#and it took 60 years for us to catch on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wispyxjae · 24 days ago

Text

touch and feel

day 14: overstimulation/massaging/begging with hwang intak

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

wc: 4.9k

summary: intak has been your massage therapist for a few months now. you don’t know if it’s the actual magic in his hands or it’s just your seemingly silly crush on him but you can’t go to anyone else for massages. one night he makes an exception for you to see him after hours.

cw: dom massage therapist!intak x sub!reader, porn with plot, strangers to lovers, massaging, begging, overstimulation, dirty talk, fingering, intak accidentally walks in on you naked once, pretty as a pet name, praise, body worship(?), sensory deprivation kind of (reader is laying face down on the table for most of it)

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a full fic with plot and it’s for piwontober! thank you sooo so much @sxfterhearts and @kisseobie for hosting such a wonderful event. i'm so grateful to get the opportunity to write for this event alongside all these amazing writers ♡ and thank you to my bb @hazyhae for beta reading <3

the first time you meet intak, it’s your first time at the massage spa he’s a manager and massage therapist at. your best friend, being the sweet angel she is, handed you a free voucher for this place she’s been going to for the last few months while you guys were out at saturday brunch.

“you know,” she meets your eyes. “you deserve to treat yourself every once in a while,” her big doe eyes stare at you, concern flashing through them. you smile softly at her.

“thanks for looking out for me y/f/n,” you thank her sincerely. the both of you know how many hours you’re working in a week, spending at least 8 hours a day (sometimes 10 depending on the time of year) hunched in front of a computer.

of course your shitty company turned down the idea of implementing standing desks or higher quality office chairs, so you’re consistently stuck with tight hips, sore shoulders, and a killer stiff neck.

you decide to go the very next day as you, surprisingly, didn’t have anything planned on a sunday. usually, you’d be grocery shopping or prepping for the week ahead, but you took care of that with your best friend before brunch so your sunday was free for a much needed self-care day.

the moment you walk through the doors of serenity spa, an insanely cute guy greets you with these big brown eyes that sparkle at you as he speaks. “hi, welcome to serenity spa! do you have an appointment with us?” his eyes are big and round, staring up at you.

“i don’t,” you shake your head. you reach in your purse for the voucher and present it to him. “but i have this voucher for a free massage? it’s my first time here and i saw i could just walk in.”

he takes the paper from your hands while smiling. “that’s perfect! here, you can take a seat and just fill out this preference sheet,” he says, handing you a clipboard and pen. you follow as he says and get to scribbling on the sheet.

“y/n, 60 minutes, full back massage, light pressure, and aromatherapy,” he repeats your choices back to you. “you don’t have a preference for a therapist, right?” he double checks your paper and glances up at you, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden eye contact as you shake your head no.

“it seems that everyone else has a client, but lucky for you my books are actually free for the next hour. so i can take care of you for your first time if you’d like?” his plush lips turning up into a smile.

you finally glance at his name tag which reads intak and head manager right under.

“that sounds great actually,” you return the smile, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you realize how intimate he could possibly get on the first meeting. “but that’s his job,” you have to remind yourself before you end up psyching out.

he leads you to a room where the lights are dim, a handful of lit candles are placed throughout, and there’s soft spa music playing from a speaker.

“alright y/n, just go ahead and get undressed. you can lay on your front and cover yourself with this towel. i’ll give you a few minutes,” intak explains, gesturing toward the massage bed with a small cover up and towel for your privacy placed nicely in the center.

you let the door close behind him before you move to place your bag on the small table in the corner of the room. you follow his directions, pushing any embarrassing thoughts of getting naked in front of this incredibly attractive stranger on the first meeting.

lying down on the table, you gently place your head through the hole and pull the towel over your butt before resting your arms by your side as you stare at the ground, taking a few deep breaths to get rid of your nerves. it’s just a massage.

the massage goes incredibly smoothly with the help of intak’s professionalism soothing any worries you had. his large warm palms worked their magic all around your back and shoulders, working gently through the knots you had built up under the skin.

you were so lost in time, his hands distracting you from thinking of anything that could possibly stress you that you almost whine in protest at the end of your massage, wishing you had booked him for longer.

you hear him wipe his hands on a towel before wiping lightly the excess massage oil off your back and arms.

“i’ll let you get dressed and you can meet me back at the front desk to get you checked out, alright?” you hum in agreement, feeling a bit sleepy after the complete relaxation session you just had.

he chuckles at the slight rasp in your voice after such a quiet session, since you only replied in hums any time he asked you if the pressure he was applying was okay, or if the temperature of the warm towels he used were alright.

“just take your time, there’s no rush,” he reassures you softly. thank god you were lying face down so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

you get redressed and grab your bag before checking out at the front desk.

“and did you want to book your next appointment at this time?” intak asks.

“yeah, why not?” you smile at him. he nods before clicking around on the computer. he schedules your next appointment for a month out at the same time as today.

“did you want to book me again or see a different massage therapist?” you blush at his question, already knowing you wanted to feel his incredible hands on you again. that’s not weird, right?

“i guess i wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” you tease him, a smile creeping onto your face. “oh, and can you make it a 90-minute appointment this time?” you ask shyly. “i actually wish this session was longer because you’ve got some mad skills,” you have to mumble to save yourself a bit.

“oh so i’ve already got you hooked after one visit, huh?” he smirks back at you, a small giggle leaving his lips. “don’t worry, y/n, i’ve got you.” he grabs a card from the acrylic holder in front of him, scribbling down your appointment details with a pen. you roll your eyes but can’t wipe your smile away.

“thanks. i’ll see you next month, intak,” you reply, turning to walk out before you can get any more embarrassed. what you don’t see is intak cheesing like an idiot for the rest of the day after you leave.

the third time you meet intak, it’s at your third appointment which you happened to book just 2 weeks after the second one instead of another month out.

it’s not that work got any worse than it already was, or that you had other stressors in your life. you don’t even really work out hard enough to really be sore.

to be quite frank, you simply couldn’t get enough of not just his hands (hell, you even start to add other body areas to your sessions now that you’ve gotten more comfortable with him), but now his company as well.

during your second appointment, you made a conscious effort to initiate more small talk with intak. you couldn’t help but want to learn more about him and this time wouldn’t be different from the last.

after intak leads you to his massage room and leaves you be, you start your usual routine of putting your belongings on the corner table before undressing. this time, though, you get distracted by the buzzing of your phone in your bag. you reach for it to put it on do not disturb, and you miss the knock at the door.

you don’t react fast enough before it swings open, a yelp escaping your lips as your hands come up to cover yourself as much as you can.

“oh! shit, i’m so sorry,” intak mutters before shutting the door. in all his time of working here he has never accidentally walked in on anyone until now. and of course it was you. he presses his hands to his face to cool himself down, walking back to the front desk to take a sip of cold water to bring him back to his senses.

your heart is racing while you stand vulnerably alone in the massage room. you put your phone away and settle onto the massage table like normal. god, how was the rest of this appointment gonna go now?

after what feels like forever, there’s another knock at the door, and this time intak remembers to ask if you’re ready for him.

“yeah, i’m ready,” you reply, clearing your throat afterwards. once intak takes a deep breath, he enters the room, proceeding as usual.

“i am so sorry about that, y/n,” he starts to apologize, genuine worry in his voice as the guilt pangs in his chest. “i’m not going to make any excuses but it was a genuine accident.” the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to respect your boundaries.

“it’s okay!” you blurt out a bit too quickly. “it was a mistake and you really do sound like you feel bad, so apology accepted,” you continue, hoping to ease his concerns. “and hey, we can forget this ever happened as long as you work your magic like you always do.” you lift your head slightly in order to get a peek of him since you never get to see his face during these appointments.

intak sighs in relief, meeting your eyes and smiling apologetically. “thank you for understanding,” he says sincerely.

once he gets started, it feels like most, if not all, the tension in both the air and your muscles has faded out.

“so how long have you been a massage therapist for?” you asked, breathing deeply to try not to audibly react to his hands that worked through your calf muscles.

“it’s been a little over a year,” he replies. “i got the manager position here about 6 months ago now and i love it. i enjoy making a difference in people’s lives and their wellbeing,” he speaks fondly.

“you don’t need to take my word for it, but you deserve it. you’re amazing at what you do- ooooh,” your last word draws out as he digs a bit deeper into your leg.

he laughs at your reaction. “that didn’t hurt did it?” he soothes over the area with a broad hand as to not put any more pressure in case it did hurt.

“no! no, not at all. it felt really good,” you exhaled. “you’ve got some sorcery or something in those hands, intak, i swear.” his cheeks flush at your compliments.

“i’m just doing my job, y/n,” he mutters, not being able to accept such kind words from someone as pretty as you. he’s grateful you’re not facing him because he would not be handling this as coolly as he is now.

“can you tell me more about yourself?” you ask, voice a bit small as even you can’t believe you’re initiating this.

“hmm,” he hums, thinking of what to tell you. “when i’m not working, i’m at the gym. i love working out and improving myself. i usually lift weights but… i actually really love dancing too.”

your eyebrows raise, even though he can’t see you. “really?” you ask in disbelief. “i wish i could dance… maybe you can teach me someday,” you say through a smile.

“i would love to teach you,” he replies, chuckling. are you flirting with him right now? no… surely it’s just a friendly conversation.

“your girlfriend must be really lucky,” you say, immediately flustering yourself at how bold that statement was. “i mean, like imagine coming home from work and you just get one hell of a massage from your partner,” you stumble out, trying to cover for yourself, holding your breath.

“whoa, hey. relax your muscles for me and keep breathing. you’re tensing up,” intak points out, his hands gliding across your skin with the help of the massage oil. “and for the record, i’m single,” he adds, blood rushing to his cheeks. okay maybe you are flirting with him.

you exhale a little louder than you mean to, a great relief washing over you at this new knowledge. as if a lightbulb goes off above your head, you start brainstorming with more conversation topics. not wanting to make things awkward, you both move past this conversation and begin to talk about yourself to allow him to know about you too.

the fourth time you meet intak is at your fourth appointment. you booked this one for just a week after the last one, too impatient to wait an extra week to see him again.

after last week’s session of you two nonstop flirting in the massage room, you just wanted to see him even more often. your best friend even caught your change in attitude, noting you were happier and more lively ever since you started going to the spa for massages. you just blushed and brushed her off, not wanting her to tease you for crushing on your massage therapist.

today’s session was almost no different than the last, the two of you settling into a routine now.

you knew he started with the aromatherapy, letting you breathe in the scent of lavender for relaxation.

you knew he kindly moved any stray hairs away from your neck before settling into the muscles there.

you knew the paths he took on your body each time.

of course, you hadn’t changed up your preferences besides longer sessions and firmer pressure since the first session.

this time, though, you decided not to hold back on your sighs and sounds of pleasure as his dexterous fingers kneaded and relaxed your muscles.

you wanted to test the waters. at first, it really was just a reflex. you were a naturally sensitive and reactive person. you had just been holding back in front of intak in case things became awkward, or it was too unprofessional on your end.

after learning he was single, you never missed the way his eyes lit up when he spoke to you at the front desk, or the slight stutter in his answers when you asked him something a bit more personal. it was cute, really. there was just something about flustering a cute boy who already has his hands all over you.

it didn’t take much from him to draw out a few mewls from you. the first few times, he didn’t think much of it. his hands still moved steadily as they always did across the expanse of your back.

the more noises you made, the more intak’s hands, which are usually confident and firm, started to falter.

he clears his throat. “you’re sure i’m not hurting you, right y/n?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“intak, i would tell you if it hurt,” you reassured him. “it just feels really really good… you just really know how to work those hands.”

intak thanks whatever higher being there is that you can’t see him, otherwise you’d poke fun at how red and hot his cheeks and ears were getting. hell, his hands were even starting to sweat and he didn’t think that was possible with the oil covering his hands.

“why, is there something wrong?” you ask, trying to hide the smirk in your voice after noticing he couldn’t even reply back. there was no way you weren’t doing this on purpose…

“no, no,” he chokes out. “not at all… you’re just a bit more… reactive today and i just wanted to make sure you were comfortable… you know, with the pressure and everything,” intak babbles on. “but if everything’s okay i’m gonna continue with the massage.”

you hum back in response, deciding to spare the poor guy of your teasing.

the fifth time you meet intak is at your fifth appointment.

after the incident of your fourth appointment, intak shyly asked for your number (even though it was already in the system after your first visit; he didn’t wanna seem like a creep just taking it from the computer).

“you know, just in case you need an emergency visit from me,” he fibs. you laughed and agreed, reading out your number for him to shoot you a text.

“intak :)” the text simply reads.

since getting each others’ numbers, the flirting between the two of you had become both more natural and frequent. you guys text all day everyday about anything and everything, and intak can confidently admit he is very happy you haven’t booked with another massage therapist that isn’t him.

needless to say, you’ve become a regular of his and you’d be lying if you said you were booking massages for the sole reason of getting a massage. it had become your routine to see him at this point.

as usual, you book your next appointment at the end of the previous one. and usually, you reserve these appointment days just to see intak. you’d been seeing him for 2 months now so you already knew which days you’d be seeing him, but you forgot to check in advanced and only now (2 days before your scheduled appointment) realized you had other plans that day already.

shit, now you have to reschedule with intak.

5:42pm you: hey intak

5:42pm you: remember when you said i could ask you for emergency visits?

5:47pm intak: hi pretty, yeah why?

5:49pm you: i didn’t realize i was already busy at the same time as my next appointment is scheduled…

5:49pm you: can i redeem an emergency visit for today instead? it’s okay if not

you only half-expected intak to drop everything to see you, but what you didn’t expect was for your fifth appointment to be held after hours at the massage spa.

intak would be lying if said he wasn’t giggling and kicking his feet at the idea of just the two of you alone in such an intimate session. was he risking his career for this? possibly. could he find a way to cover this up to his coworkers and supervisor? that was an issue for later.

right now, as he unlocked the front door with you standing behind him, his heart was pounding. he really couldn’t believe he was doing this just for you, but he was curious as to what was going to happen now after the incident.

“if you want, you can just sit here while i get the room prepped,” intak smiles at you, pointing to the massage table. you sit down, still clothed, legs hanging off the side as you watch intak prepare everything that would be needed for the next 90 minutes. you were curious since you never got to see the behind-the-scenes before your usual appointments.

intak leaves and lets you change and get comfortable, shouting for him once you’re ready like he instructed since it was just the two of you.

the massage starts like normal, everything being the exact same as every other time you’re laying on this very table. but there’s something else in the air that’s distracting you.

something about the two of you being alone in such an intimate environment, really getting to feel his hands make their way across your skin, especially after all the flirting and tension that has been growing between the two of you, has you hot and bothered.

even thinking about how flustered he got when you were moaning out to tease him just a week ago has your thighs pressing together to give you some relief.

intak notices right away. “just relax and keep breathing for me, pretty,” he mumbles. he’s working on the backs of your thighs, fingers dancing so close to where you want him. he’s gently pulling your legs apart to knead into the supple skin, but you let out a whimper at his actions.

“are you okay?” he asks, slightly breathless. you hope he’s thinking the same thing as you before you inhale and exhale deeply.

“intak… can you please touch me?” you ask just loud enough for him to hear, your breath catching in your throat.

“i… i’m massaging you, y/n. what do you mean touch you?” his fingers stop in their tracks and his ears perk up because of how nicely you asked, catching him off guard.

you use your arms to push your upper body off of the table, moving your hair to one side as you look back at him, one of your arms coming across your chest to cover yourself slightly.

intak’s big puppy eyes don’t leave yours as soon as your eyes lock with his.

“please… i need you here,” you say, wiggling your butt with his hands still placed on your skin there.

intak all but gasps, blood rushing straight down after hearing how desperate you sound. his fingers trail up cautiously while he feels your eyes still on him. he swipes a finger across your slit which is now dripping with arousal.

“shit,” he mutters. “do you get this wet every time i give you a massage?” he asks gingerly, his eyes nearly burning a hole through the towel that’s covering your butt.

“intak…” you whine. “can you just take the towel off my ass please?” you ask desperately, your upper body dropping back onto the massage table after losing strength at the slightest feeling of his fingers.

intak swallows thickly, getting rid of the dry feeling he was getting from gawking at you with his mouth open, and obliges.

“are you sure you want this? here? now?” he’s asking. you lift your head to look at him again. his cheeks are a deep shade of red.

“intak i swear to god,” you huff. you had to admit the consent was hot. he literally had you at the palm of his hand and he was still asking if you were okay. “yes. yes i want this, please just-” you’re cut off by your own gasp as he pulls the towel off, his fingers come back to your slit, sliding down to your clit once. you let out a sigh at the relief his digits are providing you.

“so fucking wet,” intak whispers and you almost miss it. you hear the cap to the massage oil pop open before you feel a warm liquid being poured onto your ass and it sends butterflies to your stomach. he uses both hands to massage and spread your cheeks with the oil and you do nothing to stop the noises that are escaping your lips.

as one hand continues gripping and groping your ass, his other fingers are back on your pussy and he groans at the sight of you, oiled up and sprawled out for him. he presses a single digit to your hole which flutters at the contact before pulling away, making you whine.

“what’s wrong, pretty?” he asks, feigning concern as he starts drawing slow circles on your clit. you feel his weight on the table as he sits on it by your leg. you wiggle back at him, not trusting your voice right now.

“intaaak,” you whine out, getting frustrated that he was still talking to you like you weren’t at his complete mercy.

“go on, you’ve got it,” he encourages, biting back a smile. “tell me what you want…”

“please,” you breathe out. he barely moves. once you realize that wasn’t enough you continue. “please… i want- i need your fingers,” you barely manage to squeak out the words.

fortunately for you, this was enough for intak. he pours more oil over your cunt, not that you needed it, but there was something about seeing your pussy glistening between his fingers that had his head reeling. he pushes your legs further apart and uses both hands to slowly spread your folds apart, almost like it’s part of the massage routine.

you’re doing nothing to bite back your moans, but you don’t miss his soft grunts in response just from seeing you and hearing your noises for him.

“you’re so cute when you beg for me, pretty,” intak mumbles. his sinfully sweet words paired with one of his soft fingers sinking into your impossibly slick cunt has you breathless. he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he watches you suck his finger back in each time he thrusts out, feeling your walls fluttering around his digit.

“letting me take care of you like this…” intak revels in the sight of you laying on the table all sprawled out for him. he adds another finger, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you are. “shit, baby you’re so tight,” intak grits.

you feel his other hand leave your ass, snaking its way around to your clit. he’s now massaging your pussy with both of his hands and the stimulation has you going lightheaded. you so badly wish you could see his face, but you’re stuck on your stomach, staring at the ground.

the longer his fingers are between your legs, toying with your most sensitive parts, the tighter the knot in your stomach gets. intak can feel the way you’re clenching around his fingers. he can hear your staggered breaths. he sees the way your thighs start to shake.

“you’re gonna cum aren’t you, pretty?” he asks in the sweetest voice. his fingers quicken their pace both inside of you and on your clit, and you feel the band about to snap.

“yes! yes, f-fuck… intak please,” you manage to get out between moans.

“you’re so sweet, pretty... i don’t even have to ask you to beg… you just do it anyway…” intak is in awe. how was he so lucky to be experiencing this right now? “go on, cum for me.”

hot white flashes behind your eyes as you cum, your walls constricting his fingers like they don’t want them to leave. and he doesn’t.

intak doesn’t stop stroking your gummy walls, nor does he stop circling your clit with the smooth tips of his fingers. he’s pumping his digits even faster and deeper in you than before, determined to make you cum again.

“intak!” you gasp, body writhing at the overwhelming sensations. but intak doesn’t hear you. his eyes are laser focused on your cunt, not stopping his movements. “intak, it’s… it’s too much, please!”

“oh, pretty,” he coos. “i’m sure you can take another one, can’t you?” he asks gently. the contrast between the sweet tone of his voice and the harsh movement of his fingers has your eyes rolling back. you feel another band tightening deep in your stomach this time and it makes you squeal.

he coaxes another orgasm out of you, and truth be told he could do this forever. between the cute noises leaving you and the way your pussy grips onto his fingers, he can’t get enough of you. your body squirms under his touch and you’re met with post-orgasm shudders.

intak finally lets up, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. he watches your hole clench around nothing, streaks of oil and cum smeared on your inner thighs.

you pull yourself up again on your elbows as best as you can, head turning to look at intak who’s already looking at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s holding up his fingers which are covered in your slick for you to see. you wince at him before he’s putting his fingers in his mouth, tongue cleaning them up with a groan.

“oh… now i really need to taste you,” intak sighs out, moving toward you.

“what happened to hello, how are you?” you ask in disbelief. a smile makes its way to your lips as you notice him pouting at you, his sweet puppy eyes on full display.

“hello, how are you, pretty?” he asks, smiling at you now. he kneels down next to you. “i know this is really backwards but… can i take you out for dinner?” he asks shyly. you pretend to think about it, his eyes not leaving your face as he waits for your answer.

“hmm…” you start, noticing his lips moving into a pout again. “i would love to go out with you, intak.” you both are smiling like idiots, coming to realize what really just happened at his workplace of all places.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” intak laughs.

“yeah but were you gonna make the first move if i didn’t?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“oh shut up,” he replies, his cheeks turning pink.

263 notes · View notes

xjaylyn · 4 months ago

Text

PART 2 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance.

a/n: Its a long chapter this one

Walking into the precinct, the two partners were immediately met by their captain waiting for them at their desks. Rita nodded her head towards the conference room, causing them to look into the room. There stood four different department leads, all looking over and discussing whatever was in their files.

"What's going on? Why we got the whole government and they momma here?" Waving his hand toward the room, Marcus looked back at Rita, visible stress apparent on her face.

"That's what I'm figuring out now. All I know is that there are a few murders that we have to look into," Rita said, shaking her head and walking towards the conference room. The two detectives followed close behind.

"Well, ain't that what homicide is for? We investigate and handle narcotics."

Opening the door, the three officers stepped into the room, causing the group of leads to look at them. A tall middle-aged man stepped up and handed them all a file.

"Thank you for joining us. I'm Chief Paul Nicola of Homicide. Take a seat, please."

The three officers looked at each other for a moment before taking their seats at the table. "This is going to be a brief description of a case we have been investigating for the past 60 years," Paul said while walking to the end of the table.

A low whistle came from Mike, a confused look on his face. "60 years? And y'all ain't tell nobody? Why are we just getting involved?"

"We have only been studying, no action or busts have been involved. It's the most complex and biggest case we have ever worked on. Even the military is involved. Actually, every department of the law has been involved."

"What exactly is going on? No one has actually answered this simple question… why you bring us in?" Marcus backed his partner, dropping the file on the table.

Clearing his throat, Paul opened the file and took out an envelope of pictures, lining them up on the table. "For the past 60 years, there has been an increase in under-the-table deals. Criminals and serial killers have been on the rise, and taking of children and trafficking has become common. Technology and information have become more advanced and accessible."

Looking at the pictures, there were numerous photos of different faces, some they recognized from past cases they had worked on, others unknown. Some photos were of missing children, crime scenes, evidence, and locations. It was a mess of all the cases the government had worked on, all together in one file.

"Almost every case we have worked on for the past 60 years is somewhat connected. Mike and Marcus, the drug busts you both have operated for the past 20-plus years have all been connected to an even bigger case. Some wars our military has been in are all connected. The murders, the victims, the invasions, everything has been fucking connected this whole time. You understand what I'm saying?" Paul leaned on the table, looking at all the officers.

Stepping back to catch his breath, Paul scanned the room one final time, tilted his head down, pinched the bridge of his nose, and slightly chuckled. "We finally have someone from the inside working with us. She is willing to give us information as long as we help her with one thing."

"Now hold on," Marcus scoffed. "You telling me everything we all have ever worked on for the past 60 years is all tied together in one big-ass mess?" Marcus leaned back, waving his arms around, then leaned forward on the table. "And you have some random female saying she can help because she has 'information' with a case y'all have been studying for 60 years in exchange for something strange."

"She was captured by the military in the middle of a mission regarding this case. We know that she is involved with whatever is going on. This is the most we have come up with in 60 years, so yes, we are taking this chance, and you two will work with her."

"Oh wow, that's great. Work with an informant. We love that, don't we, Marcus?" Mike looked at his partner with a smirk on his face. Marcus just shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"We will keep you all updated while we work this case. You can pick her up tomorrow." Paul and the others all nodded their heads and left the room. Closing the door, Rita looked at the two detectives.

"Well, we're going to need all the help we can get. I'll call in AMMO, and uh, Mike, you have business in Virginia to take care of. I'll give you the address," Rita said while pulling out her phone.

"Me? I don't got no business in Virginia," Mike denied, pointing at himself.

Looking up briefly, Rita nodded her head. "Yes, you do. Look, I'm not supposed to tell you, but AMMO and I have been tracking Armando. He's currently in Virginia, keeping a low profile. We need you to pick him up. He might know something, and he was a good help on the last mission. I sent you the address." Putting her phone back in her pocket, she grabbed a file off the table and walked out of the room.

"So a road trip to Virginia, huh?" Marcus looked at his partner, staring at nothing.

So he's alive and well…in Virginia…this whole time. Shaking his head, Mike could only think about how Armando might be doing. Is he back in the streets? Does he have somewhere to stay? Why do I only see him when we need help on a mission? It was like falling into a rabbit hole when it came to his son.

"Aye Mike, come on. You can ask all the questions when we get there."

--------------------------------------------------------

…VIRGINIA…13 HOURS LATER…

"You coming in?"

"Nah, but get me a large chocolate shake with whipped cream and sprinkles and a uhhh patty melt with a large fry."

"Marcus, you not eating in my car. I'm going to the bathroom, and we out," Mike said, getting out of the car.

The two had stopped 30 minutes from their destination at a burger place on the side of the road. Walking in, Mike noticed only two people sitting down in the small place. Heading to the bathroom, he passed by a couple of booths.

After doing his business, he walked out and noticed a man sitting in the booth facing his way. Furrowing his brows, he kept walking, staring at the man, then he saw those eyes look up at him.

They stared at each other for a second before his son rolled his eyes, dropped his food, and leaned back into the booth. "How'd you find me?"

Sliding into the booth, Mike ignored the question. "How are you?" Feeling his chest tighten, he couldn't help but feel every emotion he had held in these past couple of years. He had sent his son on a raggedy boat, bleeding out with nothing.

"I'm alive…keeping low," Armando answered briefly. "How'd you find me?" he questioned one more time, squinting his eyes at the man in front of him.

"That doesn't matter. Have you been working? Got a place to stay? What do you mean by keeping low?" Mike pressed further.

Armando just stared at his father. He noticed a pattern early on. Mike only comes to him when he needs help on a job. Granted, that was a way to lessen his sentence, but he's on the run now. Why try to bring him back in if it will only land him back in jail?

"Why are you here?" Armando questioned, leaning forward.

Silence fell upon the two as Mike looked out the window. "We need your help on a mission."

There it is. Armando chuckled, nodding his head. "Yeah, I figured. The answer's no. I barely have anything here, but I'd rather this than go back in a fucking cell, and what, nine months off a life sentence?" he gritted, causing Mike to look at him.

"Listen, I know how it sounds, but son—"

"Armando," interrupting his father. Armando looked him in the eye with a straight face, irritation starting to form within him.

Mike sighed and dropped his hands on the table. Calmly picking up where he left off, "-Armando…we do this one last mission. If it's successful, you're a free man. I promise you, just trust me, this mission will drop it all and you can go wherever you want…you can live your life however you want."

"And if it fails?"

Mike stared back into his son's eyes. "I'll get you out. Before anyone can get you, you'll be long gone, and I won't bother you again, but you'll still be on the run…limited."

Falling back, Armando knew he could trust his father. The man has been trying to help him in every way he can. And if this mission succeeds, then he can start over. Fuck it. Picking up a fry, "Fine…but we need to stop at my place first."

"Ok, thank you. Pack up your food; you can eat in the car."

--------------------------------------------------------

"Damn, is the man taking a shit? I knew we shouldn't have eaten those burritos. I told him his ass would be on fire," Marcus mumbled, shaking his head. Looking out the car window, he saw his partner with someone walking beside him toward the car. Squinting a little, he noticed the man as his nephew.

"Well, I'll be damned…the kid's alive."

The doors to the car opened, and Mike and Armando got into the car. Armando, noticing his dad's partner in the front seat, rolled his eyes, already knowing the man's antics.

"Well, I'm glad to see you too, nephew," Marcus smiled, then looked up at Mike. "See, I told you he'd be fine. He's just like his damn father, can't fucking die."

Armando listened to the two banter and opened his bag of food, taking out a fry and biting into his burger. All of a sudden, he heard Marcus dramatically gasp.

"Oh-ohhh, MIKE, HE EATING IN YO CAR!" Marcus yelled, pointing back at Armando, looking at Mike driving. Mike glanced at Marcus, "Yeah? So let him eat."

Marcus's mouth dropped, and he dramatically leaned back with his hand on his chest. "MICHAEL, SO HE CAN EAT IN YO CAR, BUT WHEN I TRY, IT'S A PROBLEM."

In the back seat, Armando smirked, watching his father and uncle go back and forth. Taking another bite of his burger, a piece of lettuce and sauce dropped on the seat.

"MIKE, LOOK, HE MAKING A MESS."

"Marcus, shut the hell up. Give him a napkin. He can wipe it when he's done."

"Oh-oh, see, that's cold, Michael. That's some cold shit, Mike…we been boys since wayyy back, and I can't eat in your car?! I feel like we ain't boys no more," Marcus shook his head with a disgusted look on his face. "Some bullshit, I tell you…when you think you know someone," Marcus said, turning to look at the window.

Mike looked in the rear view to glance at Armando.

He's okay.

Tag list (lmk if you want to be added):

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers

#armando aretas #armando x reader #armando imagine #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas x black!oc #armando aretas x black reader #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #bad boys second chances #bad boys #martin lawrence #marcus burnett #will smith #mike lowrey

242 notes · View notes

darthannie · 1 year ago

Text

day twenty-one: virginity kink with neil lewis

pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader word count: 933 warnings: inexperienced reader, kinda dom!Neil, use of “baby”, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, they’re best friends baby! a/n: I’m trying to play catch up, but kinktober will go into November! Anyways, I love Neil so much. kinktober masterlist

Neil was your best friend in the whole entire world. You’d gotten close over the years, making you inseparable. When he first opened his video store you were the one who helped him. You’d been through so much together, it was only natural you were close.

He made you smile more than you’d like to admit and your crush on him grew as the years went on. Sometimes when you hung out the conversation turned to one about relationships, more specifically how you haven’t been in one in years.

He was always urging you to put yourself out there. Find someone and take the lead, ask them out on a date, see what happens. This was the first time you divulged a tidbit of information about your sex life.

“What do you mean you’ve never had sex?” Neil’s reaction was almost cartoonish, dropping his jaw in disbelief.

“It’s exactly what I mean. I mean I’ve never had sex.”

“That’s not true. It can’t be. You’re-“

“I’m what?”, you questioned.

“You’re too pretty to have never been fucked before,” he said matter a factly as if this information was common knowledge between the two of you.

He called me pretty, you thought. He’d never mentioned you and pretty in the same sentence. You wondered if he had meant what he said. You realized you had been silent for longer than you should have been, and all you could say was “Oh.”

“You really have never…”

“I already said no, Neil. I haven’t.” You were starting to feel a little ashamed. You couldn’t read his reaction until his voice got a little lower. “I’m kinda into that.”

“You are?” You didn’t even know that was possible. “Yeah I mean,” he got closer to you as he spoke, “if you’d let me I’d love to take your virginity.” You blinked, thinking each time you opened your eyes Neil would be gone and this would all be a dream.

But, it was very real and Neil was waiting for your response. He grabbed your face and pulled you in for a light kiss to bring you out of your stupor. Once you realized what was happening, you kissed him back and grabbed his forearm. His hand found his way to yours and he grabbed it to lead you to the bedroom. “Come on. I have to teach you a couple things.”

You got on the bed and Neil started to strip, you did the same until you were both naked. He laid back on the bed and, feeling bold, you straddled him. “Wow, baby, getting ambitious.” He flipped you over so that he was on top, “Not today though.” He kissed you hungrily, “Pretty little virgin like you has to be ruined first. Isn’t that right?” He tilted his head, smirking at you. You nodded and looked down at his already hard cock. You reached down to wrap your hand around him and he stifled a moan. He hardened further in your hand, dripping precum. “God, such a pretty girl. I can’t wait to take your virginity. Who knew my biggest fantasy was right in front of me this whole time.” His enthusiasm made you wet. “Neil, please fuck me.”

He smirked, “Oh and she begs too.” He lined himself up and pushed his tip inside you. You felt a brief sting that dissolved into pleasure. “Neil, more,” you moaned. He thrust into you, savoring the moment. He took pride in the fact that he was the one to take something from you. He was the first man to be inside you. He was the first one to make you feel this way.

Once he started moving, your moans turned into cries. “I didn’t think you’d be so loud.” You were because he started out with a pace that would rival a car going 0 to 60 in 3 seconds. He meant it when he said he was going to ruin you. You grabbed at his shoulders and pulled him down, wanting him to be as close to you as possible. You could only imagine the image of him on top of you, kissing your neck, licking and sucking in all the right places.

He whispered in your ear, “Ready to cum on my cock for the first time?’

“Yes, Neil!”, you pleaded, “I need it, please.”

He smirked, “Beg again. I need to hear you beg, baby.” You were too far gone to protest.

“Neil please make me cum. Please I need it so bad. Cum inside me.”

He was almost patronizing. “Who knew you’d be so dirty your first time? What, are you trying to get pregnant on the first try? You want me to make you mine?” His words made you moan, your face got hot. It was not something you had previously explored, but it felt right with Neil. You wanted to fill him coat the inside of you with his cum, mark you as his. “Yes!” You yelped when your orgasm happened. This was the first time you’d ever felt this amount of pleasure. You rarely touched yourself, and when you did it was never for longer than a minute. Neil’s orgasm closely followed after feeling you squeeze around him involuntarily. He filled you with his cum, unafraid of the consequences.

He pulled out of you, “Come here,” he gestured. You laid on top of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “Do you really want me to be yours?”, you asked tentatively

“More than anything.” You felt him start to harden again and you smirked, “Ready for round two already?”

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @00hsv, @laylasbunbunny

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#annie writes #kinktober ‘23 #neil lewis x f!reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian murphy

452 notes · View notes

abbysimsfun · 1 month ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 60 (Malcolm Landgraab IS MARRIED!)

After a great weekend in the city with her family, Heather and Conrad crossed the San Myshuno Bridge to pick up Ash from the Landgraabs' penthouse Uptown.

Toddler Ash rushed to greet his mother when she walked through the door. "Mommy, mommy, come meet Mumma Miko!"

Heather did a double take, but it wasn't just her son's pronouncement that caught her off guard. The Nancy Landgraab stood before her in cottagecore, looking like someone trying to fit into Henford-on-Bagley despite her well-advertised dislike of small towns. "Nancy, is that...a nose ring?"

"It's just a magnet, but apparently this is the style these days. Malcolm's new wife had me try it out, but I think I look ridiculous."

This might've been the first thing she and Heather had ever agreed on. But Heather kept her mouth shut as Malcolm charged up the stairs from the pool deck below, finally catching up with his son.

Heather stared at him, and he looked sheepishly toward the second floor. "I got married... Three days ago."

Her jaw dropped. "I dropped off Ash two days ago. You didn't think I should know then my son has a new stepmom?"

"You know now, Heather. I just told you our son has a stepmom! It took you months to tell me about Conrad!"

She rolled her eyes, trying not to let her frustration show in front of Ash, but they were interrupted when Malcolm's new wife walked down the stairs.

She was thin, beautiful, and her edgy purple hair framed her face perfectly. She offered an earnest smile. "Hi, I'm Miko," she said. "I know I must come as a shock, but I've had the best few days getting to hang out with Ash and I'm so thrilled to finally meet. I've heard so much about you!"

"How long have you and Malcolm even known each other?"

"A week!" she said cheerily. "When you know, you just know. You know?"

She didn't. Heather had never fallen so quickly for anyone. If she did, she probably wouldn't even trust it. "Where did you meet?"

"She was performing at a festival across town. I was there undercover so no one would think I was there for Simlandia National, and I was mesmerized," Malcolm said. "We spent every day together after that and by the middle of the week I knew if I didn't marry her, I'd regret it." He gazed lovingly at his new wife.

"Your mother must be thrilled," said Heather with a cynical laugh.

"I am," said Nancy, turning back to the bachelor reality program she'd been watching. "She's making a name for herself here, but she's already a star in her hometown of Mount Komorebi. It's good for the Landgraabs to associate with popular entertainers. Paparrazzi love it and we love good press."

(She watched this autonomously and I mean...! Nancy 😂)

Heather disliked the Landgraabs far too much to be offended that Nancy hated her career as a vet but welcomed a starving artist into her luxury home. She turned to her ex. "If you can't understand why I'm upset you didn't tell me sooner, I can't help you, Malcolm."

She stormed up the stairs to the landing and watched the world pass by below. Something about the view from Malcolm's penthouse always calmed her. She could hear Malcolm complaining downstairs in his open-plan suite. "She's so uptight! And when does she ever tell me anything? She didn't even tell me about Ash's accident until the next day."

"All of us have been a bit edge since the accident," Conrad reasoned. "But you should have told her the day you went to the courthouse and got married. And not like it really matters, but I've known your son for years and no one has him calling me Papa Conrad."

"She hates me and I don't even deserve half of it! Who needs to waste half their elopement arguing with their ex over text?"

Heather rolled her eyes as cars sped by on the Simmerloop a thousand feet below. "Everything looks so small this high up," said Miko, her reflection appearing behind Heather in the long windows. But Ash followed them, so Heather quickly stuffed her frustration.

"It makes me feel like I could pick up the whole city and put it in my pocket," she mused.

"I get what you mean. From up here, the chaotic world isn't so chaotic after all."

Heather smiled at her. "It's not that I don't want Ash to have a stepmom. And it's nothing against you personally."

Miko nodded. "It's that, as his mother, you should have met me before we got married and I moved in. I get it, and I'm sorry. I was recording across town when you dropped him off on Friday and Malcolm said it would be fine. But I knew better and I should have said something."

Heather's shoulders relaxed. "I can't imagine you've had many opportunities to speak your mind this week with the Landgraabs."

Miko smiled. "I'm still finding my voice. Have you had First Breakfast yet, or should I make Second?"

Heather laughed. "I see Geoffrey's gotten to you already."

Miko was a good-hearted geek after Heather's own heart. By the end of the eventful morning, Heather and Miko were closer friends than Miko and Malcolm. As she rode the glass elevator to the ground floor with Ash and Conrad, Heather sighed with relief. "I actually feel better about sending him to the Landgraabs now that Miko's there," she said.

Heather hoped Miko’s inherent goodness would never waver despite the overbearing influence of the Landgraabs, so she might always have an ally when it came to Nancy’s desires for her son. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Evil snob Malcolm Landgraab with good, geeky Miko Ojo? Yes I mashed them together after they met while Miko was busking (I sent him out to find a wife because I was getting impatient that he wasn't finding anyone on his own, and Miko was chilling in NPC land). Once they met and I knew they were attracted to each other, I built up their relationship and moved her in/married her immediately. Even if their good/evil traits eventually kill this thing, I liked it for the drama.

But this Malcolm aged up to YA with the Music Lover trait so they actually have decent compatibility, and those romance bars in one of the screenshots above are legit! I'm running a not-so-secret side-challenge trying to flip Malcolm's evil trait to good, and I'm hoping Miko will help this along. It's too easy if Malcolm's just the evil bio-dad; I always wanted to make him and their whole split family dynamic more complex.

56 notes · View notes

cloverthebarbearian · 11 months ago

Text

Do You Think Of Me...?

Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words

A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)

"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"

It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.

"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."

Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.

Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"

Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.

"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."

Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.

"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"

The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.

"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."

"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"

Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."

Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"

"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.

"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.

"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.

"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"

Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."

Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."

Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."

The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.

"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.

"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"

Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"

Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"

Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.

"What… what do you mean?"

Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.

"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.

"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.

Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.

"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."

Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.

"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."

"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.

"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"

Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.

Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...

The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.

He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.

The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.

"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.

Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"

Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"

Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.

"You don't pay me."

Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.

"I know."

Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.

"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.

"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"

"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.

They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.

"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.

"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.

"C-Clover, what are you-"

"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.

"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"

Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.

"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.

"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.

There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.

"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.

"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"

He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.

"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.

"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.

"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"

Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.

Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.

"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.

The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.

Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.

Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.

Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.

"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"

Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.

"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.

"My… what?"

"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.

Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.

"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."

Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.

"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.

Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"

Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.

Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.

He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.

Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.

He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.

"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."

He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.

They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.

Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"

They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.

"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.

Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.

He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.

Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.

Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.

Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.

"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"

Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.

"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.

Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.

"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.

"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.

"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.

"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.

"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.

Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.

Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.

They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.

They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.

"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.

"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"

"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.

Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"

Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.

"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."

Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.

The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.

He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.

That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.

"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.

"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.

"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.

"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.

Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.

"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.

They both froze, Rolan held his breath.

"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.

Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.

"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.

"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"

"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."

"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.

"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.

"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."

Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.

"I'll be waiting."

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #I am holding a delicious beautifully frosted cake with 12 bags under my eyes bloodshot & weary please accept this humble gift I made

179 notes · View notes

nipuni · 8 months ago

Text

Doctor Who report!! We are all caught up with NuWho and in time to watch the new season when it comes out!! mission accomplished, It took us around 6 months total and we loved every minute of it 🥰

Now that we have watched all eras I can share our tastes and opinions nobody asked for under the cut 😌

We can confidently say RTD's era is our favourite and for Doctors 10 (and 14) followed by 12, but honestly there isn't a single Doctor (or Master!) that we didn't love.

We've also started rewatching the first four seasons now with more context and there is just something so special about them. They almost feel like a different show from all the later ones. The silliness and the way the story doesn't take itself seriously at all until all of a sudden it does and then the pain hits you twice as hard because of it. How with just with a line or deed and it's implications the Doctor can be so unbelievably inspiring. The way the narrative seems to place you in the role of a companion trying to catch up with the Doctor and figure him out yet never quite managing to do so creates this distance but also admiration and reverence in you too and you can't help but adore him flaws and all. It has just the right amount of room for every side character and relationship to develop and feel human and the right amount of exposition to keep the pace quick and don't hold your hand. The glimpses behind the doctor's cheerful childish façade into an unsettling calculating alienness and immeasurable trauma but also a weary wisdom. The complete selflessness to the point of martyrdom. The reckless irresponsible acts of devotion from both the companions and the Doctor. The near apotheosis of the companions the closer they get to him. The contagious feeling of awe and wonder and hope for life. The way it's so unabashedly centered around love of every kind 😭 ARGHH I don't know man there is nothing like it!! Ultimate comfort show for us, just.. healing really. There is so much more I can say and gush about but I'd be here typing all day so I'll draw more about it instead!! We would also like to get started on classic Who soon! and try to get our hands on the audio episodes and comic books and all the extra stuff as well 😊

We also watched more David Tennant works since the last report!

Blackpool was hilarious, infuriating and horny, the singing was a choice but overall so fun!! The Escape Artist was great, very sad and tense, would have loved for it to be longer, these miniseries are always so good but so short!! Mad to be Normal is so underrated? we enjoyed it a lot!! RD Laing's portrayal was so compelling, it's beautifully shot and the 60's setting is really immersive and well done. Einstein and Eddington was also really good, incredibly accurate historical setting!! the costuming was fantastic, one of the best I've seen!! These last two films are biographical and sort of no plot just vibes so maybe this is why they are not everyone's cup of tea but we enjoyed them very much. David just never misses, I'm sure we can watch anything with him in it and we will love it no matter what lmao what a guy 😭

Anyway that's all for now! I hope you are all doing well, spring/autumn is almost here! best bits of the year 😊

#DW report #doctor who #personal #nips blogs

104 notes · View notes

prettypinkporkchop · 7 days ago

Note

What about Quil and his imprint having their first huge argument? Like staying at different houses, not speaking argument!

Loved the last one!!

Xoxo

You slam your empty wallet down and sigh. You grab your phone and call Quil.

"Hey! This is Quil! Leave a heartfelt message because I'm hotter than Jake."

You roll your eyes and put your phone down on the counter. You are angry! You told Quil not to take the cash you pulled out. Yes, it's both of your money, but he's been spending it on crap. You two are trying to save for a new house, and for a new car. But today, you have a doctor's appointment. (If you see a doctor for any reason, use that.) You took out cash for it, and now, it's gone.

You phone who you believe Quil would be with, because no, he's not patrolling today.

"Wassuhhh?" Jacob yells.

"Where's Quil?" You ask.

"We are currently at the casino." Jacob laughs.

----

Quil opens the bedroom door and plops on the bed beside you. You feel the bouncing but you refuse to turn and look at him.

"Baby.." He drags out and touches your waist.

You can't help it. You start to get emotional. Does nothing you two dream of mean anything to him? The house, car, kids? You sniffle quietly.

"Baby?" He grabs your side and pulls you down so you're on your back.

A tear slips down the side of your eye and to your temple. "I'm just so mad. I'm so mad I'm crying." You whisper.

He cocks his head in confusion. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"You!" You sit up and push him back.

He looks at you in shock. "The fuck did I do?!" He yells.

His yelling and attitude made you even more angry. But the fact that he's playing dumb is making you feral. He knows. This will be the third confrontation.

You scream in aggravation and then walk out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

He's quick to follow you. "If it's the money again, I'm going to be very pissed off." He says.

"Quil! You promised me our dream life. Fuck, dude! This house is falling apart. Your truck breaks down when it goes to 60. My car is almost 20 years old!" You scream and then bend down to put on your shoes.

Quil grabs your wrist. "What we have is fine! I told you we'd get there eventually!" He let's you go. "Baby, I'm keeping my promises!" He screams back, pointing at his chest.

You start to cry even harder. "You took the money I told you not to. Remember why?" You cross your arms and stare at him.

He thinks for a second, but then his eyes widen. "Shit." He mutters.

You laugh and uncross your arms, nodding your head. "Yeah. Shit. I'm leaving." You put on your shoes.

Quil stands there watching you, ashamed of himself.

"But remember, Ateara." You grab the keys off the wall, "it's not just about today. It's the shit you promised me, you spending money behind my back." You continue.

He sighs and then takes a step forward. "Yeah, and you promised me fun in our relationship. Look at you, constantly worried about money. Working extra hours just to stay away from me. If you're home, you sit on your phone."

You nod your head. "I guess we'll be better off without each other then."

"What? You're breaking up with me?!" He yells.

"No. We need space."

----

Your eyes shoot up for the fifteenth time this night. You look around the guest room in Emily's house. It's cold and lonely. You roll over and check your phone. Still nothing. You sigh and drop your phone on the bed. It bounces and hits the floor.

"Shit." You hiss.

It's a small house. Not only that, but you're here with an alpha. He's always on guard. You know a whisper could catch his attention. As you expected, a few knocks.

"Come in." You say.

It slowly creaks open, and the hallway light shines through. You see Sam peaking in, hiding behind the door.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, not entering the room.

You chuckle and sigh. "Yeah, everything is good. I just dropped my phone." You reply and then sit up.

"Oh, okay. Do you need anything? Hot tea?" He fully opens the door.

You stand up and stretch, giving up on sleep. "I'll go make me something. You can go back to bed." You smile and yawn.

"I never take orders." He chuckles. "Besides, you seem like you need someone to talk to. I know Quil like the back of my hand." He backs away from the door to let you out of the room.

You smile, shaking your head and walking past him and into the kitchen. You go through the cabinet where Emily puts her teas and drink mixes.

Sam grunts, sitting down on a chair at the table. "So, what happened?" He asks.

"Well, your wonderful wolf doesn't know how to grow up." You reply, making the drink you chose.

"Mm. None of us really do." He starts chuckling.

"Yeah. But there's a difference in being childlike and being stupid. Quil is stupid. Paul doesn't do the things Quil does! Neither does Jared. You, even!" You finish making your drink and sit at the table.

"That's true. But there are things that Quil does that you love that we don't do." Sam smirks.

He's right. Quil knows how to pull your hair up in a ponytail or bun when you're sick. He makes you laugh the most. He let's you do small things that you notice Rachel nor Kim do with their guys. That's because Quil lets you. Quil loves you.

"Did I open a new perspective?" Sam asks, knocking you out of your thoughts.

"Yes, actually." You sigh.

"Well, then, how about you go talk to him?"

"No." You deadpan. "He needs to realize how dumb he has been. It's what got us here now." You sip your drink.

Sam nods and then smiles. "He says the same thing."

You cough and look up at him in shock. "What shit has he been talking?" You wipe your mouth with your hand.

"More like his thoughts from last night during patrol. He says you're in the wrong and is trying to prove a point." Sam stops, looking away and then back at you. "But he won't shut up about how bad he loves you and wants you back."

-----

Everyone is having a picnic in the forest besides you. You are off at work, doing your own thing.

Sam thumps Quil on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Quil faces Sam. "What the hell?"

"I'm tired of hearing your head. Just so you know, I've heard both sides. You are the one who needs to do the talking first." Sam points a finger in his face.

"Now, now. It's between them." Emily says, patting his wrist.

"It affects all of us." Embry butt's in.

Quil groans and falls backward, his head landing on Rachel's sandwhich.

"Damn it, kid!" She hisses.

"Yeah, just like that!" Paul points, nodding his head in agreement to Embry.

----

You close the washing machine in your house to wash your clothes and pack some more. You're trying to move as fast as you can just in case Quil comes back. You have no clue where he is. You sit on your bed, waiting for the laundry to finish. You miss your bed. It's so comfortable.

After a while, you're finished with the laundry, so you head back to Emily's. You feel bad and feel like an inconvenience to her and Sam. But you've been doing chores and helping Emily a lot the last four days.

You put your bag on the bed and sigh. You sit on the bed and look down at the ground. You can't stop thinking of everything.

The door opens, and you look up just to make eye contact with your boyfriend.

"What?" You hiss.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

"Sure. Have you cooled down?" You move your bag to the floor, giving him room to sit.

He sighs and walks in, plopping beside you. "I have."

You lean your head over on his shoulder. This warmth has been gone for too long. You breathe in his scent and he wraps his fingers in yours.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I really am. I can explain everything to you." He says.

"Get to talking." You mumble, staying in your spot.

"I have been saving money. I didn't want to tell you this because I wanted it to be a surprise. But you're always so cranky with me and seem uninterested that it pushes me away. I even began to question if I should keep the surprise." He sighs.

You look up at him with confusion on your face. "What do you mean? You've spent everything on stupid shit. How could I not get upset with you?" You blink.

"Babe, I got a raise at work. Me, Jake, Embry, and Seth have been building our dream home. It'll be done soon. I've been spending some money on some things for you in our house. Like, bathroom organizers, decor." Every word he spills makes you feel even guiltier. "I didn't want to tell you because when the house is finished and we can move in, it'd be your birthday." He continues.

You start shedding a few tears. "Now I feel like a total asshole." You sniffle and look away from him.

"No, don't. I was acting really stupid. And that money I took from your wallet, I was at the casino. I had forgotten about your appointment and I'm so sorry about that." He takes your chin and makes you look at him. "Baby, can you forgive me?" He asks.

You wipe your face and nose and then giggle, "I guess."

He grabs your things, carrying them to his truck. You get inside, and he begins to drive. He's driving near the beach. Your heart is pounding!

He goes through this small trail in the woods. It looks like they've been working on clearing this land. Off in the distance, you see the exact outside of the house that you've been dreaming about. You gasp and cover your mouth.

"Quil!" You gush.

He chuckles and parks the truck. "You like?"

You turn to him with wide eyes. "Like?! I love it!" You scream and then wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

He closes his eyes, missing your touch and scent. His hand touches your lower back, holding onto you.

You get an amazing idea! You pull away from him and look into his eyes with a smirk. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" You giggle.

He breathes out and blushes. "Maybe. I think." He chuckles.

"Let's fuck inside our new home."

He's quick to move the console up and push you against the door. His lips attach themselves on yours. He's hungry for you, and you are for him. You nibble on his bottom lip before you both glide your tongues against each other's. Your fingers make their way to his dark curls, and you pull on them. You start to notice his hard against your inner thigh.

"Come on." You mumble in the kiss.

- AFTER THAT (SORRY) -

You lay on the cold floor that is soon to be the living room. You're out of breath and underneath Quil's arm. He's on his back like you, but he turns on his side to face you, keeping his arm under your head. You giggle and then cover your red and sweating face.

"You came hard, babe." He chuckles and presses kisses along your jaw.

"Phew. Yeah. Yeah, I did." You breathe out. You grab your phone that's on your clothes next to you. "Holy shit. We went for two hours."

He laughs and then touches your cheek, pulling your face to his. "That's how I work." He says lowly before kissing you.

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #quil ateara #quil ateara x reader

20 notes · View notes

satureja13 · 27 days ago

Text

Next day, the Boys and Rubyn were busy until noon, but then - finally - the setup was complete. Including a brand new high range parabolic antenna, sitting on top of the highest tower of Mos Verdantis. Rubyn started the scan, this would take a few hours. They have no idea where Tiny Can might have fled to, so all worlds needed to be scanned. But after that, they will have a crystal clear signal of the little piece of junk. Sai can't wait to dismantle him and stomp his filthy circuit board into the ground...

The Boys thought they could help Rubyn around her workshop and house in the meantime, to keep the costs low. And Jack told Sai he and Kiyoshi would make a short trip to the Magical Realm to catch a fish for the Grim Reaper. Since Future Jeb's weird message, Sai is always worried to separate them: "Alone? What about helping us here? And how will you get there anyway?" Jack: "Don't worry, Kiyoshi is still Kojin's demon, he will take me there. I really think we should do these favours for Grim. I'd like to rely on his help should you really kill me ^^'" Sai: "You heard that, huh?"

Jack: "I'm a werewolf, I can hear everything, Mr. 'I want you so bad, Jeb' hahaha!" Sai: "RUN!" Jack: "Now, Kiyoshi!"

Sai yelled after him that he's gonna be the one who will hang in that net instead of that poor droid! But Jack just laughed. Sai will have already forgotten about it when they come back.

And then they were gone. How embarrassing. Sai had no idea what had come over him last night. Even though he knew his friends were in the tents next to them, he wasn't able to stop throwing himself in Jeb's muscular arms... Saying stupid things.

Kiyoshi and Jack landed just in view of the tree where Kiyoshi had spend 6 decades. Reflecting - and longing for Jack. Jack thought that might be a bit much for him: "Will you be ok?" Kiyoshi: "I will. In hindsight it brought us back together again. That wouldn't have worked out if we hadn't both grown, hm?" Jack hummed his agreement and they angled in silence.

They finished their quests quickly and returned back to the others to help them. But time passes faster in the Magical Realm. And just as only a few months had passed in the mundane worlds while Kiyoshi sat 60 years under/inside that tree, already a few hours had passed in Oasis Springs until Jack and Kiyoshi returned with their new rewards.

Just in time for dinner! Perfect!

And just when they were finished doing the dishes and cleaned up, the signal came in! Rubyn looked at the interactive map. An uneasy frown on her face. Sai: "What? Is it far?" Rubyn: "Eh, no. In fact just the contrary. The last signal from Tiny Can comes from here - Oasis Springs..." Sai already turned around to head for the exit: "But that's good, isn't it? Let's go!"

Rubyn stopped him: "Wait! It would have been good if it weren't that place. One does not simply go there." Sai: "What's wrong with... eh - that place?" Rubyn buried her face in her hands and sighed: "A few years ago, I was still unexperienced in servo constuction, I happened to create a - uhm... monster. RoDri6ue2-B was striving for world domination and tried to bring his minions among my neighbors. I stopped him and send him to the Moisture Farm nearby, as a punishment. I thought the hard work would, kind of, purify him. But he's still up to no good. The last signal from Tiny Can comes from this farm, and it's old." Sai: "Argh, we wasted too much time! I knew it!" Rubyn: "No, much older. We're talking months. It must have been sent shortly after you left home and went beyond the Veil to study. There is no newer signal of Tiny Can across all the worlds - and I'm not sure what that means. Did RoDri6ue2-B destroy Tiny Can already? Or did he supress his signals and made him his servant? Anyhow, we can't just walk over and ask about Tiny Can's whereabouts. And RoDri6ue2-B shouldn't see any of you either. He might take you prisioners and sell you to the Council, or worse!"

It took Sai and the others a while to comprehend - and they still wondered what exactly happened after they left broken Tiny Can. Sai: "That's so weird. How had he been able to repair himself and steal that money in such a short amount of time?!" Rubyn: "I have no idea. But I will sneak over there tonight and find out. Alone."

'Well, if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand I've seen your face before, my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am Well, I was there and I saw what you did, I saw it with my own two eyes So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've been It's all been a pack of lies'

In the Air tonight - Phil Collins

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

35 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago

Note

🦐 to recognize my post

Am I the asshole for asking my grandmother if I can move in with her?

This’ll be one of your classic reddit-style family dramas, I think. Back in late 2019 just before COVID, I (freshly 18 at the time) had run away from home with my mom and moved in with my best friend (R, 17 in 2019) and her (60s, deeply depressed) dad. Her dad and I were on good terms for a long time, but respectfully, he has a tendency to repress any issues he has with someone until they build into a bigger issue. Near toward November of 2020, he kicked me out on account of ‘not keeping a job and not doing anything around the house’ (I washed stagnant dishes often, took care of their several animals, and took out trash whenever I could, R and I think he was projecting his shitty roommates from when he was 20 onto me), so I needed a new place to move.

My own beloved father lives ten hours away, and offered for me to live with him. For months, I was preparing to pick up my entire life from the hometown I had lived in since I was 2 years old to move to a new state, and in the last month, I got cold feet and said I couldn’t make such a large change like that. My dad completely understood, and I went to look for a new place to stay, still living with R and her dad at this time.

During this period, I was getting closer with my grandmother on my mom’s side again. She was one of the few family members I felt comfortable with, and we often went to Panera for lunch dates to catch up on things. I won’t go super deep into why I’m so anxious about the rest of the family, because that would require an entire several page google document to explain (especially now that we’re actively banned from holidays).

It was around this time I asked my grandmother if I could move into one of her five or six spare rooms upstairs. My grandfather had died in the last couple of months, and I was confident that if she needed any help (she’s in her mid eighties) moving things upstairs or cleaning the house, I would be beyond glad to do it for her. She then hesitated and said it may be a better idea for me to move in with my dad after all (which was odd, because she hates my dad’s guts, as does the rest of my family), and I let it go after that. I didn’t push, I would just need to find a new place.

Well, word got around, and she told my aunts and older cousins in passing. I don’t remember if I got sent anything in specific, but one of my aunts (mother’s older sister who I'm genuinely terrified of) absolutely fucking exploded on my (54 at the time) mom, giving her a several paragraph long shitstorm of a message saying she was a terrible mother for letting me take advantage of my grandmother, calling her horrible things, slurs, and insulting her wife, and it got back to me somehow. I was fucking shredded apart emotionally.

Since then, I have moved back in with my mother out of necessity and we have totally reconciled our relationship in the three or so years I’ve been home, and my entire mother’s side of the family- aside from my grandmother- has completely cut contact and don’t invite us to holidays anymore, for significantly more ridiculous reasons than me asking my grandmother what I did.

My mother’s side of the family ostracized her, myself, and my sister since my mother first married my dad 25ish years ago, and has just never treated her the same since, which explains some of the hostility (I want to specify, I’m confident that my mother did nothing outright wrong for this, my family is extremely far-right and EXTREMELY judgemental, and my mom bore unnecessary vitrol for everything she went through), but I need to know if I was actually the asshole for asking to move in with my grandmother, who even now still cares about me as family and lives alone. I could give less of a shit what my aunt thinks now (she lives an entire day’s drive away, in a different state as well), but I can’t help but shake the fear that I was actually taking advantage of her kindness or something of the sort. Was this a wrong thing to ask? Was this actually too much, and should I not have bothered?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

131 notes · View notes

tom-hunter-summah · 2 months ago

Text

Born in the Wrong Era pt. 3

a/n: it's finally here! sorry it took so long and thank you to @iluveveryone for sending your ask. i hope all y'all enjoy it!

edit: I linked pt. 2 because I forgot to last night.

warnings: shouting/screaming, flirty best friends, mentions of death/trauma, mentions of mr. martin, hitting (not a person but inanimate object(s))

word count: 2k

pt. 2

Reader’s POV

A frustrated noise leaves your mouth. You really wish you hadn't let Wally get into your head about Bea. You knew he had a point but could Bea have really been that different? Insistent, maybe but not stubborn. And it was always for the other person's good because she knew their potential. Bea was the only person in your life that actually listened to you. But this was her son. He knew her first. And in some weird way you knew Wally. You knew that he loves Bea with everything he has and then some.

"Damn it. Hey Siri?"

Siri Dings.

"How do you apologize to a ghost?"

Tuesday-Wally’s POV

“Can we change? Or do we simply live in the heart of the mulberry bush destined to return where we once started?”

As Mr. Martin started on whatever pseudo-sophical rant he was going on Wally perked up. The dead have no choice to change do they? Wally remember’s Charley going on about this movie with Cybill Shepherd and Robert Downey Jr and how her dead husband was able to cross over after living as him. Wally knows he’s missing some details but that’s besides the point. Almost every ghost movie ever made has some plot-point that the dead have to cross over and they have to grow and all that other shit before they can cross over and start their afterlife.

Wally had been here for 40 years. That’s forty years longer than he ever wanted to be in high school. But how is he to change?

“Wally? Is there something you would like to share?”

“Huh?”

Wally didn’t even pay attention to the last five minutes of whatever Mr. Martin was spewing this morning. Now there are many pairs of expectant eyes on him.

“We’re debating whether or not people can change. Dead or Alive. I’d like to hear your thoughts Wally.”

Wally goes to open his mouth but his8 voice isn’t the one that’s heard.

“He’d have to have a brain for that.” Oh Rhonda, always quick with a jab to the ego.

“Well you should start with getting a new heart, Rhonda, because the one you have now is cold and shriveled.”

Rhonda breaks out one of her sarcastic grins. “Finally someone sees me.”

There are a couple of chuckles from the circle before Mr. Martin clears his throat.

“Wally, please continue”

Wally gets one more taunt in by squinting at Rhonda before he starts talking.

“I think when you die, you break the circle around the mudberry bush as you put it–

Wally catches Charley mouthing something out the corner of his eye but can’t make out what it was.

“And can give you the room you need to change.”

There are a couple of murmurs of agreement around the circle which made Wall feel proud of himself.

“That’s interesting Wally. But before we break the circle; why don’t we move to the center of it?”

This made Wally think. “Maybe. Thanks Mr. M.”

Mr. Martin gives Wally a tight-lipped smile that never seems to bring comfort to Wally but what’s new.

Soon the morning circle is dismissed but Wally lingers for a minute after everyone else left. Or so he thought.

“Hey Wally?”

It was Janet. Even after 40 years Wally still wasn’t used to her 60’s fashion. Her light pink gingham dress with matching ballet flats and white gloves on her hands. Compared to the others in the group it was a silent rebellion that was all Janet’s. Which is pretty rad if you ask Wally.

“Hey Janet what’s up?”

“I was wondering; what was on your mind earlier? You don’t really space out like that.”

Wally hesitated. “Uhh.. I was tired from… working out earlier.” Wally barely believed himself.

Janet’s furrowed brows had him coming up with another lie in seconds. Before he could though; Mr8. Martin called Janet away.

Before Janet left the gym she turned and waved goodbye. “We’ll talk later Wally!”

Wally returns the wave and once Janet and Mr. Martin are out of sight, Wally lets out a sigh of relief.

“Hey Wally you okay?”

It was Charley this time, luckily Wally is able to keep his shock to a minimum.

“Yeah, it’s just sometimes the morning circle makes me want to…”

Charley interjects. “Die all over again?”

Wally snaps his fingers and points. “Yeah! I mean I know he just wants to help but Jeez sometimes it’s agonizing.”

Charley laughs. “Well, Hippie dude has a sub and they’re watching a movie. Wanna come?”

Wally pretends to think about it. “Is it Rudy?”

Charley sighs in defeat. “I don’t know what movie it is but I’m almost 100% sure an AP Lit Class will not watch “Rudy”.”

“Where is there “enjambment” in “Finding Nemo”, Charley?”

“Where is the ‘allusion’ in ‘Rudy’, Wally?”

“What are you talking about, all Rudy does is dream!”

Charley pinches the bridge of his nose. “Allusion not ILLusion!”

“You’re literally saying the same word.”

“I- you know what? Sure. Anyway if you get tired of working out you know where I’ll be.”

Charley walks off, leaving Wally alone with his thoughts. He needs to find some answers. And there’s only one person who can give him that.

Reader’s POV

There’s a sense of comfort you feel when “Bad Reputation” flows through your ears. You wish you were more like her. Letting things roll off your back and not listening to what others say. You feel for Wally, you do. You’re not going to agree with your parents about everything but to insinuate that they don’t care? Ridiculous. Wally’s feelings are still valid though. Eye twitch inducing but valid nonetheless. You don’t know how to summon him (and you’re not sure you want to know?) but when you see him you’ll apologize for being impudent. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when “Fat Bottomed Girls” starts to play and your eyes widen. It’s not Queen that shocks you so much as this may 8be a clue as to what his type is. Not that it matters. Not that you care.

The next thing you know there’s a giant pair of hands waving in your face, luckily they’re attached to your good friend Jacques. You take off your headphones so you can hear him.

“Hey Jaques.”

“Hey dorkalicious!” You chuckle. “Where were you yesterday?”

“Just getting tickets to Horror Con.”

You stop in your tracks. “You’re joking.”

Jacque fights a smile as he shakes his head. “Waited in line all day for these. I can’t wait to go next week.”

“Wait tickets? As in, plural?”

“I’m pretty sure “tickets” means more than one ticket.”

You have to jump a little bit to properly hug him because he’s so damn tall but you can’t contain your happiness.

While horror isn’t your biggest interest you’re utterly obsessed with the cinematography of it all. Plus dressing up has always been a favorite pastime.

“Merci mon cher ami!”

Jacques blushes. “Alright, alright get down before you start licking my face dork. And stop speaking to me in french, it shifts my beret.”

You laugh as you pull away from him. “Oh shut up you’re like a quarter french.”

“My name makes it half.”

Before you can continue to call him on his bullshit, the bell for class rings and you have to go to third period which is Mr. Anderson’s class.

“Oh Jacq, do we have a sub in Anderson’s class?”

“How’d you know?”

“ I didn’t. I was hoping for it though. I had a weird interaction with Anderson outside of class.”

“Is it because you guys argued about which decade was best again?”

“It’s not my fault we had better movies! Plus peak television. I’m still looking for who shot JR. And there was history made when Alexis called Krystle a bitch. The first time it was ever said on primetime TV.”

Jacques sighs, filled with regret. “Why did I even ask? Look for whatever happened, I’m glad you can avoid addressing it for another 24 hours. Just like I will do to you if you don’t shut up.”

“Like you could go that long without talking to your personal musipedia.”

“They have this thing called shazam.”

“Yeah but I’m cuter.”

Jacques ruffles pats your head. “Yes you are. Now go make me proud okay?” You smile at him “C+ it is.”

Jacques dabs fake tears from his eyes. “I’ve never been more proud.”

“Do I want to know?” It’s Ms. Fields. You and Jacques' favorite teacher.

You answer. “It’s best if you don’t.”

She nods her head. “Good to know. C’mon Jacques, today we’re going over the war of 1812.”

“So nap time?”

You slightly shove him into the class which makes Ms. Fields chuckle.

“Be good.”

“Bite me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry about him. I’ll catch you later Ms. Fields.”

“I’ll see you in class, hon.”

You nod and keep making your way to class. You decide to switch out Wally’s tape with your own. You love Wally’s taste but the music definitely got better later in the decade. Which is why when you hear “Raspberry Beret” You smile.

You walk into mr. Anderson's class still smiling, causing everyone to look at you. Including the dead.

You quickly make your way to your seat. You wait a couple of moments and are shocked when you don’t see Wally at your desk. You turn your head and your brows can’t help but furrow when you don’t see him.

You’re slightly disappointed but you figure he’ll come around when he’s ready.

Wally’s POV

They still make walkmans? No, they still have cassette tapes? Wally only half circles Retro as to not draw attention. He sees the walkman hanging on the waist of their jeans, and gently pulls it up. As he inspects the walkman he can tell it looks a little worn; like they bought it from a secondhand store.

Then he sees It. “W.Clark” written in black sharpie.

He drops the walkman but catches it last minute, so as not to break it. There’s too much going on in Wally’s brain to process what any of this means.

Wally takes the walkman and storms out of the classroom. He puts the headphones on his head only to hear “Never Gonna Give You Up” which is the icing on the cake to his frustration.

He knows you and Bea are close but that close? Wally knows it’s been 40 years but it still feels like yesterday. That tackle. It was so fast Wally barely felt the weight of the Behemoth that ended his life. It doesn’t mean it stung any less. His moms last words to him.

“Make me proud”

It comes flooding back at the memory. That anger, the exhaustion and defeat.

Letting these emotions consume him, with a scream Wally’s fist connects with a locker. And again. And again. He eventually has enough and has his forearms resting on the lockers while he catches his breath. Somehow, while his head is hanging low, his headphones catch his ear just in time to hear the beginning of “Deacon Blues”.

He chuckles. “The kid’s got taste.”

“Of course I do. And who are you calling Kid?”

Wally’s head turns in Retro’s direction. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I had to take a leak. The bigger question is, how the hell are you able to listen to my music?”

“I can interact with the physical world but I don’t make an impact on it. So I can listen to your surprisingly good mixtape but I can’t skip a song I don’t like.”

Retro’s eyebrows furrow. “That doesn’t make sense. I mean have you tried with the walkman? It is yours afterall.”

Wally shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t think it’s going to make a diff–

Wally is cut off by his own shock as deacon blues cuts to September.

“See I told you.”

If Wally could pass out he would.

“Walls, you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I knew it. You’re the answer.”

“To what?”

“You’re going to help me cross over.”

#born in the wrong era #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark x gender neutral reader #milo manheim #school spirits

22 notes · View notes

gaykarstaagforever · 11 months ago

Text

I said I was going to read it, and I read it.

And now I know why no one else has in 55 years.

Spoiler Alert: he doesn't actually electrocute Clark, and was never going to. Utter bullshit.

The only cool things about this old guy are 1) his name is Homer Ferret, and 2) he looks like George Burns.

What is uncool about this guy is that he is an optometrist who has been stalking Clark Kent since he was a baby, for reasons he never goes into.

Like, he is just at the Kent's house when Baby Clark does his first heroic thing (pushing a runaway train car off the tracks). He is also suspiciously at the high school when it catches on fire, to see Clark jump into a bush from which Superboy then emerges to blow the fire out.

Did Homer start the fire? If not, why the hell was he hanging out at the high school? We never get answers to these and many other questions.

My favorite part is where he guesses (correctly) that Clark is Superman, based on his glasses. But not in the sane way of noticing that Clark Kent looks exactly like Superman if Superman wore glasses. Remember, no one in the DC Universe can apparently do that. Instead, as the only optometrist in Smallville, he knows Clark Kent never bought glasses from him. Once he has Clark strapped to the chair, he looks at Clark's glasses and realizes the lenses are just fake plastic ones (this was back when glasses actually contained glass).

Clark, as usual, just fucking lies and says he wears fake glasses because he is a giant coward and figured glasses would make kids bully him less. Because that is how that works.

Homer doesn't buy it, either, and so demands Clark admit he is Superman or get juiced. At the last second Clark FINALLY decides to use his X-Ray vision to look through the floor, where he sees that the generator attached to the chair is a low voltage one. Homer throws the switch and it tickles Clark with like 2 volts.

Then Homer admits he wasn't 100% on Clark being Superman after all, so wasn't going to risk killing him. Clark says "oh, you!", and decides to do a Daily Planet report on all the Superman artifacts this clearly dangerous obsessive has collected into a Superman shrine in his basement.

No one gets punched a single time.

The only good thing about this story is this random full page portrait of Clark Kent looking vaguely upset:

The other story in the issue is better, in that it is way, way dumber.

It starts off showing you how YOU TOO can draw Superman!

I feel there are a few steps missing here, but

Jimmy Olsen tells Clark how he is joining an art correspondence school, and Clark IMMEDIATELY decides it is a scam worthy of Superman's attention. And sure, it is definitely a scam being run by mobsters. But the second half of that is not remotely true.

Before he starts using X-Ray vision and perfect recall and telescopic vision and TIME TRAVEL (yes) to "solve" this crime of low-level mail fraud, he has to interview a kid who wants to be a cartoonist at the Daily Planet. Where he says this:

I think I get what he's supposed to be saying in this weird attempt at 60s Mod talk, but it took me awhile. You give it a go.

He also is a total dick about how much this child's comic strip sucks.

I mean it's no Silver Age Superman comic, but they can't all be, Clark. And let's be honest here, the bar is pretty low.

At some point in his "investigation" of this scam art school, Clark decides the best plan is for him to create forgeries of classical Western paintings. By this point he already has more than enough evidence to have these guys arrested, but he didn't get to do any pointless TIME TRAVEL yet (yes), so, priorities.

He flies back in time to study the painting techniques of the great masters. But he is bad at time travel (yes, literally), so he accidentally flies through the tail of Halley's Comet, which makes him 1) 16, and 2) blue.

Then this happens:

Let's unpack this.

1) Superman was the inspiration for Thomas Gainsborough's "Blue Boy," because he at this point is a boy, who is dressed in the mostly-blue Superman costume. ...But also because his skin is blue. You know. Unlike the boy in the painting.

2) Gainsborough uses Superboy as a model, in that he has him pose, holding a hat. But the boy in the painting is wearing a completely different outfit of rumpled velvet. So Gainsborough just did the complex outfit from his imagination, but he needed Superboy to show him what a boy holding a hat looks like? What bizarre level of "master artist" is this?

3) He doesn't paint the Blue Boy's skin, because Superboy has blue skin, and that would be too weird. And while he can obviously do imaginary clothes fine, he needs another model with normal-colored skin to do a face and a hand. ...Even though he only chose Superboy as a model in the first place, partly because he has blue skin, which makes him a 'Blue Boy,' which is what inspired the whole painting in the first place. ...Except he never intended to actually make the Blue Boy blue-skinned. So...

Adult men with families and mortgages wrote this.

After this, Superboy flies back through Halley's Comet's tail, restoring his age and color. Then he goes to visit Rembrandt, where Rembrandt ACTUALLY DRESSES HIM IN A PERIOD OUTFIT, to use him as a model for one of the figures in "The Night Watch". Because Superman is so muscular.

Because, as everyone thinks when they see that painting, "Man. That one guy in the hat is buff as shit." (?)

Notably, yet again, the painter doesn't paint Superman's face, this time because a officer of the REAL Night Guard paid to have his portrait put in the painting. But I guess that guy's body wasn't all swol and hot enough for Rembrandt's painting...of that specific guy.

"WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE TO DO WITH GETTING THE POLICE TO ARREST THE MOBSTERS RUNNING A SCAM ART SCHOOL??"

Good goddamn question.

Superman comes back to the present and creates perfect forgeries of the two paintings he was inexplicably involved in creating. When the mobsters try to sell them as the real paintings, Clark Kent shows up with the cops and points out how the forgeries aren't actually perfect, he made them slightly different to prove they were fakes.

And this somehow is a crime the mobsters get arrested for. Instead of Clark Kent, who very obviously painted the forgeries so that these guys could sell them. Like, that was their plan, that the heretofore whatever Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent is suddenly such an amazing artist that he can make near-perfect forgeries of great paintings. And Clark went along with it, until he stopped. And this finally proves their art school is a scam. Even though the building they are in literally has trashcans full of art submissions they have thrown out once they take the registration money out of the envelopes. And all the secretaries working for them know the whole plan and have been helping them do it.

I'm not inferring that. That is all specifically shown in the comic.

None of this was necessary. Absolutely none of it.

On the plus side, at the end, the Daily Planet hires that kid to do his monkey comic. But just the writing, because Clark still thinks his art sucks. Jesus Christ, Clark.

Here is an ad for a hobby model of what was at the time an 11 year old station wagon.

I'm not being sarcastic! That's what their ad copy says! That's how they sold this!

There is also a Letters to the Editor feature, which I didn't take a picture of, because they print everyone's full names and hometowns. Yes I know even those kids are probably dead now, but I'm not going to chance it.

At any rate, about half the letters are children telling DC's editors that these Superman stories are stupid and full of inconsistent nonsense. To which the DC editors reply by defensively snapping back at them.

So it's not just us, as adults, now.

They knew. Everyone knew.

#silver age comics #superman #dc comics #comic book

105 notes · View notes