than any of the preceding plugs, and you felt all too sorry for yourself as you thought about how your only option was to lie there and take it.

“You are going to learn that I have final say of anything and everything that happens to this little hole, and every other inch of your body.” he lectured, pushing deeper and deeper. “This body belongs to me, you are mine, and whatever happens to you is entirely up to me. I will see to it that you learn to listen to me better than you listen to your own body. I know what is best for my pet, and you will listen to me.”

You let out a small whine as the widest part slipped inside of you, but otherwise the plug was fully seated without much further protest from you. Finding yourself too overcome with shame to fight your situation anymore. Once it was all the way, he took a moment to admire the shiny and excessive jewel at the end of the plug before batting your hands away. You worked to even your breathing as he stepped away from you, you could hear his footsteps echo as he walked across the room.

“Open” he came around to your front, placing something hard and wooden, a cane, between your teeth, you bite down, realising he wanted you to hold the implement. “We are going to try something new today, it is intended to be a punishment, although I suspect being the little whore that you are you will find some way to enjoy it. This is practice for you. It will be quite intense but you will not move an inch because I told you not to. Since it’s so hard for you to follow instructions, you’re going to hold this in your mouth the whole time. If you so much as step a toe out of line, I will cane you until I draw blood, understood?”

You nodded quickly in response to his threat, knowing full well he was not bluffing.

“Good” he muttered, patting your face and moving behind you again. He allowed you to wait in wonder as he worked behind you. Anticipation swirled in your belly as you wondered what new trick he had in store to make you squirm.

Suddenly your curiosity was answered as you felt something scalding hot drip onto the top left of your exposed back. You gasped, but fought against your instincts, remaining entirely still. The burn was intense but short lived, You felt white hot pain for the briefest moment, before the substance cooled and hardened against your skin. You quickly realised he was dripping hot wax along your back.

“How does that feel?” he asked curiously, running a line down a portion of your spine, moving lower down your back towards a region he knew would be even more sensitive.

“Hurts.” you slobbered slightly against the cane holding your mouth slightly agape, fighting your body’s instinct to wiggle away from the sensation. You yelped aloud as you feel a small puddle of wax pool in one of the dimples of your back. Oh how you wanted to arch your back in response. You found that when the wax made contact with the lower portion of your back the sting only halfway subsided when it hardened, a soreness remaining.

Kylo felt himself hardening at the sight of you. You were purring out pathetic little whines every time he splattered more red wax against your poor flesh. You looked stunning like this, clearly so desperate to move but forcing yourself to be still, to be good for him. Ever the sadist, he continued his work until your skin was practically covered, and your little whines had begun to shift into little moans. Though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he was rather proud of your resilience, and decided to reward you by trailing his hand down to your dripping, neglected center.

“Just as I expected. Soaked.” he hummed, spreading your labia to expose your clit and opening to the cool air. “It would seem the little painslut enjoyed herself,” he ran his finger just along your opening, but didn’t give you the pleasure of entering you. “I supposed we better take care of this greedy little cunt.” he withdrew his prodding fingers, moving his hands to your wrist. He released you from the cuffs only to grasp your wrists in one of his big hands. With his other hand he grabbed the top of your right arm tightly, pulled you up so your entire naked backside was flush against his clothed front.

Once you were standing he kept his grip on your wrists but let go of your arm to reach around and pull the cane from your mouth. It was more than a little wet from where you had been holding it in your mouth and you wished your hands were free so you could wipe the drool that had run down your chin.

“I suppose this will be saved for another time.” He muses, tossing the cane to the side. His next move was to release you from the blindfold, granting you sight again. Your eyes immediately squinted and blinked, trying to adjust to the harsh fluorescents of the room again. He kissed down your neck sloppily, overwhelmed with arousal at how well you had taken the experiment. You basked in the shift of attention for a while before he pulled away from you abruptly. You whined at the loss of contact but he shushed you, pulling away entirely letting your hands go.

“Go wait on the bed for me.” He commanded, softly. You nodded moving to the bed still stark naked to wait for him while he undressed. Your attention was once again drawn to the large plug invading your back entrance, as it shifted inside you with every step you took. You wondered to yourself if he would notice if you reached back and pulled the kriffing thing out. But you decided against it as you crawled onto the bed. Of course he would notice.

He hadn’t told you how he wanted you to wait for him, so you opted to lie on your back, propped up on your elbows, watching as he finished undressing himself and moved over to you. He crawled onto the bed, hovering over you, pressing his mouth against you and you kissed back eagerly, opening wide enough that he could poke his hot wet tongue around, exploring your mouth. His hand slid down, grasping your breast and tweaking one of your nipples between his fingers, making you groan into his mouth.

You bucked your hips up into him as he twisted and pulled. “Patience,” he warned against your mouth, moving his hand to give your other nipple the same treatment. You whined, and continued bucking yourself upward against his hardened cock, trying to provoke him to hurry up and fuck you already. Suddenly he ripped away from your mouth, grasping your throat roughly and shoving your head back against the pillows.

“You don’t cum until I tell you. Is that clear?” he snarled, pressing just firmly enough to restrict the blood flow to your head.

“Yes s-supreme leader.” you gasp, knowing the effect his title on your lips had on him.

“Good girl,” he seemed pleased, releasing your neck, moving his hand down between your legs. His fingers grazed past your entrance, but kept moving further down to where the little plug sat, nestled in your back hole. He twisted and tugged at it, to which you responded with more wiggling and groans. “How’s the new toy treating my little toy?” he pulled it out so that the widest part of the plug was stretching you open again and you squeaked.

“F-full sir, really full.” you tried to respond.

“You better get used to it.” he slammed in all the way back in suddenly, making you jump. “When I shove my cock in there soon, you’re going to feel much more full.”

“Please,” you begged, his words making your pussy clench on nothing and your asshole tighten around the plug.

“Please what?” he hummed, watching you practically writhe on the bed.

“Please fuck me.” You sounded so desperate.

“Fuck you?” he asked in a mocking tone, teasing your clit, his touch was feather light but in your state it was enough to make you jerk your hips.

“Yes, yes please.”

“Have you learned anything today, kitten?” His tone is condescending.

“Yes yes! And I’m so sorry I’ll be so good, please.” you word vomit, hoping you’ll say what he wants to hear.

“You’re sorry?” he taunts, lining himself up.

“Yes, yes I’m really sorry!” you plead, shrieking when he slams into you.

“Hmm, I better see if I can fuck any last bits of brat out of you, just to be sure.” He begins pounding into you harshly, finally giving you what you want to feel. The sensation of his cokc ramming in and out of you rapidly is only further amplified by the shiny object plugging up your back hole. You felt entirely stuffed, the feeling was overwhelming. “Look at you, I’m going to make such a mess of you kitten, aren’t I?”

“Y-yes supreme leader.” you moaned, every stroke reaching a new depth within.

“Who do you belong to?” He growled, sweat beading on his forehead as he pounded into you.

“Y-you sir.” You pant. He pulled back suddenly, grabbing both of your ankles, he pulled them up and pressed them back as far as you would stretch. You felt the ache grow in your muscles as he slammed into you from the new angle. “Fuck! Kylo I can feel you in my guts!”

“Shit kitten say my name again. Who fucks you so well?” He growled as trying to get his words out straight as you tightened against him.

“You do Kylo! Shit! Kylo!” you were practically howling, tears streaming down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you. “Kylo, k-kylo please, please can I cum?”

“Hold it.” he moved his hand down toying with your clit, making you scream.

“I-I can’t!”

“You can and you will, what did I just teach you?” He wrapped his free hand around your throat twisting it away from the pillows so he could glare into your glossy eyes and watch you cry.

“Stars! I’m t-trying sir please!” you cried, feeling the familiar knot in your tummy.

“You can do it kitty, make me proud, just a little longer.” He grunted, snapping his hips into you again and again. You cried harder but nodded, watching his concentration as he fucked you into the mattress. He’d make you wait longer, but he was nearing the edge himself.

“Kylo!” You cried, the sensation was building and you knew you couldn’t hold off much longer.

“Shit, come for me angel, be a good girl and cum on my cock. SHIT!” He yelled head twitching inside of you, unloading his seed deep inside of you.

“Kylo!” You cried the knot inside of you exploded and he released inside of you, squeezing again and again as he continued rocking into you. You sobbed loudly, totally blissed out, and entirely overwhelmed.

Finally, his hips slowed, he let out a grunt, not bothering to pull out of you yet, he collapsed onto you, his heavy weight pressing you into the mattress, comforting you. He buried his face in your neck, panting and you weakly reached your arms up to wrap around his neck, still sobbing into his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“I’m here angel, I’ve got you.” He pet your head as you cried his name. You could feel his heartbeat, steady across your chest as you came down. Soon your crying was reduced to slow ragged breaths, and you seemed to re-enter your body, all too aware of the wax still stuck to your back, your wrists aching from the cuffs, your pounding head, the foriegn presence in your ass, and the overall feeling of achiness and exhaustion.

Kylo and his impressive stamina recovered much quicker than you. He pulled his weight off of you, kissed your forehead, and scooped you up, ignoring your noises of protest, he moved and carried you to the refresher. He sat down with you in his lap on the edge of the tub, leaning to plug the tub and turn on the water.

“Did so well kitten, I’m so proud of you.” he muttered, tightening his hold on you, kissing your temple.

“M’sore.” you grumble softly.

“I know baby, here.” He stood and moved you to stand on your feet. You whined again when he let go of you and pressed you slightly to lean over the sink. “Shh, just taking this out.” He hushed you softly, reaching down to work the plug out of you as gently as possible. When more sad noises left your lips, he reached his free hand out for you to grasp. You took it quickly, squeezing a few of his thick fingers in your fist every time you felt a stretch. He let you without complaining, you weren’t really hurting him, especially compared to what he had put you through.

When he was finished he tugged you up into his chest again, and you nuzzled against him. You were still wobbly from being so fucked out, but his tall, sturdy frame took on most of your weight. He ran his hand up and down your back slowly, cooing more praises to you, about how proud he was, and how good you had been. The skin to skin between the two of you was all too comforting, and you felt your eyes drooping shut to the sound of his thumping chest and the sound of the bath still filling up.

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tirsden · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

I feel like I need to say something about this, and ironically I already said what I want to say in Youtube comments, so the following has been drawn heavily from said comments.

At the timestamps of 19:26 and 19:35 of the Cynical Reviews video are two scenes that stand out from the movie, and I remember those textures from the trailer too. If you want to trigger an autistic person on any level of the spectrum, show them those scenes or even a still from the scene. I pulled up Notepad at that point to pre-write a comment and about one-third of the paused video was showing behind Notepad. Even just that much in my peripheral vision was literally making me nauseous as I worked on the comment. The busy, repeating pattern on the wall and costumes is a fucking nightmare.

Before I go any further, I'll mention where I am on the spectrum. I'm high-functioning autistic, the label formerly known as Asperger's Syndrome but I'm guessing they're trying to get rid of that label because apparently Dr. Asperger was cushy with Nazis. Oops. And if that word seems a little too flippant, understand that my seeing the relevant information on Wikipedia was devastating. I've been getting fed up lately seeing that "Aspergers is no longer a diagnosis" because I went 28 years without knowing what was different about me and why the world didn't make sense. I was about to leave a comment on another video, something along the lines of, "You can't take my diagnosis away from me, I have a label and it's mine. Not only is doing so disingenuous to me and people like me, it's disingenuous to Dr. Asperger." Before I hit submit I realized I should go google him before I said something I might regret... and staring at his wiki page, if I had a proper desk close enough to use, I would have been head-desking so hard. I really don't know how to properly put in words how I feel about the whole situation now... though the phrase "this is why we can't have nice things" comes to mind.

Back on the Sia topic and review, after I'd finished composing that bit of comment and watched a few more minutes of the review, I was feeling more and more like I'd been hit by motion sickness. Some of the footage after the timestamps probably didn't help, but my gods... "you haven't even watched my film" = "I DIDN'T EVEN SHOW IT TO ANYONE ON THE SPECTRUM OR THEY WOULD HAVE BARFED." Maybe I'm a little more sensitive than some in the motion sickness / visual trigger department, but come on. That is some horribly tone-deaf cinematography, and that's not even getting into the portrayal of the autistic character.

One of the first things I thought about Maddie's interpretation of autism, is that it's closer to something like Down Syndrome, but I had a Down Syndrome aunt and the comparison still makes me want to throw up a little. Closer does not mean accurate... but, yeah. That was my observation. Cynical's mention of Maddie drawing character ideas from a DiCaprio character with some other type of developmental disorder explains so much now. And I don't blame Maddie for what she was involved in, because it's clear she has an abuser controlling her life. There really isn't any flowery way to say that. It is what it is.

Sigh. What the hell do I even do with this? I love(d) Sia's music, and her episode of Carpool Karaoke was probably one of the most fun things I'd ever watched on Youtube. My favorite Pandora station is based off her song Chandelier, a station I've affectionately referred to as "Dying Cat Radio" due to the sound style of a lot of songs that play on it. Now... I think I'm going to have to delete the station and try to rebuild it via Aurora and similar artists. I do not do well with associations, and I was already on the fence after watching the Music trailer recently. After this review? It's over. And it's another nail in the coffin of "having real people as heroes," especially celebrity figures. Other nails for me have been Mel Gibson, Bruce Willis, and Vin Diesel... and I wonder at what point these people either became so disconnected from reality they lost their "souls," or if they were always like that and we just couldn't see it yet.

As for the associations thing and a big reason why I can’t really separate artist from art, I've only ever seen it addressed once by someone else, in the book Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. In the book, the author briefly describes his character Will Graham as such:

“Graham had a lot of trouble with taste. Often his thoughts were not tasty. There were no effective partitions in his mind. What he saw and learned touched everything else he knew. Some of the combinations were hard to live with. But he could not anticipate them, could not block and repress. His learned values of decency and propriety tagged along, shocked at his associations, appalled at his dreams; sorry that in the bone arena of his skull there were no forts for what he loved. His associations came at the speed of light. His value judgments were at the pace of a responsive reading. They could never keep up and direct his thinking. He viewed his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair made of antlers. There was nothing he could do about it.”

And... I've run out of mental steam, so [insert conclusion here] because I've said what I want to say. The formal writing rules in me are cringing with a closing like that, but it can join everything else cringing over the disaster that is Music. Time to damage-control the migraine that's asking me why I'm staring at a big white thing with little black letters, and why I sat through that review when I knew the footage was not good for me, even just the clips used. "Oof" is right, Cynical Doggo... "oof" is right.

#tirsdenoriginals #sia #music #sia's music movie #autism #autistic #cynical reviews

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.5

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 5 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5

Author: Gumnut

29 Apr - 11 May 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4259

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve been staring at this too long and it is late. I hope I don’t regret posting this. Especially as Alan misbehaved and threw an unplanned scene at me.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom @scribbles97 and @onereyofstarlight for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t sleep long.

Virgil was woken so they could drag him onto A Little Lightning. Scott marshalled him out of his wet clothes, into a shower and quietly redressed his healing incisions. Lunch was demanded and a sandwich shoved into his hand. Coffee was denied him and orange juice substituted.

He found himself dozing at the table.

Mel and Sam were invited for lunch aboard the boat. Gordon was busy being host, but never quite seemed to be very far from Virgil.

Sam mentioned the whales several times, but Gordon shut him down and at no point did he have a chance to corner Virgil.

Virgil felt sorry for the cetacean biologist. He must remember to talk to him at a later time. Once he had finished processing today himself.

The whole experience was otherworldly. He didn’t quite know how to express it. It was as if the music had shape and form, his mind’s eye producing a kaleidoscope of imagery sculpted by sound.

And it meant something.

He knew it meant something, but he couldn’t decipher most of it. Bits were missing, the shapes fragmented, but he did feel the emotion that travelled with it. Multidimensional, the song communicated in a way he wasn’t capable of fully comprehending.

“Virgil, you should go to bed.”

Scott again.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“C’mon.” A hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Mmm...” Musical shapes danced in his mind and he realised there was colour. Greens, violets and yellows. Patches torn from an unseen spectrum. It was frustrating to not be able to pull it all into focus and understanding.

“Virgil?”

It would be interesting to try and paint. Yes, maybe that would be a way to understand it better. He visualised forming those shapes with pencil and brush. Three dimensions...no four. They shifted according to time.

Hell. So confusing.

But he could try.

“Virgil? You with me?”

Huh? He blinked and looked up at concerned blue eyes.

A sigh. “Just thinking.”

“I can see that. You need rest.”

He did, yes, but he also needed to think, to doodle, to work it all out. He caught Scott’s eyes. “Sit with me?”

A blink. “Of course.”

There followed farewells, Virgil pre-occupied throughout. At some point Mel kissed him on the cheek, but he barely registered it. Sam said something but was interrupted by Gordon. Virgil felt completely spaced and somewhere at the back of his thoughts he was embarrassed at his lack of response and manners.

Scott didn’t leave his side.

Gordon made excuses and apologies.

John was speaking to Eos...which meant their guests must have left. Man, he was out of it. Brain overload.

Alan had concerned blue eyes so much like their eldest brother.

The yacht’s engine starting up scared the living shit out of him. It shattered his mindscape with aural static, those careful shapes disintegrating.

“Hey, hey, Virgil. It’s okay.” Scott had his hand on his arm again.

Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest. A blink. A calming breath. A moment. He forced calm. “I’m good.”

He was, really. He just had a lot to think about.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“I’m sure.” But there was something he did want to do. “Come up front with me?”

Scott frowned at him.

“I just want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair.” And get as far away from the engine as possible.

“Sure.” A pause. “But you’re sitting down.”

“Sure.” Virgil pushed himself to his feet.

They found a niche on the bow, enough to sit comfortably with some back support. They could see Gordon frowning at them from the cockpit.

Virgil caught the thought and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Apparently, he was as much a flyboy as his big brother.

The boat was moving at a reasonable speed, Gordon, no doubt, wanting to get home fast due to the day’s events. That and now they were behind schedule and had quite a long, final stretch to make it before sunset.

Raoul was little more than a smudge on the horizon already. Virgil stared at it a moment before turning and facing the wide ocean ahead of them that ultimately would contain their island. Wind streamed through his hair.

“It will be good to be home.”

Scott didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

Virgil snorted. “Missing your ‘bird?”

“Missing land.”

“You spent last night on land.”

“Not the right land.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that. “You seemed quite happy with at least one of the inhabitants.”

That prompted a smile on his big brother’s face. “Fishing for details?”

“Some. Not too much.”

Scott turned to him and shrugged. “It was fun. Mel is an interesting woman.”

Half a smile. “I’ll give her that much.” A curious eyebrow. “See it going any further?”

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “Maybe.”

“Invite her over for Christmas.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Why not?”

“Late notice.”

“You have a Thunderbird.”

That thoughtfulness increased and a slight smile curved his brother’s lips.

“Invite Sam and Liam while you’re at it. We owe them cake. Alan ate theirs.” And Virgil owed Sam an explanation.

That frown returned. “You sure?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.” A snort. “Hell, have them over for a few days. It will give Melissa the chance to check out our ecosystem, she’ll be ecstatic.” A pause and then quietly. “It will give me a chance to speak to Sam about...” A fractured image came to mind and he realised it meant whale. An indrawn breath. Oh god. One concept. He understood something. He could not reproduce it. It wasn’t just sound. It was something else. A combination of visual and auditory. How? His throat froze up. Hell.

“Virgil?”

“I...” The concept tantalised him. His fingers itched for his pencils, his paints and his piano all at once. How?

How?

He swallowed and realised his heart rate was up again. “I...need my tablet...and stylus.”

Scott stared at him a moment before standing up and making his way aft.

It was a sign of how preoccupied Virgil was that his tablet appeared almost immediately in his hands.

He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pulled up his drawing app, his stylus connected with the surface and lines appeared.

Lines. Curves.

Shapes.

Interwoven.

No.

Not right.

The stylus squeaked across the screen.

More lines. More shapes.

The screen became black with them, so he added colour. It splashed and bled across the lines.

“Virgil.”

It still wasn’t right.

Frustration stirred and he groaned at the image.

A blink.

Sound.

He scratched more lines, but the moment of inspiration faded.

He couldn’t do it.

“Virgil.”

It wasn’t a single dimension. It was many. Visual, sound and...and...

Emotion.

How?

It all came back to that question.

He let the tablet and stylus drop, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his face with his hands.

How the hell could he communicate emotion?

-o-o-o-

John squirrelled himself away. Eos had contacted him to give her report, but there was something in her tone that told him not to take it on an open line.

So, he waited until Gordon got the boat moving and Scott had corralled Virgil before retreating to his cabin for some privacy.

“Did you receive a clear enough signal?”

“Affirmative, John. The upgrade to Virgil’s comms worked perfectly. I am confident I received the full spectrum of the whale’s emissions.”

“Any conclusions?”

“Tentative. And at least an explanation why Virgil is so relaxed in their presence.”

John frowned. “Show me.” The tablet in his hand, the same waterproof device he had clung to as they were tossed from the boat, lit up and a hologram hung above it.

It was a series of graphs mapping sound waves, several equations scrolled down one side. The frown on John’s face deepened. That was some seriously complex math. “Talk to me, Eos.”

“Multiple carrier waves interact synergistically to create other waves which also carry data. This is truly a multidimensional sound.” The waves on several of the graphs split up to show their originating structures.

“Can you decipher a language?”

“Not a simple language, no. Initial assessment leads me to believe this is at least partially a graphical language. The mathematics reveal vector information is part of the transmission.”

John’s eyes widened. “Any interpretation?”

The graphs disappeared to reveal fragmented moving lines and clouded shape. “These images are calculated using a section of song the mother whale was singing to Virgil.”

“Can you see a pattern?”

“Not presently, however, I am still analysing. One aspect to be considered is this...”

A second grouping of graphics appeared beside the main display. This was smaller and lacked colour, the lines far more fragmented and the whole composition was fogged with what appeared to be static. “What?”

“That is Virgil’s vocalisation while he was in contact with the whale, if it is run through the same mathematical algorithm.” The two graphics were suddenly overlaid together. Virgil’s section fit like a piece of a puzzle into the larger composition, as if it was an unfinished section awaiting colour.

“How? Why is Virgil picking this up, but the rest of us are not?”

The graphs returned along with one new one. “I retrieved Virgil’s EEG readings from his last head injury.” Lines lit up in red on several of the graphs. “Several of the carrier waves create a binaural beat. The result is that at least part of the whale’s communication is nestled in frequencies that resonate with human brainwave activity. Virgil’s, in particular, appear to align well. I hypothesise that this facilitates his receptivity.”

John stared at the lines denoting Virgil’s delta wave production. A flick of his fingers and the graph overlaid that section of the whale’s vocal output. Delta waves were well known for their calming effect and their influence on sleep. It would definitely explain his brother’s thrall and lethargy during each encounter.

The red lines glared at him.

An exhaled breath. “So, no chance of a translation?”

“Not any time soon. The transmission is extremely complex and I have yet to reveal all of the carrier signals, much less decipher the entire data stream.”

Eos fell silent a moment and John stared at the graphs, watching them move in rhythm with each other. “Why hasn’t this been discovered before?”

“Recording equipment. Of the recordings I have examined, only three have managed to record enough detail to even hint at the complexity. Today’s samples are of the highest resolution ever taken. Further clarity would be achieved with multiple recordings.”

Which meant more encounters. The sight of Virgil singing on the whale was eerie and unsettling. He may have held back Scott from going to Virgil’s assistance, but the truth was he had to hold himself back just as much.

“Is it causing Virgil any harm?”

Eos didn’t answer immediately and it gave John the chance to ramp up his concern just a notch.

“I cannot locate any medical effects beyond a tendency towards inducing sleep due to some of the frequencies involved. I would recommend further monitoring, however.”

“I agree.” An indrawn breath. “Thank you, Eos.” He blinked and realised exactly what his daughter had just done. His eyes widened just a little. “Continue analysis. This is an important scientific discovery and you have done some excellent work.”

“Really?” Her voice was ever so hopeful, ever so young.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to working on this with you.” There was definitely work to be done and soon.

“Thank you, John.”

“No, Eos, thank you.”

Her giggle bounced across comms. Sometimes so old, yet always ever so young. Her youth was always surprising as was her need for guidance. “Could you please send me Virgil’s vitals, both during the encounter and now?”

“Yes, John.” More numbers appeared above his tablet. Fortunately, they were all healthy numbers, though Virgil’s heart rate was up somewhat. A flick of his fingers and Scott’s vitals appeared beside Virgil’s. Both brothers’ heart rates echoed each other.

John would have felt like he was spying on his family, but he did it so often for reassurance on Five that it now barely registered. Another flick of his fingers and he directed Five to focus on A Little Lightning. He found his eldest brothers on the bow of the yacht. Virgil appeared to be drawing on his tablet.

“He is well, John. I can see no after effects from his encounter.”

John wondered if he could coerce his brother into an EEG exam when they made it home. Roping Scott in would probably manage it, but the stress on both of them would be considerable and he hesitated to aggravate either of them.

Perhaps further down the track, or if Virgil gave him any reason for concern.

God, he hoped not.

A sigh. He had probably jinxed himself last night acknowledging the vacation they were on. Since he woke up to Virgil’s snoring early that morning, things had changed. Sure, surfing with Gordon had been fun, but seeing Scott stressing over Virgil on the beach and the events that followed right up until they returned to A Little Lightning had been anything but relaxing.

One of Virgil’s piano sonatas started playing over his tablet ever so softly.

Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m fine, Eos.”

“You’re worrying again. This is not good for your hair production.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Several sources state that stress can disable the pigment production in human hair follicles, resulting in white, often termed ‘grey’, hairs. I believe this is a negatively viewed characteristic and I have noted that your elder brothers have encountered this issue already. It causes distress, therefore it should be prevented.”

Another blink. “Both of my older brothers have dark hair. Grey becomes very apparent in contrast.”

“It will turn your hair pink.”

“What?” This conversation was ridiculous. “It is a natural ageing process. There is very little that can be done about it.” A breath. “I’m not vain, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately. “But your brothers are?”

“My brothers are my brothers, Eos.”

“Well, that makes little sense.”

“Just accept them as they are.”

“Is it possible to accept them any other way?”

“No, not really.”

“Then that statement is redundant.”

“Eos.”

“Yes?”

Frivolous distraction, Eos-style. She had become quite adept at it. Moving his thoughts off worrying topics. A sigh. “Thank you, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but then...

“Did you know Virgil dyes his hair?”

-o-o-o-

Scott watched his brother draw somewhat manically on his tablet. The resultant art was far from what the artist usually produced. This was all sharp lines and angles followed by random blob shapes. At first it was all in pencil, but then Virgil started adding colours. There was no pattern, it was all haphazard and, worse, it appeared to be aggravating him.

“Virgil.”

His brother groaned in frustration, his eyebrows creasing his face in half and swallowing the scar on his forehead.

“Virgil.”

But he suddenly stopped, realisation on his face morphing into disappointment and more frustration.

The tablet and stylus slipped from Virgil’s hands and Scott was hard pressed to catch them.

But he did.

Virgil’s eyes were scrunched shut and he rubbed his face with his hands.

Scott glanced at the mess on the tablet and shoved it to one side, turning to his brother. “Virgil, talk to me.”

“I can’t.” It was small and hoarse.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t...express, explain...trying to understand...it’s a mess...”

Okay, this was well outside his realm, but he knew Virgil. He slipped off his seat and knelt in front him. Gently he pulled those hands away from his brother’s face to reveal worried brown eyes. “Stop. Take a breath.”

Virgil stared at him a moment before the soft command was obeyed and he drew in air. Those eyes closed briefly and his brother’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I ruined it again. I’ve stressed you out.”

“This time, I don’t think you had much say in it. Mamma Whale was very determined to say hello.” A small smile. “I think you have a music fan.”

Virgil snorted softly and Scott knew he’d broken through even if just a little. “She definitely wanted to talk. I just wish I knew what she wanted to say.”

“You picked up something, though, didn’t you?”

A quiet sigh. “She was happy and surprised.” Virgil looked up and stared out into the ocean, but Scott could tell he wasn’t seeing the waves.

He wondered what he was thinking.

“How could you tell?”

The frown returned. “I don’t know.” A pause caught in thought. “The sound makes me feel? The sound is...everything.”

Virgil stopped speaking, lost again to whatever was in his head.

Scott swallowed and tried a different tactic. “I think you made a mistake.”

Brown eyes snapped to him immediately. “What?”

“You should have asked Mel out. Lost opportunity, bro.”

Virgil stared at him. “What?”

“She had the hots for you, Virg, and you ignored her.”

“Last time Raoul erupted? She tried to climb me like a tree. Kay had to drag her out of the cockpit.”

It was Scott’s turn to stare. “Really?”

“She was very exuberant in her thanks.”

Scott smiled. “She knows what she likes.” And yes, admittedly, she was very good at climbing, after all Scott was taller. His smile widened.

Virgil’s stare intensified until plain, straight human communication got the message across and his brother groaned. “God, Scott, TMI.”

Total innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. The image is radiating off your skin.”

Scott sniggered.

Distraction achieved.

“Well, I did say you lost an opportunity.”

“That’s fine, Jungle Jim, she’s all yours.”

Scott shrugged. He could always hope. She certainly knew how to press all his buttons. “Still think we should have her over for Christmas?”

“Yeah, Gordon will love it.”

“What about you?”

“I need to speak to Sam.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” A breath. “Just take it easy.”

His brother nodded and returned to staring out at the ocean. “It will be good to get home.”

Scott stood up slowly and sat back down beside his brother. “Yeah, it will.”

So good.

-o-o-o-

“Are we there yet?” Alan’s voice was particularly whiny, no doubt, specifically designed to irritate.

Gordon turned away from the helm to look at him. “Do you see an island in front of us?”

Alan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope.”

“There’s your answer.”

It had been quiet on the bridge for the last few hours. Gordon was grateful for the time to think. A Little Lightning cut through the water ever so smoothly. It was satisfying to see the swell pass by knowing that they were one wave closer to home.

Gordon loved being out on the ocean. It was his native element. But at the moment he longed for the safety of Tracy Island. That last encounter with the whales had its own sense of wonder, but until he understood exactly what the effect was on his older brother, he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

It was weird and unnerving.

And it worried him.

“They been out there long?” Alan was staring at the two men sitting on the bow of the boat.

“Yeah, couple of hours at least.”

“Do you think Virgil is okay?”

No. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Alan eyed him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need protecting. Since when have you become one of them?” He pointed at his eldest brothers.

Gordon sighed. “I’m not. It’s just...I don’t know, okay? It was weird and amazing and I need to talk to him and he was spaced out and his singing was...”

“Weird?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment, but Gordon knew it wouldn’t be long.

Sure enough.

“Do you think Virg can talk to whales?”

“I don’t know, Alan.” It was said on one long exhale.

“He communicated something, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know, okay?” And that was the problem. There was so much they didn’t know. Gordon was itching to get into the in-depth literature, to find out more and fill the gaps in his knowledge so he could help his brother. He would be speaking to Sam as soon as possible, but for the moment, the priority was getting Virgil home.

“Some vacation.” It was said with a pout.

Gordon sighed and shoved on the autopilot before turning to his younger brother. “Alan, out with it.”

“What?”

“What’s bugging you.”

“I thought that was obvious. Virgil going zombie and singing to a whale is enough, don’t you think? As if appendicitis wasn’t dramatic already.”

Gordon stared at Alan. “He is going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You just said so!”

“He sang to a whale, Alan. They are one of the gentlest creatures on the planet. If he was going to choose a weird conversation partner, he chose well.”

“But you don’t know what it did to him!”

“It didn’t do anything to him.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Alan-“

“Don’t lie to me!” The words shot across the bridge and slapped Gordon in the face.

Voice calm and quiet and not a little hurt. “I have never lied to you, Alan.”

Blue fire glared at him. “You haven’t? Not even to protect the littlest one? Scared I might burst into tears.”

Gordon stared at his little brother. “What is it?”

“Have you?!”

“No! I’ve always told you the truth. You know that!” He let out an aggravated breath. “What is wrong, Allie?”

“What do you think? First you, then Virgil, and now this!”

“What?!” Him? Virgil? Oh...shit. “Virgil is okay. Hell, I’m okay. Allie, we are all fine.”

“That’s what he keeps saying!” Alan shoved a finger in Virgil’s direction. “He’s always fine, even when he’s not. You’re all the same. Big tough guys, nothing is ever wrong. You could be bleeding to death and you’d ‘be fine’. What is wrong with admitting you’re hurt? What is so wrong with being hurt that you have to hide it?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Well, you know what? I’m scared and I’m sick of hiding it. Virgil nearly fell out of the damned sky with his infected appendix. It could have killed him. And now he’s scaring everyone with this whale thing.” A harshly indrawn breath. “Don’t tell me Scott’s not worried. I’m not stupid.”

Two steps and Gordon was in front of his brother, his hands landing on shoulders that were just that touch higher than his own and tighter strung than Virgil’s piano. “Allie, he’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it is true.”

Something unintelligible and Alan was wrapped around him like a limpet. Gordon held his little brother. It was unusual and alarming. Alan usually went to Scott for comfort. Gordon was for pranks and cohorting. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be worried. You can cry if you need to.”

“I’m not going to cry!” Alan pulled away and glared up at Gordon.

“What?”

“Now you think I’m the baby that needs to bawl on your shoulder?”

“What?!” The hell was going on? Some conscious part of his brain was aware of the yacht’s engine, the high speed they were travelling and the fact autopilot on water was vastly different from the sky and he really should be paying attention. But Alan needed...something. “Allie, you’ve lost me. What do you want?!”

“I want Virgil to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

“We are okay!”

“Then stop scaring me!”

“I didn’t scare you!”

“You....you terrified me, Gordon. You terrified all of us.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still hurt.”

“Aww, Allie...” What could he do?

“And now, here you are ‘okay’, and it could happen again, and...” A shaky swallow. “I’m scared, okay? You’re fine. Virgil’s fine. But you’re not, and...I’m not okay...okay?”

This time it was Gordon wrapping his arms around his not so little brother. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

Muffled into Gordon’s shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“No.” But he should have realised it was still messing with his little brother. Alan was the least experienced of them all. Gordon had seen things, done things, things that hopefully Alan would never have to experience. Quietly. “I think Virgil is a little freaked out. I don’t think he understands what happened much more than we do. But we are going to find out. I’m going to speak to Sam. We’re going to do some research and we will find out why the song affected Virgil the way it did. But he is okay, Alan. Tracy’s honour. A little shaken up. A little worried. But he is okay. We’ll work through this like we always do.”

His brother’s arms tightened around him just that little bit more, but Alan didn’t say anything.

A rustle of fabric and Gordon looked up to see John standing in the doorway staring at them with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“John?”

Alan startled and pulled away immediately. Turquoise followed his every move.

A slow blink and John stepped onto the bridge. “Eos is deciphering the song. We have a good idea as to why Virgil reacted the way he did.” It was said calmly and factually for such a great discovery.

“You do?” Alan found his voice first.

Those eyes latched onto Gordon’s. “We do.”

The helm beeped.

A blink and Gordon was back at the wheel, scanning their position. A mass of volcanic rock and tropical reef appeared on navigational sensors.

A familiar chunk of rock and reef.

Tracy Island.

Home.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Five.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #kermadec fic

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hallowraith · 4 years ago

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Thank you for your reply to my ask last night! It was very enlightening, inspiring, and most of all, encouraging! I'm still a bit nervous especially since I suck at drawing enviroments, but I want to try anyway. I had another question though as I looked at obat's characters it came to mind; do you have advice or thoughts on how to effectively design characters? Thank you for your reply in advantage!

(Whoops sorry for the late response! I’ve been, busy) I’m glad! Honestly I feel you on environments, I’m much more of a character artist so it’s all still very new to me as well. Good luck on your own endeavors depicting different locations! As for character design, here’s a few tips I can think off the top of my head: 1) Try theming your characters after your world / story and vice versa. Ask yourself: what would make sense in this world? What WOULDN’T make sense, and can that be integrated in an interesting way? The world of OBAT is fantastical and alien, not to mention has a concept where other aliens from other universes can be warped onto it, so I have a lot of leeway when it comes to what characters can exist in it. I primarily stick to what I find interesting though; which means a lot of reptiles, monsters, and object heads. I know that I have the opportunity to add more variation, so I think keeping metaphorical doors open is good too when designing characters. Feel free to experiment with different things and you might surprise yourself with what you end up liking to draw. But don’t be afraid to self-indulge! It’s your characters, make them fun for you. 2) Combine concepts. A ton of the most popular characters today are shockingly simple, either in design, themes, or both. Make a list of stuff you find visually or theoretically interesting. Then start combining things and sketching out what the “hybrid” of those concepts would be. You can then add personality and a backstory to fit their place in your story. Example: Zenith’s design is basically just a bunch of different pterosaur species’ features cobbled together + the color palette and wing structure of a Lunar Moth. I thought it would be cool to reconstruct pterosaurs with winged insect patterns, and that idea eventually became the character.

3) Sketchpages are your friend. Just dump it all onto a canvas. Draw whatever shapes and features make your heart go doki doki. (For me that means a lot of fluff and angular edges).

4). REUSE. OLD. OCS. Got an old, “edgy” oc you still think is pretty neat? Got a design you either made or bought and want to use? It’s time to get to recycling! Writing is your friend again here, make a list or sketch of all the features / qualities of that character you’d like to retain or reuse, and start plugging them into a new OC or another existing one. There is no shame in giving your old characters new life, and it’ll save you a lot of trouble if you’re trying to fill roles for your story and are in need of inspiration. Example: “Hitchhiker” is a Sycan incarnation of an old OFF OC from half a decade ago. I still draw him in his original form at times, but I’m hard at work integrating his successor into future chapters of OBAT.

Also Astro originally was just a sona without any associated story.

Biomechs, a species I co-created with a friend, were originally part of an intricate AU that slowly morphed into its own story. Their existence in OBAT is really more of a cameo (considering they have their own ‘universe’) but it’s also a good example of re-using concepts.

5) Accept change. Your characters’ designs WILL evolve over time as you draw them. This will simply be a result of repeated refining of the art, or deliberate changes to improve their look. Even if you dislike drawing an OC at first, it’ll get easier and better looking over time!

I hope that helps a bit! Thanks for the ask and good luck!

#long post #info #art advice #characters #resldue

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archadianskies · 5 years ago

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Sea glass

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Monday Day 1: Confession / Flowers; post-revolution Ralph/Bellini Paints Jerry

Deviancy isn’t a jarring, violent event for him. Deviancy bears no trauma, no sadness, no weeping like an open wound unrepaired so unlike the jarring violence he watched on the news.

Deviancy was slow and steady and gentle; the removal of a wall brick by brick. His entire life is this store, its walls lined with jars of pigments and illuminated with soft ambient lighting. All the cherry lacquer cabinetry has a pleasing rosy hue to the wood, and the polished brass knobs and handles aid in the stately, regal aesthetic of the brand.

He was purchased for Mr Giuseppe and Mrs Francesca Bellini in 2028 by Alessandro Bellini, their son, who had no interest in carrying on the family business. What began as menial help unpacking stock and keeping things tidy soon grew into him helping out at the counter and measuring precise pigment orders.

As the Bellinis aged he took on more and more responsibilities, and never once were they unkind to him, never once did they treat him as a cold unfeeling machine like so many others. Once the store closed, Francesca would sit him on a chair in the tiny tea room and wrap a knitted shawl around his shoulders to keep the chill at bay.

He learned to make them tea the way they liked it, and that the bakery further down, Essie’s, had sweet pastries that paired well with their tea. Giuseppe would pat his hands sometimes, a distant look in his eyes as he smiled a distracted smile.

He felt…calm with them. He felt feelings, good ones, whenever they interacted with him. He learned the names of the regulars, including the famous Carl Manfred who seemed very good friends with them both.

Death doesn’t affect androids the same way it affects humans, but he learns grief is the same. Giuseppe dies one Autumn eve in 2031 and he misses him like a missing biocomponent. Bellini Paints does not feel complete without Giuseppe Bellini.

A year passes and Carl Manfred gets into a horrible vehicle accident and can only manage online orders. One day an android turns up to collect Carl Manfred’s order. He does not look like any other android he has seen, nor any on the CyberLife catalogue. He has a gentle, friendly demeanour that is at odds with the methodical, purposeful behaviours programmed into androids.

The years trickle by, soft and slow and gentle like rain off rooftops.

A revolution happens and rocks America to its core and yet at the same time it seems like nothing has changed at all. Life goes on. Francesca leaves the city with her son well before the President’s orders but he gets her messages, her daily little ‘make sure you put on your shawl at night’s and ‘sleep well :)’s.

He comes to Jericho for the celebration of the Sentient Life Act and finally interacts with others of his kind and they ask him for his story, for his name. Vincent, he says, like Vincent Van Gogh because his hair is sunset red and he’s always liked his paintings.

They are alive, beautifully, colourfully, joyfully alive and he knows he is one of the lucky ones. Deviancy has been beautiful, colourful and joyful for him when it was harsh, cruel and sudden for others. Most bear their scars inside, but others have them carved in their casing. Human cruelty is as boundless as their kindness, varying by luck alone it seems.

One such android he meets on a late afternoon in the alleyway behind the store as he’s disposing of the delivery boxes. He’s a WR600 with a heavily scarred face and a damaged eye, immediately brandishing a knife when he realises he’s been spotted.

“It’s alright.” Vincent slowly sets the boxes down and holds up his palms in surrender, letting the skin recede to bear the white plastic beneath.

“O-oh you’re-” the android nods rapidly, red LED cycling down to yellow. “Sorry, Ralph doesn’t like humans. Humans aren’t nice to Ralph.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ralph. I’m Vincent.”

“Vincent. Vincent. Vincent.” He repeats softly under his breath, as if committing it to memory. “Humans keep you here?”

“No.” He shakes his head with a smile. “I stay here because I want to.”

“With humans?”

“Yes.” A nod, a sigh. “Well. One human now. There used to be two.”

“Humans are fragile.” Ralph nods rapidly, distracted. “Soft.”

“Can I help you? Would you like to come inside?” Still ensuring his movements are slow so as not to startle him, Vincent gestures at the door and opens it wider. “It’s cold out here, and there’s heating inside.”

“No human?”

“No human.” He reassures with a nod, standing aside so Ralph can peer into the storeroom and confirm for himself. “She’s with her son. She’s old and will come back when Detroit’s a little warmer.”

“No human.” Ralph nods rapidly and shuffles inside. He’s clutching a worn book in his hands, and the broken pastels Vincent had thrown out the other day since they were unfit to be sold. Ralph catches his line of sight, and nervously holds out the book. “When Detroit’s a little warmer.”

It’s an old worn notebook most likely salvaged from trash, pages waterlogged and creased but what few pages remain have been transformed into intricate garden plans.

“Ralph will plant seeds again. Grow things, nice things, big green things and flowers too.” His smile is bright and contagious, and Vincent finds himself smiling too. “Good good things.”

“Where will you grow your garden, Ralph?”

“New place, here, see? Ralph will grow them here.” He flips over to a different page and there’s a meticulously replicated map of Detroit city. “Here, by the bridge. Good size, near friend.”

“You’re friends with Theobald?” Vincent’s smile grows. “The brewer?”

“Good friend! Ralph is good friends. He’s very nice. Lets me sleep inside the brewing room. It’s very warm.”

“Did you need more drawing supplies, Ralph?” The other android nods enthusiastically. “Here, I’ll fetch you more. And a nicer visual diary, for when you run out of room.” He’s not sure if he’s allowed to give things away, but he’s considered alive now and he’s worked here for years so surely Mrs Bellini won’t mind? He chooses a tin of coloured pencils and a lovely brown leather diary with 200gsm pages. “Here.”

“For…Ralph?”

“Yes.” Vincent nods. “And you can come show me your progress, does that sound like a fair trade?”

“Ralph can do that!”

The snow melts away into Spring, slowly but surely, and that means during the transition between seasons there’s lots of rain and heavy slush. Detroit’s human citizens grumble and groan about how bleak the weather is but Vincent rather enjoys it from the cosiness inside Bellini Paints. Cold Winter weather and wet Spring weather are rather ideal conditions for staying inside to create art and so he’s kept busy filling boxes, attaching the smaller ones to drones and stacking the larger ones for the delivery team. Every so often he’d find Ralph waiting by the back entrance, fidgeting in the shadows and darting nervous glances until he let him in.

“They’re starting to bud! See? See!” Ralph excitedly shows him detailed drawings filling page after page; photographs replicated in pencil almost as if they belonged in an encyclopedia.

“You draw so beautifully, Ralph.” He compliments with a smile and Ralph flashes him an ecstatic grin before it wobbles into something a little shy, a little self-conscious.

“Ralph just draws what he sees.”

“How beautiful.” He says, and he feels like he’s not really talking about the way he sees plants anymore.

It’s a soft, fair afternoon and he’s left the back door open to let in the warm breeze and carry out the smell of paint that somehow lives in the very walls. There’s a faint scratching noise which would be unsettling to most but Vincent knew the origin well.

“Hello Ralph.” He greets before he turns around, and there’s Ralph scratching his hand across the doorframe in his shy anxious way of knocking. “Come to show me an update?”

“Ralph brings gifts.” His voice is a little unsure, a little nervous and Vincent smiles encouragingly.

“Gifts?”

“Ralph traded for them, Ralph made posters for Theo.” Enthusiasm flashes across his face and he thrusts out a neat carry case of four bottles. “Ralph and Vincent can drink them! We can do like the humans do!”

“Oh, is this Tearium?” Setting the pack on the breakroom table, he carefully extracts one of the glass bottles. “I’ve only had this once, when the Sentient Life Act was passed and there was that big party at Jericho.”

“This one is special.” Ralph nearly bounces with excitement. “Special special! Special for Ralph! Theo made it for Ralph!”

“Then let me get the special cups.” Vincent declares, opening the cupboard and taking out Francesca’s lovely tea set; a gift from her son when he traveled abroad. “What flavour is it?”

“Ralph won’t tell! It’s a surprise!” Ralph giggles, hands flapping as if barely able to contain his excitement. Carefully pouring them an equal share, Vincent raises the dainty bone china cup to his lips and takes a tentative sip.

Tearium is usually meant to be charged through a small device to heat it up, but even at room temperature the beverage is pleasant to consume. The coding spreads over his tongue and he tastes apples and cinnamon and a heaping of honey, like an apple pie that’s been turned into a drink or, well, he supposes that’s what it is since he’s not built to eat things.

He likes it, and he likes that he likes it very much because liking things is in itself an act of deviancy and one to rejoice in.

“It’s wonderful Ralph, thank you for sharing.”

“We can do like the humans do.” He says again, only his tone is different, like he’s nervously seeking approval from him.

“We can, Ralph.” Vincent nods, smiling as Ralph sips his own drink. “The two of us having a cup of tea during our break, like Mr and Mrs Bellini would do.”

The words come out of his mouth and they taste… like something he’s never tasted before, like this drink that’s new and wonderful and sweet. It fills him with warmth in the same way, and Ralph’s smile isn’t so wobbly from nerves it’s small and hopeful and shy and Vincent thinks he likes it very much.

“Oh Vincent, where is your shawl?” Mrs Francesca Bellini chides, tutting at him as she shuffles around looking for the knitted article. “You know it’s still chilly by the time we close, even if we’re almost into Summer.”

“Yes Mrs Bellini.” Vincent smiles apologetically. “Let me fetch it from the breakroom, I left it on the back of one of the chairs.” It is exactly where he left it, the yarn soft and pliant under his hands and it is a joy to touch, to hold after all these years because it belongs to him, because it was made for him and no one else.

Draping it around his shoulders, he re-enters the store only to find Ralph frozen still in the doorway, Francesca curiously looking at him from behind the counter. The android is clutching something behind his back, good eye wide in shock and LED bright red.

“Can I help you young man?” Francesca blinks, making a beckoning gesture. “It’s alright, I haven’t closed the banking off yet.”

“R-R-” Their eyes lock and Ralph steadies himself. “Ralph is here to see Vincent.”

“Oh! Well he’s just- there you are.” Francesca pats his shoulder approvingly, nodding at the shawl tucked around his shoulders. “Shall I leave you to close up? Alessandro will be here soon.”

“Yes Mrs Bellini.” He confirms with a small smile and she looks at him, scrutinises him for a moment before looking over at Ralph. She must see something he doesn’t because she smiles suddenly, a big bright smile that makes her eyes crinkle. She pats his shoulder again before leaving through the breakroom and out the back.

“You’ve never come through the front of the store before, Ralph.” Vincent comments as Ralph seems to use all his willpower to put one foot in front of the other until he’s standing opposite him, the counter between them. “It’s good to see you.”

“R-Ralph brought these. For you.” He thrusts a colourful bouquet of flowers at him, such an array it reminds him of an artist’s palette. When he accepts the bouquet, the realisation spreads through him like warm apple and cinnamon Tearium.

“These are the flowers you’ve been growing.” Vincent murmurs, and somehow it’s a beautiful joy and a beautiful hurt in his chest all at once, like an ache but a good kind. “Is this your update, Ralph?”

“We-we can-” he stammers, LED still red but determination in his eyes and perhaps maybe even some sort of yearning too. “We can…do like the humans do. Like your humans. The good ones. We can be together like them- if- if you want?”

“Yes Ralph.” Vincent smiles, reaching over to gently cup his palm against his damaged faceplate and he’s never been broken, never been ugly to him; his face is like sea glass, something buffeted and struck down and polished into something beautiful. “I want that very much.”

#dbhrarepairsweek #dbh ralph #dbh jerry #detroit: become human #annie writes: dbh #sneaking in the first entry in the last half hour of my bday!

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catholicartistsnyc · 5 years ago

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Meet Indiana-based Artist Daniel Mitsui

DANIEL PAUL MITSUI is a Hobart, Indiana-based artist specializing in ink drawing on calfskin and paper. His work is mostly religious in subject, inspired by medieval illuminated manuscripts, panel paintings and tapestries. www.danielmitsui.com

CATHOLIC ARTIST CONNECTION: Where are you from originally, and what brought you to Hobart, IN?

DANIEL MITSUI: I was born at Fort Benning, Georgia, where my father was an infantry officer. I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, and lived in Chicago for most of my adult life. About two and a half years ago, I moved with my wife and four kids to Hobart, Indiana, which is sort of the easternmost edge of Chicagoland.

How do understand your vocation as a Catholic artist? "Catholic Art" can mean a number of different things: art that happens to be made by a Catholic, whatever it is; art that communicates Catholic ideas and values; art that explicitly treats the Catholic religion as its subject; or art that is considered "sacred" art, meaning that it is intended to communicate religious truth and to assist prayer.

Most of my artwork is of this last kind, so I understand my task as twofold. First, I do my best to follow an established tradition as far as composition and arrangement are concerned. Sacred art should corroborate sacred scripture and liturgy, and the exegesis of the Church Fathers - because it too is a means by which the memory of Jesus Christ's revelation is carried forward through the centuries.

Second, I do my best to make the art as beautiful as possible, because the experience of beauty is a way for men and women in a fallen world to remember dimly the prelapsarian world, and to grow in their desire for reunion with God. As I wrote in one of my lectures:

It is important "not to consider sacred art a completed task, not to consider any historical artifact to be a supreme model to be imitated without improvement. To make art ever more beautiful is not to take it away from its source in history, but to take it back to its source in Heaven. Sacred art does not have a geographic or chronological center; it has, rather, two foci, like a planetary orbit. These correspond to tradition and beauty. One is the foot of the Cross; the other is the Garden of Eden."

I am Catholic, and an artist, so I have no objection to being called a "Catholic artist.” However, I do not want to make an advertisement of my personal faith or piety, to suggest to other Catholics that they ought to buy or commission artwork from me because of the sort of person I am, rather than because of the artwork's own merits. An artist who would make an advertisement of his personal faith or piety has received his reward.

At this time, my personal mission is to complete a large cycle of 235 drawings, together making an iconographic summary of the Old and New Testaments and illustrating the events that are most prominent in sacred liturgy and patristic exegesis. I call this the Summula Pictoria, and I plan to spend the next twelve years of so working to complete it, alongside other commissions. I already have spent more than two years on it, mostly on preliminary research and design work.

Where have you found support in the Church for your vocation as an artist? The Catholic Church is of course much more than its institutional structures; it is all the faithful. Most of my patronage comes from private individuals rather than parishes and dioceses. I do receive some commissions from ecclesiastical institutions - in 2011 I even completed a large project for the Vatican - but I do not go out of my way to secure them. In ecclesiastical institutions, there tend to be committees involved, and a whole lot of politics; the usual result is that an artist spends time preparing proposals, reserving his most interesting ideas, and just fighting for permission to make the best artwork possible. I feel sorry for artists like architects and sacred musicians who, by the nature of their medium, have to do this. I avoid it whenever possible.

I choose to make artwork that is small enough and inexpensive enough that private individuals can commission and buy it. I think this may be the future of Catholic art patronage; there is not much reason to think that ecclesiastical institutions will be able to provide it much longer. You can look at the demographic changes, at the money lost both through diminishing donations and lawsuits because of clerical scandals, at the amount of artwork already available as salvage from closed parishes - none of this suggests that ecclesiastical institutions will become great patrons of new sacred art any time soon.

How can the Church be more welcoming to artists? I think that sacred art should have four qualities: it should be traditional and beautiful, as I said already; and it should be real and interesting.

What the clergy and theologians of the Church could do to help artists is to advance an argument for art that has these qualities. They have not advanced this argument much lately, and a good number of them probably don't even believe it.

By "real" I mean that sacred art ought, at least as an ideal, to be made by real human hands or voices. Music sung or played in person is a different thing, and a better thing, than an electronic recording. A picture drawn by hand is qualitatively superior to picture printed by a computer. There is at least a rule on the books that liturgical music needs to be sung or played live, not off of a CD, but even there a lot of fake things are broadly tolerated: bell sound effects played from speakers in a tower, or synthesizers dressed up in casings to look like pipe organs. Visual artists don't even have this sort of rule in place for them. Printing technology - both 2D and 3D - is now so sophisticated that I worry about it displacing human artists, without the clergy or theologians objecting.

I fear that some time soon, one of the great artistic or architectural treasures of Christianity will be ruined - more completely and irreparably than Notre Dame de Paris - and that in response to demands that it be rebuilt exactly as it was before, living artists will dismissed from the task as untrustworthy. Instead, a computer model will be constructed from the photographic record, and everything will be 3D printed in concrete or faux wood. Once that happens, a precedent is set, and living artists and architects thenceforth will compete, most likely at an economic disadvantage, against computers imitating the old masters.

I don’t oppose reproductions themselves; I have digital prints on display in my own home, and I sell digital prints of my own artwork. I listen to recordings of music. I do oppose the idea that these can, in themselves, provide a sufficient experience of art and music. I oppose the idea that sacred art and music can be fostered through attitudes that would have made their existence impossible in the first place.

By "interesting," I mean that art and music should command attention. So many Catholics have gotten it into their minds that the very definition of prayer or worship is "thinking pious thoughts to oneself.” They close their eyes and obsess about whether they can think those pious thoughts through to a conclusion without noticing anything else. With this mindset, art and music are praised as"prayerful" simply for being easy to ignore. Art or music that are particularly excellent are condemned as "distracting.”

This, really, is wrongheaded. Distractions from prayer are foremost interior, the result of our own loud and busy and selfish thoughts. Sacred art or music that draw us out of our own thoughts, that make us notice their beauty, are fulfilling their purpose; they are bringing us closer to the source of all beauty, God.

I can't remember the last time I heard a living priest of theologian say as much.

How can the artistic world be more welcoming to artists of faith? I don't really think that it makes sense to speak of an artistic world as opposed to any other world, at least when it comes to sacred art.

This art is meant to be in churches, or in homes, or in any places where people pray - that is to say, anywhere. It belongs to everyone. I have no objection to seeing my artwork in galleries or museums, but I don't seek out those spaces; I try to make my artwork available to anyone, as directly as possible.

How do you afford housing as an artist? The medium in which I chose to work - small scale ink drawing - does not require a very large working space, and uses no toxic materials or dangerous equipment. So really, all I need is a room in which to work. It doesn't need to be a space outside the home, or away from my kids.

So affording housing as an artist is, for me, the same as affording housing in general. I moved to my current home after my wife and I decided that our family was too large to stay in apartments any more; we have four children, and wanted a yard of our own for them. We wanted to be near Chicago, but everything on the Illinois side of the border was too expensive. It took about six months of house hunting, and one temporary move, before we found what we wanted, and we had to borrow most of the money to buy it. So I don't know that I should be giving out advice, except perhaps to urban artists who are "apartment poor" like I used to be, not to let that situation go on too long.

I advise any artists who are still early enough in their careers not to be wedded to a particular medium to consider how their choice of medium will affect what sort of living space they will need eventually, especially if they hope to have a family. If you want to paint pictures or make prints that require pigments or chemicals too toxic to have around young children or pregnant women, that is something you should be prepared to deal with in advance.

How do you financially support yourself as an artist? My artwork is my livelihood. About half of my income is from commissioned drawing, and about half from print sales, licensing and book royalties. I do teach, write and lecture on occasion, but this is not a significant part of my income. I've never had a residency or a grant, and I do not seek them out.

I've had my own website, www.danielmitsui.com, since maybe 2005, and use this as the primary means of displaying, selling and promoting my work.

What are your top 3 pieces of advice for Catholic artists? In one of my lectures, Heavenly Outlook, I gave three pieces of advice to anyone who want to appreciate or make sacred art, and I will repeat them here:

First, never treat art like data. Second, be guided by holy writ and by tradition itself: liturgical prayer, the writings of the church fathers and the art of the past. Third, do not consider sacred art a completed task. Do not consider any historical artifact to be a supreme model to be imitated without improvement. Please pray for me, and for my family.

#daniel mitsui #hobart #indiana #visual art #artist #catholic #catholic artist #catholic artists #catholic art #art #catholic artist connection

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their-name-is-morgan · 5 years ago

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Yelooo... How about a "You've kissed me about fifty times today" with Okuyasu? Please

Hey! Sorry for the delay, I hope this is worth the wait though❤

Meant to be (You’ve kissed me about fifty times today)

Okuyasu x Reader❤

The sound of your phone ringing was what woke you up from your 2 hours log nap, which you hadn’t planned to take seeing how you were laying on the couch in the most uncomfortable position, with your laptop still on your stomach and the bag of chips you’d forgotten to put away now on the floor.

You lazily grabbed your phone from the coffee table and a gentle smile adorned your face once you were finally able to read the name of who was calling you at 7 in the evening; you pressed the green button on the screen.

“Hello, is Okuyasu there?” you said, doing your best to sound serious, until you heard a small ‘Huh?’ and couldn’t keep a straight face anymore, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“I called you- wait, are you pranking me?” he asked, and you giggled one more time at how easily he’d get confused at this kind of things.

“Yeah, yeah! What’s up though?” you finally asked, genuinely curious. He’d usually call you in the early afternoon or he’d just stop by if he needed something, he was your boyfriend after all, so you didn’t mind having him around.

He excitedly explain –you could tell he was smiling, even through the phone- that he was free the following day and that if you didn’t mind he had something special planned for the both of you. The following day being a Sunday, you didn’t have much to do as it was everyone’s lazy day, so you informed him that you were free also.

“I was thinking that I could pick you up at 5_30? In the afternoon- but it’s okay if you prefer earlier or later!” he quickly added, and you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“5 is fine by me, are youuu planning to bring me to that nice Trattoria you work at?” you asked, picking up the bag of chips and placing it on the small table, “Or some other place I don’t know about yet? Or wait- don’t tell me, I want it to be a surprise!”

You heard him giggle at your behaviour, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“It’s a surprise babe, I don’t wanna ruin it for you! But… wear something nice- agh, no wait, wear whatever you want! Y-You’ll look nice anyway!” your cheeks flushed, although you hadn’t missed how he was speaking more quickly than usual. You decided not to mention it though, as you guessed it was because he had something on his mind regarding your little date.

“Alright then, impress me, handsome!”

“Woah, that’s an exaggeration!” he stammered, and you rolled your eyes playfully;

“It isn’t, when will you stop putting yourself down?” you gently scolded him, staring at a picture of the two of you which you had saved on your laptop; you even had an entire folder dedicated to various selfies you and Okuyasu took and pictures of you two in general.

“How abouuut…when you will?”

The cute conversation went on for a while as you tidied your living room, which started to resemble a garbage dump less and less. You said your goodbyes after agreeing with each other that it was starting to get late, and you both still had to make and eat dinner, and you assured him that you would’ve been able to talk later.

The next day, you woke up excited; it wasn’t exactly early in the morning when you opened your eyes, as they widened when you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, which read 12:36 in the afternoon. You let a small sigh escape your lips, maybe playing video games until ungodly hours wasn’t that good of an idea when you were supposed to wake up early and go on a date later…

Nonetheless, you still managed to cook lunch, change into a much more fitting attire and, as any other independent and responsible adult would do, watch videos on YouTube until it was time to leave with Okuyasu –whom picked you up at 5:30 with his brand new, black Nissan Note instead of his motorbike, and gave you a kiss first thing after yelling an ‘Oi, Y/N!’-.

“So,” you started, buckling up the seat belt, “You’re starting to use your car more?”

He shrugged as he started the engine,

“I mean… it was a gift for my 18th birthday, so I might as well use it. Plus…isn’t it more romantic to drive you somewhere with a car, instead of a motorbike?” he asked, causing you to snort.

“I guess so, your motorbike isn’t bad though- it’s just that the damn helmet always messes up my hair!”

“Hey, I thought that was just my problem! Why the hell didn’t ya tell me sooner? I’ve felt so alone this entire time…” he jokingly admitted, pouting slightly as you rolled your eyes and let out another giggle.

The 20 minutes drive seemed to fly by as you chatted about all, you were so engulfed with the conversation that you almost didn’t notice the beautiful scenery out of the car window- you guessed he was taking you to a restaurant with sea view.

As you finally arrived, he parked his car and gently placed a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from opening the door.

“W-Wait, let me get that for you.” He said, getting out of the car and making his way to your side so he could open the door for you. You felt your cheeks and ears getting warmer as he even held your hand so he could help you stand up.

“That…was so sweet, Oku,” you said, beaming. His own cheeks got crimson and he quickly kissed you on the forehead, your hand still in his.

“Ah, u-uhm, yes, let’s get in, shall we?” he questioned and you nodded, a smile still on your face, partly because of the flustered state he was in.

He lead you inside, and you couldn’t help but notice how fancy the place seemed to be. Each table had a thin, white tablecloth, utensils and blue handkerchiefs placed on it, the wooden floor was so clean that you could almost use it as a mirror, and the pure white walls had been painted on, intricate drawings of the waves and fish –the colours that had been used were soft blues and greens, though- catching your attention immediately.

The restaurant was quite busy, with waiters and waitresses fast-walking from one side to the other, carrying any sort of dish. Your mouth watered at the sight of your favourite food getting served and you couldn’t wait to order something yourself.

Okuyasu seemed to notice this and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by one of the waiters,

“Ah, welcome, miss and mister! Did you book a table?” he asked, a polite smile on his freckled face. Okuyasu took a step forward,

“Uuh, yes, a table for two.” He quickly replied, and he nodded.

“Very well, your last names please?”

“Oh! Nijimura and L/N,”

“Let me lead the way!”

The two of you let him guide you towards one of the tables in the back, from where you could clearly see the sea and the clear sky without anything that could block your visual. You sat down in front of each other and the waiter handed you the Menus, informing you that he would be back soon to take your orders. You both thanked him and smiled, seeing how he had been nothing but sweet.

After a few minutes you were ready to order; you decided to eat your favourite meal while Okuyasu settled for caprese salad with pesto sauce –in honour of Tonio, you guessed, and he grinned when you asked him-.

“This is a fancy restaurant, by the way. Did you see how much some of the stuff costs? I hope the dessert isn’t too expensive, I forgot to look at the prices of that-“ you glanced at your boyfriend and he shook his head.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, it’s my treat!” he reassured you, he was being very sweet. You wondered why as you kept talking to each other; maybe he had a surprise for you? He was dressed so nicely, too- he wore a dark blue blazer with a white buttoned up shirt underneath, dark blue trousers and elegant black shoes. You panicked for a moment realizing that maybe you should’ve worn something a bit more elegant, too…

When the food finally arrived it was already 6 pm –understandable since there were so many people to serve, so you didn’t complain- the sound of people talking and utensils clattering filling the large room you were in, as you and Okuyasu started to talk about how good the food tasted and how nice the place was, to then move on to how both of you were pretty much settled with the job you had –Okuyasu had brought that up, a smile on his face, and you went along with it but you didn’t miss the fact that his nervousness had started to increase-.

As the sun started to set, causing the sky to change its colour from a bright blue to pink and red hues, and the sea gradually became calmer, you glanced out of the large window, sorbet in one hand and straw in the other to support it every time you would take a sip. Said window was slightly opened, and you couldn’t complain about the fresh breeze, which was making your hair gently move without messing it up as you feared.

“Thank you so much for taking me here by the way, Okuyasu,” you said, your smile growing as his cheeks tinted pink once again.

“That is…really the least I could do for making me the happiest guy in Mor-“ ‘Shit, no, I’m fucking this up- Morioh is so small!’ he mentally scolded himself, “…the happiest guy in the world!” he responded, his hands nervously shaking despite the weather being sunny and the temperature being quite warm.

“Hey, I could say the same, find me a guy who can make me laugh with his dumb jokes and then takes me out to the most romantic dinner ever,” you said, placing the small cup made of glass on the table, both of your desserts –he had ordered choco strawberry cone flavoured ice cream, as always- finished.

“I thought I was enough, though!” he joked, and as you laughed he leaned forward to quickly kiss your nose. You quirked as eyebrow.

“You’ve kissed me about fifty times today, why is that?” you couldn’t help but ask, though you kept smiling.

“That- might be because I wanted to tell you something very important,” he started, taking your hand in his. You weren’t sure why, but your breathing quickened. You feared it was something bad, but then again, Okuyasu had always been so sweet, why would he take you out and then tell you something that’d make you cry?

“Go on, I’m all ears.”

“S-So, uh, you know I’m no good with words but… we’ve been dating for years and…in these years, I realized that I was so dumb in high school, I was jealous of Josuke because he had all those girls surrounding him and nobody really cared about me,” he took a deep breath, his gaze never meeting yours, his eyes wandering in any other direction, “That is, until I met you, and I realized that…it…didn’t really matter anymore, how many girls were interested in me, or whatever. Because, I mean, why would it when you’re here by my side? And I know this was probably really simple and maybe it sounded stupid,”

He stood up, careful not to make a fool of himself by tripping or making something fall. Meanwhile, you finally realized what was going on, and your heart began racing as you noticed him getting closer, hands clenched in his pockets, and everyone else silently staring at you, almost expectantly. He kneeled on the floor, making everyone –including you- audibly gasp. You didn’t even try to hold back the huge smile on your face, and it seemed to be the same for Okuyasu.

“…but I don’t think I need anyone else with me, when we’re together, s-so… Y/N, amore mio,” he finally whipped the ring box out of his pocket, and opened it, revealing a gorgeous engagement ring that you couldn’t wait to have on your finger, “Will you marry me?”

You, at a loss of words, simply bobbed your head up and down, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, while Okuyasu was already in tears the moment you nodded. He quickly stood up and you threw your arms around his neck, embracing him so tight that your chests were touching and your head rested in the crook of his neck, while his rested in yours. You could hear the people cheering as Okuyasu broke the tight hug to slide the ring onto your finger, only to sweetly kiss you afterwards, his cheeks still wet with tears and his lips slightly quivering.

Once you could finally speak again, you chuckled, and he tilted his head in confusion.

“Did Tonio teach you that?”

“W-What?”

“Amore mio. It means ‘my love’ in Italian,”

He raised his eyebrows in realization and he, strangely enough, looked away,

“Well, yeah, he did, but I’m also…kind of learning Italian? On my own?”

You let an almost inaudible ‘Wow’ escape from your mouth and he seemed proud of himself, as he slightly smirked.

“That’s so cool, should I expect a wedding speech in Italian then?” you questioned, half joking and half serious.

“Hey, don’t expect too much from me now!”

“Nah, don’t worry.” ‘I only expect you to be the best husband ever. I know you will be.’ You though, as he excitedly told you your next destination- the Arcade.

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #okuyasu #Okuyasu Nijimura #x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #Diamond is Unbreakable #gender neutral reader #okuyasu x reader

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libralita · 4 years ago

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Truths and Roses have Thorns About Them | Chapter 6

Beginning | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: The Marchen Tavern draws in many strange characters from all across Angielle and beyond. While it may bring wonder and mystery to those who stop, it does make keeping staff members a challenge. However, Fella Treslyn is up to the task of being the Marchen’s new cook. But is really ready to deal with all the antics it has to offer?

“What a brilliant day! The sun is shining, the town is full of laughter and my sweet Fella here to accompany me.”

Fella covers her mouth to keep from laughing. “Rumpel, must you say that every time we go into town?”

Miss Karma had not come out of her room in several days. Miss Parfait would be the only one to go in to talk to see her. It kept gnawing a the back of her mind. However, during her breaks Fella still wanted to go into town. Rumpel asked her to go with him to by medicine for Annice. He eventually wore her down enough that she agreed to go.

Rumpel was nice company but she could feel him keeping an eye on her. He wanted her to hold his arm and stay close to him. Unlike the freedom of what Miss Karma offered.

At least she did not have to carry bags.

...Okay, she kind of missed carrying the bags.

“This must mean that you are paying attention to my words! That in itself is a compliment, Fella.” Rumpel said, sounding happy.

“If you say so.” Fella chuckled, though it was a little forced.

Rumpel let out a sigh. “You are still worried about Karma?”

“Of course I am, she hasn’t come out of her room in days.”

“Miss Parfait is keeping an eye on her,” Rumpel assured her, Fella sighed but continued on their journey. They were on their way to the usual store to restock the medications when Rumpel stopped.

“Uh…Rumpel?” She asks softly.

“Madam!” Oh, gods. “I can’t help but notice the pained expression upon your beautiful face. Is there anything I can do to assuage your worries?”

He really was a relentless flirt. While Karma was unreasonably annoyed by the flirting, Fella found it kind of…endearing. He had said he wanted to make every woman smile and he did that by flirting. Though it became a little awkward when Fella was on his arm and he refused to let her go. “For seeing your lovely face shadowed by such sadness stabs me right in the heart.”

The woman made a surprised sound and there is a moment of silence and then Rumpel feels tense. What was going on?

“Oh, I’m sorry—” Rumpel begins.

“It’s you!” A woman’s voice cuts him off. She…knows him? Rumpel could not remember anything of his past besides that he was a doctor. But…this woman knows him?

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…”

Fella tried to tug on Rumpel’s arm but he didn't seem to recognize that she was doing it. “Um, this is awkward, madam, but I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

“…What?”

“Or…do I? Do I know you?”

Fella cleared her throat. “Sorry, Miss but my friend is cursed. He has amnesia.”

“Amnesia…?” The woman is quiet for a moment. Stop being so quiet! I can’t follow along! “You do seem…different. Changed from before, in any case.”

Rumpel sounded surprised. “So you knew me before? How terrible it is of me to forget such a lovely face! But perhaps you could help me remember…?”

“I can. I can help you remember.” By the woman’s voice, she did not seem affected by Rumpel’s usual flirting. Fella was starting to get worried. This seemed like Rumpel was putting himself in a dangerous situation. This woman could take advantage of him!

“You…you can?” Rumpel asked, sounding...strange.

“It’s…no wonder I can’t remember your name. You have the Fairytale Curse, don’t you? And…you truly don’t remember me?”

“I…I’m sorry.” He sounded truly sorrowful.

“I’m Bria. Your fiancée.”

His…WHAT?

Both Fella and Rumpel were taken aback by the announcement. “My…fiancée?”

Rumpel let go of Fell and took a step forward. “You don’t remember holding my hands like this when you took me to the forest and proposed to me?” Fella heard no response from him. “I loved you, you loved me. And I still love you very much.”

“I-I don’t remember this,” Rumpel says, still sounding confused.

“How can I help you remember?”

Rumpel’s voice is faint, but still, he tried to sound cheerful. “Uh, the circumstances of the curse tell me that I need to remember through memories and um, a journal, somehow…”

“A journal?” Bria’s voice was forced to Fella's ears. “I have your old journals. I can show you the very first love letter you wrote to me.”

“Ah—wait—!” Fella heard them walking away but it sounded like Rumpel was trying to go back to Fella. “I need to escort Miss Fella back to—”

“Don’t worry about me, Rumpel.” Fella said, shaking her head. “I can go get the medicine and get back by myself.”

Rumpel made sounds of protest before Bria convinced him that Fella was fine. Fella stood there and listened to their fading footsteps.

Fella rushed back the Marchen. She asked if Miss Parfait or Miss Delora were around. Miss Parfait was busy with Karma so Delora was her only option.

“Miss Delora!” She said, going up to the witch.

“What is it, Fella? Did you add an extra grain of salt to the—”

“Delora.” Fella complained. “I was getting medicine with Rumpel and this woman came up to him. Her name is Bria and she claims to know Rumpel and she says she’s his fiancée!”

Fella imagined Delora was giving her a very strange look. “Fiancée?”

“Yes!”

Delora started laughing and Fella’s shoulders slumped. “That flirt has a fiancée?” She said through laughs.

“Yes, but Miss Delora, what if she’s lying to him? What if he’s in trouble?” She said tugging at Delora’s sleeve.

Delora patted Fella’s head like she was a silly child. “Don’t be so worried, Fella. I’m sure it will be fine. He’ll get his memories back one way or another.”

“I feel like you aren’t taking this seriously.”

“Dear, Parfait, and I have been helping with curses longer than you have.”

Fella was about to argue when she stopped. Helping with curses? “Does it really count if it’s just one? And really only a third of one?”

Delora snorted. “That’s the thing about this job, sometimes you have to pretend to be a doll on an ice princess' shelf and then curse her to make sure she doesn’t become a monster. Other times…you do more subtle ways.”

“…”

“Go make dinner.”

Fella was done sitting around and doing nothing. Not only had Karma continued to stay in her room but now Rumpel seemed to be…off ever since meeting Bria.

She tried to push back the self-doubt and feeling of uselessness as she began making the cupcakes. You can do this! Miss Karma loved these cupcakes and it showed that Fella cared about her. Right?

“Focus.” She told herself, tying her apron on.

“Focus.”

“Dion!” She cheered grinning. She saw him every once in a while but they were both busy with work. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“My own payment is being a taste tester.”

Fella did most of the work—obviously—she just had Dion make sure her measurements were right. When there was lull in the baking process she went up to him and gave a loving smile. “Wonderful, amazing cousin?”

“What?” He said, not falling for it.

She took something out of the freezer it was white chocolate in the shape of a chameleon and edible paint. “Pleasseeeee?”

Dion groaned but took the paint and white chocolate. He didn’t show it often but he was a really talented artist…apparently. Fella did not have an appreciation for the visual arts. Though he had painted the pictures in her books to make her be able to feel them.

“Hey…Dion?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you…read me a story when you get a chance?”

“Is it a fairytale?”

“Yeah.”

Dion chuckled. “Sure, Fella.”

Fella smiled as she continued to work. “Dion, what do you know about this place?”

“The Marchen? Only that it’s full of cursed people and Miss Parfait is a fairy.” Dion said and then asked. “Is it really that strange?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Fella finished her cupcake. It was a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting. Fella had used the frosting to make it look like a flower on top. Dion had helped her paint it orange and yellow. Apparently Miss Karma wore those colors a lot. Then she stuck the green lizard on top. She put away the other cupcakes and then placed Miss Karma’s in a box.

After thanking Dion, Fella went upstairs. Her heart was beating rapidly as she stood in front of Miss Karma’s door. They needed to talk. Something was going on with Miss Karma and she was worried about her friend.

She knocked on the door. “Miss Karma…?” She called softly. When Fella said her name she heard rustling. Drawers being opened and then footsteps to the door.

Suddenly Fella was pulled harshly into the room and the door was shut behind her. “What are you doing?!”

“Why do you do this, Fella?” It was Miss Karma’s voice but it was angry.

“I…I came to speak with you.” She said, trying not to squeeze the box too harshly but she was starting to get nervous.

“Why? Because you’ve been doing everything by yourself lately? You come to complain? Or giggle and gossip about that man.” Who was she talking about? Rumpel? Klaude?

“No, I wanted to check on you.”

“Fella, can’t you read the mood?” And then suddenly two bare arms stretched on either side of Fella, pinning her against the wall. She felt the heat from Miss Karma’s body. What was she doing? Fella felt something cool on her hands, she had accidentally squeezed the cupcake and now the wet cardboard was falling to the floor.

Miss Karma’s voice came out in a harsh tone. “Why? Why aren’t you struggling and attempting to run away? Or beat me with your cane?”

“You…you aren’t dangerous,” Fella said she was surprised how even her voice sounded.

“Then you know nothing about me!” Miss Karma said, her voice sounding harsh but there was a…sadness in it.

“No, I don’t…but I am your friend and I want to help you. I can’t when you keep secrets.”

“Help me?” Her voice is sardonic and bitter. However, he sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “Secrets are secrets for a reason, Fella. You should know that. If I could speak about them I would. But I can’t. And you trying to poke your nose into my business is only making it harder.”

Harder?

“Fella, you cannot imagine what this feels like. And that woman! I’d thought she was the one to break my curse. Her smile was as bright as the sun…” Fella was becoming confused. It briefly reminded Fella of when Rumpel received his first memory. Where he was in another place, thinking of other people. “That’s why…never again…but then you ruined everything, Fella. You—”

I ruined everything? Fella immediately moved to get out of Miss Karma’s grasp. The other woman stumbled back. “I am not going to be blamed like this. If you wish to be alone then enjoy yourself.”

Fella moved to leave. “Fella, wait!” But she continued out the door and back to her room. Fella tried to cover her mouth to stifle the sob building up but she is met with frosting and cake. Now her face, dress, and hands covered in remnants of cake. The sob escaped her lips.

Fella wasn’t sure how long she was sulking in bed but she heard the door open. “Hey, Fella.” Dion’s soft voice said. “I leave you alone and what happens? You end up crying in your room with cake all over yourself.”

“I was not crying.” She said, stubbornly. “Just sulking.” He left the room for a moment and comes back with a tub of water and a cloth. Warm water washed away the cake on her face and hands. She changed her dress to her nightgown.

“So, I do have to punch Karma?”

“You are not allowed to hit women.”

“There are always exceptions to the rules,” Dion said chuckling. “Are you allowed to have these fairytales here?”

“It doesn’t seem to be a problem,” Fella said, she could tell he was trying to hint that he could read to her now if she wanted. She scooted over in her bed. “Can you get the Beauty and the Beast one.”

“I thought you didn’t really like that one,” Dion said, still taking the book and laying next to her. “Something about how horrible it would be to be stuck with the beast.”

Fella chuckled. “I met someone who has this curse. I want to remember more about it.” She said softly. She listened to her cousin's deep voice read the story. About a selfish prince who was turned into a horrible beast. Then a beautiful woman falls in love with him to break the curse. Fella felt the pictures. The soft strokes of Belle. The harsh brushes for the beast. The smoothness of metals of the rose. Dion truly was an artist.

Eventually, she fell asleep.

“Is everything okay, Fella?” Annice asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” And she kind of was. While she was still a bit upset as to what happened the day before, she wasn’t going to let that get her down!

As they were prepping the kitchen, Fella heard the kitchen door open. “Oh! Good afternoon, Miss Karma.”

“Hello, Annice.” Miss Karma’s voice was more pleasant than before but it sounded…tired. “May I have a minute alone with Miss Fella?”

Annice agreed and quickly left. Neither of them spoke, the only sound was Fella chopping.

“Fella, I am sorry for what happened yesterday.” She said and then she sets something on the table. Money? “And I am sorry that I caused you to smash your cupcake when I…Well, here is some money so you can get a new one.”

“I didn’t buy it. I made it.”

“…Oh.” She sounded ashamed. “Then I am sorry again that you could not enjoy it.”

Does she…not realize I brought it for her? “Miss Karma, why would I bring a cupcake into your room to talk to you?”

“I…don't know?”

“I made it for you, and I wanted to give it to you last night to help make you feel better since you were acting so strangely,” Fella said. She hesitated and then she moved and took out the leftover cupcakes.

“Fella…you made these for me?”

She sounds so surprised. So unsure of herself which was strange for Karma. Fella took one and offered it to her. “You don’t get the white chocolate topper.”

Miss Karma hesitates for a long time before gently taking it. “This is…like the one at the shop with the little chameleon.” She said and there is some joy in her voice.

“It’s to also thank you for being my friend.”

“Fella…” Miss Karma’s voice is soft. “This is absolutely wonderful. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think I can eat it.” That last part was a half-hearted joke.

Fella chuckled, taking a cupcake for herself. “And I forgive you for last night.”

“Thank you.” She said. “Is there anything you want that I can give to you?”

Fella could tell she was really trying to sound better, however there was still this sadness to Karma that made Fella's heart ache. She did not like to know that the people she cared about were upset. “I…I want a hug?”

“Huh?” Karma sound genuinely surprised at Fella’s request. Miss Karma gently took Fella’s cupcake out of her hand and then took Fella into her arms. Fella wrapped her arms around Karma, smelling her sweet perfume. This did not feel like a hug she would give one of her sisters or mother.

“Something like this?” Fella nearly shivers at hearing Karma's voice in her ear.

“Ye—” Miss Karma made a distressed sound and broke the hug. “Miss Karma are you alright?” It was like the day that she cut Fella’s hair. Like she suddenly felt something painful.

“Not…now.” She muttered through a strained voice.

“What’s wrong?” Fell asked, worried. She moved to put a hand on Miss Karma’s back. It feels like she's clutching her chest again. Does Miss Karma have a heart problem? Or does this have to do with her curse?

“Ah, Fella…don’t…don’t worry about it.” Miss Karma straightens up.

You ruined everything. Miss Karma’s voice from last night played in the back of her mind. “Am…am I causing this to happen to you?”

“No!” Miss Karma says quickly. “Most definitely not. I was…feeling under the weather. And…and also bitter.”

“Bitter…?” She tried to think back to when Miss Karma had first acted strangely. “Because of…Jurien and Garlan…?”

Miss Karma did not respond to that. Instead saying, “It’s nothing for you to worry about, darling. For now, I should let you get back to work.”

“Wait, is…is there anything else I can do for you?”

Fella felt Karma gentle pat her head. “No, sweet girl, you’ve already done enough for me. I will enjoy your cupcake.”

Fella thought that Miss Karma’s voice sounded a bit more genuinely happy. “It is a day old though.”

“It will still be brilliant.” She said. “Thank you, again.”

Miss Karma bid her a farewell and Fella decided to eat the cupcake. It’s…actually really good! Perhaps it is the fact that she made up with Miss Karma that made it taste that much sweeter.

#cinderella phenomenon #klaude almonte #Karma Cinderella Phenomenon

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bewitchingwitch · 6 years ago

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Constellations pt. 7

Hey y’all this I my first fanfic and since I’ve been obsessed with Newt Scamander lately I decided to do a series about him depending on if this part gets good reviews

Word count: 3,190

If you really want some Theseus Feels listen to lie to me by 5 seconds of summer

The Minister of Magic was standing in Theseus office as you both walked in, hand in hand, and she did not look happy. She was scowling, but despite that still looked beautiful as a powerful figure of authority should. She had long golden hair that was inches away from skimming the floor, it had a series of interact braids weaving in out. "Ah it seems our lovebird chose to sleep in zee morning." She had a French accent as if English was her second language.

Her icy blue eyes surveyed over you both noticing that you were walking hand in hand and that Theseus had a protective stance. You were both still standing in the door way. Theseus dragged you forward and closed the door, if a scene went down he didn't need the whole department to know.

She moved closer to where you both were standing her heels clicking on the hardwood. "I would think our head auror would know better than to show up late, especially when zee knows that she was expecting zeem this morning." She seems to slur some of her worlds but he remarks still seemed to strike Theseus painfully.

Theseus quickly dropped your hand, and bowed his head in apology. "I'm sorry Minister. I should have known better than to be late."

"But Theseus-" he shot you a look urging you to keep your mouth shut.

"I lost track of time, it's as simple as that."

The Minister had a look of distaste on her face. You always assumed the Minster of magic was a man, but it seemed you were mistaken, and wrongly so. This women seemed to be far more intimidating and powerful than any wizard.

"Hm lost track of time Theseus? Are you sure you weren't just, how do you say fooling around with your new "trainee."

Theseus' ears turned bright red and you felt yourself heat up and cast your gaze downward. "I would never do something like that on the Ministry's time." Theseus was defiant, but the Minister could see right through him.

She leaned towards him and whispered softly so that you couldn't hear. "But I bet you'd love to fool around with her on your own time. I zee the way you look at her your thoughts aren't so innocent chéri." She smiled wickedly as she pulled back, leaving you baffled at what she said to Theseus.

Theseus was red with both anger and embarrassment. The Minister moved to lean on Theseus' desk, still addressing him. "I shouldn't reward you for your unacceptable tardiness but, there is no one who is capable other than you two to carry out this mission for me."

You stepped forward to stand even with Theseus and looked at the Minister as her smirk grew wider by the second. "We have gotten new information about the whereabouts of some of Grindelwald's closets followers. They are staying in a hotel across the city and I need you both to go there and try and bring them back for interrogation."

"Of course we'll go right away."

"Tsk tsk dear Theseus. There is still more." She seemed to pause for the liking of dramatic effect. "To avoid suspicion you will need to pose as a couple."

You were taken aback and so was Theseus. "A couple what for?"

"Theseus when you ask zee stupid questions like that it makes me think you are too incompetent for this task." She looked down batting her long lashes. "I thought you were a professional and would know better than to question a women in authority."

Theseus held himself back from giving a response, biting his tongue.

She stood up straight smoothing out the creases on her dress as she made her way over to you. You gulped as she inched closer her eyes analyzing every feature of your face. She reached a hand up and gripped you lightly by your chin. Her nails were painted a light pink and were long almost like talons.

She turned you head side to side, tilting your head back and then pulling it down. "Nice bone structure, strong jaw." She took a long finger and ran it along your jaw tracing the outline. "Close your eyes." You obeyed, but you could still here her mumbling to herself. "Long lashes." She released your chin and placed both hands on the sides of your cheeks and ran her cold hands down you cheek bones. "You may open your eyes now."

You opened your eyes to see her still standing in front of you her arms crossed and one hip pushed out. She grabbed Theseus by his forearm and spun him around before he landed next to you, you were standing side by side as he gripped your arm for support. "Perfect."

She clasped her hands together and smiled softly and you could see just how beautiful she was when she wasn't scaring the crap out of everyone. "I'll have Margret put a little makeup on her and I'll have you guys ready to go in about a hour."

She surged forward and grabbed your hand before you had a chance to protest as she dragged you out of the office. "Wait here Theseus I'll come get you when I'm done."

Theseus stared at the door in shock not being able to form any words. He felt anxiety building up in his throat, he didn't know what to do with himself in the meantime. But he made himself stay busy. He spent the hour making calls and signing papers. He was aimlessly twirling his quill between his fingers when his door burst open to revel the Minister.

He stood up at her arrival. "May I present your girlfriend." And for the first time Theseus couldn't find it in himself to correct the fact that your were not his girlfriend.

You stepped through the door and he felt his breath catch in his throat. You normally wore no makeup and you hadn't put much on but what you had on made you look like an angel standing before him. Everything seemed to capture just the right things the light eye shadow made your eyes pop out and sparkle drawing attention to them. The light pink that decorated your lips made them look so soft and gentle. The lightest touches didn't change who you were it just made you look like yourself at full volume.

He swallowed hard. He noticed that she had also changed you into something new. You were now wearing a black floor length gown that hugged your body in all the right places. It had a v neck that went painfully low, very uncommon of the era. The gold trimming decorated the fabric in a pattern that was very star like. Wrapped around your shoulders was a brown mink coat that hung loosely.

He felt the need to loosen his tie as he felt that he couldn't breathe. You looked so painfully beautiful he couldn't stop himself from staring. You looked at him. "What?" You said quietly.

"Now now you will have much more time to stare at Ms. (y/l/n) later." She moved over the Theseus and frowned noticing very imperfection in his outfit. "Close your mouth Theseus you'll catch flies." He quickly shut his mouth. "I didn't think I'd have to fix you up but you look disheveled. Are you sure you weren't fooling around with her this morning." She whispered as she took in his messy hair and untucked shirt.

"I didn't fool around with her." He said through gritted teeth.

"Well alright no need to make zee big deal." She turned to face you her expression going soft. "I'm just gonna fix him up a bit wait here love." She pushed him out despite his protest and seconds later to your surprise she was back.

She stepped in followed by Theseus. He was wearing a soft dark grey suit with a cool grey colored button up underneath. He had a thick silver tie that was stripped that was tucked into his grey vest. His outfit was so simple but so visually stunning. You found yourself noticing how good he looked especially when he walked in with one hand in his pocket and his hair slicked back with gel. He looked like he could be on the cover of a fashion magazine. His freckles, which some saw as imperfections, made him even more stunning as they decorated all this features. You found yourself wanting to trace over every one of them.

She led you both to stand side by side and noticed how well your outfits complemented one another. You really did look like a couple made in heaven.

The Minister took in both of your reactions to each other smirking to herself. She had dressed you both in what she figured each other would fancy and it worked out wonderfully. Her plan was going better than she anticipated.

"Well here's the address I'm sure you won't have any problem finding it."

"Thank you." Theseus took the slip of paper from her hand and placed it in his coat pocket.

She made her way to the door her long dress trailing behind her. She looked over her shoulder as she was about to exit, her hand grabbing onto the door handle. "One more thing. The hotel is were a lot of muggles typically stay so to blend in you will need to take a muggle form of transportation. Preferably a car, but that you will have to find on your own." She closed the door leaving you both to your own devices.

"How are we gonna find a car?" Theseus questioned.

"I may have an idea."

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

"No way! No fucking way! Excuse me cursing. But no way!" You giggled as Theseus worked his way around your car taking it all in. "I can't believe you have a Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost!"

"Mhmm."

"How'd you get a car like this?"

"My dad is an American mechanic and he bought it cheap from a client and sent it up to me." You had both Apparated back to your apartment after the Minister left. You had a car and figured you could take it to the hotel. "I didn't know you were into cars."

"I took muggle studies at Hogwarts and the mechanical engineering behind muggle transposition always fascinated me. Especially cars." Theseus ran his hand over the body of the car whistling. You thought it was so cute how Theseus, a wizard, someone who had seen magic, who could do magic, could be so fascinated with something as simple as a car.

"It's beautiful." The car was cherry red and in the sunlight it seemed to sparkle. "And you can drive?"

"I sure can." You smiled and he looked at you with adoration. He was over the moon about not only about the car but about you.

"I always wanted to learn how to drive but that was never something that was taught at Hogwarts." He laughed sadly as he continued to stare at your car.

"Do you want to learn?" You smiled as you dangled the keys outs in front of you.

"Are you serious?" He smiled ear to ear.

You tossed the keys to him and he caught them. "Of course." You got into the passengers seat and he rushed into the drivers seat settling in before twisting the key to start the ignition. It roared to live and he couldn't stop himself from laughing in excitement.

"Okay so I have the basics down but I just wanna be sure." Theseus looked like a child on Christmas morning as he grabbed the steering wheel. "So break, gas, shift," he went over all the mechanisms checking with you to see if he was correct. You nodded along he knew a surprising amount about cars.

"Here we go." He pulled out and began driving along the stretch of road you could tell he was nervous.

"So just make sure to use turn signals and your all good." You smiled.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

He hollered out in joy and you laughed along. You had so much fun with Theseus, sharing new experiences with him. You glanced to side and noticed how at ease he was behind the wheel, sure his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel to hard, but other than that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Theseus loved being with you. And he loved everything about you. The way your hair waved in the wind, the ways your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He smiled at you without you knowing and turned back to face the road.

As you drove along you brought up the topic of your mission. You discussed how you were going to act out being a couple. "Would you like me to call you something?" You asked him.

"Call me something?"

"You know like babe or honey or darling or beloved..." you listed possible pet names as Theseus felt his face heat up with every suggestion.

"Um you don't have to call me anything."

"Of course I do we want people to believe we're really in love with one another."

But I'm already in love with you. He thought to himself. He saw the hotel in the horizon and attempted to change the subject. "We're here." You rolled up to the hotel it was an architectural masterpiece. It glistened in the sun, your were surprised you hadn't seen it from a mile away.

Theseus got out of the car and made his way to were you'd at to open your door for you. You stepped out as Theseus pulled you close whispering softly. "Remember we're supposed to be a loving couple."

"I remember and it won't be be a problem my beloved." You whispered back as you saw his ears tint red at the pet name.

You looped your arm through his and let him lead you into the hotel as the doorman opened the door and you gave him a thanks. As you made your way the the recipient desk you noticed that the muggles were all starring around you. Theseus seemed to notice too.

"I don't think they think we're a couple." Theseus muttered as he glanced down at you.

You glanced around at the other couples in the hotel and noticed how at ease they were with each other. Theseus however kept a small distance between you too and it seemed as if he was an escort not a boyfriend. "You're too stiff you need to loosen up." You shot back.

"I'll try." He relaxed his shoulders and tried to seem more at ease but it wasn't enough. Unknown to you Theseus was nervous because he was posing as your boyfriend something he would rather be a reality. And he couldn't help himself from thinking that you found him so unappealing and would rather be with his brother on a mission than with him.

You decided to take matters into your own hands. You nuzzled into him and smiled up affectionally at him. He knew what you were doing but part of him couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if all this was real. If you everyday could look at him like that.

"Darling I need to tell you something." You said loud enough for onlookers to hear.

"What is it my love?" Theseus stopped walking and and turned to face you tucking a stray hair behind your ea, his hand lingering and caressing your face.

"Come closer." You smiled at him batting your eyelashes. He leaned closer. "No closer." You we're now inches apart and you closed the space surprising Theseus and everyone around you. You were standing on the tips of your toes kissing Theseus Scamander. You paced a hand behind his head running your hand though his geled hair and placed your other hand on his chest.

Theseus melted into you cupping your face and closing his eyes and he kissed you back all of his dreams coming true as he prolonged the kiss. You slowly pulled away as your eyes fluttered open as both of you out of breath. "Surprise." You said softly. He ran his thumb softly over your lip staring at you in a way very woman wanted to be looked at.

And at that moment you felt such love and affection for the Scamander brother who was fascinated with cars and who made you happy by being excited at the smallest things.

You broke out of your trance and leaned up again to Eskimo kiss him before whispering," let me handle the talking."

You led him forward to the desk were a uptight proper muggle sat. "Hello sir I'm here to check in with my boyfriend I believe it's under the name Scamander."

The man looked up at you two and you could see that he had a soft spot for couples, something you decided to take advantage or it. "We've been dying to come to this hotel."

"Really?" The man asked.

"Oh yes of course it's a beautiful hotel. My boyfriend and I are architects that's how we met actually. He and I were assigned to work on a project together and we just clicked. This is our first trip together and I'm ever so excited to be taking it with a man as wonderful as my beloved." You turned to smile at him and he returned it and nothing about his look was faked.

The concierge looked at you with loving eyes. The way Theseus looked at You was in no way faked or staged and he could tell. "Of course and for such a lovely couple I'll upgrade you to the honeymoons suite."

"Oh that's too kind we're not even on our honeymoon." Theseus remarked as he pulled you close to kiss the top of your head.

"Ah but the way you look at one another I can tell that wedding bells aren't to far away my darling." The man remarked as he handed you the keys to your room.

"As wonderful as she is and as happy as she makes me, your aren't wrong sir." Theseus shook hands with hand as you passed on your way to the elevator.

As the elevator door closed on you two you both let out shaky laughs but you didn't move away from one another. In fact you nestled yourself closer and rested you head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you. "We did good." Theseus said as he squeezed your shoulder.

"We really do make a good couple." You closed your eyes leaning into him smelling his expensive cologne, the smell putting you at ease.

"Hmm." He hummed in response.

"That was some good acting. For a second I almost thought you loved me." You said wistfully you were sad that it was probably all an act. You had said the comment without thinking but it hurt Theseus even though you didn't intend it to.

"But I-" he started but then stopped himself thinking better if it. "Yeah it was good acting." He mumbled as he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

Taglist: @hearteyesmotherclucker @gaenahelleborus @melodramaticmelon2118 @michellekstr @nctyong-xo @preppy-by-the-c @sweetlyshinylady @emo-plaidin @dreacantsleep @theetherealbloom @lily2089 @mywckdmind @barbarachern @imbiandiwanttocry @ollyoxenfrees @newtslatte @pettylady @februarycalum @justanotherenglisheducationmajor @feelthefeelingsinsideyou @ombriescent @ztinge @liloefuru @reindeerdaisies @babywizardoll @missanonyma @heckin-kat @thewitchmadness

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #theseus x reader #newt and reader #theseus and newt #fantastic beats and where to find them #crimes of grindleward #newt and his creatures #theseus fanfiction #newt fanfiction #theseus ship #theseus fluff #theseus x you #theseus imagine #i love theseus #first fanfic #fan fic writing #fan fiction #fanfiction

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treasure-my-aurora · 5 years ago

Text

One More Night. Pt 9

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong / fem!Reader

Chapter: 9/14

Genre: Mutual pining, canon compliant, fluffy af, angsty af, suggestive, teasing and filled with that good shit that everyone loves

Words in this chapter: 6520

Out of all the songs on the new album, Aurora was my favourite. Not because I was biased since Hongjoong had poured his heart and soul, tears and sleepless nights into it. Perfecting it, over and over and over again until he was happy with the result… Well ok, maybe that was the main reason why. But the other reason was simple. It was a song for his first love; Atiny. The fans that sometimes travelled across the world to watch and cheer on the boys. Supporting them through thick and thin, even though they didn’t know them personally. It fascinated me. The amount of love and respect they had was out of this world. There was some bad eggs in the bunch, obviously, which fandom didn’t have its share of toxic people? But Aurora was for the real ones, the loyal ones. It was a Wednesday morning, the day after their comeback. The Seoul weather was mild, comfortable, cloudy but not on the verge of rain and the whole day was dedicated to filming. Me and Hongjoong had discussed his main outfit previously and I only nodded approvingly when I picked the boys up in a company owned van at their dorm just as the sun went up. “I’m impressed” I said, and he winked at me while taking his usual place just behind me, “What can I say, my artistic talent and your eye for design. Boom” He placed his chin in his open hands in a ‘flowering pose’ and San snorted out a chuckle underneath his breath while Seonghwa looked at him with a wrinkle between his brows, repelled by the action with an expression only he could pull off. The first location was a bridge over the Han river and the boys were immediately sent to make-up, before they were ready to record the ‘looking emotionally into the distance so that Atiny can swoon over our visuals’ part. Hongjoong and Wooyoung stood as number three on the list and the younger of the two sprint away to latch himself on San’s side as soon as they were finished, telling him in a singly voice that he looked so good with his cool clothes, expressing the most impressive aegyo I’d seen all week and I chuckled slightly when San gave him a look of confusion, puzzled by the action but loving the attention, sticking out his tongue at him teasingly. “How do you feel?” Hongjoong reached out to touch my arm in an innocent and friendly gesture, wary of the amount of people around us, both from the company and complete strangers who just happened to walk by on the bridge. “I’m fine?” I answered, thoughtful as I met his cautious eyes, but it sounded more like a question and he took a step closer to me, whispering. “You don’t regret yesterday?” He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows, “No, why would I” “I dunno. I just hoped that the enticement between us hasn't changed now when you’d gotten a taste of me” He shrugged, a bit unsure and I shook my head, sad that he was feeling so insecure about himself, “I’m glad… sorry that I act weird” He frowned, “I didn’t sleep well last night, kept dreaming about you. That you changed your mind after our kiss, telling me that you hated me, quitting the company and that I never saw you again… I kept waking up, reaching out and expecting you to be there. But you weren’t… and the feeling was so real that I feared you’d never show up this morning” I fought to keep my face natural but after him dropping a bomb like that, but it was hard, and I clenched my jaw as I fought the need to reach out for him. To hold him tight and kiss him until the feeling of dread in his chest would go away completely. I reached out to fix his clothes instead, aligning the collars of both shirts and pulling on his necklace softly to drop it down lower on his chest, simply to make it an excuse to touch him and his breath hitched softly when he felt my touch, as if he expected not to feel anything at all, “I’m not going anywhere. I wish that we’d be alone at this moment so that I could show you how much I mean it” I said, my gaze fixated on the leaf shaped pendant in my hands and he placed his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from reaching out towards me, like he’d do if we’d be alone. We sighed at the same time, deep and mellow and I refused to meet his longing eyes and the sweet smile I saw in my peripheral, not knowing what I’d do if I did. .. I watched him an hour later when he read the script for the day, the schedule, the routine, what times we were going to eat, the new locations etc. talking to the camera that would follow them throughout the day, a female director, (not the one from the other day at the ‘Dazed’ photoshoot, thankfully) was filming and I sighed happily when Hongjoong nodded and smiled with approval, bright and amazingly beautiful, talking about the process behind his reformed shirt before San came to join him and the subject changed to the 'Power Rangers' in a heartbeat, flowing in a way that a conversation could only move forward when you really knew each other. They did the choreo for the song, wrapped it up nicely and then we headed off into the forest for the second location. Everything was already set up with some tech guys there preparing and working the camera angles and my eyes widened to the beautiful setting. A green large meadow opened up in the foliage and the whole group, both staff and members held their breaths when Hongjoong paused, pursed his lips to think for a moment before he nodded with a content smile and everyone went back to their business. “I’d love to go to spend a day in a place like this with you” He whispered a few minutes later, standing close enough for only me to hear but still far enough away to not draw too much attention to us, “Why?” I asked, knowing that he didn’t enjoy sharing his space with creatures that had more than four legs for any longer amount of time than necessary. “We’d be all alone, we could do anything we wanted, maybe even spend the night and watch the stars, nothing else on our minds than each other. No one would bother us. Trying to separate us. No one would care, because they wouldn’t know” My heart flipped happily in my chest, cheeks flushed pink from the wonderful picture he painted, and he winked at me when he was called over to get a small retouch before they started filming again. .. “Is it supposed to be like this” Hongjoong asked as I buttoned up his clothes a few hours later. We stood away from the others, in a portable changing room that the staff had raised up before our arrival. It was a tight squeeze with only one square meter to move on, but we didn’t mind, revelled in the fact that we could stand closer than we’d been able to do all morning. “Yeah, you all wear basically the same clothes… you don’t like it?” I asked and bit my lip, unsure if I’d taken the right direction, actually questioned myself if I knew him well enough for the first time in months, since it had been my final decision that made the hammer hit the gavel when it came to the style that’d been picked. “No, I love it. It’s perfect for the vibe I wanted. It’s just so…” He raised his arms over his head as I sighed with relief, and if it wouldn’t be for the white shirt underneath, his whole chest would be showing, “Sexy?” before giving me an unsure smile and I nodded, a smug expression on my face, “I know, I wanted to give Atiny a treat” I said while shrugging and he blinked fast, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying, “You’re willing to share me just like that?” He asked, trying to sound serious and a bit hurt but I heard on his tone that he was only teasing me, so I scrunch my nose at him while doing the finishing touches, “Yes, I am… but only as long as you share my bed, and no one else’s” “Wouldn’t dream of it baby” He said and gently cupped my face and my breath hitched with surprise as he pressed his lips on mine in a sweet peck, only brushing against them really, to make it as silent as he could to avert suspicion but it still made my heart race. He kept the position, even after his lips left mine with his hands on my face, longer than necessary, just watching me. Like he never wanted to part from my side, like every moment away from me hurt his soul. Or at least I hoped it was the case, because that’s what I felt. “I’m glad you’re here with me. You’re a part of this, of Aurora as well” He said and I looked away, flustered as he placed me on the pedestal I’d reserved for him, “You know…” his hands traced down to lock around my waist instead, “Atiny is my aurora, but you…” He swallowed and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead and the knot in my stomach when he talked to me like he did right now, twisted and turned and I gulped when he kissed the same place again, stalling a little, “You… you are my light… and while the aurora makes its appearance sometimes, and it’s intense and breathtakingly beautiful... you… you’re my stars. So bright, especially when I'm with you and always there, in my sky, even if I can’t see you. Always showing me the path in my darkness, as soon as the aurora goes away” - 20th of June and tears streamed down my face when the host shouted out Ateez. Hongjoong made eye contact with me for a split second where he knew I stood, at his right a few meters away from the stage together with some more staff and I smiled through the tears, clapping my hands happily as they received the trophy for their first win. .. Hours later and we sat on the sofa at the boys’ dorm. Still in disbelief of what had happened that evening. They had done a vlive as soon as they got back to the company, thanking the staff, friends and family but we still didn’t seem to realize what had happened. I’d offered to take them home when it was time, subsequently writing myself up as responsible to get them back to the company the following morning. It was late, the clock was nearing midnight and I knew that I should go back home and sleep but had a hard time separating myself from Hongjoong’s side as we mindlessly watched a programme on TV, cuddling with the air conditioner like a white noise in the background. San and Wooyoung sat there as well, but at the other end of the sofa, huddled together almost as close as us and the thought of them having something special between themselves, something similar to what Hongjoong and I had crossed my mind, like it had done so many times before. They were focused on their phones, scrolling down on twitter and fan cafés, giggling and showing each other posts about the evening's event and I glanced over at them with a smile before I looked at the clock that rested heavily on my wrist and the smile that’d lingered faltered as I sighed, letting go off Hongjoong’s hand and he looked up on me with surprised eyes as I stood up and stretched. “Don’t go” He said, halfway between a plea and an order while he reached out his hand towards me again and I paused, a sad smile tensed my jaw, and I furrowed my brows at his longing eyes, a pout on his lips and feet resting on the floor, ready to run after me if I walked away. “I have to, I need to be up early to make sure that you’re all up and ready in time for tomorrow's schedule” I said and bit my lower lip, already dreading the coldness of my home, even if it was the middle of summer. “Then stay?” He suggested and stood up as well, taking one hand in his and placing the other on my lower back. I could feel the boys’ eyes on us, silently watching, and I looked over at them just as San reached for the popcorn on the table, like he got ready to watch an epic drama. I gave him a short, disapproving look but he only stuck out his tongue before stuffing his mouth full, some of the popcorn fell back and Wooyoung looked from him to the bowl, a wrinkle between his brows before he looked away again, a mix between disgust and amusement on his face as he shook his head, too used to San’s proneness of being a sloppy eater. I sighed and focused my gaze on mine and Hongjoong’s clasped hands instead, fighting off the feeling to melt into the touch of his hand against my back. He was so comfortingly warm against me, and the familiarity of his body made me sigh. A silent war of logical reasoning tried to fight some sort of sense into my head… but my feelings for him, my need to keep him close, made my mind go dangerously blank. My brain kept pushing on the fact that I should go home. Deal with the accessories that needed to be mended, go over the schedule for tomorrow again, just to be sure and fully prepared but it was a war that were lost within seconds as the recklessness of my heart won. “Ok” I said, still a bit hesitant but Hongjoong smiled bright, nose scrunching before he softly cupped my face and pressed his lips against mine, happily kissing me and taking my breath away. My heart skipped as I immediately melted to putty into his touch, closing my arms around his midriff, my eyelids fluttering shut and the feeling of him pressing up to me, flushing his body against mine hard, arching my back slightly in his hunger for me made my breath hitch, still not used to this new development in intimacy, even though it’s been a few days and I quickly realized that I wasn’t the only one when a loud scream erupted from the sofa. “Are you two fucking kidding me, when did this happen?” Wooyoung asked, his eyes wide as saucers and it looked like he was ready to jump out of his own skin from excitement. “A few days ago” Hongjoong said after breaking the kiss and looked at me with eyes so full of love that I had to break our gaze, getting almost shy from the intensity he showered me with. San had been quiet so far and I watched nervously when he nodded to everything that just happened, stood up and walked up to us with slow but determined steps, his face neutral and I braced myself as Hongjoong let me go. But the fist that I had counted on, was an open hand, pressed onto Hongjoong’s back as San placed his arms around him in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground slightly and I could hear a hushed, “Congratulations… you better treat her right” Being whispered before they let each other go and Hongjoong nodded, and held out his pinky to wrap around San’s, a promise I knew he’d keep silently being uttered between them. The feud finally settled after months of slow but steady healing and I wet my lips, feeling how my heart swelled as they gave each other a big smile. My eyes flicked to the TV, the programme we’d watched had ended and I stifled a yawn behind my hand, suddenly feeling how tired I really was. Hongjoong gave me a smile, placed his hand on my back again and didn’t have to ask to know that it was time for bed. We said goodnight before he led me to the room he shared with Seonghwa, who was seated in his bed at the right and looked up from the game he was playing, eye brows raised with curiosity as his eyes flicked between us to out laced fingers and he sighed, took out his headphones, unplugged his charger, grabbed his pillow and said with an impressively calm voice, “If you fuck on my bed, I’ll rip your spine out of your mouth” “Noted” Hongjoong answered with a smirk and closed and locked the bedroom door after his hyung before he went over to his wardrobe and pulled out a washed-out tee, which he handled to me. “I have clothes with me, Joongie” I said, talking about my usual prepared bag of a change of clothes and hygiene articles but he smiled sweetly, “Yeah, for tomorrow… but you do you. I’d prefer it if you slept naked too” He made a motion as if he was going to put it back and I quickly held out my hand, and he gave me the shirt, snickering slightly under his breath to my sudden resolution. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, expecting him to turn around but he didn’t, and I cocked my head to the side, my eyebrows rising but he stood his ground. “Hey, I’m just as curious as you” He said and I could feel my cheeks burn as I rolled my eyes and turned around instead, pulled my shirt over my head and bit my lip as he let out a soft gasp which turned into a whiny exhale as I unhooked my bra as well, let my clothes fall to the floor and fought the need to cover up as a soft breeze from the small open window at my right made my skin prickle and nipples harden. “You’re beautiful. You know, that right?” He asked and I quickly cupped my boobs anyway when he took two steps towards me, reached out and left ripples across my skin where his fingertips softly caressed down my right shoulder, followed the line of my spine until both hands rested comfortably around my waist and he flushed his chest against my back. I swallowed hard and he placed a butterfly light kiss on the nape of my neck, making me shudder and the hair in my neck stand up. His left hand gently stroked up my side, between my boobs, over my breastbone to my throat and he tilted my head back, to rest on his shoulder, fingers pressing against the skin under my chin and a surprised gasp escaped my lips from his controlling behaviour. The kisses continued over my neck and he nibbled gently on the sensitive flesh over the big artery there, my pulse picking up right next to it and he cursed under his breath, softly bucking his hips into my ass and I gulped, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach did somersaults when I felt his cock prodding against me through his sweats. “You can feel what you’re doing to me, huh? How much you’re turning me on?” He gasped, slightly out of breath as he inhaled sharply, like he’d held it as he touched me, but I couldn’t answer, my voice lost to the feeling of arousal pooling between my legs. One hand travelled down to stroke over the curve of my ass and I pushed back onto his touch, wantonly. Needing, craving more of him. He nudged me forward slightly, towards his bed, bending me over the mattress and I choked on my breath when he bucked his hips forward, into me again. “Do you trust me?” He asked, so sweet and innocent, like his cock wasn’t pressed between my asscheeks that I swallowed nervously and choked forth a small, “I do” Before his hands were on me again, sweetly gripping my waist, hooked his fingers under the lining of my gym shorts before pulling them off and I felt exposed when I stepped out of them, dressed in only my panties now and with my ass in the air. Hongjoongs eager hands touching me, fingers slipping into the lining of my underwear as if he wanted to pull them off as well but stopped himself from doing so, flushing his chest against me again instead, placed kisses over my naked back and I shuddered against him, letting go of my boobs as I didn’t need to shield them from his eyes anymore when he pushed me down harder, almost sandwiched me between him and the bed and I panted against his sheets, sharply inhaling the mixed smell of him and washing detergent and my mind clouded over as his fingers brushed over my clothed cunt with butterfly light touches. “God, babe. You’re dripping wet” He moaned and I whined out something incoherent, too far gone within my own lust to make any sense, “I need you, need something, please” He begged, respecting the boundaries that I’d set up but still in need of the release that had begun to hurt us both. “Fuck my thighs” I choked out, and Hongjoong paused, unsure if he’d heard correct, my sudden forwardness surprised him and I tried to make a point as I raised myself up slightly and pushed my thighs back against him, making him slip between my them slightly and a growl erupted from his lips as he took control again. My heart hammered hard in my ears as I heard how the fabric of his clothes rustled when they hit the floor and I buried my face in my arms, refusing to get a glimpse of his naked body and spoil myself of the sweet surprise. He spit in his hand and the slick sound of him as he closed his hand over his cock, a low moan escaped his lips between hard panting, had my legs quivering and I inhaled sharply, feeling how my eyes rolled back when he separated my thighs with a gentle hand, fingertips wet from saliva and pre-cum and my breath hitched when he brushed against my cunt again, his deep loud groan made me clench around nothing and I swallowed hard as he spread our fluids between my thighs. “Are you sure?” He asked again and I could only nod, gasping as I finally felt his unclothed cock burry between my slick thighs, pushing them apart slightly from the size. I’d been dreaming about this for months now, fantasizing about how he would feel against my body, completely naked, the girth of his cock, the length, based only on what I’d felt when he woke up, pressed against me, softly dry humping my leg or the contour of it in his tight pants when he got a boner as I dressed him. Nothing could prepare me for the real deal though and I cried softly into his sheets as he reached forward to lace our hands together, his cock sliding in and out between my thighs hard and fast and my eyes rolled back as I clenched around nothing again, imagining how good it would feel when he would finally be inside me, stretching and filling me up completely. “Fuck baby, you feel so good” Hongjoong cried out and nibbled hard on my skin, marking me with red blooming flowers, rutted against me with no plan on stopping and I fell forward slightly from his hard thrusts, landing flat down on my stomach instead, but he didn’t stop. Quite the opposite, and I gasped as he pressed his body weight against me, his hips bouncing off my ass and teasing the lips of my clothed cunt. “Touch yourself baby, I need you to come undone before me” He gasped out, voice throaty and I imagined that his head had fallen back, eyes closed as he revelled in the feeling of us together. I comply without a word, and he lifted himself slightly so that I could slide my arm underneath me and I almost flinched when I felt the movement of his cock pushing in and out between my thighs as I pressed down on my clit, circling around it and Hongjoong moaned when I helplessly clenched my thighs together as pleasure shot through my body. “Do that again” He cried and rested his head against my shoulder, his hot breath made me shudder as I pressed down hard on my clit and clenched my thighs again, gasping as he shuddered against me and I felt that he was close. The thrusting irregular and his breath uneven and I slid my other arm underneath my body as well, to join my already wet fingers, moved my panties to the side to slip two fingers inside me, moaning to the feeling and Hongjoong stopped his movements suddenly, panting hard, “Sorry” He choked out and breathed for a couple of seconds before he began to move again, much, much slower than before, “I don’t want to come just yet” He whispered and pressed a soft kiss against my shoulder blade. I inhaled sharply, supporting my body on my chest and the side of my face as he leaned down, over me to capture my lips, holding the kiss for a few seconds and the moment that had been so hungry for release turned sweet and loving as he placed his hands on my waist, pushing my body back to meet his thrusts. “Come for me baby, and clench hard. I wanna cum on you” He whispered and I cried out softly as I worked my fingers faster, pressed them up against that sweet spot inside of me and he growled, leaned back and began pounding against me, his cock gliding between my pre-cum slicked thighs without restrain, and I bit back a loud moan, imagining how wet and nasty it would finally be when that pre-cum would rest happily between my walls as he slid in and out of me instead. I was on the edge, on the very verge of falling over when Hongjoong leaned down to press a kiss between my shoulder blades, “Fuck, you feel so good against me babe, so warm and wet. I love you… I love you so much” He exhaled, hands gripped my hips harder and his voice so full of affection that I felt tears forming in my eyes as I came over my fingers, gushing the wetness of my cum down the sides of my thighs and a guttural moan escaped his lips as he followed, thighs tensing up as he pressed himself as close as he could against me and the wet feeling of cum spreading over my lower stomach as he came hard, riding out his orgasm with a deep exhale, made me sigh hard and I slumped against him. Warmth spreading through my body. “I love you too” I whispered against the mattress and he pressed a sweet kiss on my cheek. “I know. I’ve known since you began looking at me differently after we got home from Saipan” He said while walking off and I heard rustling from tissue paper and clothes as he cleaned himself up before changing clothes and my heart beat hard in my ears. “How?” I asked and quickly covered my chest as he gently turned me over to lie on my back instead, a soft, “Oh” escaping his lips and I opened my eyes. He’d put on new underwear, just as I’d guessed, but his chest were still naked, and I bit my lips as I watched his post-orgasm face. Eyes hooded and glazed over, sheen sweat on his template and glistened his body, cock still half hard, twitching happily as he looked down on me and the mess he’d created on my stomach and I averted my gaze, cheeks burning from the diabolical fire in his dark eyes. I inadvertently kneaded my boobs in my hands, a bit uncomfortable, feeling bare under his gaze and his head tilted to the side from the sight, hand reached out to touch the wetness between my thighs where I laid, legs rested off the bed and I couldn’t help but clench them together slightly, still too sensitive. He groaned, deeply and closed his eyes. An ongoing war in his mind as he fought the craving to just spread my legs and bury himself in the hot wetness between them. “I can’t, I just…” He sighed, voice cracking and I knew what he meant, feeling the burn of desire working up my body again as well again. “Look away” I said, and he inhaled sharply before he closed his eyes and I scrambled with the shirt he’d given me, pulled it over my head to cover myself up and inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne on the neckline of it. Never wanted the feeling of him around me to stop. Hongjoong surrounded my senses, making me swallow hard as he gripped my thigh harder after opening his eyes again and seeing his shirt on my body. The need to dominate ruled his system and I motioned for him to come closer as I scooted up, placing my head on his pillow instead and he followed, enclosing my body with his as he towered over me on all fours. He sighed, brows wrinkling, and he placed his hand on my cheek as he leaned down to taste my lips again. “I love you, I love you, I love you” He said in a mantra, kissing my lips between the words and I choked as he took my breath away with every press of his lips upon mine. My heart beating hard, and I wet my lips, tasting him and swallowed as he laid down, pressing his body weight on me, softly bucking his hips against my heat and I bit down a moan as I separated my legs further, the soles of my feet on the bed and I could feel my blood boiling as he humped against me, thrusting his once again clothed hard cock against my wetness. “I need to feel you” He choked out and I nodded, closed my legs around his waist and pressed him closer, the tip of his cock pushed against my entrance as he dipped in, the fabric of my panties stopping him from going much further than half a centimetre or so but it was enough to send him into a frenzy. He pushed his hand into his underwear and I bit back a cry as his facial expression fell when he closed his hand around himself, so far gone already that he immediately started to thrust against me again, using his hand for the part that didn’t reached inside me and I slip my hand between us to circle around my clit again. The obscene sound of slick wet skin against each other as we moaned quickly got me drunk and my lips found his again, meeting his tongue halfway as it flicked out to taste me. His appetite out of this world and I groaned when he pushed his body against mine, making me writhe and my head to fall back against the pillow. The stretch from the head of his cock against my burning heat made me blind with wanton need and I thrusted back against him, falling from the edge before I even realized I was standing at it, still sensitive from my previous orgasm and he gasped as my face contorted and I squeezed around him, eyes falling back in my skull and his hand closed around my throat, nibbling at my lower lip possessively, "You're mine baby, just mine" He growled and I took a shaky inhale behind his enclosed fingers, swallowed with some difficulty, “My body, my noona, only mine” He continued, black eyes meeting mine, as he snapped his hips against my body, eyelids heavy and his tongue between his teeth, biting down in concentration. Head tilted to the side and watching me with dark intensity, like he didn't want to miss a thing I was doing. Just as lost in my eyes as I was in his, loving the expression I was doing as my oversensitivity made my body writhe under his, wanting to escape the burn between my legs but loving the feeling of him against me. I placed my hand on his chest, feeling how hard his heart pounded underneath the ribcage and swallowed deep, my heart sang with his and he quickly fell as well, buried his face in the crook of my neck when he did so. Sinking his teeth into the flesh of my skin and I whined with satisfaction when I felt his cum coating the outside of my already wet panties. We breathed together for a few seconds before he sat back up, cursed loudly, jumped up and basically threw tissue paper at me. “What are you doing?” I asked, sat up to lean on my elbows, feeling drunkenly sleepy from our session and he walked on wobbly knees, pressing the tissues into my hand. “I almost came in you, clean up, hurry” He said, voice panicky and I looked at his stressed out expression for a few seconds before my clouded mind realized what he was talking about and I fell back on the bed again, rubbed my eyes and a small giggle fell from my lips, “Stop laughing, this is serious. I’m not ready to be a dad at all” He cried out and slipped his fingers underneath the lining on my panties, but I stopped him quickly and waved a hand in front of me to try and calm him down. “I’m on the pill, darling. It’s fine. You’re not gonna be a dad and even though I wouldn’t be on birth control. I’d take the measurements needed to not get pregnant before this would’ve happened. Some tissue paper is not going to stop any sperm to keep on swimming” I said, and his face changed from worry and concern to hurt and confusion. “What do you mean you’re on the pill?” He asked and sat down on the bed next to my resting body, pouting and I realized that he must think that I slept with others as well since the first sexual thing we’d done, when we were so close that our bodies touched, happened a little less than two months ago and so far, he hadn’t even been close to cumming near my cunt until well, now. “Don’t misunderstand, darling. You’re the only one for me. I’ve said that so many times, and that’s the truth. I love you” I reassured, “I’ve taken the pill since I started having sex... it’s more than a birth control for me. It’s more than that for many women” I said, and his upset face softened as he pursed his lips at me, puzzled at this new dose of information and I smiled at his sweet unawareness. Still not used to the fact that he was born 98, years after me and in November non the less, technically not even twenty-one yet. Not old enough to drink in many countries and I frowned as a disruptive feeling laid over me like a heavy suffocating blanket. “I’m sorry” I said and sat up, flinching slightly at the feeling of dried up cum on my tummy and he looked at me, his frown mirroring my own as he laced our fingers together, gave my hand a squeeze, sucked on the inside of his cheek and looked up on me from long lashes. “Why?” He asked and I looked away, swallowed hard, and shook my head, embarrassed to speak my mind. “Darling… you’re a leader, a father in all ways but physical, with qualities of someone that knows what they’re doing and sometimes I just fail to remember your age” “Are you calling me naïve?” He asked and coiled back, slightly offended but I shook my head again, “No no, the very opposite. You’re so mature and… I dunno… I just wanna tell you that I’m sorry. Sometimes it feels like I’m…” I trailed off but he still picked up where I left off, “What, like you’re using me?” He asked with a chuckle and I shrugged, a pout on my lips, “I think we can both agree on who’s being used in this situation, noona” He said, a bright smile still tugging on his lips as he went back to using formal honorifics in a heartbeat, more to mock me because of the topic than actually being polite and I sighed at his antics. Knowing fully well in my heart, just as him, that he’d been the one holding the strings, playing with me like a puppet and pushing me further and further towards the edge until I finally fell, unable to stay in my own lane anymore, just as deep into him as he was into me. The both of us welcoming the development of whatever happened between us, as time went on. “You’re still young though�� I added softly, “I just…” I sighed and clenched the fist that wasn’t holding Hongjoong’s, “I just don’t want you to regret the decision to be with me. I understand that your job is your life and I feel the same about mine. It’s not something you’d back away from just because you’re in love. It’s your life’s blood and your livelihood and I…” I inhaled sharply and met his eyes again, “I need you to be sure because I won’t be able to handle a no from you. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after the purgatory we will be forced to go through when this relationship is finally uncovered, be it by media or the company” He nodded and said a simple, “You’re right. I’m not ready to risk anything” and my heart fell in my chest, but he quickly picked it up again when he placed a hand under my chin and forced me to meet his gaze again, “But neither are you. We’re going to go through this, everything that will happen, together. Just like we’d done so far. When I met you, so many months ago, I’d never expect to sit here with you, afterglow clouding my senses and you sitting here in front of me in my cum stained shirt, looking like a wet dream and more gorgeous than I could ever imagine… and I’ve imagined, a lot” I chuckled when he punctuated the last words extra hard, feeling how my heart fluttered at his sweet words as I squeezed his hand in mine.

#kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong/reader #ateez kim hongjoong #part 9

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cruzrogue · 6 years ago

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Enter My World

previous Chapter 2

Enter My World

Giving Felicity a nickname wasn’t an easy feat. I asked eighteen random people for a nickname that could suitably be attached to Felicity. Any nickname that stood out as one that would be commonly used I got rid of. This nickname was only to be used between Oliver and Felicity. Just like Vern/Vernnie was something she called him because well I wanted to create an endearment that a seven-year-old to current date would have a pet name. In the show I can’t see her give Oliver a pet name but that is because the point of their lives it would be silly. Endearments like honey/babe and so forth well that comes with being in love over time. Anyways I landed up using Filla because of this young lady named Nadia. She is so sweet and well how could I not?

This chapter is Oliver centric. Robert Queen is worried about his son.

Chapter 3

Three weeks later…

Oliver can hear the echo of his footsteps bounce off the walls when the house is tremendously quiet. The night staff is basically the estate’s security team that really do more external sweeps which usually ranges on how many men actually are seasonally required. Until his parents retire for the night to their room there is a caretaker that handles the small nightly duties. Raisa sometimes sleeps onsite but she mostly leaves after her shift is over. There aren’t many others that his parents leave their children to unsupervised. Hence why the halls are so quiet.

He’s supposed to dine with his father tonight as his mother and two sisters are out at ballet dance class. They’ll have dinner with a few other participates and enjoy a girls’ night out. He is happy to not be included so being home he is entertaining his thoughts. He is finding he hates the quiet moments and how being alone only adds to his depression.

Finishing his homework hours ago and then finding himself drawing faces of a certain girl he misses dearly. He didn’t think it would be so hard to move on. It’s not like he doesn’t have other friends which also have sisters he’s spent time with. So, what makes Felicity so special? It can’t just be countless moments they were just excited to do things together. The rare inside jokes that only they’ve shared. Being she’s the only person to ever call him Vern or Vernnie which stuck long after the reason she gave him that nickname.

Writing down their nicknames across a pad of paper he feels a certain dread after she made sure to express that she doesn’t want any more direct communication with him. He looks at the perfect cursive calligraphic penmanship that his sister spent half an afternoon teaching him even when he could care less about its visual beauty but Emilia was so happy to teach him something so he spent the time doodling words as she smiled broodily at him. The life of a big brother. Especially when trying to be a supportive brother he now wonders how many times Tommy has had to deal with his own sister’s piqued interests? He looks at the pad as the names Vernnie and Filla stare back at him before tearing the sheet from the pad and balling it up throwing it across the room.

He couldn’t stand being here any longer and needs to get out of this funk maybe get some fresh air. He just wishes their lives weren’t so interwoven because he wishes he had someone to talk about this with and Tommy is out of the question.

He needs to pass his father’s office on his way through and his father calls out to him.

“Oliver! Walter, hold on a minute I need to say a few words to my son.” He covers the phone with his hand over the receiver as his son enters the home office. His son has been very quiet lately and that has raised some concern especially with his mother who has noted a few changes.

Oliver always takes in the room when he enters. It’s large with dark leather and a deep masculine décor. Its screams old money. It’s actually quite overwhelming to him. Sometimes he forgets he comes from wealth and takes everything he has for granted but lately he has wallowed in what he’s lost.

“Yes, dad?” Oliver sits in the furthest chair close to the exit he doesn’t think he’ll be here long. His dad has been working on a business expansion that’s taken a lot of his time lately. With his mother and two sisters out it just leaves father and son to mingle about and Oliver would rather sit by the pool and let the buoyancy of the wind and the oncoming sunset reflect off its grand scale.

“I won’t be joining you for dinner. Unfortunately, a deal I need to tend to with Walter before I leave for a late business meeting. I have informed Raisa to make your favorites, just want to make sure you’ll actually eat.”

“Okay.” Oliver shrugs his shoulders. He isn’t hungry anyways he’ll just ask for a sandwich but he’ll get mac & cheese or with some grilled chicken he doesn’t care what vegetable will be served he usually eats any of the options given.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yea, I mean yes. Dad everything is fine. I’ll eat something. Don’t worry about me.”

Robert looks at his son for a few more seconds before he makes a decision. Placing the phone back on against his ear. “Walter, let me call you back.” After Walter gives a response Robert agrees and hangs up.

Robert gets up from his chair as he keeps his gaze on his son. Moira is right his son looks lanker than usual. “Have you been feeling well?”

“I’m fine dad.”

“Yes, you have stated that already.” Robert looks at the grandfather clock before resuming looking at his sullen boy. “You’ve been at home more lately. You’re usually at the Merlyns or Tommy would be here. Especially when your sisters aren’t. Hmm did something happen between you and Tommy?”

Oliver sighs but shakes his head no.

He asks his son again, “Nothing has happened?” and gets a sway of the head indicating a no.

“Oliver, I’m going to need you to be more vocal.”

“Everything is fine between me and Tommy.” Robert can sense that this is all he will pry out of his son. Nodding at the sixteen-year-old.

“Just make sure to eat enough. Your mother and sisters should be home by seven thirty. If you’re alright, I suppose you can go get yourself washed up for dinner. I’m going to make a few calls before I leave.” He looks at Oliver stand and start to head out. “You would tell me if something was bothering you?”

Oliver turns to his dad and makes sure to nod to keep his dad from meddling. “I’m fine dad.”

Robert enters the establishment ready to do business on one of the dining room tables that is off to the side from the main restaurant. He runs into seeing Malcolm on his way out with his family. The men shake hands and Robert gives Rebecca an acceptable partial hug of familiarity, and both kids get a full hug. Rebecca and the kids excuse themselves to head to the carrousel that is calling their names.

“Family night?”

“It has been awhile but Felicity has been talking about an exhibit at the science museum so it being premier night we thought it’ll be fun.”

“Oh yes, Moira mentioned this but my younger kids aren’t interested. They don’t consider added educational trips as fun.”

“Well as much fun as it can be as I had to encourage Tommy to not sulk about the torture of more science in his life. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Oliver agreed to come along but I understand his new interest is a more enlightening matter.”

“Oliver is home alone. Strange. This time with Tommy is probably what he’d need.”

“Moira and the girls aren’t home?”

“No. The usual dance classes and all.”

Malcolm gives off a weird vibe as if he wants to tell Robert that maybe Oliver is not home alone as he thinks. Otherwise it would be strange for the boy not to hang out with his own family.

Robert catches on. Maybe his son is entertaining and that does not sit well with him. He has always had an open communication line with his kids. They can come to him for anything and he feels a slight twinge of hurt that his son would omit something and go behind his parent’s backs.

“I think I need to reschedule this meeting. I may be needed elsewhere.” He’ll have to make some apologizes to the men waiting but his boy comes first.

“Robert. Hey I’m sorry. I doubt Oliver is doing anything crazy. He is a bright boy.”

“Thanks Malcolm. I better be off. We should get together for a round a golf when the weather clears.” Malcolm nods and they say their goodbyes as Robert is on a mission.

Robert knocks once, twice, and as he knocks the third time he opens the door to his son’s room and enters looking around for more than his son’s appearance in what is supposed to be a solitary room.

“Dad! You’re home early.”

Robert notices his son who is now standing to the side off the couch. A book that hazily is by the edge falls making a thud sound as it hits the wooden floor. Oliver automatically collects it and places it on the side table. Looking like he might be guarding the closet door.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ve had a bite.”

“Just a bite? Raisa said you came by and grabbed a few bottles of water before disappearing. Now what is going on?” As Robert says this he walks past his son to the large closet and pulls the door open and surprisingly there is no one in there.

“Dad? What are you doing?”

“Is there someone here?”

“No. Why would there be? I don’t understand.”

“I had an interesting chat with Tommy’s dad. Who assumed you were entertaining.”

“Oh.”

“Yes oh. He asked his son to invite you for a fun night. Did he?”

“Yes, Tommy asked I declined telling him I would be busy.”

Robert looks around the boy’s room and thinks about checking the bathroom that is before Oliver states something that stops him.

“I’ve been lying to Tommy about some girl.”

Robert is shocked. Why would his son need to lie to a boy who knows him inside-and-out? This is not good. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want me near his sister.”

“What?” Robert shakes his head, “Have you done something to Felicity?”

“No. Gosh no. She kissed me a few weeks ago.”

“Kissed you?”

“Okay it was a peck on the lips but I realized I really like her. I mean like her and I told her we couldn’t be friends anymore.” He slumps against the couch. “Now Felicity hates me.”

“So, there is no girl in this room with you. Okay, one problem down.” Robert breathes out relieved. He hears his son moan but at least he doesn’t have to deal with getting rid of a visitor. “I came home expecting the unexpected you’d be relieved to and believe me when you become a father you’ll understand.”

Oliver just looks at his dad like he has two heads.

“All this sulking around the house I presume is about Felicity?”

“Dad! She hates me.”

“Tell me exactly what you told her. Maybe you’re being harder on yourself than you should be.”

“I don’t remember it piece by piece. I just remember I called her a kid. That I value Tommy’s friendship over hers and I ended the friendship because I knew best.”

Robert looks at his son astonished. “When did you realize you liked Felicity?”

“Why does that matter?”

It really doesn’t matter but both the Merlyn elders alongside him and his wife have seen it coming as these two have a special blossoming relationship. Robert bites his lip and against better judgement tells his son, “I thought you’d realize this much later on and now I owe your mother a backrub.”

“What? You and mom knew I liked, liked her?” Oliver looks at his dad and is stunned, “No! No way. Uncle Max and Auntie Reba knows too?”

With a nod Robert knows he is in a jam. “Oliver?”

Oliver is up and pacing. “Everybody knows? Oh my… No! This can’t be happening.”

“Calm down. Young love is beautiful.”

Oliver just wants the floor in his room to open up and swallow him whole he is so mortified. He really thought that what he felt was just so new and to know his family could see it. He feels like a total fool. Now he can’t even talk to the girl that has him brooding around thinking of ways to get her to even look at him. Though no matter what it doesn’t solve his problem. He still feels that her being younger is just a curse. “Dad she’s twelve.”

“Hmm. Hmm.” Robert then says, “I can’t assume what your male friends talk about but as a male myself I understand certain things. Let me tell you, don’t let them pressure you into doing anything you’re not ready for. It seems that maybe we need to have a certain conversation.”

“Dad I don’t need that talk again I still remember it very well.”

“No wise guy. Though as uncomfortable as getting that conversation started it needed to be done. I don’t want the information you get be from some older buddies telling you falsehoods.”

Robert makes himself as comfortable as he can because this talk is going to have with Oliver is going to be intense but his son needs this. He wants his boy to not lack in knowing that no matter what life throws at him that there are people on his side. He watches as his son readies himself. Oliver looks at his dad and nods hoping that somewhere in this conversation he can figure a way because right now he feels so lost.

tagging: @1106angel @memcjo @keabbs @lovelifelovebooks

#olicity #Enter My World #oliver queen #felicity smoak #robert queen #arrow

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moodring89 · 7 years ago

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Wedding Crasher Ch.02

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Side pairings Genre: Romance / Smut Rated: M / NC17 Tags: Wedding!AU, Badboy!AU, Violence, Debauchery (more tags to be added) Summary: It was always a little bit tragic for Hoseok whenever he got caught, which wasn’t often. He had enough experience with crashing weddings to be considered a veteran. One easy lie after another, from the church to the reception hall. Previous Chapters: 01

A/N: Thank you guys! You've showed that short ass chapter so much love. I have come prepared to feed you a bit more :) If you're enjoying the story, remember to say so! It makes us writers work faster with confidence! New Reader fics I recommend when you're done: It's Too Sweet Comfort Zone

‘I didn’t mean to rob you, inside job you. Baby, you were meant to take the fall.’

You were running late, which wasn’t something you were typically known for, but sometimes when the stars aligned just right – the molten outer layers of hell showing signs of freezing over, it could happen. It was currently happening, on the worst night possible. Tonight was the joint bachelor party for two of your closest friends. You helped organize the entire evening, booking the table at the Bizarre, enlisting Jeongguk to find a dancer, working your ass off just so you could confidently pick up the tab at the end of the night. Jeongguk was waiting for you outside the club, checking the time on his phone with a hint of impatience. It was hot out, even this late at night – your heels scraping and clacking against the concrete as you walked up to him. “I am so, so sorry!” you said, joining him against the building. You could hear the music thrumming through the walls. “Did they beat me here?” Jeongguk gave a sullen nod, “They did. In fact, they’re all here, including the dancer, but he doesn’t start for another twenty minutes or so.” “Jesus, I’m like, not even a friend right now.” He patted your shoulder with mock-sincerity, “I know, but it’s making me look good. So, keep up the good work.” “Yeah, that’s reassuring. Thanks, Guk,” you muttered dryly, while tugging down your dress, the fitted material clinging to your curves in all the right places. Even Jeongguk had taken an interest, tilting his head to the side, looking you over without even an ounce of shame. You raised a brow at him, “Can we go in now?” He took hold of your hand and guided you towards the entrance, “The dancer brought along a friend, but he isn’t part of the show. I’m wondering if he’s the boyfriend… ” You stared up at him, surprised given the fact that Jeongguk hadn’t cared since his last miserable relationship. “Oh? Well, I’m wondering why that would matter to you.” “Because he’s adorable and it’s the adorable ones that end up being kinky as fuck,” Jeongguk said, right before you walked through the doors. Talking at a normal volume was no longer an option. The club was an overwhelming pulse of writhing bodies. The music was like a shot of adrenaline that sang throughout your body, making your heart race. Thankfully, it was quieter in the VIP section that you’d reserved, but not by much. Namjoon looked at his invisible watch, before shaking his head at you. Seokjin nudged him, most likely telling him to stop with the teasing. You approached the two grooms with open arms, saying your apologies over and over again. “I’m the worst,” you said, keeping your hands on their shoulders, unwilling to break free from the huddle. “But you’ve been enjoying yourselves? Please god, tell me this is fun for you.” “Joonie and I may be old, but we still enjoy the club,” Seokjin reassured, curling his hand behind your neck to bring you in for another hug. “Stop beating yourself up. You did well. Babe, tell her.” Namjoon’s response was immediate, “For fuck sake, woman, you know I’ve been trying to book a table here. They probably got tired of my ass calling every week, so I had to go through you.” You nodded, “Yeah, probably. Where’s Tae?” Jeongguk tore his eyes away from the crowd, “Dancing.” “We should go get him,” you offered, when really – you needed to go pay for the dancer, and only Jeongguk knew what he looked like. He caught on quick, following your lead. You stepped out onto the floor, resisting the urge to dance like everyone else was. Jeongguk gestured in the direction of a guy who was leaned against a busy wall, “That’s him.” He had a smaller figure, hair hidden under a cap with a dark hood thrown over it. How your friend could decipher the dancer’s potential to be adorable with such little exposed left you temporarily baffled. Approaching him, you gave an awkward wave of your hand, because you don’t ‘people’ very often. Tragically introverted, which was probably why you and Jeongguk got along so well. “Hey,” you said with a start, raising your voice to go higher than the music. “Thank you for coming. Has Jeongguk already filled you in on the situation?” The dancer’s lips were plump and slick with gloss. It was difficult to pay attention to much else, when he nodded, “He said that I’ll be dancing for grooms this evening.” “Yes, our two friends are getting married on Sunday.” You looked over at Jeongguk for some extra input and were caught off guard by the dark, narrowed expression that fell across his features, eyes taking the dancer in like he was a whole meal. Alright, then. “Anyways, I am prepared to pay for a full hour of your services and no offense, but I hope that you’ve prepared something that’s a bit more…” You paused, watching as the dancer tapped the arm of a guy who seemed deeply immersed in conversation with a girl, a strand of her blonde hair wrapped around his finger, as he slowly reeled her into him. This must be the friend that Jeongguk was worried about earlier – probably not anymore given how obviously flirtatious he was being with someone else. He released her from his hold to extend his hand out, accepting the dancer’s hat and oversized sweatshirt. What he wore beneath the layers was enough to effectively shut you up. Donned in a mesh sleeveless top, a harness made up of black leather hugged tightly around his slim waist and riddled with plentiful buckles. A set of nipple piercings glinted whenever he moved. It was goddamn distracting. He slid a hand through his silver colored hair, a grin splitting his mouth around his crooked front teeth. Jeongguk was right about this one, except adorable wasn’t exactly what you would call him. No, adorable was an insult. “A bit more…?” the dancer asked, eyes alit with amusement. He was smug and confident, two qualities that would appeal to your friends. You released a shaky breath, overwhelmed by all the visuals. Half determined to help Jeongguk out of his post-breakup depression, you inquired for his sake, “What should we call you?” “Jimin.” Jimin…the name suited him. You gestured towards the redhead who had yet to even look in your general direction, too busy with securing his kill, “And who is your friend?” “Hoseok hyung,” Jimin said, leaning in as if you’d be able to hear him better that way. “He wanted to come clubbing tonight.” Jeongguk decided to finally steal the conversation away from you, “They’re waiting. We should probably go start the show.” You weren’t done with your line of questioning yet and Taehyung was still out on the floor somewhere. Jeongguk’s lack of care on the matter was unapologetic, as he boldly left with Jimin without so much as a backwards glance. Something told you that he wouldn’t be waiting for you to watch the dancer strip out of his clothing. Damn it. You turned, scanning your eyes around the room. Taehyung always liked being close to the DJ station, mainly so that he could make one bad song request after another. “Tell me more about your friend,” came the loud, obnoxious shout from beside you. You turned, seeing the friend with the red unruly hair, minus the girl he’d been playing with just moments ago. “I don’t really have the time and it would take plenty,” you said, taking him in with a hint of apprehension. The guy had two black eyes and a busted lip. “Although, I’d like to learn more about your friend as well…” He nodded, acknowledging the fact that you both shared a mutual curiosity, “Yeah, I practically had my dick zapped off from the electrical charge I felt between them.” You raised a brow at his metaphor, thus deeming him as somewhat crass, and unpredictable. As much as you enjoyed comedians, you knew that you should steer clear of this guy. Gut instinct was never wrong. You mentally checked him off as proceed with caution, because despite crossing him off, you didn’t trust yourself. You were being honest, “I don’t disagree.” He was decently taller, dressed better than most guys here, and was actually, actually prettier than you. In fact, it was borderline ridiculous how attractive he was – you could sense the danger of it, felt it drawing you in like an invisible string. “So, you had your dick zapped, too?” he asked, grinning with his too white teeth, reminding you of the damn Cheshire cat, except with two very pronounced dimples. “I need to get back to my friends.” Screw Taehyung. You’d fallen off the beaten path and had run into a fucking wolf. “That’s right. Your friends are getting married on Sunday,” he said, moving so that he could stand in front of you. You were slow to look up into his eyes, caught and stuck the moment that you did – dark brown eyes melting you through where you stood. Hoseok leaned forward, playing with the short distance between you, threatening to close it entirely, “What a coincidence, since I’ll be attending a wedding on that day.” That part intrigued you. “You know Kim Namjoon and Seokjin?” Hoseok smiled quietly then, as though knowing something you didn’t, and had chosen to keep it all to himself. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the chance to investigate it, when Taehyung found you. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and held you against him firmly. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, when he planted a sloppy kiss against your neck. “Mm, you smell like heaven,” Taehyung breathed, hands becoming familiar with the curves of your body. You were used to a happy, slightly intoxicated Taehyung – knowing that he wouldn’t drink enough to get drunk, but he would dance enough to become high. You held onto him, slipping a hand through his dark, damp hair. “Let’s go, Tae…” you trailed, unsure of what to make of Hoseok, or his imposing presence. He tucked a hand into his pocket and nodded towards the stairs to where your small party was being held – being oddly hot about it. What was happening? The tension was so thick and unnecessary. The way he held your eyes let you know that this wasn’t over. You managed to climb the steps supporting most of Taehyung’s heavy weight against you. Seokjin and Namjoon were at the far back wall, sitting with their chairs pressed together. You weren’t surprised to see that Jeongguk had made himself comfortable, arms crossed with his back against the hard surface, watching in enrapt stillness as Jimin found the beat. Without looking away, Seokjin spoke to you, “How could you do this to us? What kind of monster are you?” “I would’ve been offended if she hadn’t done this much,” Namjoon said, the deep timbre of his voice thicker than usual, caught in his throat traitorously. There was a hand settled between the elder’s thighs, Namjoon’s large hand giving Seokjin’s leg a possessive squeeze. Jimin’s soft, near cherubic features versus the sinful actions of his body was harsh in contrast, making him all the more unsuspecting. It was the perfect dichotomy, until it wasn’t – the expression on Jimin’s face falling into one of dark allure, and seduction. Taehyung pulled you towards the direction of a leather sofa, intending to use you as a cushion for his head. You smiled at his commentary, “Oh, oh…his hips, noona.” “I can see, Tae,” you said, appreciating the sight before you. Jimin’s movements were fluid and restrained, like he’d been dancing all his life. It wasn’t the type of dancing that you’d pick up from the clubs or the streets, but something more refined. The boy moved with grace, even while it was downright filthy. As an extra service for reserving the VIP section, you were regularly checked on. You hadn’t even had your first drink yet. So, you ordered yourself a whiskey sour. When it was finally in your hands, the glass cold and fogged over, you let the cool liquid slide down your throat. It went down smooth. Truth be told, you were a lightweight, so it only took a few moments for the alcohol to make you feel warm and relaxed, racing thoughts put on slow. The guy with the wild red hair was since forgotten. An hour with Jimin seemed too short now, like you’d been cheated. However, he made good use of his time, removing his harness with practiced hands, his every movement purposeful. The mesh, once gone was almost offensive. You’d assumed it wasn’t so, given the fact that you could see everything, but now – now you could actually see everything. You pitied Jeongguk then, especially when he was given some direct attention. He lowered his gaze at the dancer, as Jimin guided the flat of Jeongguk’s palm down his abdomen in a slow, tantalizing path that stopped at the button on his jeans. Jeongguk popped it open and pressed the zipper in hard, before trailing it down. “Take them off me,” Jimin demanded, words coming out breathless from what you’d assumed was exertion, but was probably something else. Something Mrs. Potts would have to explain to Chip in a full length song once he’d become of age. Jeongguk was all too willing to oblige him, running his fingers along the inside of his jeans, and over his pert ass. Kneading each cheek roughly, he pulled Jimin closer to him, allowing the smaller man to feel the outline of his hard cock. With half-lidded eyes, the dancer placed a hand on the top of Jeongguk’s broad shoulder when he bent down to tug his jeans off the rest of the way. “I think Guk is in hell,” Taehyung murmured to you and all you could do was nod in agreement, because yes – most likely. When Jeongguk stood back up, he practically shoved himself against the wall as a way of ensuring that he’d behave himself. It was the funniest thing you’d seen in a long, long while. Another whiskey sour down. Jimin finished his show with his back faced towards the grooms, paying each lap one last, final tease. You tried not to look at anyone, thinking it odd to be the only one without an obvious boner on display. Even after Jimin’s job was done, he’d stayed behind, finding himself wrapped up in conversation. It was Namjoon’s fault, always was, never passing up on deep, meaningful discussions with strangers. “Noona,” Taehyung pouted, showing you his empty glass of Shirley Temple. “Baby,” you said back, using the same pitiful tone, as you took it away from him, and placed it down on the table. “Can we go dance now?” Seokjin overheard you, “Me too. I want to show off what I learned from Jimin.” The dancer giggled at this, his entire face scrunching up cutely. This caused Jeongguk to nearly go into shock, turning with a groan that you’d physically felt run through you. Your friend needed to handle his situation. You were brought out onto the floor, positioned at the center of your friends in the usual formation. They always felt the need to circle you as a way of providing protection. With this in mind, it was easy for you to drop your defenses, and let go. The wedding was stressing you out, but the finish line was in sight. Apart from that, it was the weekend. You didn’t have to worry about work until Tuesday. Life was good for you right now. However, no dancing was ever perfectly in place. It was kind of like whenever you go to the beach, swimming in the water, how the waves tended to drift you away from where you’d originally started. You’d curse for a good ten minutes trying to find your blanket and parasol. Now you were struggling to find your friends, when you felt a hand encircling your wrist, and pulling you closer towards a chest covered in familiar black and white stripes. A red hot blazer matching his hair was Hoseok. “You look a little lost,” he said, dominating the space between you with his height. It should have overwhelmed you, perhaps even frightened you a little, but you hadn’t made any plans to pull back from him. It was probably all of the whiskey, but you found yourself rather enjoying the odd turn of events. Remaining captured by him, you stepped closer, “You’re an acquaintance now, so maybe not.” That slow, insufferable grin broke out across his handsome face, “What an honor.” The way he’d fucking said it – the deep tone he’d used on you didn’t make you feel any safer. He turned you so that your back was against the solid wall of his chest, the music suggestive and pulsating – easy for your body to follow, as you gave an experimental roll of your hips. He tightened his hold on you, digging his fingers into your waist to hold you against him more firmly. “What happened to the girl that you were speaking with earlier?” Had she been smarter than you? Did she know well enough to run? The puffs of air from his laughter reached your skin, teasing you, “My face must’ve scared her off.” You doubted that was the truth, even if the cuts and bruises were questionable. He had a small nose and a heart-shaped mouth with a beauty mark on his top, curvy lip. Hoseok was attractive, busy style aside – he was still dressed like he had money, and the energy he exuded was intimidating. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access. “How did you get those marks?” “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question,” he chided, as he purposefully sighed his breath against the small hairs at the back of your neck. Your body’s response was immediate, as a chill had run through you. Your nipples were already sensitive and erect beneath the material of your dress, sticky warmth pooling between your thighs. Hoseok asked, “Who was that guy with his hands all over you?” You gasped when you felt his teeth pressing into your skin. It took effort to keep your hips moving in rhythm, as if you weren’t affected, “My friend, Taehyung.” “Oh?” He laughed, minus the incredulity. Hoseok knew what close friends were capable of doing. He was responsible for doing plenty of damage in that field, specifically with Yoongi, but that didn’t stop him from feigning innocence, however minute. “Do friends usually touch each other like that?” God – you slid your hand up into his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to your skin. The growl he emitted reverberated through his chest, enticed by your willingness. Your eyes closed when you felt his tongue trace hard circles into your neck, marking you up. It was difficult to concentrate, “It’s my turn.” He mouthed at the sensitive shell of your ear, “Answer me.” “No, they don’t, but–” Why were you about to justify your friendship with Taehyung? The important question. “What about acquaintances?” “Not here,” you said and it was the line that you kept repeating, more to yourself, than to him. Not here where your friends could see you. Not tonight, where your friends should be your first priority. Your friends. You were far out into the ocean, you realized, lost to the sharks – helpless to the hand splayed across your jawline, so that he could sink his teeth into your bottom lip until he tasted blood. You hummed at the back of your throat, leaning up to deepen the kiss. You could taste the alcohol when he filled your mouth with his tongue, the hand in your hair pulling you tight against him – keeping you still, angling his mouth to fit yours perfectly. You were mindful of the cut on his lip, gentle in your every caress, different to how rough and fiery he was – desperately pressing into you like you were set to expire. He was the first to pull back, slow and reluctant, before he leveled his face to look at you seriously, “I don’t want to be done with you.” You were drunk – he was drunk, this was all a bit much. You’d known Hoseok for like two seconds, yet you were ready to toss the entire night for him. Your gut told you to stay the hell away from him earlier and this was why. You were weak. Seokjin showed up less than a moment later, eyes as wide as saucers with his eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Wow! Hello. Nice to meet you.” Hoseok partially released you in order to shake his hand when it was extended to him. Your friend continued, “She’ll deny it, but I’m her father. We don’t go by logic in our household.” “This is Jimin’s friend, Hoseok,” you said, inching the rest of the way out of the redhead’s arms, suddenly overwhelmed with shame. It felt like you were in trouble, despite being a mature adult. “Jimin’s friend,” Seokjin echoed, digesting the information for as little as it was worth. His main concern was you. “Joon and I are leaving, since we have a long day tomorrow, lots to do still. Are you still spending the night or…?” You gave a small nod, your face burning up at what he was insinuating, “Yes.” As though you’d stay behind just to sleep with a complete stranger, which you might’ve if he hadn’t saved you. What the hell was wrong with you? You stared up at the chilled expression on Hoseok’s face and were at a loss for words, knowing that it was in your best interest not to ask for his information. Cut it off now. But he was so, so… “Nighty night, sweetheart,” was all you got from him, with a soft brush of his thumb across your cheekbone, feather-light. Then he sauntered off, disappearing into the crowd. Just like that, he was gone. Seokjin turned to you, the look on his face soured, “The fuck was that?” “An almost mistake,” you said, sobering up more than you would have liked to. You grabbed onto his arm when he offered it, and left the club, sad and embarrassed.

Getting drunk was a slow process for Hoseok, given his high tolerance for it. Fifth drink in and he managed it just fine, tipping the glass of clear liquid to the back of his throat with a satisfied hiss. One thing Hoseok was good at was investments and he’d made a decision that night. Earlier he’d sent the blonde on her way, because he’d already settled on you. A wedding on Sunday caught his attention, but then he took you in, and he’d allowed his mind to wander. It was the icing on the cake. Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin – it was something he could look up on Facebook later, to become familiar with, to build a story off of. He would have asked Jimin for more details, but he was already gone. The mochi slipped out the back exit with that tall, raven haired kid. Hoseok had forgotten to inquire about him, although he doubted that you were ever in bad company. He saw the way your friends had protected you out on the floor, like you were their little princess. A touch of spite had him being handsy with you, deliberately possessive. The premature kiss he’d landed nearly stole your breath away. You were his in that moment – his and not theirs. It’d felt so good to have you, even if it was for such a short duration. He squeezed the lime wedge into his tequila, taking his drink from the bar counter, and hadn’t been prepared for his walk to turn into a stumble. Ah, shit. A large hand on his shoulder made him a bit more stable. He slurred out a thanks, wincing when his back met the counter, and he was pushed onto a stool. Taehyung released Hoseok and took a seat next to him at the bar. He smiled at the bartender, “Coffee, please.” Just as the redhead went to take another swig of alcohol, Taehyung placed his hand over it, and brought the glass down forcibly. Hoseok laughed, making a weak effort to remove the hand over his drink. “Listen, I can take a lot more.” When he looked up, he immediately recognized Taehyung as the guy with his hands on his investment. Time to perform. Hoseok flashed his teeth, “Hey, it’s you! You’re the guy with the friend. The friend who is probably giving my friend a good dicking as we speak.” “Guk and Jimin?” Taehyung asked, trading out Hoseok’s tequila for the coffee. “That’s the one, yes,” Hoseok said, as he took a sip of his warm beverage, not at all pleased with the bitter taste of it, but mannerisms weren’t lost on him. He slumped forward with a groan, giving a brief flutter of his lashes – finding it difficult to open them again. Taehyung nudged him after a moment, trying to shake him awake, “Uhm, dude?” It wasn’t the first time he had to take care of someone. Most of his hyungs had their moments of irresponsibility. Taehyung reached over to start casually searching Hoseok’s pocket for his phone. It was broken to high hell, like he’d tossed it one too many times in a game of fetch. There was no lock on it, which made helping him that much easier. The last text received was from Grumpy hyung. Taehyung was quite good at dealing with angry people, it was his forte if you will, but this person seemed to care. The messages were a worried array of, ‘We need to talk’, ‘Seok, please pick up’, and ‘Don’t do anything stupid’. He pressed the button to call, slightly anxious due to the fact that it was two in the morning, and was underprepared for the cost of such an inconvenience. What Taehyung hadn’t been prepared for was the voice on the other end, all low and rough like gravel. The Daegu accent was thick as it poured through the line, “Hoseok? I didn’t think you’d be the first one to call. Why is it so fucking loud?” Taehyung swallowed down the lump in his throat, “Hi…” “My, Hoseok, what a deep voice you have…” Yoongi rolled his eyes, trying to identify which one of their asshole friends had stolen his phone, but was coming up short. “I’m actually,” Taehyung started, struggling to come up with some plausible explanation. It needed to sound right – this guy was already being critical, he could tell. “…wondering how I should send your friend home. He had one too many and is passed out. I could drop him off myself or you could come get him?” “You’re from Daegu,” the blonde mused, suddenly not so annoyed with having to pick up Hoseok for the umpteenth time in the middle of the night. “So are you,” Taehyung said, waiting in a silence that was comfortable, and electric – better than the high he got from dancing. Yoongi reached for his boots, “Text me the address and I’ll meet you outside.” Taehyung didn’t know why he was nodding, considering the fact that the other guy couldn’t even see him, “I will.” “Good.” He looked down at the cracked phone in his hand, texting the address with shaking fingers to a one Grumpy hyung. He held onto the other’s phone in case he received a response and moved to sling Hoseok’s arm around his shoulders, and lifted him. Despite being decently tall as well, Hoseok wasn’t all that difficult to carry out of the club. The summer air turned cold due to how late it was in the evening, a breeze softly brushing the light brown hair out of Taehyung’s face. He’d dressed for the heat of the club, wearing his torn fitted jeans, and a loose shirt that was clinging to his tanned skin with sweat. Hopefully the drop in temperature would be enough to dry him off some. He was careful when setting them both down on the concrete, their backs against the building. Hoseok’s head kept falling against his shoulder and he hadn’t cared to adjust it. There was no telling how long Grumpy would take. Taehyung allowed the low hum of the music to override the sounds of busy traffic, trying his best to stay awake, but was failing miserably. Not even the excitement in his gut from getting to meet Hoseok’s hyung was enough to keep him from sleep. Yoongi had never liked the club scene. He was an indoor cat for a reason, preferring to stay inside his studio, and work on his music until seven in the morning, where his creative flow would forcibly shut down for sleep. He pulled up at the Bizarre, flipping off the valet, as he opted to do the parking himself. A fucking valet. He closed his car door and searched outside the club. It wasn’t difficult to spot Hoseok’s bright red hair. He cursed under his breath as he approached, not yet realizing that the other man was asleep. The fellow Daegu boy had his head resting against Hoseok’s, ash brown hair touching red. He was slightly darker than Hoseok, enough to be considered the sun 2.0 – a different source of light, a stronger, possibly more sustainable source of light, which Yoongi was drawn to, had always been drawn to with Jung Hoseok. Taehyung felt, more than saw the other’s presence, as he stirred awake, “Are you going to take a picture or what?” The offer was tempting, but Yoongi found himself declining, “I’m here for Hoseok.” “Grumpy hyung?” Taehyung asked, staring up into the soft cat-like features of the blonde. He was smaller than he envisioned, but that face didn’t disappoint – the face was rather pretty, thick lashes framing his dark brown eyes. “Grumpy hyung…” Yoongi trailed, before the realization sunk in. “Is that what that prick put me down in his phone as?” Taehyung smiled wide and boxy, unable to keep in the laugh that erupted from him. Yoongi didn’t know what to do with such a thing, the sound itself cutting him in places he’d once been safely guarded. This was bad. “I’m Taehyung.” ‘No, you’re the sun,’ Yoongi wanted to argue. After several long moments of staring down at the guy, he finally answered him, “I’m Yoongi.” “Yoongi,” Taehyung repeated, testing the name out on his tongue. He liked it a bit too much, enjoyed the way it fit the rest of him. “Let me help get him to your car.” It would be easier on him, so Yoongi agreed with a short nod, watching the way Taehyung helped Hoseok up to his feet with minimal effort. He was taller than Yoongi, taller than Hoseok even, and wider – thigh muscles filling out his jeans, shirt low cut, and showing off the smooth skin of his collarbone. A night filled with alcohol and dancing left a deep blush across Taehyung’s skin, his eyes fierce when they met Yoongi’s, catching him staring. There was a fucking freckle on Taehyung’s nose and another on his waterline. It was almost offensive how attractive it was, how unfair, and ridiculous. Wounded, Yoongi tore his eyes away, but felt unashamed of the fact that he’d openly checked Taehyung out. The boy was probably already aware of his beauty. Yoongi pressed the button on his keypad to unlock the car doors, watching as Taehyung carefully set Hoseok into the backseat. “Do you need a ride?” he asked, trying not to sound so hopeful. Taehyung passed Hoseok’s phone over, “I was gonna walk, since it’s…literally right around the corner.” Well, shit. “Taehyung,” Yoongi said, wanting those eyes on him one last time. Of course, it only made him want more of it. “Thanks for the help.” He smiled, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Of course. Good night, Yoongi.” “Night…” sunshine. Taehyung left, wondering if Jeongguk and Jimin would become more – wondering if Jimin knew Yoongi. He wondered how long it would take him to acquire Yoongi’s number, so that he could hear the other’s tired voice again. The thought of it was enough to give him chills. For the first time in Taehyung’s life, he wanted to be chased after. He wanted to belong to someone.

#btsprotectnet #networkbangtan #kwordsmiths #bangtanarmynet #Hoseok x Reader #Hoseok Smut #BTS Smut #Jhope x Reader #Jhope Smut #BTS Scenarios #BTS Fan fics #WeddingCrasher!AU #Wedding Crasher

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kokiri-at-the-pack · 4 years ago

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0820

August 20

I waited for the effect of an ability to disappear. It was out of curiosity on how long the guy named Steven would “pretend” to be friendly towards me. However, Steven hadn’t changed his behavior a bit. In fact, he was the first one to start the conversation or introduce me to his friends today. What’s more, he even ate lunch with me, the course in which I used to spend my time alone. He would ask trivial questions like my life before I came to the present school, or he would share his own story: that he moved from another country, that he had been shy to talk to strangers before and etc.

Although I tried my best to give him a response, back in my head, I did not know if the situation I was in was natural at all. I thought my ability was temporary. The effect should have been off now, returning Steven into one of the guys who had not mind me at all. Is my “visualization” becoming permanent? Knowing that his actions were only derived from my ability and awkwardness of talking to a student for a long time no doubt made me restless. I must give it a test on how it works. I can’t believe I do not know what I’m capable of doing properly…!

But...in spite all these…for some reason...

I didn't hate it.

August 25

I managed to draw more illustrations. This time, I divided them into two categories. One was a pack of simple items I thought my family would want the most: money, a plane ticket for family vacation and other random things. Another was a series of events. I sketched those that I had personally wished to occur. It was not easy to come up with them at once, but at last I narrowed them into two. I was reminded that I had a presentation tomorrow so I drew myself confidently reporting my assignment to my classmates and teachers to get good grades(my main objective). That’s one of my drawings for my personal desires. The second was drawing some of my classmates and teachers to make them have different personalities from their usual. If a guy was selfish, I drew him as a coward. If a teacher was cold-hearted, I made her the exact opposite. I didn't know how long it took to finish all of these sketches, and I had to do it secretly. Nowadays, Mother did not give me compliments for drawing; in fact, I was sure she hated me seeing me like this. Once, I tried to ask Father to convince her, but he only defended her and asked me not to disturb her anymore. Was he scared of her? To be honest, his behavior was like a person in front of a bomb that was about to explode when one single thing was handled incorrectly. There was no such thing as “bright” in my household. Ah, Mother is asking me to go to bed. I am getting busy lately, so I don’t think I can write as much as before. But if the results of my experiment appear, I can write them down here in my diary.

August 26

I have finally grasped the exact mechanism of my ability. This morning, all the items I drew--cash, a plane ticket and etc--were materialized on my desk when I woke up. I remember it was around 6 AM at that moment. However, at 7 AM, when it was time for me to go to school, they were all gone like thin air. It looks like my power to maintain an object is not professional yet; it would only last for an hour or less.

As for the event, I have never seen my ability work like what I discovered today. Steven remained as a gentle guy and said hi to me in the hallway, but that wasn’t what surprised me. The moment I entered the classroom, I knew the environment differed from usual. I saw Sean at the back, yet something was off. He was one of the most talkative boys whose voice shook the whole classroom. But today, he was just by himself and was quietly reading a book on his seat. When his friends talked to him, he would shyly back away or rather listen to their stories. This was quite a shock to them as he was usually the one to lead the conversation. Not only Sean, but also Erika, a mean girl who bragged about herself often, had a change of personality. She suddenly started to share sweets with us, together with complimenting how we look joyfully. Few more students and teachers had changed as well, whose names I can’t mention as the list would become too long. They had kept their new personalities throughout the whole school day.

After lunch, the time for presenting my project came. At first, I thought there wasn’t any effect on me. I was still a nervous, frightened girl who could only speak softly. With my handmade chart about animal and plant cells, I attempted to stop my hands shaking and opened my mouth to utter at least a word.

Then I heard someone exclaiming amazement. I turned to where it came from. It was Erika.

“I love your drawing!” She was referring to the chart.

One by one, my classmates gave interest to it and encouraged me to present each part. Their words were followed by my advisor’s generous comment that I earned half a point by my diligence in the science project and that I would get the rest if I share how I managed to create it. That was when my confusion was replaced with a more positive emotion. When was the last time I was recognized as a talented person in the community? The rest did not need to be explained. After my presentation ended, I received the loudest applause everywhere. Students...my teacher… all admiring me alike...I could forget what I was going through at home for a while. I was no longer a wallflower.

It was clear. My ability displayed greater and more everlasting effect on events I want than ordinary items.

If only I can use this to my advantage…!

September 10

I wasn’t able to write as many entries as before due to my school work. Fortunately, I am able to record this one as I have thought today’s experience was worth remembering.

Ever since my drawings resulted in long-running changes of my classmates and teachers’ characters, I noticed that I became closer to them--with some whom I can call best friends. What’s more, I could find that my school life was getting more enjoyable and helping me not to mind the tension surrounding my family. Yet, I never forgot Steven, the very first student who approached me voluntarily. Frequently, he was the one to help me when I was having difficulties understanding topics for our exams. When we were free, we would eat lunch together and share any topic which would be interesting to both of us. Once I thought that that was his original personality. That he was always a good guy who never discriminated against his friends by who they were. On the other hand, I was afraid that he would suddenly change his behavior towards me when the effect of my ability wears off. Whatever it was, I did not have a clear idea, but what was sure was that my friendship with him was getting deeper compared to the rest of my friends.

Was it because of that bond that I made such a “decision?”

The day was remarkably rainy. The sky was as gray as ashes, and the sound of the rain was enough to make anyone feel downgraded. Nevertheless, I managed to arrive at the school on time, and the first thing I did was to look for Steven. That was because I borrowed his notebook for assistance in terms of my assignment, and I promised to return it to him today. When I opened the door to his classroom, however, his seat was empty. How strange. He should be reading his new book by now. I asked a student nearby about his whereabouts.

“Steven? I saw him go out minutes ago. He looked awfully quiet,” she replied.

Where would he be? Oh, well. He must be busy. I put down his notebook on his desk and headed back to my classroom. But I did not take more than five steps when I spotted an unexpected sight.

On the other side of the hallway, there was the guy I was searching for, but something seemed bizarre about him. His face contained shadow and appeared gloomy, his signature smile nowhere to be seen. What surprised me more was his action of climbing the stairs to the rooftop. It was raining at the moment! What was wrong with him?

I quickly followed his steps and covered my face with my hands to see through the rain properly. Luckily, Steven was not difficult to find. He was just standing in front of the railings. He was just staring at the distance, oblivious of his wet body and clothes. I tapped his shoulder, asked him what was wrong and told him that I was worried if he might catch a cold.

“Sorry…” he refused, “I just want to be alone.”

“Then at least go back inside please. Look at yourself!”

“...I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. He did not look fine at all. I ignored his reply and took off my jacket. I put it around him and brought him inside the building and to the nearby bench. He showed a sign of rejection at first but after that, he simply let me take control. Then I used my jacket as a towel and softly rubbed his drenched hair and uniform. Steven��s head was down and did not utter a single word.

When I was finished, I calmly asked him again what was going on in his head. What would make a guy like Steven depressed and powerless? I stayed by his side without further conversation. A minute passed...Then two...three… I did not know how much, but after some time, Steven began to whisper, followed by a sudden sob.

“I just...don’t like myself,” he sniffed.

I turned to him. Those words were something I never thought to come out from Steven at all. It was the first time he ever talked about how he saw himself. I let him continue.

“I caused my team to lose because I was not good at sports...Some guys ignored me just because I was not as strong or active as them...And...and…”

Tears began to stream down his cheeks.

“I disappointed my family…!”

“Wh--what do you mean?”

“I made them worry...because I was too quiet...could not socialize...could not study well...They must have thought something was wrong with me. They had their own concerns, but I exhausted them more. And now...they are going to be separate, and they told me I’m going to move to my aunt’s house when I graduate…”

I could not speak a word.

“They do not want me anymore. I am sure of it. Ah, I think I’m going to be a burden to my aunt, too…!”

I wanted to comfort him. Tell him that nothing was his fault. Tell him that he was one of the best people she ever met.

But I also knew that mere words don’t always cheer people up. In fact, they would sometimes result in more damages and be interpreted as a lack of sympathy. More importantly, they are not the ones to directly solve the problem. Still, I wished Steven to smile again. Of course, it might have been because of my ability, but he supported me to enjoy school in several ways that I wanted to do something for him as well.

...That’s right. My drawing.

I briefly recalled one of my wonderful incidents I had when I was an elementary student. It was when my neighbor lost her puppy and could not find him for months. With a simple wish to help her, I asked her how he looked and drew her finding him again, grasping the precious family member tightly. That miracle came true the next day, and up to now, I can remember her bright smile with joyful tears on her face. My drawing made her happy.

Can the similar thing happen to Steven?

An instant spark of brilliant ideas led me to ask Steven to share with me his family picture so that I can clearly remember how his parents look like. Then with a single intention of retrieving Steven’s joy, I drew a couple of sheets of Steven smiling and him spending good time with his family and friends.

September 11

Praying for my ability to work on Steven, I opened the door of his classroom and called him outside. He stared at me curiously, probably wondering the reason why I wanted to talk to him. So far, I could not read his emotions, but his face appeared better than before. If I was correct, his personal problem yesterday would be gone by now. I asked him if he was feeling alright.

Steven tilted his head with a confused look. It was as if he did not comprehend my question. Then he gave me an answer which I did not anticipate at all.

“What do you mean? I was sad? Crying?”

For seconds, I thought I was hallucinating. With a stutter, I repeated my question and explained his sadness and confession towards me about his view on himself and his family issues. Steven laughed and disregarded them as a joke.

“You must have had a weird dream about me,” he chuckled, “I’ve never thought about them at all. Nor my classmates. Besides, why would I have an issue with my parents?”

I wasn’t able to move an inch even after Steven went back to his classroom. Why was he acting that way? Was he the same guy who talked about the burden? It seemed like he forgot yesterday's event entirely. I don’t think my ability worked that way before.

What in the world happened to me?

#oc #lightonme #fiction #diary #visualizer

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