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steveshairychest · 2 years ago

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tw: mentions of death

Eddie will forever be grateful that he got a second chance but now he's starting to feel the consequences of his immortality.

Steve's old enough to be his dad now. His hair is almost completely grey at 45; he says the stress of babysitting 6 kids really sped up the process. Eddie still thinks he's the most beautiful person alive, he's aging like fine wine right before his eyes and he's so glad that he gets to spend every second of his immortal life with Steve.

He just wished they'd grow old together.

Dustin's kids think it's weird that their dad is friends with someone who's only just 'freshly 21' but Eddie thinks it's weird that they've never questioned why the man they've known since they were infants hasn't aged a day. He's starting to realise that children are very oblivious, especially if you bring gifts everytime you visit.

He still DMs for the party except now their children join in too. They like to remind Eddie that his rules are very outdated. He gets a disappointed frown from one of his friends when he kills their kid's character just because they annoyed him.

He thought explaining his eternal youth to his friend's kids was going to be the hardest part but he was wrong.

The hardest part was watching all his friends die.

It never got easier. He held their hands, whispered words of comfort as he listened to their hearts slowly stop. He cursed his abilities in these moments; wished he couldn't smell the illness in their blood and hear their hearts get weaker and weaker as they grew older.

Steve went sooner than he expected.

It came on so suddenly, he had no time to prepare himself, no time to figure out a way to go with him.

"See the world for me." Steve whispers to him. He's smiling, he's fucking dying and he has the audacity to smile at Eddie.

"I don't want to live in a world without you." Eddie's voice cracks and he scoots his chair closer so that he can gently rest his head on Steve's stomach. Steve weakly plays with his hair, that stupid smile still on his face.

"Always so dramatic." Steve traces Eddie's face, runs his fingers over his eyes, his nose, his lips, the scar on the side of his face from the bats; something that feels like a lifetime ago. "I love you, Eds, I won't be mad if you find someone else. Just make sure you visit and tell me about them." Eddie's sobbing now, his body shaking as he cries and grips Steve's hand tighter. He can hear it. He can fucking hear his heart slow. It's a sound he'll never be able to forget.

"My heart belongs to you... in this life.. and the next." And then he's gone.

Eddie's ears ring and he knows he's causing a scene, knows that screaming Steve's name won't magically drag him back from whatever place he's gone to, but he can't stop. He has to be forcefully dragged out of the room which is a struggle because Eddie is stronger than the average human.

He hates the silence, hates that he'll never hear the calming, steady beat of his lovers heart. He doesn't sleep for weeks, it feels wrong to sleep in their bed without Steve. He doesn't eat, can't even bring himself to open the fridge and drink the last bit of blood Steve had put aside for him.

It gets to a point where Dustin's oldest kid, Julie, comes to visit and finds him curled up on the floor, hunger so bad he's unable to move, to speak.

"Steve wouldn't want this." She chides and force feeds him the blood from the fridge. He doesn't know when Dustin told her about him, doesn't really care at that point. All he can do is sob weakly as Steve's blood fills his mouth and brings him back from the edge. "Come on. We're going to visit dad."

Dustin's in a retirement home now.

He'd gone downhill after his wife died and the kids had their own lives, they didn't have time to look after him 24/7. Eddie would have taken him in if he'd known, but he's been in a state of limbo for 2 months now. He'd collapsed on the kitchen floor a week ago and would have stayed there if Julie hadn't shown up, his body can withstand neglect a lot better than he thought.

He's missed Robin's 70th birthday.

He's missed the birth of Mike and El's 4th grand kid.

He's missed the release of Will's final book in his series.

He's missed so much life while mourning Steve. He didn't realise so much could happen in just 2 months.

"Hey, dad, I've brought a visitor." Julie says softly, making sure not to startle Dustin. He's sitting on the small lounge next to the window, an old fantasy book in his hands, and seeing him sit there brings back memories of when they were younger. When Dustin used to come by Steve's house just to be near Eddie, to remind himself that Eddie was okay. They'd sit in the bay window in Steve's lounge room and read together for hours. Steve would walk by and flick the lamp on for them because they wouldn't even notice that the sun had set.

He can still see that little kid in the old man in front of him, he's hidden under the wrinkles and grey hair, but when his eyes light up and his smile takes over his face, Eddie sees the kid that he risked his life for. "Eddie!"

Julie leaves them to talk, says that she'll grab them all a cup of coffee. Eddie declines. He hasn't been able to drink coffee since Steve died. It reminds him too much of waking up to quiet humming from the kitchen and coffee flavoured kisses.

Dustin scolds Eddie for neglecting himself, for not calling him or coming to see him so that they could mourn together. It feels strange to be scolded by someone that you used to babysit.

"He told me to move on." Eddie says quietly, bitterly. "But I don't think I'll ever be able to forget him."

"You don't have to forget him." Dustin scoots closer to Eddie on the cramped lounge and makes him look him in the eyes. "You're going to be around for a long time, Eds. You can't be that stereotypical vampire that mourns his long lost love for centuries."

"Maybe I want to."

"Steve would strangle me when I see him next if I let you do that."

When I see him next.

That makes Eddie ache. Will he ever get to see Steve again? Can he even die? He doesn't want Dustin to leave him too but he knows Steve is probably lonely wherever he is. He never liked being on his own for very long.

Eddie leans against his friend's shoulder and sighs shakily. He doesn't want to cry again. He's tired of crying. "I feel hollow, Dustin. I think Steve took a part of me with him."

"He was always quite greedy when it came to you."

Eddie smiles for the first time in 2 months. "He was, wasn't he. He always stole your time with me." He playfully jabbed Dustin in the side and it felt good to laugh with him, to smile and see the familiar twinkle of joy in his friend's eyes.

When they stop laughing and the room fills with a comfortable silence, Eddie asks quietly, "Do you really think you'll see him again?"

Dustin hums and leans back into the lounge, a knowing smile on his lips. "You'll see him again, Eddie. I know it."

Eddie scoffs with a smile. "Why? Because you're old and wise?"

"Precisely."

Eddie knows Dustin is just saying what he wants to hear, what he thinks he needs to move on with his life, but a small part of himself hopes it's true.

He hopes that after he's seen the world, he'll be able to tell Steve all about it.

#SORRY THIS IS LIKE REALLY LONG #I GOT CARRIED AWAY LMAO #steddie #kas eddie munson #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #dustin henderson #tw mentions of death

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starbounddragon · 3 months ago

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I am 6 years old and my family tries to call me Lexi.

They tell me it's a nickname

It is uncomfortable in a way I don't have words for

Like the Easter dress my mother always made me wear

There is an ache in my whole body I cannot explain

I ask them not to call me that

It's years before they listen

I am 8 and my best friend is a boy

I play sports and read books and detest Barbies

I am branded "tomboy"

It fits like wearing my dad's oversized baseball mitt

Roomy, not uncomfortable, but not right

I am told I should be more ladylike

I am 10 sitting with the other girls from my class

They ask why I never wear the uniform skirt

I tell them I just prefer to wear the pants.

I do not explain how I begged my mother not to buy any skirts.

I do not explain the panic I felt when I tried it in on at the uniform store.

I just prefer pants.

I am 12 and my best friend switches schools

The same girls ask if I miss him

They ask if we're dating.

My face grows hot and I forget how to speak

Before I can deny it another girl scoffs

She says my shoulders are too broad

She says I am not a pretty girl

She means it as an insult

Why am I relieved when she says I'm not a girl

13 and I have a new best friend

A girl this time

It feels different in a way I don't have words for

She doesn't go to my school

For the first time I beg my parents for a cell phone

I text her every day

The school year starts and I have my first health class

I go to a Catholic school

The two "teachers", a youth pastor and the ccd coordinator, tell my class to hate the sin, love the sinner

One of them says she loves her brother but he's going to hell for his "gay lifestyle".

To their merit, my classmates are outraged.

Their uncle, oldest brother, cousin, is gay.

They protest on behalf of their loved ones.

The teacher does not change her stance.

I am ashamed.

I am afraid.

I am silent.

I am 14 and I hold a door open for a stranger and his kid

The man tell his son to "say thank you sir"

I feel like a fish on dry land

I feel my broad shoulders

I feel like wearing a uniform skirt

I feel tomboy

I feel Lexi

He's gone before I correct him

How do I run from this

15 and I only wear blouses and push up bras

I only wear my hair down

I can't bring myself to wear a skirt

My highschool is Christian not Catholic

Chapel every Wednesday reminds us girls to honor our husbands

Health on Fridays says babies are God's plan

There is no path more fulfilling than joyful motherhood

I tell my teacher I do not want to be a mother

She assures me she didn't either at 15

Her husband changed her mind at 20

The rage I feel is familiar

So is the grief

This is the year I learn the term asexual

This is the year I learn I am not aromantic

This is the year I become two people

My family and school friends are all conservative

We do group activities

We talk about their lives

I keep them at arms length

They don't ask

They don't notice

They don't want to know

My summer camp friends are all queer

I tell them everything

My girl best friend is one of them

She's pansexual

I realize I'm in love with her

I also realize I can't have a girlfriend

Not like this

Not as two people

I'm not ready

We're 16 and she tells me she's gender fluid

She tells me her pronouns are she/they

I didn't realize a person could be that

I wish I could be they too.

They call me Lex.

It doesn't hurt.

At 20 I learn the term agender and it feels like finding something I didn't know I was looking for.

I'm still two people but not as much anymore.

25 is the first time I say it out loud to other people

Friends from college who are also they/them

And for the first time since 15 I feel like a whole person.

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smolandweirdwriter · 9 months ago

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Serafina and The Black Cloak Reread Thoughts: Chapter Three

Babe wake up new slang just dropped: “gnawin’ on leather”

Her pa doesn’t like mr poe gives “my dad won’t let us watch horror movies so you have to sneak them over in a different dvd cover if we’re gonna watch a horror movie when you sleep over later tonight” omg rowena & serafina girltime au?? (Lol sorry)

Oooooh the dynamo’s busted I wonder what thaaat meeeaannnssss (hehehe)

Biltmore being one of the few homes to have electricity is a nice reminder of the time period

“she’d been trying to follow [her pa’s] rules at least some of the time” lol

“Spotting an upholstered chair she felt an overwhelming desire to run her fingernails over the plush fabric” REAL

Her being shocked at flower vases & the idea of flowers INSIDE the house is so funny

Awwww poor sera, looking for her momma and siblings everywhere…

Serafina is super smart. just putting that out there. She’s brilliant and I love her

Oop the first description of Edith Vanderbilt kinda gives chatgpt-generated ngl (obviously it wasn’t bc it predates chatgpt & shitty ai writing generators, & this book is SO MUCH BETTER than anything an AI could generate regardless)

“A refined and attractive woman, Mrs. Vanderbilt had a pale complexion and a full head of dark hair, and she seemed at ease in her role of hostess as she moved through the room.” Idk what about this makes me think “AI generated” but it just DOES

“Serafina loved to climb the tapestries at night and run her fingernails down through the soft fabric” AGAIN SHES SO REAL FOR THIS

OHOHOHO MR THORNE NAMEDROP:

“I’m sure that most of you already know Mr. Montgomery Thorne,”… Mrs. Vanderbilt said with a gentle sweep of her arm toward a gentleman. “He has graciously offered to play [the violin] for us today.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” Mr. Thorne said with a smile as he stepped forward. ... To Serafina, who’d been listening to Biltmore’s visitors her entire life, he didn’t sound like he came from the mountains of North Carolina, or from New York like the Vanderbilts. He spoke with the accent of a southern gentleman, maybe from Georgia or South Carolina.”

Serafina having an eye for fashion was NOT what I was expecting from this reread lol (she describes mr t’s outfit then says “all of which she thought went nicely with his silvery-black hair and perfectly trimmed sideburns”)

Hmmm interesting she actually sympathizes with/likes mr Thorne at first?? I did nOT recall that

Lol serafina liking to watch mr Thorne’s fingers move as he plays and wanting to pounce on them is so Cat of her

OMG BRAEDEN BRAEDEN BRAEDEN BRAEDEN

Apparently he looks “sickly, a little frail even” which I do not recall, but hes also got “watchful, sensitive brown eyes” and “a rather fetching tussle of wavy brown hair”

“Are you lost?” WE GOT IT WE GOT THE LINE but more importantly we got the NEXT LINE which is “May I help you find your way?” And hes described as not timid or shy but also not overly confident which I LOVE (fun fact this line is very similar to one of the characters of my other favorite kid’s book series, Keefe Sencen’s “you must be lost” line)

Lol Braeden always sharing his food with Gideon annoys the chefs i LOVE him

OMG HE BOWS TO HER WHEN SHE GIVES HIM HIS NAME LIKE SHE’S A PROPER LADY!!!!! MEN!!!! TAKE NOTES!!!!!! THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE!!!

Name drop at last, missing girl’s name is Clara Brahms. Honestly I’m a little sad Clara isnt a recurring character later on. Braeden, Serafina, and Clara could’ve been a good trio

OOOOHH “She had heard the servants in the kitchen joke that their master must have secretly found the Fountain of Youth” what a NICE SET UP for how the black cloak keeps people young & serafina’s suspicion of mr Vanderbilt

Mr Vanderbilt: *wears dress shoes to go riding*

serafina: criminal activity right there. Lock him up

This was my favorite chapter so far, probably because it introduces us to so many different characters and moving parts. I like Mr. Vanderbilt a lot more than I remember (as a historical figure now that I know more about him & also as a character) and Braeden is, of course, perfect in every way.

#serafina x braeden #serafina and the black cloak #serafina and the black cloak reread #serafina series #serafina and the splintered heart #serafina and the twisted staff #serafina and the seven stars

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elizabethplaid · 7 months ago

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daily notes - may 1, 2024

New microwave sounds less powerful than the previous. It doesn't cook as thoroughly, either. Dad cited some wattage number, intending to mean it's at least on-par with our last one. Uh, don't think so. I already added time to my thing, and it was still cold in the middle.

It's not like anything will be done about this. If anything gets changed, it might be some sticker applied to the display; it's too damn bright. And even that probably won't happen.

A webcomic I've been reading got me thinking sad stuff. The characters were at a columbarium, a place to store and display urns with cremains. (They're common in Korean media, instead of graveyards.) One said to the other, regarding why people visit the dead, "They are saying the things that they couldn't say to them while they were still alive."

I got to thinking, "Why do we not say these things while the person is alive, in our presence?" In my mom's case, she wouldn't listen. For many people, it's to avoid fights - keep the peace, however momentary. When they're "gone", they can no longer attack us, hurt us, with new pain. And, partly due to the comic, I thought of my old bully.

So many of the scenarios I imagined were just me speaking my peace. (Or is it "piece"? I can never remember, those darn homophones.) [edit: It's "piece", according to this page, versus "to hold your peace".] When I felt "ready" to hear his side of things, I became conscious of a gap in my heart. It's the realization that I would never get that closure without re-exposing myself to risk, eg speaking with him again.

To contrast, my imagined scenarios with my mom give enough suspension of disbelief to think that she could change. I imagine her actually listening and understanding, because she is free of the psychological burdens that held her back in life.

I can't remember exactly where I was going with this. But when I thought of it earlier, I felt tears beneath the surface, as I thought about talking to my bully. I became my current-self partly because I've been in pain -a variety of pain- for many years. I was in pain before we fought, but he certainly didn't help the situation.

And that's what I keep reminding myself: a lot of my mental state is because I'm in emotional pain and cannot cope with it like a neurotypical person. The depression was the easiest to recognize, then the anxiety, after I developed physical versions of the anxiety attacks. ADHD got tested because it was trendy at the time, but it also happened to apply.

Years later, autism-spectrum was suggested, and it made everything else sorta fall into place. And even before depression showed up for other reasons, I went through traumatic events in my youth. So there's always been -something- going on, especially when I wasn't aware of it.

It takes a lot of effort and pep talk to forgive myself for feeling/being "broken". I negotiate things with myself, trying to strategize what I can accomplish versus what is too much stress.

A recent example is that drawstring pouch I wanted to make for a friend's birthday. I don't to stress myself out with a deadline, knowing I haven't started stitching yet. (Prepped fabric a bit, but not on the frame yet.) So I will send something I've already made and a small store-bought trinket or card. I think they'll still be accepted, as it's the thought that counts. =========

Idk where I'm going with this. I just feel a little heavy, emotionally, tonight. That line of thinking brought me down, and I don't have the words to express everything. I also lack the attention-span to pin it down, to -want- to pin it down.

#daily notes

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 5 months ago

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072 of 2024

Soundtrack of Your Life

by kelifornication

In which decades (or specific years) were you 10 to 25 years old? 2000-2015.

Where did you live in your childhood, teens, and 20s? Childhood and teens, I lived in Middelkerke, Belgium. In my 20s, mostly living and working in Poland.

Do you have any cultural or language affiliations? Any specific regions? I'm quarter Dutch, so I tend to mix Dutch and Flemish dialects lol. I'm also quarter German. Mostly I use coast dialect from West Flanders, though, because I was born and raised there. In Wallonia, the southern part of my country, they speak French. I have some French ancestry, too.

Did your family have any special songs for family gatherings, holidays, or celebrations? No. But oh my, when they get drunk, they will just sing anything and everything, in English, Dutch and French. Sometimes also in German.

Are there songs your parents played or sang to you as a child? Which songs remind you of being a child? My dad was singing to me about two little kittens, and some more, but I don't remember them.

What songs did you sing to your kids when they were young? I don't have kids. I met my stepson for the first time when he was 12, a bit too old for lullabies :P

What type (genres) of music did you listen to when you were young? My mum was mostly listening to Shakin' Stevens and Modern Talking when I was a little child, so I have some kind of sentiment to them (and Modern Talking I like until this day). My dad liked The Beatles and Suzi Quatro. When I was a teenager, I liked metal, but it was going in phases: black metal, death metal, industrial metal, doom metal, djent/prog metal, sludge etc. Then I was introduced to industrial music.

Any memorable TV shows from your youth? The Smurfs. Did you know the Smurfs actually come from Belgium? :D

Any particular music you used to listen to on the radio? There were some French songs I liked.

Any memorable movies from your youth? I was never big into movies, so no answer here.

Any religious songs you were particularly fond of? Some Christmas carols and that's all.

Did you have any favourite love songs? Nah. I don't really like romantic music. But I would say Spiegel by Tourist LeMC - it's a very poetic song, I think he wrote it about his wife. Then there's another one of him, Koning Liefde - also about his wife.

Did you enjoy going to concerts or musicals? Which ones? Nah. I never liked musicals, and concerts cause sensory overloads in me.

Who were your favourite singers, performers, groups, bands, composers, and/or orchestras? Some I still love until today - Paradise Lost, Katatonia, At The Gates, Cult of Luna, Periphery, Vildhjarta, Suicide Commando, Combichrist, Hocico.

Did you have any records, tapes, or CDs that were your favourites? Any favourite songs from your collection? I had Fever by Kylie Minogue and the self-titled album of Natalia Oreiro and I loved them both. These two are the singers I liked as a kid and I like them until today.

Did you play any instruments? What songs did you play? No. I never had good coordination, but when my hand got paralysed after a stroke, it has gone completely.

Can you hum any of your favourite songs? Yeah, pretty much all of them. I have a great memory for music, it's like I have a built-in music player. I will remember the key, the lyrics, the instruments, everything. So no problem with humming a song, I pretty much always do it.

What songs did you dance to or play at your wedding? At your prom? Other special occasions? Well, I am married, but we didn't have a wedding party, let alone danced :P

Any meaningful patriotic songs? O dierbaar België :P our national anthem, La Brabançonne. It has three official version, each in different language.

Are there any songs you associate with a particular person, place, memory, event, or time in your life? Yeah, a lot. Here's a little list:

Volumes, Vahle (myself)

Blind Channel, Blind Side (that train guy)

Tesseract, Juno (my ex)

Walk the Moon, Shut Up And Dance (that driver guy)

The Rasmus, Rakkauslaulu (my sister)

Evanescence, Unraveling (Interlude) (multiple people, mostly two guys)

XXXTENTACION, Changes (several people)

Submersed, You Run (that train guy)

Panic Lift, Hourglass (my ex)

Evanescence, My Immortal (several people)

Tom Odell, Another Love (that driver guy)

James Hype, Ferrari (that driver guy)

Katatonia, My Twin (one girl)

Sleep Dealer, Nozomi (that train guy)

Norther, If You Go (several people)

Revolverheld, Mit Dir Chilln (several people)

Evanescence, Wasted on You (that driver guy)

Pride and Fall, Comforter (my ex)

Kim Petras, Heart to Break (two guys)

Katatonia, In the White (several people)

Otu, Frozen (that train guy)

Twarres, Wêr Bisto (that train guy)

Kno & Sadistik, Where You Want Me (that train guy)

#survey #q&a survey #themed survey

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cookinguptales · 6 months ago

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1-2-3-7!

https://www.tumblr.com/cookinguptales/752727268420452352/music-asks-these-are-actually-pretty-fucking-hard?source=share

oh I forgot I did this ummm

sorry all these answers got long rip

1: A song you like with a color in the title

YO LISTEN UP, HERE'S A STORY--

okay look I won't do that to you even though that song slaps every bit as hard now as it did when I was nine.

ummmm serious answer, probably Under A Blanket of Blue by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. A few years ago, I wrote an incredibly long WWDITS fic where Nandor went on his journey and Guillermo eventually found him... I didn't finish it; s4 came out and kind of put a damper on all that, but it still has a very special place in my heart, and that was the song that I used for the title.

I had Nandor's first stop be in America and I thought... well, if I had to say one thing in America is really worth seeing, it's probably our national parks, and the Grand Canyon is kind of emblematic of that... So in the first chapter, I made Nandor take this cross-country Amtrak train so he could ~see America~ and he was still really crabby and depressed about Guillermo abandoning him and this little old lady took him under her wing and taught him how to get his frustration out via cross-stitch. I actually made a whole cross-stitch pattern for that fic, haha. But they talked to each other a lot on the trip (she couldn't sleep, so she was always up pretty late) and he learned about her life and the people she'd loved and lost and it ~really made him think~. Then he finally got to the Grand Canyon and flew out to one of the areas where people aren't allowed, right in the middle, and camped out on one of the little plateaus and looked up at the stars and felt monumentally small in a huge world. And I was thinking about that song as I wrote. It ended up becoming a thematic song for the whole fic.

Also last year I listened to it while watching a meteor shower and it was really nice. :)

2: A song you like with a number in the title

Seventeen (Heathers the Musical)

Seventeen (Reprise) (Heathers the Musical)

Ohhh I really like this musical, and Seventeen is a banger. While the original song is beautiful and fun to sing, my favorite line is actually from the reprise, "We can be seventeen, we can learn how to chill, if no one loves me now, someday somebody will."

Because... so much of the show's message really is about the cruelty of youth and pushing through all that to be kind anyway. To find meaningful relationships anyway. And not to allow yourself to become too cruel and too cynical to find those meaningful relationships. You're not unlovable, you're just a mentally ill teenager. And even if it feels like things are untenable now, life goes on and we can make that life kinder for everyone until you do find that place you belong and the people you belong with. :')

3: A song that reminds you of summertime

Hmm. This is more an artist than anything. There's a Japanese singer that I've enjoyed since I was a teenager named Suga Shikao. I think some of his work used in anime is best known, but all of his music is really kinda chill and funky and I really enjoy it. Sooo many of his songs feel like summer. Kind of hot and sticky and slow and laid-back.

Boiling it down is difficult, but I think I'll go with 午後のパレード (Gogo no Parade -- Afternoon Parade), ８月のセレナーデ (Hachigatsu no Serenade -- August Serenade), and uh. June. That last one is about the month but also a person named June, lmao.

(I'm including the kanji because that's how these songs are listed on Spotify if you want to find them.)

7: A song to drive to

uhhhh well I cannot safely drive due to my tendency to pass out at random intervals, but I am a slut for a road trip and I usually end up controlling the music while we drive. My dad and I go on a lot of really lengthy road trips and I play a lot of music while he drives. Some of it's music he likes, some of it's music I like. This is the one I play when I want to make him laugh.

Movin Right Along (The Muppet Movie)

#replies #memes

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echantedtoon · 1 year ago

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Rules Of One's Soul Ch5 Realizing Feelings

(A disclaimer real quick in the story. Mak is not my oc and belongs to Mak)

A drip. A drop. A sprinkle. The water gently pouring down from the dark sky had started a little more than an hour ago, thunder and lightning waking him up every while due to his anxiety acting up to loud booming noises reminding him of THAT voice, but the emotional strain of the past few days had been too exhausting to put up with anymore and ended up with him falling into a deep sleep. Though the sleep was anything but pleasant. The hours of night revolved around visions of devilish smiles, heart attacks, and the deep laughing of a certain king of the past. But a ray of hope managed to shine through starting with a familiar little giggle and cooing. He could still remember that day like it was yesterday-

He was just putting up puzzles as usual. It had been a very surprising day when the King had picked him of all people to replace the former royal advisor and Duke after the king mentioned their 'accident', and he was more than flattered. His law keeping and skills for overseeing troups had finally caught the eye of the king it seemed.....Or so he thought. The king did not appreciate his skills in writing up legal paperwork, in laws, or even the actual puzzles he found out, as long as it got done when he wanted and if it was to his satisfaction. In the king's words, "I don't CARE how you get it done, do what it takes and it better be done correctly the first time, Duke. You know the consequences if you don't."

Luckily the King seemed more interested in the troups than the actual puzzles themselves. Thank goodness. But there was one thing that came with the job once the Queen had left. Royal advisor? Nope! Think of himself as a Royal Nanny....only he was forced into the role instead of hired. Oh! The King's son was always a troublesome little larva from the day he was born. But it became harder when one had to learn quickly how to care for a screaming baby or the King would storm over and demand he'd 'Shut the dam thing up before it woke the entire castle'. Taking care of a child was probably the hardest thing he's ever had to do in his few hundred years of youth. He thought it would get easier as he got older, but that proved to be untrue. He actually preferred it when Lancer couldn't run away from him and cause trouble, he would've preferred it if Lancer just stuck to him like glue begging for attention, but no. The child idolized his father and went out of his way everyday to try and please him....Which didn't always end up good. For either of them.

But this dream was about one memory in particular-

A little Lancer had ran up to him one day out of the blue squealing and babbling about something fun he did and he didn't really listen and mumbled something along the lines of 'That's nice. Thou should settle down now before thine father hears thou's screams."

"Oh. Ok, Wesser Dad."

The worm froze from what he was doing and finally looked down to toddler Lancer who smiled up at him innocently. "W-Wha...What didst thou calleth me?"

"Wesser Dad." He happily chirped before turning his head.

"Why?"

And his answer stuck into him more than any of the king's threats since that day-

"You my daddy, but smallwer than Daddy" He held his hands close together as to measure the size difference between Rouxls and King Spade. "Wesser than Daddy. Wesser Dad!"

The Duke just stared at the toddler wagging his tail, obviously proud at the name he came up with. Did-...Did he not know Rouxls wasn't actually his-...He wasn't Lancer's sire, much less blood related. But that didn't seem to matter to the three year old hugging his leg and looking up at him with more love than he deserved.

"I wuve you Wesser Dad!"

He couldn't stop himself from crying the glowing white tears from his eyes or his body from shaking with mixed emotions, and hold the precious little spade pup closer, he was fuzzy and warm and oddly giggly to the hug he was receiving.

"Do you think he's ok? Look he's crying in his sleep, sleep."

Wait a minute. That wasn't Lancer's voice. It sounded far too old and high pitched.

''Hmm. Perhaps he's having a nightmare. By the way he's clinging to you, it would seem so."

WHAT?!

He slowly stirred, and his eye opened from the darkness that was known as a deep sleep.The first thing he saw past the shadows was two black orbs surrounded by purple. With dead yellow eyes. Followed by a wide fanged smile. he just stared back.

"Well hello, hello.~"

What followed was the highest scream he probably made, sounding something like :'EEEEEEEEEE-". The figure invading his privacy fell backwards off the bed and crashed to the floor with a thud, when Rouxls pulled the blankets up his body to cover most of his body, both causing dust to spew into the air that turned the scream into a flurry of coughs for everyone present. The Poor Duke waved a hand to fan the dust away from his face and stared in shocked fear at the other two coughing figures. One was fuzzy and tall and the other was-....

"Jevil! You- *cough cough* What thy f*ck art thou doing within my shoppe?!" He yelled at the Imp that look up at him from the dusty floor.

Jevil gave off a series of high pitched giggles before pushing himself up and once again into the air. How the HELL could he even hover for so long?! The imp gave a devilish grin and held his hands out.

''But what fun, fun would it be if a surprise wasn't a surpise?~"

"I doth know! How about not scaring me within my home!?" His eyes went to the cat behind him who was giving the two a confused look. "And what art thou doing here?! I though I told thee not to cometh back?" He pointed accusedly at the cat.

Seam merely gave a chuckle and gave off the same calm face like the night before. "Actually, you said not to come in unsupervised. And as you can see I'm being watched by two people, so I'm nor really breaking your rule there. Now am I?"

Rouxls opened his mouth to argue...But closed it again. He scoffed and threw the blanket off himself before throwing his legs off as well. The Duke stood up and stretched his aching and honestly still tired body out, making a few bones pop within it. Behind him Jevil casually went to laying on his stomach and put his face in his hands as he watched the Duke. When Rouxls turned around he was met with a face of smiles and a simple finger wave from the smiling jester, he rolled his eyes again.

"What is it now?"

"Oh, nothing,nothing. Just waiting."

"For what?"

"Don't you remember, remember? We have a game to finish.~"

Rouxls turned back to the side and began towards a door on the far side of dusty room. "And I thought I said I wanted to take thou's 'game' slower," he spat without looking behind him angrily. His hand reached out and grabbed one the door before throwing it open and leaning have his body into the space behind. "Showing up in the morning uninvited and not wanted is nay taking it slowly!" He paused, before turning back around and giving him a look. "How did thou even get it here?"

Jevil waved a clawed hand like it was nothing. "The lock doesn't lock. The door was open the moment, moment we turned the little knob."

Rouxls hummed in a tone like he didn't fully believed him, before slowly going back into what was apparently a closet. The worm monster spent a couple more seconds in there probably moving around cloths? Seam couldn't tell as he was standing at an angle watching, but he could clearly see Jevil reaching into the fabric of his cape and pulling out a small box from the folds. To say he was surprised that Jevil was acting like this let alone even dared to leave his prison cell was an understatement, but he guessed finding one's soulmate would get one to do things they often didn't do In the name of love. Rouxls leaned back out with a regal looking uniform, that wasn't covered it dust surprisingly, and turned back to the duo with a still tired face though not as tired as last night. He seemed to have noticed the way Jevil was looking at him and the small box he held in his hands.

"What is that?"

The imp perked up at being addressed and held the box out for him. "A gift, gift for you!"

Rouxls rose a brow and looked down back at the box like someone was trying to give him something he already owned. Seam watched their reactions carefully with a neutral face. Jevil had little to literally zero experience in dating experience and after he told Seam what exactly happened upon his first attempt at- uh....showing Rouxls his true emotions towards him. Which may have been the reason the Duke was acting more irritated than giving off a similar reaction to Jevil, or it could just be because he was still tired and they sorta intruded and scared him out of his sleep. So, Seam sort of gave Jevil some advice of his own, granted he didn't really have romantic experience either, but he knew enough to know NOT to spontaneously kiss your soulmate out of no where and take things slow like Rouxls had mentioned earlier. Jevil hopefully would take the advice seriously. It seemed so when he asked the old cat what was usually considered 'romantic', and he remembered something about getting others deserts and candies??

Rouxls gave the box a suspisious look before looking back at Jevil and saying, "Open it."

Jevil flinched taken a bit back from the blunt reaction, but complied and opened the lid of the box and tilting it forward to show Rouxls the inside. Rouxls rose his brow at the familiar sweet smell and the sight of purple frosting with white sparkly sprinkles on top of what looked like was a vanilla naked cake, and topped off with a few star shaped dark candies. The Duke looked at the admittedly well done desert before his eyes and blinked before looking back up at the now nervous looking joker.

"Do you like it? Like it?"

He opened his mouth...but closed it a few more times before looking back at the cake with uncertainty. "I-....It's v-very lovely and thou lookest like you did a great job on making thine cake."

Jevil's face immediately lit up and his tail began wagging behind him. He giggled a bunch of those flustered giggles making his purple face flush a lighter hue. His hands flew up to cup his cheeks as he stared at the confused worm man, somehow having the cake hovering in mid air next to them. Rouxls gave a small smile at the situation, and stared back into the box.

"You r-really, really think so?"

"I- Well-..Y-Yes.*ahem* I...guess this is a good start to mine d- MMF!"

"Jevil!"

Rouxls was forced back a couple steps and toppled over and onto the ground with a soft thud. A force wrapped around his chest and neck added some weight to his fallen body as the imp had basically tackled the worm man...And speaking of Jevil. Clawed hands gripped the either side of Rouxls head gently while his face was gently pressed against his. He pulled back after a few seconds and the two just stared at each other. Rouxls mitch matched eyes staring into Jevil's black and pink ones-...Wait a minute. Since when was his eyes pink? He didn't get to ramble on that thought much longer before Jevil was yanked off of him by Seam. He held up Jevil in one hand and gave a 'Really?' look, to which the jester just giggled and shrugged at, in Seam's other hand was the box that had been previously floating. Seam sighed before looking down at Rouxls. The Duke didn't look scared, but more of a flushed shock as his blue face lit up a lighter color. Seam chuckled at that.

"Are you alright there friend? You two took quite a fast stumble there."

The duke made a whine noise and whispered, "Yeah...I-I'm good," in a squeaky voice. To which both the males laughed at.

Rouxls flushed more before clearing his throat and slowly propping himself up into a standing pose. He professionally patted his sides to rub the left dust off himself before bending down to pick up the dropped suit. He groaned at the dust bunnies stuck to it before inhaling and blowing on it, the air taking the dust with it.

"By the way, way. What were you dreaming, dreaming about?"

"What doth though meaneth?" Rouxls gave the imp a side glance, trying not to show too much of his flushed face.

Jevil's smiling face went to one of concern slowly and so did Seam's.

"You were melting and crying in your sleep....Are you alright?"

It took him a few seconds for his brain to process what they were talking about but he soon realized what. "Oh. That. Yes. I was just dreaming about Lancer.....Lancer?" His face shot up with a sudden look of horror as he turned to them. "SHITETH! What time tis it?!"

"By now I'd say it's about one or two hours before noon I believe."

"Fucketh me! I'm late!" A sudden fear shot through him as he realized what the Ex King Would've done if he had shown up late. He knew Lancer wouldn't even do anything like...he would, but the fact he left his boy all alone without notice made a rock of guilt form in his stomach. Quickly rushing past the two, he flew into what they assumed must've been his restroom before the door slammed shut behind him.

The two stared for a bit before looking at each other.

"Was it something I said? I said?"

"No. But you could have been more humble after giving him the cake," the cat said as lowered the jester to his feet, "What if he hit his head against something? We could've been in big trouble."

Jevil sheepishly shrugged before giggling. "My world revolves, revolves when my soul aches, aches for him."

Seam gave a chuckle at that. "At least you didn't throw any more heart."

Jevil gave a slightly offended look at that. "My Heart's Desire, Desire is nothing to be over looked, looked."

Before Seam could answer, the door slammed back open and a now fair amount of steam and a well groomed Duke walked out adjusting the last of what looked like the back of his hair. He still looked weary and hurried towards the other door behind the other two males.

"Where are you going, going?"

"I am lateth!" He was almost to the point of melting and ruining his suit. He didn't have time for any antics right now. "Lancer has been waiting for mine arrival for hours now! I shan't keep him waiting any longer! I needst to leave immediately!"

"In the rain, rain?"

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at the two.''N-Nay worry. I k-knoweth a short cut to mine destination-" Just as we was about to summon up the familiar bright flash of light upon teleporting, a clawed hand grabbed his own. He flinched and looked behind him as the imp smiled at him in a knowing way. "What art thou doing? Lancer needs me."

"Then allow me to help, help a poor soul in need.~" He smiled wider.

Rouxls was just about to ask what Jevil meant, when suddenly his entire world toppled sideways. His body felt stretched and the world spun and blurred as the tightness of his body squeezed the air out of his lungs. His eyes stung and as soon as it came it was gone, as he was firmly replanted back on his feet in one second as the tightness released his lungs. He gasped and stumbled into a solid wall to his right. He coughed and hacked up air as his lungs refilled themselves, as he gulped up air he felt someone grabbing his shoulder and gently pulling him back up into a standing position. Naturally he wobbled a bit before getting his balance back, his legs felt like jello as he struggled. He took a moment to blink and look over his shoulder at the smiling.

"See, see? I got us here, here with plenty of time to spare, spare."

"W-Wha-...What did thou just do?"

He giggled. "A simple little teleportation spell, spell. Lot's of practice, practice from disappearing acts."

Rouxls blinked. He could teleport this whole time?! He opened his mouth....But decided against it and instead decided on looking around them instead. They were somewhere cold, very cold. He had to blink a few times but he managed to make out the outline of bars and ....stairs? from the faint light coming from above the stairs.

"Ehehehehehe. In a little freedom freedom you see.~ Only place I feel, feel comfortable for now."

Rouxls blinked but decided against questioning anything Jevi did at this point and instead opted for walking away from Jevil and towards the stairs in a brisk pass. Jevil gave a confused look but floated after him with a jingle of bells. This time he remembered to duck out of the entrance and knocked over a few abandoned plates still sitting there, and made a mental note to have someone come down here and clean up the mess. Jevil followed him hovering all the way up the stairs and to the closed doors of the elevator and watched as Rouxls reached over to press the button to summon said elevator and he stood there staring at the closed doors. He mumbled to himself and tapped his foot anxiously as they waited, Jevil oh so casually crossed his arms and leaned himself against the top of the anxious duke's head as the two waited there.

"You know, I could, could just take you up there myself."

"N-No. I'm perfectly fine with waiting for this."

"If you insist, but I can give you, you a much better ride, ride.~"

"Jevil! Thoust worm!"

The imp gave off a round of laughter at the Duke's now flustered face. Rouxls sputtered in annoyance and only didn't start going on a tyrade because a ding rang out before the doors casually opened. Grunting, he stepped inside and pushed the first floor button on the panel. As expected, Jevil hovered in after him and floated by his shoulders with a smug grin on his face.

"You don't look happy, happy."

"Thou's tactic's for this 'game' are quite questionable," he muttered scowling.

That sent the imp off into another series of laughter before hovering closer and slowly beginning to press his body against the duke's side. Rouxls promptly took a step aside and scowled more.

"Doth thou mind?"

Jevil gave a curious look. "You don't like, like my heart's desire for you?"

"No...." Rouxls paused for a moment, a flash of what looked like fear quickly passed over his face before he back tracked. "I-..I mean..." He visibly gulped. "I did say thou should not bulldoze thou's way head f-first I-into things." A strained grin. "I-It's unhealthy f-for thou to do. Ahehe...he..*ahem*"

Jevil's smile slowly disapated when he saw the frozen smile upon the duke's face, It looked forced and not a genuine smile like all. And...did the Duke's chest start rising faster? The two stared at each other for what seemed like forever before Jevil swung his body forward to point his feet toward the floor of the elevator and soon floated down to land on it, all the while keeping eye contact with the other man. Rouxls kept that strained smile upon his face as he continued to watch the imp.

"Rouxls, Rouxls. What's wrong?" He slowly reached a hand out towards him-

Rouxls flinched at the movement and his pupils shrank down slightly. Jevil froze at the action before swiftly taking his hand back, a look of realization crossed his sharp face.

"Are you..you...scared of me..me?"

Rouxls didn't answer- But he didn't need to, the few drips of slimy sweat forming on his forehead was enough to show what the worm was really thinking. Jevil opened his mouth again but a small dinging noise broke the silence and the doors opened. Rouxls made sure to make a quick exit while excusing himself, leaving the imp just staring at the empty space that used to be the duke.

#seavil #seaxls #rouxls kaard x seam #jevil x seam #seam x jevil #seam x rouxls #rouxls x seam #Seam #rules of one's soul #jevil #jeam #rouxls kaard x jevil #jevil x rouxls #nosuit #rouxls kaard #rouxls x jevil #rouxlvil #deltarune nosuit #deltarune

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meanwhileinstasiville · 2 years ago

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All of white supremacy supports itself through peddling drugs

Today’s theme, on the way here. Also, a reminder that if I hadn’t met my old boss, I would’ve turned into him.

Cartels can use the KKK system to great effect, in part, because they don’t need hoods when most Americans are bigoted and/or race blind. Any place they’re not getting their way as a community, they “become” any number of gangs/cartels/royals/brotherhoods until the problem clears up. This community is no different.

So, my old boss’s son was very intent on driving his dad into politics thinking he’d have a better sense of consensus than most. And of course, he couldn’t do that, because he’s a drug kingpin and people could be maimed/murdered/raped/robbed on the basis of disagreement with him. I say I would’ve turned into him, because he has all the tokens of whiteness he can find for someone ethnically Mexican by his own admission.

He’s “whitez” the whitelaw, in ash white town, all of his “friends” (because he always claimed that he didn’t have any when asked) are half his age at best, and “the whitest kids he knows”. He has white interests in precious metals and wears glasses. He watches James Bond movies in the theater with family and friends (one of the whiter things white people do). He frequents high class Italian food that he *could* pass for, if you were to ignore the “kneeling” the business owners had to do, in order to build the restaurant in the first place. He quotes “Clerks”, he quotes Office Space. Sometimes Slingblade. His peers, call them “the boys” from Chicago, would have him identified with Danny DeVito; as a wink and nudge toward perhaps what could be a meaningful use of his time, in order that he gets where he really seems to want to be. At a time in the distant past, before *his* old man died, he could be found off-hours sitting in a chair and chain smoking while washing down the days events with gallons of Gallo (Spanish for rooster) wine. I have a feeling that was to replace the din of family chatter absent in the white world, yet ever present in any Mexican home with three or four generations under one roof. I say these things out of posterity because of the degree and immediacy of surveillance I’ve been under since starting work at his business circa 2002. We’re getting to the parallel. Tokens.

I’m not civilized.

I read War and Peace, Marquez, Coelho, Neruda, Kahlo, a slew of the “classic” Western authors and novelists. I “appreciate” Mesoamerican myth, Asian history pertaining to Japanese feudalism, sciences that are more of a practice than an established set of constants (the fuzzy stuff like sociology and psychology) which has a certain irony since I’m missing both guilt and shame in my emotional toolkit. Malkovich’s “Blackbeard” knew astrolabes backward and forward; impressive for a cannibal pirate, several languages, and would be considered “wicked cultured” for a barbarian (one of my scarier relatives considers me an “Uncle Tom” to this day).

My tumblr says I’m “down with the youth” and “up on arts and culture”; but I’m not civilized, I’m a clone of my aristocrats joke of a grandfather. And *he* wasn’t civilized either. Using the kind of language he would comes easily to describe some of the activities about town.

A woman running on commands phrased as requests, waits on the sidewalk for me to reach her stating that “she seems old for a gang member” because most of her teeth seem to be missing, to encounter her later after she speed walked her dog to catch up with me. I tell that “I don’t need any more stalkers”, to which she replies that “she has headphones in and can’t hear demons” sort of yelling it down the street. She could hear when I said “I carry a gun” meaning that danger went right through noise cancellation, but not concern about being an aged gang member with white hair; I think she’s confused about who she might be listening to. (I say that about guns because I assume there’s some kind of a lead-up to mass shootings, where people would be clued in to the state of others, but don’t seem to be listening at all and that seems borne out in testing so far. Smug smiles and contemptuous sighs are all a guy gets in response, which is strange for America being “gripped with terror” over mass shootings)

Back to the civilization. I have kinky sexual interests. I like statuesque women with Greek proportions. I ask a lot of complicated questions about fetishes that have no easy answers; chastity can’t make sense, but the promotion of it keeps spreading. There was a sidebar in a story about transgenders in a relationship more than twenty years, on one of the internet repositories. That’s about *all there is* for origin story. For someone as uncivilized as I am, Tumblr isn’t helping very much.

I hear that it’s (the collection of associated fetishes also) drugs. It’s about heroin (when Amazon ships the fetish equipment to a name and address). It’s about the Chinese overpopulation problem with scarce women (where monasticism is a 4000 year old narcissistic ideal) . It’s latent homosexuality (which seemed surprising to Dan Savage and his husband when *they* tried to figure it out). It occurs in Korea where most people will never go (A “best cup of coffee *you’ll* never have” to quote Mike Rowe) without specifying whether that’s Kim’s war crime Korea, or Moon’s America lite. It occurs when whites and blacks share a cell (so cameras can watch people rape instead of murder, I guess). It’s an alternative to chemical castration for pedophiles with *great* publicity on the internet (and some kind of oblivious but thriving hobbyist community). I ask *real* women from *real long-term relationships* and they say it makes men obsessed with their own genitals in ways that they never were before. The answer to any question turns out to be another dark road in the middle of the night.

My chain smoking chair was listening to music for 6-7 hours per day.

https://everything2.com/title/Some+of+our+best+friends+are+three+minutes+long (I used to *live* on Everything2 back in highschool)

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saetoru · 3 years ago

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𝟏𝟐:𝟎𝟕 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈.

he looks happy, you think, as you watch him laugh. sakusa has a smile that could bring the sun to her knees, and he’s a pretty sight—and more importantly, he’s yours. every moment with him, every word that’s spoken, and every kiss he steals is like scripture you hold dearly.

“you have really cute dimples, you know,” you hum, poking the small indents of his cheeks. he gently swats your hand away, rolling his eyes. his cheeks are still flushed from the laughter from earlier, and you brush a few loose curls from his forehead.

“you don’t have to always bring that up,” he groans. and truth be told, sakusa loves when you point out little things about him, he loves the way your voice is always in awe, and he loves being the center of your attention.

“but they’re so cute, kiyo,” you pout, pinching his cheek delicately. “how was the party?”

“boring,” he mutters. “hate that they made me go.”

“well, your dad is really strict about these kinds of things,” you hum, threading your fingers through his hair as his head slumps onto your shoulder. it’s your last semester with sakusa, and then you’re both off into the real world, and you can’t help but hold onto these moments of peace a little bit longer.

“he was so annoying,” he grumbles, sinking further into your touch as you wrap an arm around him and pull him into your chest. and you should both go home soon—sakusa has practice and you have class, but you like the soft breeze kissing your skin as you lean against the trunk of a tree, and you like the weight of him in your arms as he settles into your embrace.

sakusa has never thought he’d be the type to like things like picnics in the middle of the night—but you make him live life a bit differently now, and he can’t say he minds it so much.

“tried to talk you out of volleyball again?” you murmur, and he nods, sighing. his family’s a little bit of a sore spot, but he trusts you enough to let you see those parts of him, even if they’re not his favorite.

“rambled on with my aunt about how i’m wasting my youth chasing something meaningless,” he rants, “and he said i was tainting the family name,” he spits bitterly. “you know she agreed with him? what a hag,” he spits, and you throw your head back and laugh.

“i think they’re just jealous they’ve never been on a news article,” you poke his nose, and he crinkles it lightly.

“can’t stand them,” sakusa mutters, but he relaxes a little when you press a soft kiss to his moles, making him hug you a little tighter.

“you shouldn’t listen to them, kiyo,” you say gently. “you love volleyball.”

“what if my dad’s right though?” he whispers, and there’s a small hint of doubt that’s always lingered in his mind, but you never let it surface for long.

“he’s not. you were the best player on the team as a freshman,” you remind him.

“wakatoshi played in the olympics,” he huffs. “and so did kageyama. i want to play in the olympics,” he pouts, and you run your thumb over his cheek as you cup it, smiling when he leans into your palm.

“you will,” you say, and sakusa feels his lips almost start to wobble at the confidence in your tone—no one’s ever been this confident in him. no one he’s needed it from, anyway.

“my dad’s trying to convince me to work with him in his office this summer,” he rolls his eyes. “says he thinks i’ve fooled around enough.”

“aw, kiyoomi my little business man,” you giggle, pinching his nose and making him scowl. “hope you wear a cute little tie that i can pull you into a kiss with.”

“i’m not doing it,” he scoffs.

“will you wear the suit for me then?”

“no,” he says flatly.

“at least a tie?”

“i’m having a crisis here,” he insists dramatically, and this time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes. sakusa’s always been one for theatrics, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy the show.

“oh, you poor thing,” you pout, and he huffs, shaking his head as you pepper kisses along his forehead in faux sympathy.

“you…you really think i can play pro?” he questions, and you snort, looking off to the distance as your hand rubs over his back slowly. sakusa has never been one to express himself, but if there’s one thing he does express, it’s way he loves volleyball—and lately, it’s the way he loves you.

you think you’re content with the late night rendezvous he lets you rope him into, and the evenings of waiting for him when he stays extra after practice, and the facetimes as you both study for midterms, and the way he sneaks out of family parties and you put off studying so you can have a picnic with him in the middle of the night.

“well duh,” you say as though it’s the most obvious thing on the planet, and his chest tightens. “if you don’t make it pro, then there’s no hope for japan to win the olympics.”

snorting, kiyoomi sprawls himself over your lap, grinning up at you and making his dimples surface once more. you poke them again, and he swats your hand away, and it’s routine by now.

“believe in me that much, huh?” he wriggles his brows, but there’s a soft hitch of his breath when you cup his cheeks gently and lean your forehead against his, pecking his lips delicately.

“even if no one else does, i will, kiyo,” you murmur, and this time, as sakusa really does fight off the wobble of his lips, he doesn’t think he wants to prove his father wrong anymore.

he only cares about proving you right now.

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bengiyo · 2 years ago

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About Youth Eps 5 & 6 Stray Thoughts

It's time for the prettiest boys of the year.

I do love these little letters at the beginning.

Oh good, we're starting with Ray and (goes to MDL because I swear they never say his name) Jian.

I will always go feral for gay people taking pictures together in photo booths. It's an important part of our cultural history, and the young people should continue it.

Jian assuring Ray he can fix the broken jewelry feels so important. We all do unintentional harm all the time, but it's more important that we make amends than that we never make mistakes. Love this show.

The intro for this song is a bop. I like it.

Damn, the enthusiasm Ye Guang had completely drained out of him as he prepared to go back home.

Sharing headphones, my beloved trope. The private intimacy in public gets me every time.

Mmm, what's Jian's hesitation going into this first kiss? Ah he's not entirely ready, and now Ray is embarrassed.

Aww, and now Ray is hurt that Ye Guang won't tell him about Xu Qizhang.

Love Xu Qizhang insisting Ye Guang make up with Ray.

Oh, Ye Guang and Ray are adorable. My heart.

Ye Guang can't even have a cute little date with Qizhang because of his overbooked parental schedule.

Ray and Jian both have incredible aesthetics.

Guang's grades haven't slipped and he seems happier; clearly this is a problem and we must punish him.

Gosh, this is terrible. We don't need to put them much pressure on students.

Is the reason Ye Guang didn't want to tell Ray about Qu Qizhang that he didn't want Ray's encouragement? He knows his parents will oppose him, so he won't make it more real?

I absolutely love this outro song. I can't find it on Spotify yet, but it will become a regular listen.

On to episode 6!

This dynamic with the band members almost reminds me of Given.

I suppose Qizhang is older than Guang? I did really enjoy his conversation with Ray.

Oh no here come the overbearing parents again. Tracking Guang and making him feel worse when he's already so dutiful feels cruel.

It's interesting seeing Taiwan deal with parents. Every time the prospective partner tries apologize for the parents. It's a very specific expression of filial piety that Taiwan seems to want to grapple with the most.

Oh, this is sad. I don't think Guang should have said that, but I like Qizhang not pushing back.

I love Qizhang's mom. She knows something's up, but is gonna let her son determine when to share.

BL boys are always so tall that they don't fit on beds.

The dad is a hypocrite in the worst way. I am growing to truly despise him.

I love Mama Xu so much. She's really great at dealing with these boys. Love a character effectively laying out communication tools.

God, I want these noodles. I'm so hungry.

Oh, I really enjoyed seeing these two make up. That was lovely.

🎵 "I wanna be your faith is slow motion. I can't forget your face in slow motion." 🎵

Oh I wish this show had previews.

#about youth #taiwan bl #taiwanese bl #bl series #Ben watches

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helloprettybb · 3 years ago

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slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines

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needleandhammer · 4 years ago

Text

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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