#Second Life Vintage Fair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jellicatty · 1 month ago

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♯1 ┆ ❝ SUMMER BUMMER ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. nana and higu golfing. masturbation. grinding. mutual pinning. innuendos. nana and higu are perverts here. jealous! higuruma. reader is a tease. reader wear skirts.

╰┈➤ note : EEEE FINALLY I POSTED THIS it only took me like a months... anywayy, sex scenes aren't really my forte plus this is like the first time i wrote one sooo don't expect too much (?).

╰┈➤ next : groupie love (coming soon) ...

Defendants would put all the blame on him, the court's verdict is seemingly destined to oppose his favor. Or, that's what Higuruma thought. Another failed case, another living being failed by the country's unjust system, another alleged victim thrown into jail.

Higuruma though, knew that these circumstances would happen. His dream have lasted for centuries, formed by his compassion to deliver the accused to light. But little by little, his principles have formed cracks.

Although his workaholic nature is unfaltering, worsened by the multitude of paperworks, Higuruma does crave for rest. But, his work-life balance contradicts his need for relaxation. Until, the opportunity had arrived and he's now trudging to a bar.

To passerby, it was your typical, vintage bar that old and worn-out folks like him would visit. However, Higuruma saw it as a sanctuary for his deep troubles. From drinking with his colleagues or just simply letting his usually work-occupied mind slip away, his favorite bar had seen it all.

"One— No, three of these, please." His ever polite tone still there even as the hours of long work shouldered him down.

The atmosphere rivaled the comfort of his home, and it's probably why Higuruma had an liking for it.

"You're being carried away by your thoughts, Mr. Higuruma." The bartender was quick to notice his blank expression, placing his ordered drinks in an attempt to distract his mind from work.

But, the bartender knew Higuruma too well. Despite connecting only through brief conversations, and a short time together, the bartender had a sense of what Higuruma's state of mind is at the end of the day.

"If you want to take off your mind away from work, then I suggest doing something else for a change." Well, this hasn't been the first time the advice was given to the attorney. He's had his fair share of therapeutic tips from concerned people. None were able to fully convince him though.

"I don't... I'm too busy."

"You wallow in self-pity, yet do nothing to save yourself from it. I've met other people like you, people who find comfort in what makes them distraught." Instead of his duties, the bartender was now focused on Higuruma. "It doesn't end good for them. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that easy to let go of something that you've dedicated your whole life too."

"I'm sure nothing will be lost if you do let go for a fraction of a second."

"You're not going to give this up, huh?" Higuruma sighed, "Well, I'd like to keep a valuable customer." They both chuckled at the Bartender's wishes. After some thought and a drink or two, Higuruma was set on the decision to make some small changes in his life for once.

The problem is, what would be the change?

Gym was out of the question since he frequently did so. Hiking's too taxing and he can't leave his duties for a long time. Sports were a possibility, as long as it didn't physically exert him that much. Golfing, maybe? He thought.

"One of the gents at the bar earlier has been to the newly opened golfing course here."

Ah, golfing it is.

"I think that young fellow over there needs a getaway from their life, too." His focus turned to the younger, blond man sitting three stools away. A few bottles have been emptied, yet it was evident that he could go for a few more. Nothing outstanding from the man aside from his leopard-pattern tie. Just your typical, fatigue worker.

"Looks like you're also preoccupied with your mind, Sir Nanami. I take it as a bad day?"

"No need to say more."

Although Higuruma knew it was not the best to disturb the tired man, he thought that perhaps talking to him would make their mundane nights better. Maybe, to comfort him with the words he wished to hear.

"Sorry for intruding your conversation, but are you new here?"

"Nope. Been here for some time now. Just been a bit busy with some... grueling reports again." He winced at the mention of his work.

"Reports?"

"I'm a salaryman." Higuruma now turned his full attention on Nanami, filling his curiosity. He hands out a calling card, "Here, just in case." And for a brief second, Higuruma almost laughs at his own 'joke' that he always did with his new acquaintances. Fortunately for him, Nanami's humor was not yet stripped away by his boring profession and softly smiled at his friendly remark.

It's a simple change like this is what Nanami wanted. Nothing extraordinary, nothing too small to notice too. The two men shared their experiences, silently bonding over the heavy troubles they carried from day to night. And if they were being honest, this was one of those moments where they surely won't forget. It's like moments like this was there only escape from the tiring duties they must do.

Alas, the deepest night has caught up to them. The lulling blue tones that played throughout their visit no longer graced their ears. The only noise present was their chatter and the kind bartender's huffing and puffing of cigarette.

"You know, despite your gruff look, you're an approachable guy. A fun one too if you squinted."

"Oh, gruff? You should check a mirror, Higuruma."

The two men chuckled at their jokes, slowly packing up their own belongings before cleaning their surroundings. After they finished, they walked together outside.

The blistering cold of the night quickly breezed past the two men. A shiver and a small breath of fresh air later, they nodded at each other and departed from the bar with heavy steps.

The night was still young, and Higuruma's desperate for a change. Fortunately, Nanami Kento had arrived. Albeit small, Nanami still had made a difference to Higuruma's perpetual enervating days.

He doesn't want their interactions to remain just at the bar, though. Perhaps, he should suggest on golfing together to help the blond too.

The summertime heat was merciless. As one could anticipate for this time of year. In the intense heat, Higuruma and Nanami were helpless. Their experienced selves took turns swinging their golf clubs, finding entertainment in their calculated swings and triumphant shots. Empty cups scattered on their table, their belongings left unattended.

Golf seemed like a good start—and maybe their greatest choice by far. It was not only a nice diversion, but it also provided them with the ideal reason to spend time with their favorite entertainment—you, the beverage cart girl.

Weeks have passed, and life has been more tolerable. The first golf meets with Nanami were riddled with a comfortable silence, as if the two men had known each other for a while. The only bond they had was formed on their sleepless nights and persistent work, yet conversations flowed effortlessly. With their unfading politeness and formal talking that stayed even during their golf meets. They both assumed that the other was righteous, and a man of good qualities. Damn were they wrong.

Refined. Upright. Gentlemanly. Those words that used to describe the two men were long discarded. Since your arrival, the two men had been nothing but good, their true colors spilling from the shells of who they used to be. Higuruma could still vividly recall the moment where their true selves slipped. Their gazes were fixed only on you that day, overfilled with joy once you asked for their orders in that sweet voice you had. And right after you left them with their hard rock problems to themselves, they turned to each other as if their eyes alone could communicate. A word did not need to be shared. They knew that you were going to be a problem.

"What do you think's the color of her panties this time, Nanami?" Higuruma positioned his hips in a more appropriate manner, then swung his club.

"That cheeky woman loves pink," Nanami replied.

Aside from golf, they engaged in another game — guessing the color of your panties. As suggested by Higuruma when he caught a glimpse of it a few days ago, this was now the two men's favorite pastime. To them, it seemed only fair since you'd purposely bend over to shamelessly give them a view of your lace-trimmed panties that matched your outfits.

"I highly doubt it will be pink again—"

Out of nowhere, the faint noise of tires screeching slowly approached the two men. Puzzled, they looked at each other first, before turning around. Their eyes confusedly searched for the noise, before their gazes landed on the approaching golf cart— or rather, you.

It was as if you were the oasis in the Sahara desert, quenching the men's thirst with your exposed skin and alluring smile. With your pastel yellow pleats that went inches above your knee, your tight-fit Lululemon jacket that hugged your delectable figure, and your glamoured face, you joyfully steered the cart towards them.

Your beautiful smile greeted them, "Sir Kento! Sir Hiromi! I've brought you your drinks again!"

Higuruma's typically vacant eyes had their spark back to them, the usual boring look it wore instantly disappearing. Meanwhile, the hard lines of Nanami’s face eased, his stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

You hopped off your seat and prepared their ordered drinks, blind to their improper gazes that seek your undergarment.

Luck was merciful, and the world was on their side today when a breeze had swept your skirt upwards in a cartoonish fashion.

"Oh!" Your cheeks flushed scarlet at the embarrassing incident, yet your hands take their time to pull down your skirt.

Their eyes are quicker than your hands, ill-intent gazes finding your undergarment in a flash. Light pink and polka dotted, adorned with a small bow at the front. The kind of panties that he envisioned every night. Nanami snickered, proving himself to be right once again.

"Pay up," Higuruma grumbled, cursing the man under his breath. Their actions no longer define the men they used to be. Their gentlemanliness and polished attitudes dissipate into the air at the sight of you.

"Thanks, angel. You know how to make our day better, huh?" Nanami returned your smile and took the drinks from your hand.

Higuruma is not oblivious enough to overlook Nanami's full interest in you. He's sure that a deprived man like him would ogle at your frame. He applauded the blond's self-control because, God, mini skirts were the death of him.

"That would beeee... 12 dollars!"

"12 only?" Higuruma pulled out his wallet and handed more than the said amount, "Here, keep the change, sweetie." However, your hands clumsily dropped the money.

Your breasts from the tight-fit jacket were threatening to spill out as you bent down to grab the fallen change. Although involuntarily, the two men were able to shortly glance at it and oh, my— what a sight. Two mounds pressed tightly together, sweat sensually gliding on your skin, the natural red flush adding more allure.

Their throats ran dry, needing a refreshment as they were taken aback by the promiscuous view of your tits. There's no way that wasn't intentional, they thought.

Although you often pulled those stunts, your shyness still lingered— a thing that they grew fondness for. You excused your blunder, timidly covering your face as you walked back to your cart.

"Aw, you going so soon?" You knew Higuruma would call for you. After all, he enjoyed your presence and often was the one chatting with you. From his smirk though, you should have known he had something in store for today.

"Come, let Mr. Kento here teach you some golf lessons." Higuruma's true goal of making you break in broad daylight is hidden under his hoax suggestion. Nanami, with his sharp senses, saw Higuruma's real intention, irritated at being his guinea pig for entertainment.

Despite his annoyance, he gratifies the other man's idea. Now, he has an inexcusable reason to close the proximity between you.

You asked the man in your honeyed voice "Would it be okay, Sir Kento?", so sweet it's almost sickly. His ears are focused on your saccharine voice, contradicting his jumbled thoughts that insisted he was sick of hearing it, fearing how much power your words have over him. His mind wonders; Would you have that same, sugary and sweet voice? Would your moans echo like candy, alluring and irresistible?

Nanami's attention was quickly drawn to you, looking up at him, his bulging biceps pressed against your tits. Your big, doll-like eyes are desperate to be taught. Nanami wonders again if you'd have the same look when he'll be ruining you.

"Pleaaseee! My shift will be finished soon!" Your pout was his last straw, a victim to your begging once again. Sighing, Nanami agreed to your requests.

"Yay! Thank you, Sir Kento!"

"Calm down, sweets. Mr. Kento here is going to malfunction if you keep on clinging to him like that." Higuruma snickered at Nanami's flustered face. "Oh, I apologize, Sir Kento!" You sheepishly backed away and regretted your actions.

The truth is, it wasn't just the two men that had their perverse fantasies. You too suffered their charm. Whether it be downing the alcohol they ordered, or simply breathing, it always had been a distraction for you. Their Ralph Lauren polos hugged their bodies in a nice fit, outlining their flexed muscles that shone deliciously under their sweat and the sun's rays. Thick, defined thighs, straining their pants. Even when playing normally, their wealth and professionalism exuded, something that you found very appealing.

"Bend with your hips, Y/n. Not your waist." Would it be wrong to say that you found his strict demeanor attractive? Would it also be wrong to think of the many things Nanami would order you to do in bed?

"Aaand— Did I do it right?!" Nanami's advice went through and exited your ear. Your swings misaligned and your ball never reached the goal.

"Gosh, you're a lost cause, angel. This is how it's done." Without warning, Nanami walked to your back. His proximity was sinful as his crotch settled at your ass, the sudden closeness eliciting a small, shocked gasp from you.

"Like..." He's also affected by the warmth and comfort your ass gave, hot breath fanning over your neck. He extended his arm and put them over yours, guiding your own so you can swing in a correct manner. "This."

But, aiming for the goal was the least of your worries. Not when Nanami's cock is noticeably hardening against your ass.

"There, you did it!"

A mix of disbelief and amusement flickered on Higuruma's face. Regret washed over him as Nanami took his suggestion to another level, scolding himself for underestimating the blond's courage and will to tease you right in front of him. With no escape, he's now forced to watch the consequences of his actions unfold. Yet, despite the pure jealousy clouding his mind, he does admit that the scene was enticing.

His thoughts are improper and vulgar, your flushed expression fueling him more. His train of thought is unavoidable though. Whenever Nanami teased you in broad daylight, publicly, and in front of him, his thoughts will surely be anything but pure.

"S-Sir Hiromi—!" Your voice cried, not for help but for his attention. A whore like you loved the attention. You loved Higuruma's disgusted scowl as he watched the two of you get handsy. You loved Higuruma's body, which reacted opposed to his shown expressions— his bulge visible while his face grimaced.

But, his thoughts got the best of him, and you only wanted to share your achievement.

"Did you s-see my shot? It was perfect!" You finally let out a breath when Nanami pulled away, not without a small, teasing comment whispered at you.

Let him watch.

Oh, you will.

Another time, though, because Higuruma's jealousy was painfully cutting through the air. His patience was wearily thin, and it's all because you cannot stop grinding on Nanami's bulge.

Determined to outdo the blond's ministrations, and also ease his jealousy, Higuruma chimes in., "You mind for a dinner together? Could tell that you need a break just from your eyes alone, sweets."

The sudden attention left you light-headed, shocked with their unspoken rivalry. You had power and influence over them, and you know just how to use it. But for now, your mind could only focus on the fact that you were going to dinner with your client. You’ve overstepped so many rules and most probably going to be in trouble, but a night with a man like Higuruma Hiromi was something you won’t deny.

Nanami sees your excitement. Feeling the sprouted competition happening between him and his friend, he quickly interjects, "I still don't have your number either. What is it, angel?"

Higuruma's betting on all of his suits (which are all expensive, by the way) that Nanami's going to fuck his fist to your pictures tonight. And he wasn't wrong. Because, as soon as Nanami arrived home, his first thought was to check your socials (surprisingly, not his paperwork). He was initially confused since you had an innocent facade online. Shared religious quotes, pictures with family, not a single photo where your boobs are out for everyone to see. He's even doubting if he followed the correct account. The only confirmation he had that it was yours was the new story you had posted.

It was you, right after your shift, posing in front of the mirror with a smile. Your caption about thanking the Lord for another day made him laugh. He's confident that you're praising Nanami for his ministrations earlier instead.

Nanami also wholeheartedly believes you're thanking him too for pressing his hard cock on your ass. He's flattered, and fucking horny, still bothered by the stunt he pulled earlier.

His erection is painful, and Nanami realizes how he could take care of it. Although feeling a bit perverse at the act he's about to do, he shoves his second thoughts away, eager to cum at a picture of you.

His lengthy dick is in his hand, gliding against his tip, then sliding up and down. His pre cum coated the top, oozing continuously as he stared at your picture on screen.

"Fuuuck..." He groaned, eyes closed, panting at the pleasure he was feeling. He indulges in his fantasies, letting his imagination run wild. He thinks of you inside his bedroom, wearing nothing but your light pink underwear, with polka dots all over and decorated with laces and ribbons. The same panties that he caught a glimpse of that he's so weak for. He's curious about what you'd be like, but he knew your salacious nature, and figured that you'll be the same slut you are.

God, if only you were here.

If you were here, it wouldn't be him toying with himself. It would be you, bouncing up and down, drool dripping from your mouth, as his cock fucks your pussy silly. You'd have that dumb look on your face, mind clouded in a lust-frenzy haze as you desperately begged for more.

"Mhm! Sir Kento!" He knows you'd call out to him, your voice ever-so-sweet, whining and weeping at the fervent feeling of him filling you up.

"Gonna cum inside you." is what he'd say if you were here. And you being you, you're fain of his request, straddling his hips as if it was made to be there. You wouldn't pull away. Instead, you'd remain on his dick as splurges of cum shoot out of it.

"T-thank you, Sir" You'd thank him for drowning your sex with his cum. Nanami would only get hard again at your sweetness that managed to stay in the bedroom, and he'd flip you over and pound himself into you.

His empty promises to himself would be fulfilled one day. But for now, his hand will do.

"S-shit" His voice is shaky, body trembling at his intense high. His palm is dirtied by his cum that he hoped was inside of you instead.

Tonight, it will be his hand. Next week, it will be your mouth. He's certain of that— No, he swears it will be your small mouth wrapped on his cock. Perhaps, with Higuruma fucking you silly too.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world

#comment to be tagged for pt 2!#nanami x reader #higuruma x reader #jjk smut #nanami smut #higuruma smut #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi smut #jjk x reader smut #| 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

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queen-of-deans-booty · 25 days ago

Text

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: minor fluff, angst, murder (implied), character death

Summary: One good deed turns into your worst nightmare, one that you can’t stop from coming.

Square Filled: heartbreak (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Before you can leave the bedroom, Dean pulls you in again and kisses you. He knows exactly what to do to get you to stay, but you promised your friend you’d go shopping with her. You wrap your arms around his neck and allow yourself to get lost in the kiss for exactly five seconds before you pull away.

“I gotta go, Dean,” you giggle.

“Come on, stay. I’ll do that thing you like,” he smirks.

“No. It’s not fair to use sex to hold me here. I’ll only be gone a few hours at most. You’re so clingy,” you laugh and push him off you. “You’ll survive for a few hours. I promise.”

“Okay, fine, but you’re not leaving my bedroom when you get back.”

“Deal,” you chuckle. “If I’m not back by seven, you have my permission to come get me.”

You kiss Dean quickly before leaving the bedroom. Dean won’t let you take his precious car so you opt to take one of the other older ones in the bunker’s garage. They’re all vintage classics that Savy fell in love with when she first saw them. She’ll appreciate you taking the 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Savvy is only in town for a few days on business so you only have a few days to hang with her before she goes back home on the East Coast.

“How are you and Jerry doing?” you ask when you pick her up.

Normally, the drive to the mall is only twenty minutes if you take the main roads and the highway. The weather is nice so you opt to take the back roads which will add another thirty minutes to the ride. Neither of you mind.

“We’re trying for another baby, so that’s exciting.” She already has four kids so you’re surprised she wants to bring another one into the world. “What about you? Any kids for you and Dean?”

“Savy, we’ve only been dating for six months.”

“So? You’re not getting any younger.”

“I don’t want kids, and I don’t think Dean will have an issue with me not wanting kids.” Kids don’t fit into the hunting life. “Plus, we’re taking things at a nice pace. He just asked me to move into the Bunker last week.”

“That must be easier for hunting.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Are you happy, Y/N?”

“Very. Are you happy?”

“I am,” she smiles.

“Good.”

You turn the music up and let the wind blow through your hair as you drive down the desolate road. You turn the corner and see a gray car parked on the side of the road about one hundred yards away. There is a man standing by the car with his hands on his head like he’s stressed about his car situation. You slow down and turn the music off when you approach the man.

“Car trouble?”

“Yeah. My tire is flat, my phone is dead, and I don’t know how to change a tire. I know what you’re thinking. A man doesn’t know how to change a tire? I was never a car man, and no one ever taught me,” he chuckles nervously.

“Do you have a spare?”

“Yeah, in the back.”

“I know how to change a tire. I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”

You pull up in front of the car, and Savy looks at you with concern.

“Are you sure you should be doing this?”

“I’m just changing a tire. It’s fine. Ten minutes tops.” You get out of the car. “Stay here.”

“Thank you for stopping. I would have had to walk home,” the man chuckles. “I’m Peter.”

“Y/N. That’s Savy, and it’s no problem. I’d want someone to stop for me.”

You take the spare from the back and get started on taking the current tire off the car. You have just undone the lugnuts from the rim when your phone rings from your car.

“Dean is calling you.”

“Answer it. Tell him I’ll only be a minute.”

Savy grabs your phone and answers his call.

“Y/N’s phone. How may I help you?”

“Where is Y/N?”

“She’s busy right now. Can I take a message?”

“Just tell her to call me when she can,” Dean says and hangs up. Dean puts his phone down and looks at his brother who is looking at his iPad. “So, you thinking ghost possession?”

“Well, the witnesses claim to see black goo coming out of the victims’ ears before they killed themselves.”

“Yeah, ghost possession. We’ll leave in an hour. We’ll pick up Y/N on the way.” Forty-five minutes later, Dean enters the man cave to grab something when he sees you sitting on the couch staring at the TV that’s turned to the news. “I thought you’d be gone for a few hours. When did you get in?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Oh, well, Sam found a case a few states away. He’s thinking ghost possession. You in?” You don’t answer and continue to look at the TV. “Are you okay?”

“Look what’s on the news.”

Dean walks closer to you and pays attention to the news reporter.

“While on a car chase, authorities discovered a 2003 gray Honda Civic abandoned on the side of the road. When authorities looked closer, there were signs of a struggle. We’re not clear as to what may have taken place, but they found two women’s purses on the ground. It is presumed that two women are missing, but their identities remain a mystery as of right now. Back to you, Sam.”

The news coverage changes to another news reporter who is already on the scene.

“Yes, Jill, what happened here is a tragedy. Local authorities are doing everything they can to locate the two women, hopefully alive.” Shouts from the officers can be heard, and Sam looks behind him to see what is going on. “This just in, I think they found a body.” Sam turns back to the camera. “I am unsure if they are able to identify the body. When we have more information, you’ll be the first to know. Back to you, Jill.”

“Wow, that’s so sad,” Dean says.

You look at Dean with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m at the bottom of Waconda Lake.”

“What?”

“Who are you talking to?” Sam asks when he pops his head in. Suddenly, you mist away, and realization dawns on Dean’s face. His knees buckle and he has to sit down before he crumbles to the ground. “Dude, you okay?”

“I think Y/N’s dead.”

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural fiction

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icallhimjoey · 1 year ago

Note

bestie *grabs you by the face and makes you listen to me* i am obsessed already! there isn't going to be a day where you don't know how to captivate me with your words, it's not fair! so... we're in a wedding dress and we've passed out and joe is wearing the unseen but already infamous olive green vintage suit... now what???

excellent question! here we go (smallest teeny tiny little tw: mention of the thought of someone committing suicide) Wordcount: 2.9K

---

Between Floors and Feelings

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe wasn’t exactly sure how this worked, but being put into a position where he had to take charge, where there didn't seem to be any other choice but to take charge, made it really easy to actually do just that. He took charge.

He just... did it. Went with it. Felt he was doing an okay job at managing it, too.

Sure, he was stuck in a tube station lift after midnight with a pretty girl who had panicked, had seemed to entirely forget how to breathe properly and had made herself pass out, but... he felt like he’d been in worse spots.

At least he knew for certain where you were. Had eyes on you. Could see and would know that you didn't... you know, make silly permanent decisions to what likely were temporary problems.

Because all problems were ultimately temporary, weren't they? Joe believed so, at least.

You’d only been out for a few seconds, hadn't gotten hurt in the process, and from his crouched position next to you, Joe had tried to speak to the lady on the other side of the intercom.

That didn’t work. She asked again if their services were needed, clearly not hearing any of what Joe was trying to tell her.

“Hang on!” Joe shouted over his shoulder towards the corner of the lift, and it made you wince at the sudden loud noise.

Waking up after involuntarily blacking out was awful. Disorienting, unsettling and confusing. Embarrassing too. It also took you a second to fully understand where you were and what had happened, and nothing really clicked into place until the strange man that hovered above you shouted.

Pounding heartbeat.

Lingering headache.

So drained.

“Here,” Joe capped the water bottle he was holding, and placed it down where you could see it. “Can you do one thing for me?”

You tried to sit up, tried to engage your muscles to help you move your head up from the floor.

“Two things!” Joe held up both hands, universal sign for stop. It made you lay back down and relax the muscles of your neck. “Two things, can you do two things for me?”

You groaned, knowing it was important to take things slowly, but you couldn’t feel anything down past your knees and as you told your brain to tell your toes to wiggle inside your shoes, you weren’t sure if anything was even happening down there.

“Don’t move,” Joe counted on a finger held over your face so you could see. “And focus on breathing, okay?”

You felt shaky and your face felt cold – wet – and you lifted hands to touch, to wipe, but your arms were too weak and moving them became just a weird trembling hover of clammy palms over white fabric.

Joe saw, took hold of them both and squeezed.

My God, those were possibly the sweetest most expressive eyes you had ever looked into. This guy looked at you like he'd known you all his life, like he knew exactly what had happened to you earlier that evening, like he could feel everything you were feeling right now.

And it helped.

“Just focus on breathing, nothing else. S’all you’ve got to do,”

Behind him, the static of the intercom died, and Joe muttered, “Oh, fuck,” before quickly getting up and moving towards it, pressing the emergency button once again.

“Inhale,” Joe said, bent with an ear close to the speaker, but eyes on you. One of his arms was stuck out to you, which didn't do anything, but it was nice anyway.

You decided that having just one job to do was actually... sort of nice.

You didn’t need to think of anything else for a second. Didn’t need to think about how the entire night had unfolded. How you’d seen you boyfriend – ex, oh my God, ex-boyfriend now, Jesus Christ. How you’d seen him excuse himself to go to the toilets, but then had seen him walk in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t believe you’d actually seen it.

With your own two eyeballs.

“Exhale,” Joe said and demonstrated an excruciatingly slow escape of his breath through his mouth.

“Keep going, take a minute, all right?”

Focussed. Eyes on the weird ceiling light boxes of the lift. Inhale. You could stay focussed. Just one job. One small task. Exhale. You could do this.

Slowly, you noticed that you could actually feel your feet fine. That your headache wasn't that prominent. Just a background sort of thing, probably because you were slightly dehydrated from the crying, and you listened to the intercom lady talk to Joe.

“Emergency services, how can I assist you?”

“Yes, hello!” Joe sounded unusually upbeat seeing the current situation you found yourselves in. “I am– we are stuck in a lift,” Joe waited a second, hoped maybe some form of acknowledgement would come through. However, it stayed silent, so he continued, “It's just me and one other person in one of the Covent Garden tube station lifts, and–”

Joe got cut off right in the middle of his sentence.

“Hello, emergency services. You have pressed the emergency button in one of our lifts, are you in need of any help?”

Joe stared and blinked at the little holes that formed a larger circle.

“Yea, we're stuck,” you tasted a tinge of annoyance in Joe's tone. “The lift stopped moving and the doors–”

“Hello?”

“Hello?!”

Joe looked at you questioningly disturbed, as if to say, am I crazy? What the fuck's happening?

Then the static of the intercom stopped again. Like they'd hung up on you.

“I think it's broken,” you said, voice way too small for your own liking.

Joe tried again, pressed the emergency button, waited for the static to come on, but the same thing happened. A voice asked if you needed assistance, if you needed any help, but it seemed like the microphone on your end wasn't working properly. They weren't receiving any of what you were saying. Of what Joe was trying to articulate slowly, to enunciate distinctly, and he grew more and more irritated each time he had to repeat himself.

Cool time to feel the urgency within your body that came from your bladder that needed emptying.

You needed to piss badly.

Joe pressed the emergency button again. And then again. Checked his own phone to be presented with the difficult truth that he also did not have any service underground, and then, pressed the emergency button yet again.

What else was there to do? How else were you going to get out of there?

“At some point they must understand,” Joe explained, and you agreed. There was going to have to be a point you could reach by just pressing this button over and over for people on the other side to realise that this wasn't kids just pranking them, or an accidental press of a button. Maybe they could somehow see where you were, have someone locate you and get you out... you didn't know how emergency buttons in lifts worked.

You just laid there and listened to Joe pressing a button, to a lady asking the same urgent question that didn't get an answer she could hear until you could no longer feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.

Slowly, the acceptance that this was going to probably last for at least a little while settled within you.

You told your bladder to keep it together.

Shit.

It all made fucking sense, didn't it? Your worst-night-ever bingo card hadn't had "stuck in a lift" crossed off yet, so of course, this had to happen. Almost felt like it was written in the stars a little. Meant to be. One bad fuck up right after the other. Life really knew how to kick you right in the shins when you'd just been knocked over the head.

“I'm going to sit up now,” you announced, because you felt like you couldn't just move without letting him know. Not after the whole can you do two things for me.

Before you could even attempt to slowly pick yourself up off the floor, a tweed-cladded knee pressed into the tulle that felt like it engulfed you entirely, and two hands helped pull you up into a sitting position.

“Here, against the side,” Joe said, hands softly guiding, but persisting you moved to sit with your back leant against a side panel of the lift.

God.

You'd forgotten what it was like for someone to fret over you like this. All worried and distraught. All caring and shit. Attentive, almost doting. T'was cute.

Like, you were fine, but it was kind of nice. Kind of fed your self-pity a little. Made it go, yea, see?! we are sad and we do need taking care of.

“Are you all right?”

A careful second passed where you tried to really feel within your body if you were. And... you were, so you gave a small nod.

Then, the water bottle got kindly pressed into your hands again.

“I won't force you, I know I drank from that, but I promise, you will probably feel better if you just had sip,”

The faintest of little smiles appeared on your face when you finally took the bottle from Joe's hands, and you'd have taken hold of it much sooner had you known the facial expression it would bring about from him.

You still weren't going to take a sip though. Didn't want to fill up your bladder more. It was already painful enough as it was.

Joe got up and went to press the emergency button again.

A silence passed. Just static.

Joe pressed the button over and over, waited for the same question to be asked, waited for the static to stop, and then, he'd just press it again.

This was ridiculous.

Your gaze went from looking up at Joe down towards your hands in your lap. Water bottle immersed in bridal fabric.

You had seen your boyfriend make out with your boss whilst she was pulling off his tie.

You had pissed in her handbag.

You were stuck in a tube station lift with a faulty intercom and a handsome stranger.

Ridiculous.

You huffed a laugh that surprised you a little.

Fuck, this was so fucking ridiculous.

The huff turned into soft giggles, which turned into a louder chuckle, and when you looked back up to make eye-contact with Joe, you squeezed your eyes shut as big belly laughs escaped you.

“This is so ridiculous!” you laughed, and when you looked again, you saw Joe was biting back his laughter until it loudly escaped from his throat through his teeth. “What is even happening right now?!”

You felt delirious, overtaken with giggles that you couldn't stop because you were far too tired to work against them.

You laughed and laughed, drowning out the lady asking if you needed assistance. You had to wipe under your eyes where you found tears in the corners and you didn't mind wiping these away. These were good ones.

Joe ended up throwing his head back, shoulders slack from his giggles, then bending forward, nearly tumbling over which only made you laugh more. He leant against the wall opposite you, laughed and slowly slid down until his bum reached the floor and his trousers had ridden up, bright yellow socks now revealed to you.

You laughed until it slowly fizzled out into smaller giggles. Then a last huff, maybe two. Then silence again.

The atmosphere had gone from strangely tense to stupidly playful. This was nicer. Made you relax into yourself a little more.

“I'm sorry you had to deal with... that,” you said through a stupid smile, vaguely motioning with a heavy arm to the spot in front of you where you'd passed out a little earlier.

“Nah, don't worry about it,” Joe scrunched up his whole face as he shook his head a little. “I hope you didn't have urgent plans,” Joe made a face, tucked in chin, eyebrows raised high, followed by small nod with his eyes trained on the tulle of your skirt. Like a wedding, he meant jokingly.

You snorted. Made Joe laugh again.

“Because, we might be stuck in here for a while.”

It made you frown and groan.

“This is just my luck.”

“You um... you seem like you've had quite the evening,” Joe treaded lightly, sounding like he was just making conversation but was very clearly pointing out the elephant in the lift. The big, poofy, white one.

“This isn't,” you shook your head and winced at yourself. “This isn't what it looks like, sorry,”

You saw confusion strike, and you bit your lips into your mouth as you squinted, contemplating if you should tell him. If you did, it had to be the full story. Just going, “oh I'm not a bride, this isn't my wedding day” would only lead to more confusion, because that's what it looked like, wasn't it?

But lying felt worse.

Joe was right. You might be stuck in there for a little while.

So, you thought it over for maybe three seconds, then stuck out a hand for Joe to shake and you introduced yourself. Said your name, and Joe repeated it back to you.

“Joe,” he then said, reintroducing himself.

“I'm not a bride,” you followed up.

“Cool, neither am I,” Joe said and smirked. Pulled another giggle from you.

Shit.

“This is fancy dress,” you motioned both hands up and down your frame.

“So is this,” Joe did the same, copying your movements.

“No it isn't,” you laughed. That suit looked far too expensive to be fancy dress.

“No, it's not,” Joe agreed and laughed along.

Fuck, it felt good to laugh.

Flirty bastard.

Joe looked up towards the emergency button above him and reached a hand, pressing it again, not even bothering with waiting for the intercom to spring to life. He just needed to press it to press it. To let people know you were still stuck. While the intercom static filled the lift car once again, he turned back to you and continued the conversation.

“Bridezilla?” he questioned.

You slowly inhaled a deep breath. “Well... ex-wife, or so it turns out,”

Oof.

Joking about it felt wrong and made you itch all over. Too soon. Far too soon. Big nope.

Jesus, that nearly made you want to cry again.

Joe saw, read it in your face, and straightened his own.

“If it's of any consolation,” he started, then squeezed is eyes firmly shut as he said, “You look fantastic.”

It burst another laugh from your chest that immediately made you sit up straighter. “Stop, stop,” you pleaded. “I'm going to pee myself,”

“No!” Joe lurched forward, added “Sorry, sorry!” with a joyfully painful face so full of empathy, you didn't really know what to do with all the care they held for you.

You winced through half laughs with tensed shoulders until they died down, then made awkward eye-contact and passed Joe's water bottle back to him.

“Oh, yea,” Joe took it, held it up a little to drive home the point that he understood why you hadn't taken a sip yet.

Your eyes shot back up towards the emergency button. Joe saw, reached a hand up, pressed it once more and said, “They must come soon,”

He just said that to make sure you stayed calm, you understood. But you wanted to be realistic. Needed to at least speak the question that played on your mind into existence.

“What if they don't?”

It made Joe look at you a second before he turned his head and inspected all four corners of the lift.

“If they don't, we'll just... we'll move closer to here,” Joe pointed towards the corner he was closest to. Closest to the intercom. “And we'll use that corner to pee,”

Another snort laugh.

Another wince.

Another, “Sorry,” from Joe who couldn't help the pursed little smile on his face at the fact that he'd made you laugh again.

“They better fucking hurry,” you said mostly to yourself, and Joe leant forward, reached, and somehow knew exactly where to grab to get your knee through the layers of your skirt. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and said, “We'll be out of here in no time. You watch.”

He said it mostly to make sure panic wouldn't get a hold of you again.

Wished he was right so you wouldn't actually need to resort to assigning a certain corner of the box you were trapped in to be the bathroom.

Wished he was wrong because, strangely, this didn't actually seem so bad.

Joe’d been in worse spots. Way worse spots.

He was stuck in a tube station lift with a broken intercom after midnight with a pretty girl who had made herself pass out and who really needed the toilet, but... she laughed at his jokes, giggled at the faces he made and it was now all he wanted to do for the rest of the night.

Make her tear-stained face spill over with joy for however long he was granted the time to do so.

Just your luck? Just Joe's luck.

Yea.

This wasn't so bad.

Joe’d been in far worse spots.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @freckledjoes @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @ohmeg @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @roosterisdaddy36 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl @emma77645 @tlclick73

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #between floors and feelings #part 2

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

Gladys Cooper (Now, Voyager, My Fair Lady)— Best known for tyrannical mothers or put upon wives, she was a gorgeous early star too. Bette Davis thought exceptionally highly of her 'On the day following Cooper's death, her Now, Voyager co-star Bette Davis appeared on The Dick Cavett Show and called Cooper "Without a doubt, the most beautiful person as well as actress, and a professional ... never was she late one minute, never didn't she know every line."'

Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Gladys Cooper:

Joan Crawford:

I just love women that are very mean.

she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.

The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows

of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles

Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?

(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.

#joan crawford #gladys cooper #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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blackdollette · 10 months ago

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LOVE. - clyde

✩♬.ᐟ now playing: love - lust for life

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: to be young and in love...

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @simply-stellarr

female!reader x clyde

word count: 771

contents: fluff, drug usage, shotgunning

whenever you were with clyde, time was only a concept. you were two young and fiery spirits who had an unexplainable passion for timeless music that neither of you were ever sober enough to understand. you called it vintage, and he called it retro. not that it really mattered, though. your frequencies were always synced either way.

you often wondered what life would be like if you had never met him, thinking back to that one fateful day when you were both 16. he was a scruffy boy who was in desperate need of a haircut, clad in a blue flannel, green cargo pants, and held a well-used skateboard under his arm. he had taken your virginity, ran away with you, and stopped your first high from being horrific. as strange as he was, you couldn’t help but think he was the coolest guy in the world.

he had his leg pressed against yours one night, a stupid little smile spreading on his face as he watched you take your first hit of a joint. “when the smoke’s in your mouth, make sure to inhale a little. don’t wanna waste any of the good stuff.” he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you for a minute as you cautiously inhaled the hot smoke, an equally burning heat resting on his cheeks. you blew out a dainty little ribbon of smoke, shyly looking at him as you searched for his approval. he patted you on the cheek and messed up your hair a little. “atta girl. you’re already a pro.”

he grins, watching you inhale and exhale the smoke. after watching you for a few seconds, he takes the blunt from you and takes a hit himself, then he hands it back to you. “here, give me your hand real quick.” he grabs your hand and pulls it towards his mouth. when it's near enough, he blows out the smoke that's in his mouth and blows it on your hand. your hand feels like it's covered in a thin layer of smoke. he laughs and pulls your hand away from his face “watch, the smoke is going to leave an imprint of my lip. It's a trick I learned when I was a little kid at a party one time, when I saw a drunk guy doing it to a girl's hand.” you couldn’t help but laugh at his little magic trick, feeling like you two were the only people in the world at that moment. the night ended with you two shotgunning until he turned blue in the blue.

late nights on the streets with his arm around your shoulders and his shaggy flannel tied around your waist made you feel like you were on top of the world, careless and ignorant, yet wrapped with a cloak of innocence. you weren’t afraid to take on whatever this cruel world threw at you, because he would always have just the drug to ease the pain. he had given you a chance to see life through the lens of his crystal blue eyes. he had never been the poetic type, but he liked to say that you were the high that he’d been chasing his whole life. what ever that meant.

you loved to get all dolled up and pretty for him whenever he made plans for the two of you, even if it was nowhere in particular. wearing your flowy white silk dresses or some baggy jeans and sneakers, from live concerts to getting kicked out of underground clubs, it didn’t matter because simply being in his chaotic presence was enough.

you were always engaged in any deep conversation he felt like bringing up at the time, even if he always did more of the talking. you sat on a park bench with him one day, kicking around stones as you braided his chestnut brown. a blush creeps back onto his face as he looks back at you. “it's not fair how every time you tell me how you feel, you make me fall in love with you all over again. i love the way you talk, with the way you speak and just how cute you sound when you’re higher than a kite. and i will never get over your cute little giggles. and you always make me warm inside when you smile. and you make me feel young again, like being with you makes me feel 13 again…’

he gave you the resting reassurance that you didn’t need to worry about the future or anything to come. he granted you more fun and pleasure than any drug ever could. and you knew that was all you needed, because you were young and in love.

author's note: day one of valentine's season!!

#Spotify #clyde rory culkin #clyde electrick children #rory culkin clyde #electrick children clyde #rory culkin smut #rory culkin #fluff #lana unreleased #lust for life #lfl #lana del ray #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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icebear4president · 3 months ago

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A small fic with dysfunctional family dynamics featuring Alfred and Arthur

"Alfred, will you please just unload the dishwasher?"

And while Alfred tried not to get too irritated with Arthur, he wasn't about to let the snide remark about his hard-earned space collection slide. Besides, he always cooked the meals, so Arthur can't complain about being put on dish duty.

"Alfred, you are acting like a child."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred stuffed his phone into pocket, and leaned on the counter arms crossed. Whatever, if Arthur wanted to annoy him, than he'll annoy him back. So why not make Arthur extremely uncomfortable with his request. Not that he desperately wanted to hear the words or anything.

"Sure! If you say you're immensely proud of me, that is."

Arthur's excessive scrubbing faltered for a second. "What?"

"If I unload the dishwasher, will you say that you are immensely proud of me?"

"No-why would I do that?"

Alfred grinned at how uncomfortable he was making the other man. Honestly, was it really that hard to answer the question? Apparently he didn't want help with the dishes as much as he said he did.

"Because I'm America. I always demand payment in some form, and this is what I want. I'll even unload the dishes first, but after you have to say your immensely proud of me."

Arthur hesitated, frowning at the soapy water. He just wanted help, was that too much to ask without being subjected to Alfred's nonsense. "Are you sure you don't want money or food? Maybe buy one of those gold kiddy coins you like?"

'Collectible and vintage coins,' Alfred wanted to say, but bit his tongue and smiled instead. "Nope," he said, popping the 'p', "I want you to say you're proud of me."

"Why in the world do you suddenly care if I'm proud of you or not, you never did before," Arthur asked. "Look, I would unload the dishwasher myself, but I'm going to hand wash them first. It's only fair."

What was with this guy and dodging answers. Good thing Alfred was just as stubborn as him, as well as persistent. "I demand payment, and this is the payment I want. Come on dude, they're just words. It's not like I'm asking for something unreasonable here."

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache from this whole exchange. "Alfred, if you're going to unload the dishwasher, than unload the dishwasher. If you don't want to, than don't. It's not that big of a deal."

Alfred leaned forward, desperate now. He was beginning to think this wasn't about dishes anymore, not that he'll think too hard on that. He just wants Arthur to say the words. Hell, even if he didn't even mean it or if he says it sarcastically he'll take it.

This was turning out not to be as fun as he thought it was.

"But I WILL unload the dishwasher. I'll wash the dishes too....you just need to say you're proud of me. Not even immensely or anything, just that you're proud of me."

Wiping his hands, Arthur finally turned to face Alfred. "But what have you done to warrant me to say that? Proud of you for what? Washing the dishes and putting them away? Like every person on this planet does," he asked, genuinely curious for the answer.

"No, just in general."

Arthur sighed, returning to his task. This back and forth was tiring him out. "I'm not going to say I'm proud of you for just being here."

Alfred clutched his chest, feigning hurt. "After all I've done to get to this point, and you still aren't proud? You wound me, what even is the point of life if my big brother can find no good in me," he said, swooning dramatically. Of course, none of his words meant anything, he didn't actually care what England or any of the others thought of him after all. Definitely not.

"This again. Why do you get existential and crap when you're upset?"

"I'm not upset. Why are you getting upset?" Alfred countered. "They're just words, they don't actually mean anything. I'll unload the dishwasher, plus do the dishes if you say them."

Arthur sighed again, and shook his head. "Evidently they mean something to you. And no, I'm not going to say them. Now, if you're not going to help, than go do something else productive," he said, turning his back to Alfred and signaling the conversation to a close.

Alfred stared after him a while, before angrily digging out his phone again. He didn't care, he shouldn't care. It was a joke and he admits he pushed it more than he should've. Maybe it hurt a little, or maybe a lot, but it was fine. He didn't need England's validation, he was a big boy and he would be fine. He would just go watch tv, or cry in his pillow, and forget all about it. "Fine, whatever," he finally said, with a dismissive wave.

After a few moments, Arthur turned to check that Alfred was gone before he spoke again. "I am proud of you. Immensely. I thought you would have known that already," he said, voice echoing in the room.

#hws america #hetalia #aph america #hws england #aph england #arthur kirkland #alfred f jones

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xiosandrafirelyte · 1 year ago

Video

♥Vintage Fair ♥ 2023 006 by Xiosandra Firelyte Via Flickr: Officially OPEN NOW through June 19th!! Event: VINTAGE FAIR Join SILLY LLAMA UPDATE GROUP SHOPPING GALLERY Presented By: BeSpoke Silly Llama Productions Credits: WATERCOLOR Jem Eyeshadow VAUGHN Xia's Alien BRAT GANG COMPANY Vintage Scratch N' Sniff Cheek and Chest stickers BLURR Face Stickers . 80s Set MIGNONNE Soft lips evoX ZOOM Love&Peace Outfit Where was the pic taken? BACK TO THE 80S CLUB BACK TO THE 80S FACEBOOK Sponsor List: DESIGNER SHOWCASE ENTICE MVD ND/MD & ENLIGHT SAINT SHE SAID DESTROY SHORT LEASH SIMPLY SHELBY BESPOKE CARAVAN GROUP Who else will be there? Take a look!! PARTICIPATING DESIGNERS Who will be showing off all of these fabulous designs? Meet us over here !! OFFICIAL BLOGGING TEAM LINK TREE XIO -----------------------------------------

#vintagefair2023 #Second Life #SecondLifeAvatar #Silly Llama Productions #Second Life Vintage Fair #Watercolor #Vaughn #BGC #Brat #Gang #Company #Blurr #Mignonne #Zoom #Back #80s #flickr

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lexotanmerlin · 5 months ago

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Lex # 5165

♥Hair: !!Firelight!! Dave & Deb B5B Gift Hair ♥Head:LeLUTKA Avalon Head by jaden.nova ♥Skin: Curious Kitties *C:K* Azil Peach Skin – 50s Megastar by ameshin.boo @ Vintage Fair ♥Body: eBODY – REBORN – by eBODY ♥Tattoo: Fewness – Your Sign – Cancer by Fewn Daddy ♥Tattoo: Puddles. Zodiac Tattoos by Veronica Cuddles ♥Veins: Izzie’s – Body Veins & Cellulite (combined) by Izzie Button ♥Necklace and…

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#Bliensen #Curious Kitties #Eventyra #Juniper Events #NoRush #Second Life Vintage Fair #Silly Llama Productions #Silly Llama Productions 2024 #SL Vintage Fair #Vintage Fair #Vintage Fair 2024

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aerroughneck · 1 year ago

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!The Little Bat, enLight, FAGA, Fameshed, Have Unequal, ND/MD, Something New, Truth, Uber Event, Vintage Fair Blog: https://aerwolf.blogspot.com/2023/06/perty-polka-dots.html Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/aerlinniel_vella/52978240993/in/dateposted/

#!The Little Bat #enLight #FAGA #Fameshed #Have Unequal #ND/MD #Something New #Truth #Uber Event #Vintage Fair #second life #secondlife #slblogging

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onetoomanyyy · 5 months ago

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why ocho is one of the most interesting coroika characters (analysis/speculation)

Ok, so I think we all know that coroika isn’t exactly known for its incredible character writing. But every now and then when digging for iron and coal, you find some diamond ore (epic minecraft reference). I do really think Ocho/Octophones is the most compelling character in coroika, story-wise. Vintage is definitely second, but there’s something about this guy. So allow me a few minutes of your time to think way too hard about all this. I've never done an essay-style post like this before so it may be a little disorganized/confusing, sorry in advance.

When we first meet Ocho, he’s your typical coroika antagonist. Rude, cocky, and entirely sure that he’s right. He presents the actually interesting concept that battles are boring and that there should be a bigger punishment for losing in order to weed out the weak people. He thinks that the best 8 of splatsville should be based on power, not popularity. (Which is fair!)

He stays pretty static up until his vs. chapters, aside from a small moment of expressing remorse after black-labelling 8-Bit (likely because he knows how much pride she has in her position).

Ocho wants power, simple as that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it, including hiring teammates instead of building an actual team. The reason he wants power so bad is because the real thing he wants is to be strong - or to believe that he’s strong. This is, of course, because according to the Hierarchy, the important people in Splatsville are the strong ones. So in order to be worth anything to the Hierarchy - to Splatsville - he needs to be strong.

So what happens when he gets defeated? What happens when the core foundation: being able to win battles, of all that pride in himself and his position gets toppled? Probably more than what actually did happen.

Wineglasses and how he may have severely fucked up Ocho's mindset

Wireglasses is the leader and the founder of the Hierarchy, and presumably the one who first presented their philosophy. (That the strong stay strong and the weak stay weak, and that thus the weak are worthless.) Of course, keep in mind that "strong" and "weak" are largely subjective terms here.

^ Goggles hits the nail on the head here. This idea likely comes from a place of insecurity, the idea that Wireglasses may lose his position as the strongest player in Splatsville. Duh, he doesn’t want that, so he spreads the idea that people shouldn’t even try. But Wireglasses is willing to hear Team Blue out, if even just to prove them wrong. After he’s defeated, he does as he promised. He dissolves the Hierarchy, because Team Blue proved their worth to him. They seemed like a weak team, but they did manage to take them all down. So, Team Blue must be strong. (I believe that Ocho takes the loss not as Team Blue are strong, but that the Hierarchy are weak.)

So all things considered, Wireglasses is actually quite reasonable. He’s got a big ego, but he’s able to recognize when he’s wrong, if he’s been proven so.

Ocho joined the Hierarchy after being defeated by Wireglasses, who despite the win, admired his skill and asked him to join (where he later gained the position of the second strongest member.) Essentially, Wireglasses gave him the opportunity to have a sense of actual worth in Splatsville, not just superficial popularity, and he clung onto that idea for dear life and went on preaching about the Hierarchy. He even echoes Wireglasses’ rule of “The weak will be silenced.” As their leader, it isn't too farfetched to at least partially blame Wire for why Ocho and the others act the way they do. This isn't meant to be a Wireglasses analysis, though, so whether or not this was intentional or malicious manipulation is up to you.

The defeat

So when Ocho gets defeated, it kinda screws him over. He’s so sure of this idea Wireglasses presented to him, that taking down the weak to stay on top by any means necessary is the true meaning of strength, that he doesn’t even turn around immediately and become a friend to Team Blue like many other coroika antagonists do. He instead relies on the last remaining sign that this philosophy isnt flawed (and just as senseless as a system based on popularity), Wireglasses. This is shown with his immediate shift in focus to how Wireglasses will keep the black label going, even if he’s defeated. Okay, maybe he got taken down, but surely Wireglasses, the strongest guy he knows won’t, right?

But Wireglasses doesn’t just lose, he loses and ends up agreeing with Team Blue, then dissolving the hierarchy. And we don’t see much of Ocho after this happens, but he keeps the same straight face he had all throughout Wireglasses’ battle and up until the Salmon Run chapter (likely some time later) didn't say a word since his defeat. This combined with how much reliance he had on his position, shown by his insistence of how strength worked to the point of losing his usual cool during his battle, gives me a good idea that he wasn’t exactly stoked about this. Plus, he’s still a jerk during the salmon run chapter, which is a rare occurrence for coroika antagonists. But he seems to be getting a little better, so maybe he’s learning his lesson after Wireglasses sided with Team Blue.

Conclusion

Ocho is a guy who wants a sense of importance past just popularity, which is a respectable motivation. But after Wireglasses gives him a sample of that, the proposal of the Hierarchy, he gets way too caught up in it to the point where he needs more than three panels to turn around. And that, my friends, is why I believe Ocho is the most interesting coroika character. (with a whole lotta angst potential...looking at you, fanfic writers!)

Thank you and good night :>

#coroika #splatoon manga #coroika bankara #toomanyrambles #ocho coroika #I love overanalyzing the silly squid manga!

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