#despite the song always being a part of him (because his memory is a blessing and a burden all the same)

[fullscoreshenanigans]

My stance on this varies depending on the AU, but I generally don't see him touching it again unprompted until his 20s at the earliest.

He wouldn't hum it for his siblings or any hypothetical future children of his own when they're young as a means of comfort, but if the topic of Isabella came up when they're older, he might do it to offer them some closure and perspective; a missing piece of their childhood fluttering on the edges of their memories:

(Chapter 37; after keeping the song to herself for so long, and the anger she felt toward Ray that she wasn't able to let go of for years for humming it and robbing her of the illusion she crafted for plant 3, she's able to embrace it transforming from a solitary song of strength and survival founded on suffering and sacrifice to one of strength through collective solidarity and familial love that Obata eventually came to use as the foundation for S1's soundtrack)

Despite his own painful and complicated feelings toward her, he would want them to have as much information as they could, so they could come to their own conclusions and reconcile their own individual feelings toward the woman who raised them.

Something of interest to me is how it seems like there’s a 50/50 divide on whether Ray would ever sing Isabella’s (/Leslie’s) lullaby after leaving Grace Field; enjoy seeing everyone’s different stances on it.

[merakiui]

I can't get Alien Jamil out of my head. He lives rent free now 😭

Alien Jamil who uses his ability to hypontise darling to spread their legs for them, maintaining eye contact to keep the spell. Darling being under his control as he filled darling up with eggs. Only looking away once he was done and Darling's stuffed to the brim <3

Then let's say Darling's a researcher for his species and is now being made to carry it for research purposes

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, breeding, oviposition, hypnosis, ntr/cucking)

:O !!!!!! Imagine being a researcher alongside Kalim... omg and Jamil watches day in and day out from his enclosure as Kalim attempts to get closer to you. Despite his outgoing and friendly personality, he's a little awkward with some of his flirting methods and so Jamil is able to pick up on Kalim's romantic interest in you fairly quickly. At first Jamil thought nothing would come of this, as you always seemed so absorbed in your research and you were always paying so much attention to him. Jamil is nice enough to act obedient and polite when you step into his enclosure to study him up close, feigning a harmless outward appearance. You're the only one who is allowed to do this; everyone else is frightened away or threatened with low hisses and sharp, piercing glares. Jamil has a soft spot for you, but he hides it with stoic indifference, choosing to look unbothered while you lean in close to admire his scales or the many snakes that make up his hair. You're so lucky he has an admirable amount of restraint, otherwise he would have plastered you to the ground and fucked you full of eggs months ago.

But it's when you actually start to entertain Kalim's interest that Jamil begins to worry. First the two of you would have dinner together (in front of Jamil, much to his annoyance) when you had to work late in the lab, and Kalim was just so irritatingly sweet to you. So genuinely himself. And you kept smiling and your body temperature was rising because you were flattered and happy and appreciative... Jamil refuses to lose you to that airheaded researcher. And then you'd work so closely together, side by side, shoulders nearly touching. Jamil is much too observant for his own good, which is both a blessing and a curse, because it only proves that you've warmed up to your fellow researcher.

It starts small. You can't understand Jamil unless he's hypnotized you, and then those fearsome hisses sound like the sweetest song, lulling you into a daze. For a while you seem more scattered than usual. There are gaps in your memory, and you're not sure why you always seem to come to in the lab. You could have sworn you were in your bed, sleeping so soundly until the whispers of something snake-like invaded your dreams... You're always led to Jamil. Maybe you really are so dedicated to your work that you're unconsciously drawn to it even when you're asleep. Kalim worries, insists you should rest more and that he can handle everything at the lab, but you don't want to push more work onto his plate. This is a team effort, after all.

It's like push and pull. Jamil holds you under for longer, slowly but surely snuffing your interest in Kalim, and releasing you from the spell of hypnosis before anyone can question it or grow suspicious. You're not going to love Kalim. You're going to love the specimen you look after. You're going to love Jamil. This is how it should have been, and this is how it will be.

Ultimately, it culminates in claiming. Jamil must stake it, must mold you to his form so that you'll only ever know him and no one else. The look in your eyes is empty and dazed, but you're smiling at him, entrapped in the coils of his tail, and it's a happy, drunken sort of smile. You're such a pretty human, so sweet for him when you open yourself without complaint or struggle, shedding that pesky clothing to reveal all of the curious parts to your anatomy he finds absolutely riveting. He fucks into your tight, slick warmth for hours, bodies pressed flush and never separating. Your moans fill the enclosure, adding to the sinful sounds of sex, and he falls for you all over again. You're truly so precious, so blissfully dumb and obedient when you're taking his cocks like the good researcher you are. Jamil can't resist; he has to fill you up, make this claim one you'll remember. And you can't object. You're not allowed to, not when he controls your every reaction. If he tells you to cum, you will. If he tells you to take just a few more eggs, you will.

And you'll like it because that's what you're told.

Only once you're filled to bursting, tummy packed full of his clutch, does Jamil gaze sidelong at Kalim, who looks on with concerned horror. Jamil tilts his head, acting as if he doesn't understand the smallest of human cues. He does, but Kalim doesn't need to know.

He smiles, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. You're Jamil's now. Forever and always. As you were meant to be. And no one shall come between you.

[zzeraphilm]

his hidden notebook (II)

akaashi keiji x f!reader part one summary: akaashi and y/n work together for her best performance yet. words: 2,440 Lyrics used are from Aurora by Daisy Jones and the Six

“Because they’re about you. All of them. I write them, whenever I see you sing, when you walk down the halls or when you daze off into space during English class. I catch images of you in my mind from moments where you’re always out of reach, where you bless others with your shining aura. Y/N, you’ve been my muse for all of my work.” 

If Akashi could erase his memory he would, one thousand times over he would, he wanted to stab himself with a thousand daggers to forget what he said to Y/N. Never has he ever felt this deep feeling of regret and embarrassment. He was a fool, nothing changed between him and Y/N, the day after his confession, Y/N greeted him with the tiniest of smiles that only insects could see. Akashi felt defeated, he could only put pen to paper again, he resented this hobby of his for this very reason. If it wasn’t for this hobby of his, Y/N wouldn’t see him for the clown he was. 

It was unusual as well for the H/C haired student, since reading Akashi’s work and hearing his confession, Y/N started to see him more than the perceived image she thought of him. She began to notice his long eyelashes that flutter when he blinded, he often did so when he was nervous or trying to answer the teacher. She noticed the way his shirt would cling onto his flexed muscles when he would wipe the blackboard clean. She noticed the way his pupils would float towards her direction when they would wait in line for the cafeteria. Has he always been this beautiful?

Y/N was both enamoured and ashamed of how she felt. If the proclamation of a romantic act was all it took for her to fall in love, did this show how shallow she was deep down? That she only liked someone who was completely besotted of her, regardless of how she truly felt? Her mind spiralled out of control every time she saw him, she wanted to be near Akaashi, she wanted to recreate the mesmerising promises from his poems together with him, she wanted to feel the same emotions he felt for her. Y/N couldn’t help but question her own purpose for liking the vice-Captain. Maybe she was just attracted to his attraction of her, maybe she didn’t actually like him, she just liked the idea of him. 

So she made a plan, get to know him. Get closer to him, figure out if it's him or just a fantasy. 

“Hey Akaashi,” the boy looked up from his maths textbook, he had thrown himself into his studies and volleyball to forget his encounter with his muse. “Do you think you could help me with something?”

“What is it that you need L/N?” 

With a shaky laugh and a scratch on her neck she coughed out her reply, “I’ve been struggling with writing a new song for the school festival…and well, I wanted to know how you write your stuff. Of course you can say no! It’s just I wanted to write as well as you do.” 

Akaashi felt his heart skip a beat, he forgot how to breathe for a second and felt himself sinking further into his seat. 

“Oh it’s okay. Yeah I’ll help.” He only managed to spit out an indifferent response without a goofy smile slipping onto his face. 

“Perfect! Well do you have practice after school today?” He shook his head. “Alright, so come meet me in the music room after your last class. I don’t need to show you where it is do I?” She teased, she was well aware of his observant eye. 

Despite being the vice-Captain of the volleyball team, representing an entire school to the whole nation during tournaments. This was the most nervous he had felt. His hand gripped the door handle, he had dreamt of this moment countless times. Once the door opened he would see Y/N perched on a table, their legs carefully sat on a chair in front of them balancing a guitar, lightly strumming its strings and humming a tune so familiar to him. The sun would set upon her, a golden beam would cast its kisses onto her skin as she would play absentmindedly. He'd have this dream time and time again till he memorised it, maybe this time it could be a reality, he selfishly hoped. 

“You gonna open the door or what?” 

Akaashi jolted back, causing Y/N to burst in a string of giggles.

“Oh, who would’ve thought you’re so jumpy! Well you do play volleyball. Huh, get it?” Her shit eating grin was both cute and punchable. 

As the two settled their bags onto a spare table, Y/N brought out a few clipped pages, some scrunched up, one being a random tissue from the nearby family diner. The ink on the tissue had bled to be unrecognisable. 

“Yeah, don’t mind that one. This dad said something cool and I wanted to remember it, I only had tissues on me.” 

Akaashi didn’t think he would be sat with his muse, reading her work, using a spare red pen to edit her rhyming couplets and breaking a few lines that were too long for his liking. Y/N couldn’t keep still seeing Akaashi read her lyrics, she felt like she was sat in front of a teacher. 

“Here, I changed a few things but other than that it’s really good.” When he gave her the sweetest of smiles, she swore her breath was ripped straight out of her mouth. He was basking in the setting sun's haze, his eyelashes fluttered with the light breeze that the window let in.

Things continued from there, on days where there was no band or volleyball practice, Y/N and Akaashi would creep into the music room and get lost in the scribbles of their minds. They didn’t speak about themselves as much as they had wished for, their conversations ranged from poetry, music and on occasion homework. Y/N showed Akaashi some of the artists she took inspiration from; boygenius, Phoebe Bridges and Amy Winehouse. Names of which Akaashi was familiar with in passing. He wasn’t a large music fan to the point where he’d memorise the names of the artists. But he found himself nodding along to a few songs Y/N introduced him to on his walk home. In return, he gifted Y/N a pocket anthology of poems that reminded him of her. 

“The author's called Cerys Matthews, she’s a songwriter but also writes poems, you should read some.” 

She grasped the book tightly, as if it would shatter like glass if it fell to the floor. 

“Hah, it’s just like us then!” 

The more weeks passed, the closer the school festival would lurk over everyone’s heads. With exam period over, all students put their efforts into preparing for their events. As per Bokuto Koutarou's request, the volleyball team were teaming up with the soccer team to host their own maid cafe, where the boys would dress in French maid outfits and serve their fellow classmates drinks and desserts. Akaashi was too worried over his muse’s disappearance in the last few weeks to care about the maid outfit he had been placed in. His meetings with Y/N dwindled down as fast as a dying flame. Her band were doing daily practice for their performance at the festival. Y/N only spoke about it once to him. 

“I’m scared. We’ve only ever performed covers of songs. But this time we promised to perform a new song, an original song. It’s on me to make it perfect. Everyone’s going to be watching us,” her head was permanently screwed to face the floor. She couldn’t bare to see Akaashi’s pitiful eyes. Instead, he leaned forward, reached out his hand and rubbed her forearm lightly, barely grazing her skin. 

“It’ll be alright. We will write an incredible song for the festival. Together.” 

Their last meeting was eating him up inside, he had invited her round to his, since the rain was getting heavier that evening and the school had to be shut early for renovations. He felt like he was floating walking side by side with Y/N under his umbrella. She clutched her bag to protect the papers inside from getting soaked. The summer rain held a heavy heat along with the splashes of water. Each raindrop that beat the umbrella created a rhythm that Y/N couldn’t help but point out. She lightly hummed a new melody he hadn’t heard before in tune with the rain. 

He insisted on having them stay at the dining room table, he couldn’t cope with the thought of his muse, the light that guides his way to be sat in the same room that he sleeps in. Y/N’s curious eye didn’t help his predicament. Eventually she found herself in his room, peering at the open notebook on his desk. Another poem. 

Aurora. 

She was drawn in from the first stanza, she felt her heart cling to each echoing beat that reverbed throughout her body. She couldn’t help but sing. A soft melody, the same rhythm from the rain, the light tapping of her fingernails on the wooden desktop. 

“What are you doing in here?” 

Y/N flipped her head back, so fast she heard her neck click. She hadn’t felt embarrassed around him since his confession three months ago. 

“N-nothing! I just, I was just looking!” Akaashi walked up to her and held onto the back of the chair she was perched on. He leaned over her to read the page, he was so close to Y/N’s face, she could smell his cologne. A smooth, cedar wood tone with hints of a citrus musk. It was addicting. 

“Aurora. That’s my favourite one so far.”

“I think it's my favourite as well.” A comfortable, silent lull blanketed them for a few minutes, reading the poem line by line, Y/N lightly humming the new melody she created.

Neither them had to mention who Aurora was, both of them knew. He always referenced his Aurora in every poem he wrote. Neither of them said a world, they just allowed the feeling of something blooming to take its roots between them.

Her posters were stuck on every wall in the school, an amateur drawing of instruments and a mic, along with bubbled text that read:

Fukurodani Academy presents Double Helix’s summer stage!

Akaashi craved to see Y/N in her world, he had only seen her perform from afar in a tiny music room, in a deserted school. The thought of Y/N illuminating a stage fed his hunger to see her.

It was the middle of the first day of the festival, he was incredibly uncomfortable in the maid dress, despite his black shorts under the skirt, he regularly had to take a break to calm himself from the ridiculousness. It took awhile for the other boys to get used to the dresses but eventually they found the humour in the situation and their business was booming. Whilst jotting down a gaggle of girls’ orders, he was cut short with the sudden guitar strum and a heavy beating drum. It’s starting. He couldn’t abandon his shift, but he had to see Y/N. 

“Ah, ah. 1, 2. 1, 2." 

Akaashi slammed the notepad on the table causing the groupies to screech, within a second he was running out the door screaming to Bokuto that there was an emergency he had to attend. He didn’t care for the stares he received as he weaved through the crowds of people in the hallway. The windows were wide open and he could hear her from the courtyard. 

You found me in flames, it’s the daylight of change.  Baby all that stuff is done. You’re my morning sun.

He knew this piece. They were his words. It was his favourite. Their favourite. He jumped over a few stairs, ignoring the strain in his calves. Till finally he made it to the courtyard, zipping through the cluster of fans dancing along to Y/N’s siren voice. 

You called from a fever dream,  The crazy wasn’t done You’re my morning sun.  Oh Aurora, you’re my morning sun.

There he was, in his stupidly pristine French maid dress, basking in the light of a star. Her body moved like the ocean waves, flowing with the soft summer breeze under the blazing sunlight. Her voice drew him in like a drug. She was up there, singing his words. His feelings. The jumping feet of the crowd behind him and the electrifying instruments made his heart feel suffocated by the intense noise. He didn’t care for it all, because in front of him was Y/N. 

Kinda thought that night was gonna last forever, Kinda thought that night was gonna last forever, Kinda thought that night was gonna last forever, Kinda thought!

The set continued with three more cover songs and an encore requested by the audience. Akaashi felt like he witnessed an angel fly down and kiss him on his forehead. With the final cheers the band walked off stage for the next performers to come on, a few people dispersed from the crowd once Double Helix left whilst others joined. Akaashi felt his arm be dragged down.

“Akaashi what the hell are you wearing?!” She cackled, and he finally saw her wide smile that brought his heart to its knees, it had been weeks since he saw her this close. 

“Oh, I- Well- You were incredible L/N.”

“Thank you! I had to use your stuff it was too good to be hidden! But of course I added some of my own work in there. So really it's our song!” She winked. “Anyways, I gotta take a picture of this version of Akaashi! I don’t think I’ll ever see you in something like this ever again!” She pulled out her phone and dragged his shoulders to pose for a photo. Before he could even notice the shutter camera noise, Y/N had turned her head to leave a light peck on Akashi’s cheek. Click. 

It was a mere second, Akaashi was at a stand still, there was no one else around them. Just Y/N and him. Then, she laughed. Her infectious laugh that he would love to hear every waking hour. 

“You better come to tomorrow's performance, Keiji!” Y/N shouted as she ran back to her bandmates, far from Akaashi Keiji who was as still as a marble statue, his hand permanently stuck on his cheek. 

[social-mockingbird]

keldabe kisses are the windows to the soul (pt.2)

(tech x reader)

pt. 1 here!  pt. 3 here!

hello, lovely humans! i hope you’re doing well! here is part two! i thought this would only be two parts, but it will probably end up being three. it is a slower burn than i originally intended, but i am having a blast writing the Pining™️.

author’s rec: red giant by stellardrone is a gorgeous spacey vibe of a song and fits this part really well :D

________

You really weren’t that surprised Cid let you go with the boys. She’d taken one look at your suddenly watery eyes when Echo told you they were leaving, huffed, and started digging credits out of her pockets. 

“Advance pay,” she’d croaked at you. “Don’t be gone too long.” 

It had been two months of jobs, sleeping on the Marauder and eating rations, and you’d never been happier. Wrecker and Omega had taken to including you during their game nights, and Hunter had shown you a few basic moves with his hunting knife. You’d had at least two holofilm nights with Echo and he always cried at the sad parts and always pretended he didn’t. It was, despite some hairy missions and sleepless nights, a quiet sort of existence. So you’d had a lot of time to think.

They’d told you Tech’s thing was his smarts–the Kaminoans had blessed him with increased mental capacity and a photographic memory that made him wicked brilliant and a total nerd to boot. He still hadn’t stopped ranting about the beetles you’d found on Kashyyyk three weeks ago to anyone who would listen (you). 

But you swore his real talent was in perceptiveness–he noticed everything. 

Which was not helpful when you were prone to staring at him. 

He was captivating, and it was horrible. You told yourself it was because of how intent he got on his work, his rare smiles, his gentle hands. 

But you knew it was his eyes. 

Omega and Kix–God, you missed Kix–were the only clones you knew who ever came close to the particular shade of gold in Tech’s eyes, but Omega’s were too auburn, Kix’s too brown. It was a sharp contrast to the almost greyish-brown of Hunter’s eyes and the bluish tint of Wrecker’s one good eye. 

But he noticed every time you started to stare, and you could almost swear he’d started staring back–and that was not something you were prepared to handle. Kix used to do the same, meeting your eyes over trays of meds and bacta, noticing when you got too exhausted or overwhelmed. 

But your feelings for Kix were a pretty scar on your healing heart. You mourned him, and loved him, but you knew moving on was what he would have wanted for you, selfless as he was. 

And now there was Tech.

You told yourself it was a silly crush. You were lonely, and he was a weird sort of lovely. Gentle with you and Omega, patient, and quietly kind. He’d been the one to let you sit up with him when you needed a night to think, and the one to regale you with the oddest facts about his favorite monsters and animals from adventures to make you laugh and wonder. So you resigned yourself to quiet loving, the kind that didn’t scare people away, the kind that didn’t hurt too much when you had to move on. 

And then you hurt yourself during a stargazing trip. 

It was the perfect definition of trip, really; nothing more cartoonish could have happened to you than the way you caught your toe on a twisty root and flailed all the way to the ground, making a noise that sounded like a sick Wookie. A nasty flare of pain went up your wrist when it caught the brunt of your fall. 

Wrecker laughed first, because it was funny, but he was the first to pick you up and set you gently upright on the ground when he heard you groan. You did your best not to sniffle. They’d all had worse than some stupid scrapes and a tweaked wrist, and you weren’t about to complain. 

Hunter assured you your wrist wasn’t broken and took the bandages from Echo’s pack to wrap it while Omega cleaned the scrapes on your chin and palms and knees with something that stung. It was sweet, the way they all gathered around you, a pack of worried siblings. 

“I can carry her to the outcropping.” 

Tech’s voice was a surprise. He’d silently watched as his sister and brothers tended to you, eyes on your face the whole time. 

“That’s sweet, Tech, but I can walk.” You waggled your feet. “Still in tip-top shape.” Your left ankle twinged in protest, and you winced. 

____

It made sense that Tech would be able to carry you effortlessly. He was just as fast and strong as his brothers, and one of the tallest in the crew. It was just—he held you like it was nothing. You couldn’t feel him straining, and any shifting he did only brought you closer into his embrace. He’d encouraged you to wrap your arms around his neck to make transporting you a bit easier, and he didn’t seem to mind that you’d rested your head on his chest, eyes closed. There wasn’t much to see until the outcropping anyway. 

He had his own scent underneath the regulation soap you all used and it was driving you crazy. 

And thinking about it was driving you crazier. You were glad Echo couldn’t see your face because you wouldn’t be able to stand the knowing look he’d give you. Echo’s antics would reveal your feelings faster than you’d ever want. 

Faint pink light made you open your eyes just as Tech shifted your weight, setting you down on a flat rock and making sure your legs weren’t folded uncomfortably. He settled next to you and placed a hand over your eyes. 

“Tech. What?” You almost pried his hand away but then that would mean touching his hand and suddenly you were overthinking it and twisting your fingers in your lap. 

“Wait until everyone gets settled. In approximately seven ticks it will be the optimal viewing time.” 

So you sat, trying not to think about how warm his gloved hand was, and breathed out a sigh, focusing on the gentle warmth of the light seeping through Tech’s fingers. 

When he drew his hand away everything was new. 

Most planets you visited had sunrises in similar colors, buttery yellows and oranges and the sort of pink you loved as a little girl, but this sky was purple, and so clear. 

There was faint pink light on the horizon where the sun was starting to come up, lining the few flat clouds with scarlet, but the main attraction was the sky above it, a rich, smooth violet expanse, filled with stars and galaxies like gems on a gown. Even Wrecker went silent after his first delighted shout, and you watched the planets dance in a glassy sky, reflected in the smooth water below the outcropping. You forgot about your aching body during the minutes before the sun broke the bonds of the sea and cast pale, pretty light into your eyes. 

There was a glint to your right. You turned just in time to catch Tech shift towards the sun, turning his face into the light. 

Where had he been looking before? 

It gave you something to think about, for sure, as he carried you back to the Marauder, and you leaned your head against him and prayed that maybe everything was changing.

[les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques]

A little more of what I’m up to:

If I ever let you leave Mazanderan, Behrouz once said, wind rifling through his hair, you must promise me there will be no more reckless violence. No more death upon your hands. There is a worthy man somewhere inside of you. Make something good with him.

At first, Erik laughed—right in his little Daroga’s bonny face, blessings on its memory—at the impossibility of such a promise. A man composed of death from head-to-toe had a right to his natural trade; take a sailor off the water and he will stumble around terra firma on his sea legs, after all.

But as the decades began to creep up on his tenure in Paris, Erik was mildly pleased to learn that there was little difference between killing and making art; perhaps it was why it had become so easy to replace one with the other almost entirely, save for a necessary indulgence. Destroy a sheet of newsprint, or else smatter it with carmine lake, rich as blood. Squeeze the life from a metal tube of paint, grind a pencil into a useless stub, and watch them slowly crumple into uselessness before your eyes. To say nothing of how hanging or stretching out a canvas was a considerably tidier affair than hanging or stretching out a men. Canvas did not piss itself or beg for god, did not leave behind wailing widows or round-eyed children. You were its god. You, its lover. You, the one who remained behind to witness their legacy.

Besides, it is not the inherently good man who makes art, or so he told himself, whenever his past sins slinked up against his memory like a cat. Rather, it is the man searching for his own meaning who does.

And ashamed as he was to admit it, music seemed to only bring pain these days. For though his violin inevitably found its way into his hands on a regular basis, song always blew through him like wind, biting and fast-fleeting. Such was first love grown cold, or so the poets said. Yet despite his crimes, he was young enough to believe a part of him was still capable of creating some sliver of beauty. Architecture had returned to him naturally in this phase of life, yet the Opera was Garnier’s child, however much he might interfere and hassle the man otherwise. And at the end of the day, whatever else he designed on his own terms, he was still building worlds for other men to inhabit. Men who still could live in this one unmolested and admired, despite their transgressions.

Such were the hard truths to confront in trying to exist like those men, nevermind the nightmare of his face: that music was ingrained and inevitable, impossible to forget because of the way it had woven itself around the tragedy that was his existence. That destroying buildings required a level of violence which he told himself was no longer within him. But drawings—paintings—ah! They were like mirrors. Easily smashed, highly forgettable if you saw enough of them in this world. And every day, a new luminary rose amongst society, only to be forgotten amongst a fresh wave of other image-makers. Fair play, then. Let him be a creator and an iconoclast—it was a step above being a monster.

It was in keeping with this train of thought that he dragged himself to the Salon that spring of 1865, false nose in place, ready to brave the brunt of a Paris thirsty for meaning in this rare period of bucolic nothingness. He’d been out of the world for most of his life, yet never had Erik felt the longing to finally join it so keenly; it whispered, low and lovely, that such a world was only just slightly out of his reach. And why should he believe otherwise? He’d a beautiful home on a quiet street in Montparnasse, a small office staffed with a handful of spineless but otherwise competent yes men, and a contract to one of the most important projects the city had seen in decades—perhaps centuries. Barring his ugliness, he was almost a gentleman. And modern gentlemen, it was understood, were men of art.

All of the chatter around that season’s exhibition concerned Manet’s latest ode to Paris: a massive vignette depicting some lady of ill-repute and her maid, the former staring directly at the viewer like she was Venus herself and not some stunted, stubby-legged creature summoned from the depths of Pigalle; he laughed when first saw it, delighted in the fact that most people in the room were horrified enough by her presence to ignore his entirely—despite the fact that a million such women floated in and our of their lives as easily as the breeze. Despite the fact that such women fucked the attending husbands, enraged their poor wives, and spent the money that might have gone to their children or good names on whatever it took to survive and, perhaps, survive well.

From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Erik glanced around the gallery; he imagined spotting his darling Behrouz’s amused scandal, found himself hoping to spot a convivial smile, or some other scrap of kindred humanity. Something to tell him that he was not completely alone in the world as he always knew was, deep down.

That was how he first saw her: a tall camellia amongst withering irises, dressed from head to toe in black silk despite the delightful May weather. Beneath the little veil on her hat was a face worthy of Marianne—a straight, patrician nose; wide, almondine eyes; a mouth that looked as if it were sculpted for the sole purpose of indiscriminate, egalitarian kissing. But as beautiful as she was, it was the expression on her face that arrested him so. It was hard to describe, save for that it was something like a mixture of humiliation and proud understanding—the same emotion he felt as the crowds of Nizhny Novgorod showered him in gold in praise of his ugliness. Her spine remained ramrod straight all the while, despite the large man on her arm chortling and whispering something in her ear, the corner of her mouth downturning ever so slightly. Even as her chaperone walked away, she remained fixed in that position, save for the occasional nervous swipe of a gloved thumb over her parasol’s handle.

And somewhere, above the offended din of the masses, Erik heard a music he’d long forgotten—the awful thumping of his heart.

[sassyandclassy94]

Last Line Tag

I tagged myself because last I knew, America is still a free country, darn it.

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

I’ve been working on multiple things so I’m gonna post a few. Buckle up, buttercups.

Untitled Don x OFC oneshot:

“You look nice!” She stated as she quickly glanced at him from his head down to his feet. His hair was combed neatly (like it always was) and he was wearing his Sunday best: black pleated slacks, a crisp and pressed white shirt with a subtle design on the fabric, suspenders (despite belts slowly becoming more affordable again), a dark tie with a dotted design, and Oxford dress shoes. His black blazer was either hanging off the door or draped across their bed but once he’d put it on, it would complete his look. He shot her a sideways glance and nodded before she headed for their bedroom.

Untitled whump fic about Bobby (which may or may not be based on personal experiences)

But now? As the afternoon was coming to a close? Things were not so great. He started feeling off when he was getting dressed for the crew’s victory party; he felt tired and sore but chalked it off as simply being in the sun all day. It wasn’t until he got back to his room that he saw how red he really was. Sure he noticed his arms getting a tad pink but now he saw how bad it really was. His reflection nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

“Oh this is just perfect…” he said to himself as he inspected his arms.

“I Feel Like Gold” (part of my ‘He’s Progressed and She’s Impressed’ series)

“And it meant I did my job well, right? Because,” he paused, looked down for a moment before he lifted his eyes to her again. “It sure sounded, and felt, like I did.” He flashed her another lopsided grin.

Kate felt blood rush to her cheeks and shyly grinned at him. “You, you did.” She stammered. “You definitely did.”

Untitled Bobby x OFC fic (I stress about titles later, okay??)

“Don’t make a scene,” he scoffed. “You say that I’m not good enough because of my height and you tell me not to make a scene?” His voice reached his coxswain volume and when Tilly tried to shush him, he waved her off. “No! You don’t get to shush me. You know what? Fine. I don’t care if you find my height undesirable. Really, I don’t care! But what’s really pathetic is how you led me on over this entire year!”

Swan Song - an ANGSTY SwanFire story told through Henry’s point of view (see?? I’m still writing SwanFire, girlies!)

“I just can’t. But I want you to have it. Maybe you can give it to the girl you decide to marry one day, I don’t know. But I know you’ll keep it safe for me.” I noticed tears forming in her eyes again. “This was the first gift your father ever gave to me,” she paused and smiled fondly at the memory. “For my eighteenth birthday. He said I didn’t seem like the diamond earrings kinda girl - which of course he was right - and knew I loved swans… so, he got me this.”

“Secrets, Lies, and Blessings” (this one is a THORN in my side, I swear I’ll never get it done)

“No,” Emma shook her head and looked back at her reflection. “I just don’t wanna, ya know, squish the little prince.” She may not have been pregnant for very long but she was already becoming very protective of her unborn son.

Yeah, no… I’m not tagging THAT many people. I don’t even FOLLOW that many people…

No pressure Tags: @coneygoil @eviebelieve-y @swanfireprincessmydear @heatherfield @morningdawnbreaks (do you write?? I can’t even remember, it’s late here in my corner of the world so if you don’t I’m sorry😭) @strangethings-everywhere @okieedokes @fan-writer02 @selkiesstories I don’t know… if I missed anyone, or if you’re a writer and want to participate, have at it! You can even say I tagged you!

[manybcdthings]

NICK BELCOURT — HEADCANONS

QUIRKS, HABITS AND MEMORIES

Nick always, without a doubt, has a song stuck in his head at any moment. It can be for an afternoon, for a few days or for weeks. The same part, sometimes not even the chorus or a part with any lyrics. It usually impacts Bella the most where the two of them keep singing/humming the same part over and over again and blaming the other for it getting stuck in the first place.

His lockscreen is a picture of Michon when Nick first visited, sitting just slightly in front of the other puppies and his mother with his head tilted. The moment Nick decided he was the best gift for Nadia.

Keeps receipts for all his conversations, probably because of Sebastian and Bella. He can pull up emails from 2009 if needed.

Is better at the ideas and planning of a situation than the physical work needed to get something done. He's capable when he can focus, but he usually can't so he's the one clutching the instructions and bossing everyone around.

Despite being very social and outgoing, Nick gets overwhelmed at parties etc and now he's older, doesn't really see a point in them. He attends if he needs to show his face, puts on a good show but usually needs a weekend to recharge his social battery.

Is a chatterbox but really, really values when he can share comfortable silences with other people.

Focuses the most when he listens to classical music, but doesn't want to seem obnoxious so makes do with indie folk in the background when he's working.

Somewhat clumsy but is never embarrassed by it, he can laugh anything of and move right along. Also doesn't mind if he's the butt of a joke to take the heat off someone else.

A lot of his volunteer work has been inspired by his sister, because Bella teaches him a lot about the environment and he admires her passion. His little garden at his and Seb's apartment is his personal project, wanting to plant as many things to attract and sustain bees lmao

Has had a handful of serious relationships, but usually while supporting and encouraging them to reach their goals and personal fulfillment, they've needed to separate because of distance etc.

Has worn the same chain since he was twenty, it was given to him by Aaron.

Is an information sponge and can seem fickle because he listens to all sides of a situation, even if they contradict one another and doesn't always place himself on either.

A portion of his salary goes to various charities but he never talks about it, even to defend himself, as it seems obnoxious to mention.

Considers himself religious but keeps his beliefs private and away from any discussions. Will happily listen to agnostic and atheist beliefs, and even agree with them.

Since he's never needed to drive, Nick isn't the best driver yet insists on being the driver when abroad. Chaos ensues.

Has different friend groups that are quite different from one another, and he has to actively align his personality to what group he's with. Slip ups have happened.

Has a soft spot for dogs, despite being raised around cats. He thinks cats are too aloof and dogs match his energy more. Literally would die if something happened to Michon.

Makes friends very easily when out, which can be a blessing and a curse.

Always tells friends to tell him when they're home safely, or asks for them to share location until they get home.

Every time he tries to have a quiet weekend alone, he gets pulled into something social and has a hard time saying no.

Animated and engaging talker, gestures a lot with his hands. Sebastian, Bella, Nadia and Gen can decipher what he's saying by his hands even if they can't hear him.

Is very gregarious and outgoing, doesn't care goofing around or being filmed, can seem quite loud and showing off because of it. The second he sees a phone pointed at him, he's playing up to it.

A good dancer and when drunk enough, gets into dance offs.

Loves watches and has a watch for every fit, it's probably the most materialistic he ever gets.

[fortifice]

gepard playlist analysis continued. part 2 / listen here. this somehow went from being a mostly epic the musical playlist to a bring me the horizon playlist.

blasphemy. bring me the horizon. the first verse touches on the topic of knowing something is wrong but turning a blind eye to it, there's been times where gep felt things within the silvermane guard and with the supreme guardian weren't right but he didn't speak up on them. bend the knee and give away your life also referring to the oath the guard swears to follow. your faith has you immured in the chorus sort of touches upon gepard being confined within the faith and loyalty he has to the supreme guardian. you're not blessed, you're cursed relating to the preservation and how while preaching this ideal the lives lost are fleeting and aren't truly protected by it. verse 3 again talking about this concept of right and wrong which has been his truth for a long time, it not making sense to him anymore but it must be right because it's the supreme guardian's will. the blood, sweat, the sacrifice that's the guard, their training, their enduring, their deaths sacrificed to keep belobog safe. Hearing no voice when they pray at night could either be directed at the fact that the supreme guardian doesn't hear them or that qliphoth doesn't care / won't save them. but they swore their oath and they cannot turn back.

remember everything. five finger death punch. both verse one and verse two reflect on the complicated relationship gepard has with his family, while the mother and father one aren't as obvious as the one talking about sister and brother in the second verse they are both applicable. especially when it says 'father in your eyes i never added up' being the pressure that is put on his shoulders to reach his father's expectations. the dear sister dont blame me, I only did what I thought was truly right talks about the guilt he feels for letting serval down in his belief that the supreme guardian was right, that he chose his loyalty over his family. the outro talks about how one cannot change the past and how they will always remember everything, this in relation to loss and grief. It's about those days before death came into his life feeling so fleeting and now they're inescapable memories.

cold. five finger death punch. the chorus here talking about how no one wants the blame to me felt in correlation with belobog's situation in relation to the supreme guardian and those in power. it's all so wrong but who am I to say shows Gepard reflecting on how he knows, past the loyalty that he has, that what is happening is wrong but is it in his power to say something against it. no, it's not. the second verse mostly relates from the line that implies that one is enslaved by rules which gepard very much is and then it goes on to say somehow, someday, i'll have to turn the page giving the feeling of change in belobog and how despite having wanted that before now is the time to see it through.

president perfect. caleb hyles. this is a almost light hearted but also impactful song in contrast to alot of other songs on his playlist but it reflects the internal struggle between being in love with someone and having this notion that it's wrong. when it says I see a face in the window and my brain starts to go it really shows that his position won't allow him to foster the feelings he has and that it could potentially ruin him. I've spoken about how alot of Gepard's life has encompassed love as compromise and here where it says love you dont even know reflects that.

behind blue eyes. limp bizkit. this one's just this excerpt from verse 2 but it feels impactful with seeing that Gepard forces back his emotions alot and bites back on his anger, how pain can't be shown. it's alot to do with expression and how he's been encouraged if not sort of forced to not express it. ( not so much force bc at the end of the day it's his decision to act as he does but his life doesn't accommodate expression )

birds. imagine dragons. this song was giving huge leo & gep vibes and that's sort of why this is on his playlist but it also speaks to grief and losing someone who is close to you. Gepard has lost plenty of friends / colleagues in the battle against the fragmentum.

drown. bring me the horizon. from verse one talking about loss and grieving and how the longer someone withstands it the more of a toll it takes on them. The last line where it says the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up talking about enduring in spite of death and loss and again, it's taking a fucking toll on him. The chorus line where it says who will drag me out alive could literally be talking about hauling his ass back from the front lines and him almost dying over and over again like. he's saving everyone else who is going to save him ?

strangers. bring me the horizon. in the chorus where it talks about a room full of strangers consider every, single member of the silvermane guard and what they do and do not know about each other, truly, when they first join they are pretty much strangers to one another. alone together, we're dying to live and we're living to die talking about how much many of them want to live and how by swearing the oath many of them are condemned to death. verse 2 last 2 lines really touching upon saying that they're going to make it, training and believing themselves strong only to end up witnessing their colleagues deaths. dragging themselves through hell could be directed towards either the frontlines themselves and the hellscape it can become or navigating loss. the bridge saying we're all alone talking about how the separation between guard / protector and the citizens is actually quite isolating. there's no place like home to me is like looking back on belobog and almost feeling dejected because protecting it has come at such a grave cost.

[forelsketparadise]

AHH! The fic titles prompt has me spiraling in my piarles playlist (read: every song) but:

"you say you like the wind"

"So let’s go back home and forget we ever left there"

"you always take the dare, thats what I learned"

It's fun isn't it. There are so many talented writers blessings us with incredible plotlines.

Now to answer you.

"you say you like the wind"

My surfer AU

Pierre is Lewis's assistant surf instructor. Lewis assign Charles as his student who he has to teach surfing. There are instant sparks and they decide to have a summer fling. During this time Pierre tells Charles about how the best part of surfing for him is when he is riding a wave and the winds blows right with him. He also tells him the wind Is like how he wants his life to be free of any attachments. They catch feelings. Charles wants a relationship Pierre refuse it. Charles goes back home heartbroken. Pierre wants a life like this because he is still nursing a broken heart from a previous relationship that broke up because of Pierre's attitude towards life. Lewis calls out his bullshit and sends him to Charles. Charles ask him about what happened to being a wind now? Pierre has no answer for him.Charles refuses to take him back. Pierre has to earn forgiveness. They eventually get together after Pierre realises that being like wind doesn't necessarily mean being alone and free of any attachments.

"So let’s go back home and forget we ever left there"

I think this best suits my amnesia AU

It's 2026. Charles is a multi time world champion. Pierre is with Mercedes fighting his first championship. Charles gets into an accident while driving back from Maranello during the summer break. He loses 16 years worth of memories of his life. The last thing he remembers is being told Pierre would be his teammate in 2010. He doesn't know that he is Pierre's finance. Pierre gets devastated learning about it. Charles wants to meet his best friend Pierre Pierre tell Charles the truth of their relationship. Charles feels bad that he doesn't remember anything or being in love with him. Pierre wants another chance with Charles and wants to try again. He asks Charles if he would be willing to let Pierre make him fall in love with him again. Charles agree. And they restart their relationship making new memories today putting the past behind them for the time being so as to not overwhelm Charles recovery. After a point those lost memories don't matter anymore because despite losing them they found their way back to each other.

"you always take the dare, thats what I learned"

This is definitely my pilot Pierre and Flight Attendant Charles AU

Pierre and Charles are married but they never get to spend any time together because they are always flying in the different directions. They never have off time together. They are growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of physical proximity and affection. Finally they are appointed on the same transatlantic flight. They are overjoyed about it. However whenever they try to get together before the flight they are always interrupted. Charles tells him to wait until they reach their destination. Pierre however takes it as a challenges and leaves no stone unturned to have sexy times with him during the flight. They keep getting interrupted which just adds fuel to the fire.

Thanks for asking.

[common-grackle]

Miles Tuck as an outsider

I'm going to spend a couple hours typing up my thoughts so I can share my brain goop with all of you. Should I be doing computer science homework right now? Absolutely, but this is more fun.

To me Miles is the most interesting character in Tuck Everlasting, and I think it's because he's clearly different from the rest. The first time we see Miles is in the prologue, which is not super helpful for establishing his character other than "wow, he drank water." But in Live Like This, there's a lot going on with Miles.

Jesse and Miles sing their part of the number together (despite not being in the same place). The contrast between the boys is obvious.

Miles's first lines are "Off the train in New Hampshire, and it's back in an instant/The feeling that I'm somewhere I don't belong." Excuse me?? In itself, this is an incredibly effective way to introduce him as a character, but it hits even harder when we hear Jesse's verse: "Hello Treegap New Hampshire, catch me up on what's new/Your silo I see still has the best view."

Jesse belongs. Miles doesn't.

Jesse's verse is a greeting, where Miles's is closer to an internal monologue. There's also a parallel between "it's back in an instant" and "catch me up on what's new." Returning to Treegap is an adventure for Jesse; Miles has seen all that it has to offer, and he's not interested in coming back.

Miles and Jesse's parallel character arcs are something that I never shut up about, so let's keep going. Jesse has positive memories associated with Treegap (or he's buried the negative ones), and what he's looking for is a new person. Treegap brings back almost entirely negative memories for Miles, and he's looking to forget the people he used to have.

Going back to the song, we have Jesse singing "I swear/Is there anyone who still knows me?" and Miles echoing "I swear." Like I said, Jesse wants people, and Miles does not want to be here. Miles's next lines, "Almost there/This town never outgrows me" pretty much solidify this in my head; he's just tired. (Jesse's "Almost there" is clearly excitement about arriving at his parents' house.)

And then their part together: "Unaware/I'll never know why this world chose me/to live like this, live like this, forever." This is another key difference between the two: Jesse takes immortality as a blessing, and Miles takes it as a curse.

As a bonus, Miles is clearly on edge in his next scene. He is not going to his Happy Place.

In the next scenes - everything surrounding The Story of the Tucks - Miles is actually pretty quiet. (That's also just kind of How He Is, but it really stands out when he's around Winnie??) He also has a lot of lines that insinuate that he's expected this kind of thing to happen for a hot minute. Miles's role in his family could be read as the downer or as the voice of reason, and I think he knows that.

I kind of love how Miles doesn't want to participate in the discussion, but he needs the facts to be correct. (I'm now realizing that he's kind of coded as autistic but I'll let you guys figure that out.) He's the one who cuts in and actually gets Winnie to understand what they're saying at the end of the song. Miles isn't wordy, but he knows how to get his point across.

The bit that always gets me about this song is Jesse's "He survived much worse" (referring to Miles). In the cast recording his tone is closer to teasing, but I still can't tell if he's referring to Miles's family. (If he is, Miles's "Shut up, Jesse" makes it That Much Worse.)

Jesse: Stop. She's just a kid. Don't make any good thing seem like it's the end of the world.

Miles: Easy for you to say when you've never looked out for anyone but yourself.

Jesse: That's what you think of me?

Miles: Who says I think of you? (He goes to exit, but turns back.) I shouldn't have implied that you're always selfish. You were an amazing uncle. Sometimes I think about that. (Miles exits.)

So much to unpack here. I'm going to make bullet points.

Jesse becomes more abrasive when he's around Miles.

Miles is obviously holding onto a lot of resentment.

Miles thinks Jesse is immature; he took care of his family, and Jesse has only ever taken care of himself (I feel like this is how a lot of people feel about their youngest siblings).

Jesse had a good relationship with Thomas (who we'll talk about later).

It's my personal interpretation that the reason Jesse and Miles don't get along (or, part of it) is that Jesse encapsulates everything Miles is trying to push down and forget. Jesse is optimistic and young (sort of), and he still feels like Miles's baby brother, even if he's 102.

Angus: Not natural, how much that boy has lost.

Jesse: He's not the only one. I used to have a brother.

And Jesse is bitter because Miles doesn't treat him like an adult. There's growth in that area later, but not yet! It's a while before Miles appears again, and when he does, it's...it's a lot. It's also the most insight we get on Miles.

Jesse: I refuse to keep living alone in the shadows.

Miles: Jesse, if you won't listen to your big brother, then listen to some common sense. So, okay: your plan works for three years, maybe four if you're lucky - then what? Do you someday start a family, and make your children drink the water? And what about when the neighbors catch on to your secret? Then what? Do you wanna go to jail - forever?

Jesse: I already feel like I'm serving a life sentence, Miles! I'd rather do my time next to somebody who actually appreciates it! (Jesse exits upstairs.)

Miles could've spared Jesse's feelings a little more than he does (although, with The Way That Jesse Is, I'm not sure that would've been as effective), but he mostly just wants to keep his brother from going through what he did.

Miles arguably went through the most loss out of the characters in the show, but he doesn't talk much about it. When he does, it's usually vague, and always blunt. Even his song (which makes me cry) is just giving us the facts.

Anyway...those are my two cents. I should probably sleep now.

(tagging @marinesocks and @claireverlasting again!)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Quick question sorry if this has been asked before: do you know any Johnlock fanfic where they’re extremely sensual? Like not just making love but just super methodically drawn out and slow and sweet?

Hi Nonny!!

Ahh, because of this ask, I went through my bookmarks to see if I have any listed with “sensuality” so that’s what this list is!! It definitely doesn’t have all of my fics because I have to go back through them and tag them, but in the meantime, enjoy what I started tagging a few months ago when you sent me this ask, LOL <3

As always, add your own fics here, Lovelies!!

SENSUALITY

See also:

Emotional Love Making || [MOBILE POST]

Emotional Love Making Pt. 2

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[keilemlucent]

“i’m here”

NSFW (minors dni)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

word count: ~2.2k

keigo comes home and you’ve both got old wounds on the surface 

warnings: sex-based breakdown/panic, depictions of ptsd, safe-wording, trauma (😎), vague descriptions of dissociation

a/n: hey folks, mind the tags! this is some vulnerable, self-indulgent hurt/comfort. i’m a bit shy posting this one BUT all the same enjoy <3

Keigo cared.

You could tell, so easily. It radiated around him when you were together, this aura that he never carried publicly. It was saved for you, a different type of adoration and tenderness that solely belonged between the two of your souls.

It was never acknowledged, but felt, and that quiet recognition was enough.

There were things you couldn’t tell him, not yet and fuck, maybe you never would. Everyone has their demons, and you knew Keigo had plenty of secrets he kept to him.

(How many times did you help him pluck and preen feathers still wet with blood? He assured you it was never his, but that didn’t ease the knot in your gut.)

It was just boundaries, maybe. Maybe. The things you couldn’t, wouldn’t tell each other. Little lines drawn to keep the two of you safe from your pains. Better to lock them up than share them, right?

Except, things are never that simple and ills hate staying hidden for too long.

...

He’d been gone for a while. A mission far off and secret.

By proxy, Keigo had come home haggard and hungry.

For you.

He entered your home and without pause, he was on you.

He tossed you into bed. His wings flared out wide and ruffled. It made him look bigger than he was, and the light in his eyes had a starved gleam that sent your heart racing.

You tried to ignore his new, plentiful bruises and bumps. The colors bloomed over his skin, even in the near dark of the bedroom.

What does he do when he’s away?

It was better to not ask questions.

He ravaged you, naturally. How could he not? He’d been gone for weeks, sending you the nastiest, most yearning texts. Nothing too long, but little notes that communicated how much he missed you, how much he fucking needed you.

And he was certainly showing you.

His lips were over yours, nipping and sucking and devouring you in every sense of the word. Hands tugged and ripped your clothes off, his nails long and unmanicured with his mission. They weren’t quite pointed, but they were still too sharp to be scratching down your ribs.

It was all a bit too much, a bit too fast, but you tried to catch up the best you could.

“Keigo—” You sputtered as he bit his way down to your breasts, tugging on a nipple with his teeth.

“Hush,” His voice sounded far too low and it made your stomach flip (in the worst way oh my god). “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound nice, dove?”

The pet name should’ve soothed you.

(‘Should’ve’.)

Your inside did flips as he trailed lower.

Your mind was going lower too.

Mentally, you scrambled, clawing for a ledge to ground yourself on. Sensation whirled, pleasure and fear mixing into some fucked up cocktail in the front of your psyche.

Why are you so scared?

Your heart pounded, nearly ached in your chest as Keigo played with your clit over your panties.

It should’ve felt good.

His tousled hair was so fucking pretty. Keigo was gorgeous in every way, the wings were just a part of his visage. You were so lucky, so privileged to have him looking at your cunt so hungrily.

You’re so scared.

Why are you scared?

(You knew why, you just didn’t want to remember any more than you needed to. But that wasn’t really in your control, was it?)

You felt like you were falling as Keigo cleanly licks your cunt through your panties, soaking the cotton with his drool.

No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes as he pulled aside your panties, just enough to get a look, going in for a taste—

NO, NO, NO—

“N-no. Stop.” You gasped the words, cringing at how they broke in your throat. “Keigo, s-stop.”

Keigo froze immediatly, gaze flickering up to your face before his expression fell hard and fast.

No, no, no, you made him upset.

Dumbass.

He shot up, wings folding tight to his back. You scrambled up on the bed, arms wrapping around your shoulders. They shook in your grasp, you shook in your own hold as you tried to comfort yourself. Your breath was coming too fast and hard, but that was another issue entirely. You tucked into yourself tighter and let your vision go blurry in the ripples of the sheets.

Keigo sat in front of you, eyes wide and lips parted in terror and unsure words.

“I’m so s-sorry,” His hands folded in his lap. So tense they looked painful.

You shook your head, laughing, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You just couldn’t do this right now.

“Can I help?”

You didn’t reply for a moment, trying to reign in your racing mind.

Truly, Keigo didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe moved a bit too fast, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’d done this song and dance so many times, you loved it. Most of the time.

Sometimes, someone with your secrets had bad days that made you scared of the people that love you the most.

A thick sludge burrowed in the back of your throat as you shook your head.

Thinking felt too hard.

“Not yet,” you choked out rubbing at your cheeks. The tears smeared over your cheeks, turning them hot and angry as the rabbit’s heart buried in your chest. .

Keigo hovered, unsure.

It wasn’t like him not to know what to do. He was intuitive and saw through people easily, even if he didn’t say it. And he knew you particularly well. Very well. Little details about you and your being were tucked away in his mind, always brought out in key moments.

“Dovey?” He asked softly, like trying not to startle a terrified animal (isn’t that what you were?) “Do you want me to go?”

“N-no,” The words burst from your lips as your chest squeezed so tight, you could’ve checked. “No, no, no, please don’t go.”

You gagged on air and slammed back into the headboard.

Sure, the odd mix of emotions and very unwelcome memories was rawing your mind and body from the inside out. Sure, Keigo knew nothing of what you were experiencing. This was private, all of this part of you held far away from him. This was your burden. You had therapy, and self-help books, and deep breathing.

But, none of that was working. Instead, you were staring down your lover, helpless.

Your eyes flickered to the nightstand.

“Water?”

Keigo was already sending off a flurry of feathers to freshen up the liquid in the glass.

Good start.

Keigo’s hands twitched, wings restless as he regarded you. His breaths were even and solid, counted and practiced to keep himself calm in the face of your panic.

A chilled glass was delivered to you by a bundle of feathers. You snatched it, holding it to your cheeks before taking a few fat gulps.

Slow down.

You’re going too fast.

“Little sips,” Keigo reminded you, voice soft.

You pulled back, looking at him in your hazy vision, “Little sips?”

You tried again, taking a smaller sip, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing.

“Was that good?” You looked at him, inching closer to him

He nodded, golden and glowing, “Very good.”

The praise was a little bit of salve for a much larger wound, but it felt wonderful nonetheless.

Keigo wasn’t the issue.

He wasn’t, truly. You knew that, despite all the swirling fear.

The only issue with Keigo was that he suddenly felt too far away.

You gave him a desperate little look, hands itching across the covers.

He noticed because of course he fucking did.

(Thank fucking god.)

“I’m here.”

It was a reminder, a needed one.

Keigo, your kind, sweet partner was not the memories swirling his mind. He didn’t hurt you, he didn’t harm you.

“... Yeah?” You sniffled.

“I am.” His face was soft, softer than you’d ever seen. The pre-mature wrinkles looked too deep in the moonlight. His eyes looked too old, too worn, as he silently acknowledged those goddamn demons without a word. A little, rumbling coo broke from the back of his throat and felt yourself relax with the sound.

And, fuck, bless him—

Keigo gave you a soft smile that felt like warm honey in spiced tea that seeps into the cracks between your ribs.  

“Hold me?” You finally asked, words shaking but not hesitant.

He nodded, and before you could comprehend, he was tugging you down into the sheets, pulling you to his chest and squeezing. It wasn’t rough treatment, but it was firm, grounding at the very fucking least. His arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you to his chest and holding you there. Your cheek squished against the chill of the cooling sweat over his sternum, a shaking breath finally coming slow enough to give you a bit of ease.

“Is this okay?” Keigo asked, one of his wings adjusted to barely ghost over your bodies.

You pressed closer, greedy and scared, “More. Tighter. Please.”

Keigo wasn’t one to deny you.

His grip got firmer, fingers stroking up and down your spine in time with his own slow breathing. The wing over you relaxed, bearing down just enough to be comfortable. It was maybe a little too much. You dealt with it, let the weight of Keigo be next to you and over you because he was good. You were good or going to be. You clung to the thought.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

You clung to that thought too. Keigo was good and safe. You believed him if only a little bit.

You hoped Keigo knew that this wasn’t about him. That the poisonous memories and awful thoughts weren’t about him, rather than he’d caught their thin, nearly invisible tripwire.

You’re safe, why are you panicking?

Because sometimes this just happens.

You pressed your nose between his pecs, tucking a hand between the roots of his wings. It made him startle; the area was sensitive. He quickly relaxed and went back to petting your back and taking deep breaths.

The two of you laid for a long time, surrounded by each other's breathing and grounding in the heat of the sheets and the white noise of the world. You remained in some sort of a daze for most of it, the memories fading, but just leaving you numb and out of it.

“More water?” Keigo asked, tentatively kissing your clammy forehead.

You nodded, sitting up slowly and rubbing a hand over your cheeks. The air felt less suffocating, your mind calmer, but you still felt like shit—

“Drink,” Keigo brought the glass to your lips with a combination of his hands and feathers.

You gulped down half of the freshened water, letting a bit dribble past the corner of your lips. The leftovers were swept away by your thumb and rubbed in your hot cheeks. The cold was a grounding, and the world was finally stilling as you needed it to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” You met Keigo’s gaze from where he sat across from you. He sat upright and on his knees, hands and wings folded to his center. The posture made him look smaller as he watched you. His bright eyes took you in as well as they could, but you could sense he was still a little on edge.

Your words made his brows shoot up.

“I should be telling you that, not the other way around,” Keigo bit his lip and frowned.

You snatched his hands in yours, “We both need it. I need you to know I’m not upset.”

“You... should be. At least a little.”

You gave a little shake of your head, thick in your resolve.

Keigo stayed silent before taking a deep breath, wings readjusting with thought, “I suppose you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t,” Maybe sometime, but not now. “But, I still need you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. It just moved too fast for me and I got...”

You lost your words and your vision went hazy at the bedsheets once more.

“Overwhelmed?” He finished your sentence with a squeeze of your hands.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the word,” You shook your head. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“That’s okay, “ Keigo assured you with another squeeze. “Can I help at all?”

You shook your head once more.

Not right now, not more than you’ve already done.

“Just be here, if that’s okay? Like you have been.” You fully intertwined your fingers, noticing the remnants of something dark under his fingernails. More than likely dirt, but it was still a reminder. “It’s just nice to have you close.”

Everyone has their demons.

“Can I still kiss you?” Keigo asked as you dragged him under the covers.

You mussed on it, wondering if it would bring back the thick fog and panic.

“Only a little,” You told him, once again burying yourself in him. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

It was more than enough for the two of you.

Keigo tilted your jaw up with his palm, giving you the gentlest kiss he could. His touch remained firm everywhere else, but he was tentative in giving you the space you needed.

He pulled away and you tuck yourself under his chin.

“Thank you.”

Keigo’s wing stretched over you, blocking out whatever thoughts and ills clawed toward you. In a wordless squeeze, he said all that needed to.

‘Of course.’

[bbyjimni]

"Record" (M)

-

pairing - idol!park jimin x female reader

brief summary - you and your idol boyfriend decide to flim a sex tape.

warnings/contains - daddy kink, heavy sub/dom themes, ddlg themes, dom!jimin, sub!reader, oral (m&f receiving) + boob-job, extreme exhibitionism, missionary, lots of praise, sloppy kissing, and blonde jimin makes an appearance ;)

words - 3.8k

(im so sorry for how filthy this is)

(if u guys like this then i might upload more jimin works heheh)

—

"mm baby-girl, i think you and i both deserve a little treat. no one's here after all." your boyfriend spoke with a sensual tone in your ear, feeling his erection which showed so clearly through his gray sweats.

you and Jimin were currently in the house of BTS, lying in his bed together while watching Netflix, relaxing and spending time with each other while no one else was home. you weren't sure exactly where everyone had gone or if everyone was gone, but the two of you didn't bother to let that stop your fun and antics.

earlier, you both decided to do a little bit of cooking, however, it failed. harshly failed. who would've thought it's a good idea to cook pancakes on the highest temperature possible? surprise, not surprise, Jimin did. he figured if you cook them on the hottest setting, the pancakes would've been done in less than a minute. ironically, he was right, but what he didn't know was the fact that you could fill a whole house with fiery smoke as well.

but then, after the two of you went through that disastrous mess of a cooking fest and went to relax in your shared room, his thoughts went off in another direction.

he became thirsty for you and your body. his eyes stared at your body, dripping with lust. he was begging to tear your clothes off and throw them away but there was a twist to this playful rendezvous he wanted.

he wanted to record you together.

he wanted to record the faces you make when he's filled you to the brim with his cock, record the begging you do when you want him to pound into you and make you sore, record the way you suck him off so hungrily, and let's just say he wanted the memories for when he's away for a tour or something like that.

"a treat? what kind of treat, baby?" you grinned and bit your finger as Jimin grabbed your hand and placed it over his hard bulge, seeing him bite his lip as you palmed and groped him. "you know exactly what i want. take off your shorts and grab my phone, kitten."

you sat up and untied the strings of your shorts and began sliding them down but then raised an eyebrow.

"grab your phone?" you paused but Jimin didn't bother with it, getting in between your legs and yanking your shorts off of your legs. you yelped from the sudden action and knocked your knees together. "what do you need that for?"

he spread your legs and began kissing your thighs, ignoring your question and earning a groan from you. he reached over to the night-stand and picked up his phone, sticking it down your shirt. his lips travelled from the inside of your thigh to your panties, licking your clothed lower lips with the flat of his tongue, arousing himself even more. although you had no idea what he'd do with a recording such as this, you decided to let it go and open up his camera. he looked up and gave you a sly smile, pressing his thumb to your bud.

"good girl."

as you started filming, he pulled your panties down to your knees, bringing them down the rest of the way with his teeth. for exaggeration, he licked the inside of your thin panties and threw them somewhere in the room. he brought his head back between your thighs and went on to eat you out. his tongue began to flick against your clit, immediately earning whimpers and moans from you as you eagerly rolled your hips against his face. he brought a finger to your entrance, rubbing but refusing to put it inside of your warmth.

you closed your eyes and whispered a curse to yourself, continuing to film him eat you out like you were the last thing to a meal he'd ever have in his life.

Jimin Park giving you oral has always resulted in you crying. not necessarily crying over any painful entities but how good he's performed on you. no matter how quick, how sloppy, or how painful he's been, he's always been able to make you cum. tears would run down your face from how his fingers would curl inside of you while the tip of his tongue made you twitch from the way it would swirl around your clit. his fingers weren't the biggest but lord, he was blessed by god to have the tongue skills and the perhaps the dick size he has today.

you struggled to keep hold of Jimin's phone while his head was in the midst of your thighs. his teeth grazing along your entrance, his lips sucking at your clit, his tongue joyfully lapping up all of your liquids, all while being caught on camera for later show.

your legs were hung over his bare shoulders, your body quivering, your womanhood aching for a part of him to be inside of you, barely handling his tongue slipping in and out of your entrance. his chin was practically dripping, glistening with your cum, despite the fact that you haven't came just yet. his hands were parked flat on your hips, he just couldn't get tired from pleasing you. he didn't stop working wonders between your legs with only his mouth and fingers, although there's no doubt that his jaw would be sore after this session.

"oh fuck, y-yes Jimin!" you cried out his name, his long, blonde hair tangled within your fingers as your head was thrown back and your thighs were trembling from the stimulation. your mind was in a whole different buzz, you no longer took account of the world around you, only Jimin and his tongue.

your throat never stopped calling out his name, letting breathless whimpers and moans out for him, swearing and groaning because of the way he was making you feel.

he pressed two digits to your folds, feeling your arousal and his saliva pool together. he slowly slid them inside, pulling his lips away and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace, knowing how riled up you'll become. the sloppy, wet sounds of his fingers stroking your walls and your slutty songs filled the room, noisy enough for your neighbours to listen along to what Jimin was doing to you.

"yeah, you like when daddy touches you like this?" he asked before leaving his lips back on your pussy, looking up at you with his dark and sinful eyes. you could barely respond back to him, whining and breathing so consistently. "yes d-daddy.."

you greedily grinded your heat against his fingers, your walls tightening and clenching around his soaked digits, wanting more and more. he glanced up at you as he sucked on your clit so roughly, admiring your flustered body. your furrowed eyebrows, your gaping lips, your hard nipples, he felt so delighted knowing you were in this state because of him. he wanted more of it, he wanted to have you scream his name after this, he needed to feel himself inside of you, your velvet-like walls tight around his cock, his tip smashing into your cervix, he even wanted to watch his cum pour out of you, knowing that was the result of the experienced sex he gave you.

"Jimin faster, p-please.."

wanting you to cum, he sped his pace up, digging his nails into your thigh while loudly groaning into your pussy, biting your sensitive bud out of lust. you moaned the same word over and over again in your head, feeling hot tears stream down your cheeks like usual as he went faster. his fingers curled inside of you, making your body jerk back from the sudden jolt of feeling.

Jimin's phone picked up every dirty sound the two of you made, your moans and groans, whimpers and pants, Jimin's teasing and slurping, the breathing patterns the both of you had. you knew that this video would be better than any of the porn Jimin has watched, with real moans, real feelings, real lust.

"daddy i'm gonna cum!" you exclaimed, sniffing and wiping your tears, your grip on his hair being the tightest it's ever been before. you felt lightheaded, your body began to twitch and tense up, sweating like crazy as you were about to climax on Jimin's fingers. "fuck!"

Jimin pulled his fingers away and replaced them with his tongue, tasting your tangy cum squirt all along his tastebuds. he smiled as he licked your entrance, sticking his tongue inside, feeling your pussy pulse around his tongue.

you paused the recording and threw his phone beside you, pulling him up from between your legs and up to you, immediately getting into a messy and heated french kiss. you both moaned for each other, holding onto each other for dear life. your legs were wrapped around his abdomen, your arm hugging his waist while your hand was practically glued to his hair.

"yeah you like that baby? you like when i eat you out like that?" he moaned in between the kiss, rubbing his pulsating erection against your soaking wet womanhood. "f-fuck yes Jimin!"

you both didn't stop moving your hands everywhere. your fingers roamed from his broad, strong, bare back to his ass, feeling every inch of his body. you began to yank and tug at his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down the farthest you can, letting him kick them off his legs.

you felt his painfully hard cock rub against your lips, sending shivers and excitement throughout your body. he guided his head to your warmth, teasing your folds with his tip. you whined and swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, giving it a little nibble. he finally stopped toying with you and in one swift movement, his length was buried inside of you, balls deep. he slowly began to thrust, your voice already crooning out to him.

your pussy was sensitive from cumming previously, twitching and swollen, but still thirsty for Jimin's cock. you wanted him to make you feel sore after this, limping because of how numb he made your legs feel because of his tongue and member.

his girth stretched your walls without a doubt, clenching around his member like crazy. Jimin's voice raspily let out a groan as he bit your lip, speeding up the pace of his thrusts, listening to your demanding moans as he fucked you. he listened to his hips slamming against your ass, back and forth, hearing and feeling how wet his pelvis was becoming.

"god you're so fucking tight." he breathed so quickly and consistently, his head in a cloud of euphoria from how tight your pussy enclaved his cock. his eyes were screwed shut, his lips fighting with yours, his hips never slowing down. "wet and tight just for me."

you were gasping, moaning Jimin's name over and over again, arching your back as your nails dug into his skin, desperate for him to bring you to your high once more. his tip never stop hitting your g-spot, making you scream out his name, loud enough for everyone to know who he is. every time he rammed into your sweet spot, you felt your body tremble and shudder from how hard he hit, how close it was bringing you to climax. your toes curled, your legs tensing up around his waist while your mouth released moans as you sloppily made out with Jimin.

"who's daddy's girl, {name}? who can't get enough of daddy's cock?" he spoke through clenched teeth, grinning as he watched you struggle to answer, your mouth only letting out cries for Jimin. your vision was impaired, your head was out of signal and everything was a blur, you could only keep your eyes shut tight. your hands stayed in his blonde tresses, your fingers tugging and grabbing as his member pumped in and out of you.

"m-me daddy! i love you so much!"

Jimin bit his lip and began thrusting faster, harder, enjoying the moans and tears you let out for him, all for his dick. continuing to thrust, he peered over at his phone, grabbing it and going straight to the camera.

he threw his lips back onto yours, sucking and biting on the tip of your tongue, taking a snap of the moment. he planted a line of kisses down your jawline and to your neck, leaving love bites and licks on your skin, capturing a picture of that as well. still ramming his cock into you, he got up from your body and handed his phone to you, grabbing your waist and throwing his head back.

knowing exactly what he wanted, you began recording him fuck you, filming him throw your legs back around his waist and thrust into you like there's no tomorrow.

"fuck, yes baby!" he yelled out, putting a thumb on your swollen clit and vigorously rubbing it. you winced and moaned his name louder, tears flooding your eyes from how amazingly rough he fucked you. your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head, bearing his phone became difficult for you but you couldn't stop now. eventually, you wanted everyone to see how good he made you feel, how his dick filled you up, how wet he made you with his mouth. "i love when you look like this, all flustered and sweaty, so close to cumming all over me again."

his thumb rubbed circular patterns into your throbbing bud as he slammed his hips into yours, making your womanhood erupt with pleasure. to you, the room was spinning, you couldn't handle the amounts of pleasure he gave you. with each thrust he gave, his cock went deeper, going hard on your pussy. you felt so close to cumming, releasing all over his pelvis and legs.

"no one will ever fuck this cunt the way i do, baby, i can fuck you better than anyone ever could."

after this, you wanted to reward him for making you feel so euphoric and blissful, for fucking you so good with his tongue, let alone his dick and his fingers. you wanted Jimin to take advantage of you, to take control of your body and your mouth. you wanted him to thrust his cock in between your lips, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke on his length and girth.

Jimin let his jaw hang loose as his thrusts stayed hard but became sloppy. he felt like he was about to explode inside of you, your tight walls never stopped clenching around his member, making him feel hot and so close to cumming.

"fuck, daddy's gonna cum soon baby girl." he moaned for you, biting his lip and leaning over you, grabbing his phone with one hand and your jaw with the other one. he switched to the front camera, recording your tired yet sexy expressions.

"look at me, princess." he demanded, your eyes fluttering open as his lips smashed onto yours once again, engulfing yet another sweet and sloppy kiss with you. he took his hand from your chin, taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, wrapping his lips around a hard nipple while attending the other one with his free hand. you winced and cried out a curse as he sucked, your body beginning to twitch from all the stimulation you received.

your body was covered in cold sweat, knowing your orgasm was about to hit you one more time. Jimin gave you one final thrust before letting you cum and moan each other's names. you squirted on his cock as he came, putting his thrusts to a complete stop and pulling out of you, his warm cum coating your walls while covering your lips. he gave you one final kiss before stopping the recording, pulling away from you and giving you more orders.

"get on your stomach and put your ass in the air for me, baby."

you did as he asked and wondered what he was doing next, only to hear him snap a picture of your creampied state. he watched his cum drip from your folds to the bed sheets, his boner not even close to becoming flaccid. although he figured the two of you were done, you still had one last thing you wanted to do, no, needed to do.

you got up and pulled your shirt over your head, taking his phone and pushing him back into the bed. you went down to his cum-covered cock, taking ahold of it and wrapping your lips around his tip. you took a picture for his safe-keeping and gave his phone back to him, continuing to suck on his head.

"baby, w-what are you doing?"

you grinned as you slowly stroked him, making him groan and throw a hand in your hair. "i'm gonna make you feel as good as you made me feel, daddy. record me doing it too."

he smiled and bit his tongue, eagerly hitting the record button as you took more of his length in your mouth. you slowly began to bring your head up and down, your hand following under your playful lips. although you'd just started, you could already feel his cock twitch in your mouth as if he was about to cum.

"you're a good girl, sucking daddy's cock after getting fucked so hard."

you took him deep in your throat, almost gagging on his dick as his head brushed against the back of your throat. you bobbed your head faster, your lips wrapped around his member tightly. he groaned and ran his fingers through your hair, calmly shimmying his hips against your lips.

as you sucked Jimin's dick, Jimin couldn't help but think about uploading his videos somewhere. he knew there'd be consequences involving you and him, but he didn't care. he wanted the world to know who he belonged to and vice versa. he wanted to make his fangirls quiver and become aroused just by watching him please a girl, making her moan and cry uncontrollably. he wanted boys to see you please him, wishing that you could be under them instead of Jimin. he loved knowing that no one else could have you or your body, every inch of you belonged to Jimin Park.

you groaned as you jerked him off, dragging your tongue up his member. the pace of your hand became faster as you brought your lips down to his balls, sucking on them, hearing him wince from the new feeling he received from it. he muttered your name under his breath, looking at you to deeply stare you straight in the eyes. you took a glimpse at him, his cheeks red, his hair an ungodly mess, and his chest shining from a mixture of sweat and your orgasm.

it was odd, but the way you were in between his legs, his balls in your mouth, looking back up at him seemed not only attractive but cute to him. he was in love with the way your eyes looked big and innocent while his lengthy cock was deep in your throat, making him somewhat confused on whether he should buck his hips into your face and make you gag on his member or not.

you brought your hand up towards his tip, giving him light but fast jerks. Jimin groaned louder than usual, droplets of cum already spilling out of his head.

"oh fuck baby, please keep doing that.."

you didn't want him to release so early, halting your jerking and pulling away. you licked the cum from his tip and combed your hair back with your fingers, bringing your hands to your breasts and massaging them, your eyes staring down Jimin's body, trailing down from his face to his dick. you bent back down to his length, your breasts in your hand, sliding his cock between your boobs. Jimin's eyes excitedly widened, a sly smile growing on his cheeks. surrounding his dick, you kept your tongue stuck out on his head, sliding your breasts up and down on him. he bucked his hips up, whispering under his breath.

the valley between your tits became sticky from his wet member but you didn't care. you only focused on him getting closer and closer to cumming on your face, resulting in him thrusting and humping into your chest. each time his dick hit your tongue, you gave him a little lick, just for tease.

"such a slutty little girl, {name}, fucking daddy with your cute tits." he provoked, making you smile and take him in your mouth once more. "keep doing what you're doing and i'm gonna explode baby!"

he felt close to cumming but wasn't quite there just yet. at this point, he just wanted to take full control, which was exactly what he was going to do. he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head to bob faster on his length. you both moaned as his cock went deep in your throat, Jimin's mouth gaping as you gagged on his tip, his cock twitching, coming closer to an orgasm. each time he thrusted in your mouth, he thrusted into your chest, feeling even more pleasure from you.

he was so close, his hands felt like they could start shaking but he tried his hardest not to. his legs were twitching, his thighs trembling non-stop. he couldn't bare to wait, he needed to cum so badly. he pulled your head off of his dick, shoving your face back in his balls and grabbing your hand, putting it back around his tip.

"make me cum baby-girl."

you slowly nodded your head, dragging your tongue up his aching skin, your hand working on him, just the way he likes it. he threw his head back, rolling his hips against your lips. he panted hard, his grip on your hair tightening, dying to cum already. feeling him twitch so consistently, you got up and put your tongue against his tip, tasting his cum shoot onto your tongue, letting some spill down to your breasts. Jimin sighed of relief, stopping his last recording and giving his cock a final stroke.

enjoying the state you were in, he took a picture of you, his cum still dripping out of your pussy, on your fingers, chest, tongue. he loved it so much, he may as well make it his homescreen.

Jimin pulled you close to him, giving you a soft, passionate kiss. he playfully slapped your ass, making you yelp and nip on his cheek.

"wanna go wash up with me baby?" he asked, his voice raspy and tired. you kissed his neck, nodding your head. before getting up, he pondered in his head if he should ask the question or not, but decided to do so anyways.

"baby, how would you feel about me uploading those videos up, just wondering?"

"go ahead." his eyes widened, surprised by your blunt response. you got up to head for the bathroom, being stopped by him before heading down the hallway. "are you sure, {name}?"

"i said yes, baby. let the world know who's been fucking Jimin Park."

ー

hope u guys enjoyed :)

if u guys are interested in the last part (just a bunch of crack with bts i edited out bc i thought it was too cringy LMAO), feel free to read the rest on my wattpad, @chocolatechanii 💙

[eirikaanemo]

Venti falls in love with an Inazuman rebel. The rebel has no vision, but what they do have is a belief that everyone has an inherent right to live freely. How does Venti know about this rebel in the first place? I honestly have no idea...

Visionless Visionary

Venti x GN!Reader

1.8k Words

Warning: Minor character death mentioned, prayer (if that bothers you)

Disclaimer: I knew next to nothing about Baal when I wrote this, so it may not be an accurate representation of her character.

Inazuma is a mess. That is just a fact now. Baal has suddenly become violent and a danger to her people. So many had done nothing but hold a vision she had bestowed upon them in the first place. And because of that, she struck your cousin down. You can still remember the thump of his lifeless body hitting the ground and the steady tap, tap, tap of Baal’s shoes as she walked away.

She seemed completely unaffected by her actions. You were anything but. The scene played over and over in your nightmares for weeks, and continues to haunt you. So when the rebellion reached out to you for support you were happy to assist. You found out he had just joined their ranks and that’s why he had been targeted.

However, you don’t have a vision so there’s only so much you can do. Of course they always welcome financial support and you gave it to the best of your ability. But you knew there had to be more you could do. So you spoke to some people and it was agreed that you would go to Mondstadt and position Barbatos for his support for your cause.

He hadn’t been seen in centuries, but he was the god of freedom, right? If anyone could help them, it would be him. So with the rebellion’s blessing you took your savings and made the long journey to Mondstadt.

Finding lodging was fairly easy. The people of Mondstadt were more than willing to help you. Especially once they found out what you were there to do. ‘Such a great and admirable cause,’ they said. ‘May Barbatos bless you!’ And all you could do was hope he did.

You prayed every morning and every night for help for your people. The heavens seemed quiet, but you didn’t let that dissuade you. Surely your sheer persistence would make a difference, you reasoned. And so you kept on.

One night, rather early on, you ran into a bard not long after your evening prayer. He had been not too far from the statue and you were captivated by the beauty of the song he played. It was ancient Inazuman and for just a moment you were able to forget and be caught up in the memories of better days.

When the song ended you were disappointed and tried not to pout. Judging from the laugh the bard let out when he saw you, it must have still shown on your face. “Did you like the song?” He asks. “I know I didn’t play for long. Would you like to hear another?”

“I would love to,” you admit. He smiles and simply starts on another song, this one also of Inazuma origin. From there he transitions into a more Mondstadtian style, singing The Ballad of Freedom. You know it well, as it’s a favorite of many of the rebels. As the last note fades he turns back to you.

“What brings you here, I wonder. Has it to do with your country being torn asunder?” He inquires.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’ve come to ask Lord Barbatos for his assistance in our cause. We fight for freedom from Baal, who has become nothing but a tyrant. As for me personally, well, she killed my cousin right in front of me. Her only reasons being the vision she bestowed upon him herself not many years ago and his belief that what she was doing was wrong. No one should have to suffer that.”

“Indeed, it seems you have a need. Your cause is just and swords you thrust. But the archons don’t just help everyone, so prove to him you’re worthy of some.”

“But how do I do that?” You question the cryptic bard.

“You’ll see in time, dear friend of mine!” He winks and you find your face warming. “Though I have a question if you don’t mind. Is the assistance you’re seeking a vision like mine?” He taps the glowing turquoise vision sitting on his belt by his hip.

“No,” you shake your head. “After what happened to my cousin, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with a vision. For me they’ve been nothing but trouble.” He nods in understanding.

“I see how that would be. I must take my leave for now, we’ll see each other later anyhow.” And he’s off into the night.

He’s right that this is far from the last time you see him. And he’s right that you start noticing the tests that Barbatos has set before you. More and more people seek your help in one thing or another, especially since the one they call “honorary knight” left to Liyue. There’s much to do, but you’re happy to help them.

Eventually you stop helping them because it’s a test and start helping them because you want to; because it’s the right thing to do. You help Lisa organize the library. You help Barbara clean the cathedral. You help Amber keep watch. You help Venti with his performances from time to time. You stand in for Diluc’s barkeep while he recovers from an illness.

Days and days have passed and your relationship with Venti grows and grows. You notice more and more things about him that you rather like. His laugh. His eyes. His hands. His music. His sense of humor. His optimism.

Really, everything about him is amazing. You try to deny it at first. But you know deep down that you’re falling in love. And you’re seeing some hints that he might be too. Lots of them, because he’s started flirting with you almost constantly.

However, as your relationship grows, your hope dwindles. It’s been weeks! You’ve helped so many people and have prayed so many times. And yet you have not received an answer. Not even an acknowledgement that he has heard.

When you express your concern and discouragement to Venti, he is very concerned. “I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay,” you explain. “While I would hate to return empty handed, I can’t stay here forever.”

“Try just one more time, for me?” he asked you, looking a little guilty despite not having reason to be. It’s not like he was keeping Barbatos from speaking with you. As if he could sense your hesitance he sweetened the deal. “If you do, I’ll give you a kiss!” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and flashed you a mischievous smile and you felt a warm blush bloom on your face.

“Alright,” you grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll try one more time.” His resulting cheer and more cheery smile were nearly enough to have made you do it by themselves.

That night you approached his statue, feeling unreasonably nervous compared to the nights before. “Lord Barbatos,” you prayed. “I seek thy assistance for my people’s cause. We seek the freedom thou dost represent. Someday may we all be free to live our lives reasonably, but as we please. This is my vision, my hope. Please, if it be thy will, let thy winds be not still. Guide us to better days, for this is what I pray.”

You stay there for a long moment, waiting. Then, the wind picks up and you hear a voice from it. It seems vaguely familiar but you can’t quite figure out why.

“Your diligence and passion for your cause has secured my blessing,” the winds whispered. “My winds will be at your back and support your cause. However, if you accept a vision despite your fears, you will be able to do far more. The wind will whisper secrets to your ears. All plans spoken will be carried to your ears.

“You need not fight with it. Trust in me, that I will not strike you down for accepting this gift. In your time here in my home I have found you to be a friend to us so I will be a friend to you.”

You feel tears come to your eyes. “I accept,” you whisper. This will be incredibly valuable.There’s no way you could turn it down. And this is the kind of god you can trust and accept a vision from. He is as kind, generous, and benevolent as his people.

After a moment of silence, the winds calm and a gleaming turquoise vision lies before you, dangling from a necklace like a pendant. It’s smaller than some others you’ve seen and is hidden easily when you slide it over your head and under your shirt. That will be invaluable when you return to Inazuma. It would be most suspicious for you to return with one after everything that’s happened.

You take another moment to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. Then you take a particularly deep breath to steady yourself and make your way back to Venti. “How did it go?” He asks, and you smile in response.

“It went very well,” you said, pulling the pendant out to show him your new vision. “Now we match! Now… I believe I was promised a kiss?”

The smile on his face at your teasing words could have lit up a room, if you were in one. He took your hands in his and tugged you closer gently before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was a pleasant kiss, chaste but lingering and sweet.

He giggled at the face you made when he pulled away. You joined it, adding your laughter to his. Between the blessing and his kiss you felt like you were on top of the world. Then you remembered something that brought you down from your high.

“Venti, you know this means I have to leave now, right?” You inquire.

His face fell to a serious and thoughtful expression before it softened and he sent you a small smile. “Yeah, I know. You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” you respond softly. “I love you too.”

He nods. “Then I’ll wait for you. So don’t take too long, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll do what I can,” you reply.

Your parting is sad, but hopeful as he waves you goodbye until you’re so far away that he can’t see you. He sings nearly nothing but sappy love songs for the next week. He misses you, but knows you’ll be back. His winds won’t let anything happen to you after all.

When you return to Inazuma you find that all the rebels with anemo visions had their power boosted, the ships sailed swifter with the wind behind them, and the information the wind brought you gave you many victories. The struggle was still difficult, but the help you had obtained made a serious difference and soon enough you were headed back to Mondstadt.

You are headed home. After all, home is where the heart is.

tag list: @clouds-rambles

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Tom & Sabine (Commission for miner249er)

This is a sequel to Revolt of the Akuma, also a commission from @miner249er this will be multichaptered! 

Summary: Sequel to Revolt of the Akuma. How Paris and everyone there deals with Marinette’s akumatization and the many things born from it.

Previous Work                                                              Next Chapter

Business was slow but that somehow became the normal for Tom and Sabine, at first they resented it, they truly were busy bodies and they loved to work, needed to work, but then Marinette was akumatized and disappeared. Their baby girl was gone and it felt like there truly was nothing they could do about it. The worst part was they hadn’t even realized she was the akuma at first, they didn’t know things at school had been so bad that Hawkmoth was able to take advantage of their little Baguette’s emotions, and they hadn’t been there to help her through it. Their days seemed routine now, they would wake up at 3 AM instead of their regular 4 AM because of the guilt and the nightmares, they would prep the kitchen then Tom would start on the bread with his father Roland helping out since everything had taken its toll on Tom and he started to become forgetful in things to do with the bakery, even his timing was off. Meanwhile Sabine would attempt to do her morning meditation. The meditation was never successful nowadays because she truly could not clear her mind or calm her heart and memories of Marinette both good and bad would surface and she would be thrown into a fit of sobs that Gina tried her best to help calm. 

Roland learned the hard way that he no longer could hum his and his son’s song while making bread as it had reminded his son too much of Marinette and the larger man would break down in tears if he even heard the slightest bit of the song. He would call out for his daughter while hugging whatever he had in his hands close to his chest. Roland had never been the most affectionate of father’s, he wasn’t even affectionate with his wife, but when he broke down like that, Roland felt the urge to just hold his boy and comfort him. It pained him to see his son in so much pain, but Tom and Sabine were strong people and they picked themselves up in order to get through the day. 

Well, they tried their best and really that’s all anyone expected of the grieving parents. The day Marinette was akumatized and disappeared had been a normal day for them and maybe that’s what filled them with so much guilt. Their bakery was always busy and that was something they took pride in, before Marinette was born, the bakery had been their baby. They made it, helped and watched it grow, and they got to see it flourish. It was a lot of work and sometimes they would just get into this work zone where nothing else could grab their attention. Working with so many ovens and having to prepare so many things, there was only so much you could multitask before your brain felt full. Though those were only excuses, they had been neglecting their daughter and hadn’t realized it. Marinette knew how much they loved their bakery and how busy it could get and she always seemed to understand but now looking back on it maybe she had just pretended to be fine with it all. They tried their best to always ask how her day was when they would all have dinner together, but Tom would be the first to admit that sometimes even that just became routine rather than actual curiosity about their daughter’s day. 

They had deluded themselves into believing that Marinette’s world was rose tinted, and they had taken comfort in the lie. Maybe they truly just wanted to believe that Marinette was their always smiling baby girl and she had no problems to worry about because it would be easier to deal with than the reality. When Marinette had become fascinated with fashion and that fascination grew, Sabine and Tom had been happy and supportive of their daughter, yes their hearts hurt a bit since they had hoped that maybe she would take over the bakery for them, but then they noticed how much time her designing took up. It hurt to think about now but Sabine could remember thinking that it was a blessing that Marinette was distracted and busy because it meant they had more time for the bakery. The more they remembered their shortcomings, the more they felt. They felt too much now after not being able to for so long because of Hawkmoth.

After having to shut down any and all negative emotions, finally being able to express them was like breaking a dam. Crying was never just a little tears, it was always these heart wrenching sobs and it could be for the littlest of things like a broken toy or missing a bus. Anger, now anger was the scariest in everyone's opinion, once someone started yelling it was like they couldn’t stop, they would break things, maybe hoping to see a butterfly, then there was the crying. Everything ended in tears. Anger came quickly nowadays, more so than sadness, though maybe they worked hand in hand now. Tom had found himself more on the depressed side of things, everything made him miss his little Baguette, sometimes he still expected to hear her footsteps racing down from her room and out the door with a shout because she was running late. Sabine on the other hand, everything just made her angry, every little thing. She would even snap at Tom but she would immediately apologize because she knew it wasn’t his fault. If anything she was angry at herself, angry at the school, at Hawkmoth, Hell, even at their bakery.

 Some days she hated waking up to the work and the mingling, there were times where she was so close to just begging her husband to closing the shop for a while and taking a break or maybe closing it permanently. She hadn’t decided yet, but she just told herself to hold on, just hold on till their closing period or ‘vacation time’ as Marinette would say. Perhaps that was the reason why she wasn’t really giving it a serious thought, the whole giving up their boulangerie idea. It held memories, both good and heart-aching, of Marinette. Sabine would never talk about those memories with anyone but family now, but everytime she was working she couldn’t help but look over at their ‘Artisan Boulanger’ sticker at their storefront that was slightly crooked because Tom had been putting it on when Sabine had told him she was pregnant and he had slipped in shock and the sticker was forever a bit crooked. She couldn’t help the way her hands would clench over a box or bag when giving a customer their things, Marinette had designed them and each time she handed them over it felt like she was giving away a little piece of her daughter each time. 

“Have a wonderful day.” Sabine muttered to the latest customer of the day not even caring that her voice came out monotone.

“You as well! Merci Madame.” The young boy who had come in thanked her but Sabine just watched impassively as he hurried over to his friend. “Dude can you believe it? We get to eat pastries that the Protector ate!”

“Correction, we get to eat pastries that Ladybug ate.” His friend responded.

“That hasn’t been proven yet. That’s all just speculation man.” The first boy laughed as they made their way to the door and Sabine had to take in a deep breath or else she might have thrown something. How dare they come into their shop and talk about their daughter as though she wasn’t a person. How dare they treat her akumatization as some spectacle for them to worship and admire. How dare them all.

“Speculation? You are sorely mistaken bro, look at all the evidence! I’ll send you all the links then you’ll see.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Sabine just stared at the young men even after they had left until she no longer could make them out. This. This was why she no longer wanted the bakery, it no longer held the same joy it had when Marinette was there and Sabine and Tom hadn’t even known it until she was gone. 

“Bonjour Madame.” Sabine was ripped from her musings by another customer walking in, a regular in fact, Mlle Josephine Bernard. She had been coming to their boulangerie since they first opened and had always been very kind to Marinette. In fact, she commissioned Marinette a few times as well.

“Bonjour Joséphine." Sabine greeted with a small smile, the most she could manage.

“One rhubarb tart please and a pain de campagne. I’m making stew tonight and my fiance loves when I pair it with your bread.” Joséphine said with a kind smile as she took out her money and change and placed it on the saucer on the counter.

Sabine couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped, Joséphine always had exact change and honestly it was a welcome habit to Sabine. “Are you going to share the tart for dessert? It is small, are you certain you would like just one?”

“Oh no, that’s just for me. Our little secret okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sabine promised as she swiftly gathered Joséphine’s order, once she made her back to the counter to hand everything to the woman she was caught off guard when said woman placed her hand on top of Sabine’s.

“How are you holding up Sabine?” 

First instincts were yelling at her to lie, to say everything was fine despite everyone knowing it was not, but another part of her was yearning for reassurance that wasn’t from her husband or his parents. “I...I’m trying. But it’s hard. It’s hard when people come in and talk about my daughter as if she’s this thing that is more than human, more than just a teenager. They don’t even say her name anymore. Tom and I have had to move and lock away her things because...because people have broken in and stolen her belongings in order to steal or collect them. The police have been no help on that front. They told us to just get better locks. As if it is our fault that people are breaking in.” Sabine took in a shaky breath before continuing, “We get people who leave “gifts” instead. They are letters to Tom and I, accusing us of abusing Marinette...of neglecting our baby. They seem to think we don’t care about what happened to her Joséphine. We’ve had to replace some windows after one incident with a rock and some spray paint.”

“Oh my goodness Sabine! I’m so sorry. You and Tom don’t deserve any of that.” Joséphine gasped out, but Sabine wanted to argue that maybe they did. “That is just cruel and disgusting. If you two ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask, or if you just need to talk or get out of the house for awhile, call me okay? Things...things will get better.”

“Merci Joséphine...maybe I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your treats and tell me how Stephan likes everything okay?” Sabine responded after a while.

“I will...I will keep you and Tom and Marinette in my prayers. Merci Madame.” Joséphine said before leaving. 

Sabine’s movements felt robotic as she walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign letting everyone know they would be closing for lunch. It was a small mercy that they were already at the middle of their day. Thankfully Roland and Gina would have lunch ready for them, they had been so helpful through everything but sometimes Sabine couldn’t help but feel like even they blamed Tom and Sabine for what happened to Marinette. Sabine knew how much Gina adored Marinette and she could see how much getting to know Marinette had meant to Roland, to have their granddaughter gone so all of a sudden, they too were grieving in the way they best knew how. They parented and distracted themselves with helping out Tom and Sabine as much as they could, that would be why they were staying with them. She knew how Roland was about them being late to lunch so Sabine made her way to the kitchen to see Tom baking but it looked like he was doing everything on autopilot, she wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t even heard Joséphine come in. 

“Tom. Sweetheart. It’s lunchtime, let’s go eat with your parents.” She mumbled as she placed a soft hand on Tom’s shoulder stopping him from decorating the last of the cupcakes he had made. 

“Oh...Lunchtime already?”

“Yeah. Here let me put those on display then we’ll head on up.” She took the tray of cupcakes gently from him and went out to the front again to put them on display where she saw several people looking in their shop. She decided to just ignore them...and the camera flashes, though maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pull the security gates down just while they were upstairs for lunch. In fact that’s exactly what she did. “Ready to head up dear?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, ready. Let’s go eat. It’s been a long morning.” Tom said with a small smile. She felt like it was more for her benefit but she still appreciated it all the same. Once they went upstairs they went through the motions of eating lunch and if someone asked Tom and Sabine what they had eaten, they wouldn’t have been able to answer, but they gave the obligatory remarks of, “This is so good thank you,” and,” So good. Maybe you can make it again sometime.” Maybe Roland and Gina saw through them, they probably had and the fact they made no comment about it truly was a blessing. As a way to avoid conversation if they needed to Sabine turned on the television and it just so happened to be the news.

“And as promised viewers video footage of The Protector in action. This footage was donated to us by an anonymous source who had happened upon The Protector out in the open when she was akumatized. I want to warn everybody, the footage may be shocking to some viewers. Roll the clip please.” Nobody spoke. How could they? Sure they knew people still had some weird fascination with their daughter and granddaughter’s akumatization but the news stations had stopped reporting on it or at least they thought they had. Nadja certainly hadn’t given them a heads up about this little ‘special’ of theirs like she had done previously, and yet here they were watching her and Alec talking about their daughter and they wouldn’t even say her name. She has a name. Sabine robotically pressed on the remote to see more info on the program and had to swallow back bile, ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ that was the title and already Sabine could feel her anger rising. She didn’t bother reading the summary, she already knew what this special was about.

 She watched as her daughter, her baby girl, bent down in a patch of butterfly bushes crying her eyes out, sobbing out her hurt for anyone and everyone to hear. Her baby, even in the distance of the camera, looked so angry, so torn, she should never had to have felt like that. The video continued on with this person slowly zooming in on Marinette and Sabine had to wonder why this person was recording at all. She could never understand people’s obsessions with filming akumas, at least many filmed from a distance other than Alya and sometimes Nadja but it was always after the fact the person was akumatized. Maybe that’s why this particular video was bothering her so much, this person, whoever they were, they were filming her daughter breaking down because they knew at any moment she would be akumatized or, and the idea made her sick to her stomach, they were hoping she would be akumatized. They were hoping for a chance to have a video go viral, maybe they weren’t  but that’s the only thing that Sabine could rationalize why they would be filming her teenage daughter in the first place.

The video was a bit shaky as it seemed like the person filming didn’t want to be seen even though there was no one else there. Sabine hadn’t realized she started crying until she felt the tears hit her hand. She hated seeing Marinette in pain and her not being able to comfort her. She, her husband, and his parents watched with bated breath as they saw an akuma finally fly into frame and slowly make its way towards Marinette. Sabine wanted to shout out a warning, do something, but she  knew it was pointless and that just made the tears fall more. Everyone watching could tell that Marinette hadn’t noticed the akuma at all as she was still sobbing and wailing, Sabine could feel Tom squeeze her hand and she squeezed his right back. Then the akuma landed and merged but that wasn’t the shocking part, they had to watch their daughter stare at nothing with too-wide eyes and the familiar symbol of Hawkmoth over her face sit there as dozens...no, maybe hundreds of butterflies, white butterflies surrounded Marinette and landed on her body. 

Then a bright light flashed, it was so unlike any akumatization anyone had seen, the butterflies were gone but if you looked closely at the fading light surrounding Marinette you could see the faint flutter of wings. Then she stood up, the Protector stood up. Sabine sobbed and not for the first time cursed at her daughters classmates, they had been around Marinette the most, they knew her daughter, she did everything for them and yet they treated her like that. To the point of akumatization. Sabine prayed that her little girl wasn’t actually Ladybug like it was speculated, even if it made sense, because that would mean her daughter had been suffering through more than just everything going on at school and really, Sabine wasn’t ready to face all of that just yet.

“Now before we discuss everything in that video I will say we do have many more to share so stay tuned Paris!”

Next Chapter

[swimmingleo]

Changes: or to take the higher ground before it's too late

I'm going to be real here folks, I cry ugly tears to this song. Bad.

Changes is a song on Cam's album "The Otherside". It's country, it's folk and it's an album a bit influenced by changes in Cam's life (a change of label, personal life). She collaborated with Harry on the song Changes, as she opened for him on a venue and was already working with Tyler Johnson.

From what I gathered: Harry sent her the demo of the song, implying he made most of the writing on this one. What I'm basing this claim on is her interview for Rolling Stones (read it here):

I heard [the demo] and was just like, “Oh, this ache to outgrow something that you don’t want to outgrow!” It felt so good. I normally don’t take outside songs [...]

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️when analysing this song, I'm gonna go from the idea of it being written with a queer mindset (how surprising of me). Cam rendered the song beautifully and it is very much her own, but I believe Harry's input is consequential. After all that's his lil whistle and cute fishsona in the MV.

Sad queer analysis ahead.

Let's analyse the lyrics first:

There is a town

Somewhere down a country road

The speaker describes the town to us, from memory, from experience. "There it is, down the road, can you picture it ?"

I see it now

I take it everywhere I go

The speaker doesn't currently live in the town, they're on the move (nice throwback to the coutry road). But despite all the travelling, they realize the sedentary smalltown never leaves them. It's part of them. It left a mark on them.

The river sways, I can almost hear it now

As if to say, "You're not the only one who wants a way out"

The town is so real to the speaker they can sense it, eyes and ears. But it gets a bit dark: the river sways like it's trying to leave its bed. The river is envious of the speaker who managed to leave. The town is so toxic even nature wants to get away from it. Or the speaker resents the town so bad that they project their own resentment on the river.

So, I go

'Cause I don't wanna feel like I don't know you anymore

I memorize those roads

This is the call for the speaker to leave for good. Their motive doesn't seem to be ambitious or anything grand. They leave because they apprehend a feeling. Apprehending a feeling, something that may not even happen, is the way of an anxious person. Anxiety is the motive of their departure. However, they still memorize the roads leading to the town, just in case. Perhaps one day they'll come back.

Somewhere out in the big wild country

Someone's fallin' in love in a backseat

Givin' it away

Like their hearts won't ever break

Suddenly it's about love ! Young love, one that is lived in the small compartment of a car, somewhere hidden and safe in the big wild country. As if the countryside was unexplored and threatening.

God bless the young hearts sippin' cheap wine

Gettin' drunk with their friends for the first time

Thinkin' nothing's gonna change

'Til everything changes

The speaker looks at the youth with tenderness, wishing them the best. But once again, they're not in the town in the present time, they don't see the youngsters fooling around, they can only guess from first-hand experience. And it's very specific: falling in love, getting drunk with friends and thinking everything's gonna be easy like that forever until it's not and heartbreak ensues.

From there I hop in with the raw queer theme of those lyrics. It started by falling in love and it ended up in a heartbreak. In between, the speaker got drunk for the first time with their friends, people they trusted enough to let go a little, but in the end everything changed. Why ? Alcohol makes you forget about code of conduct, how you're supposed to behave. It makes you say or do things you might not have done sober.

We can interprete this chorus as the beginning of the end for the speaker. It's the only part of the song evocating the past, and it's fun and easy, but it's also where things started to get bad the way they are in the present. Something might have happened that first time the speaker got drunk and it marked the end of innocence and careless childhood, and it probably has to do with love as no other factor is provided apart from falling in love and heartbreak.

They never leave

They're all havin' babies now

Watchin' daytime TV

Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town

They. With Harry, it's always You, Me, and They. They are having babies, all of them, like it's not a very difficult thing to do, it's just natural. They have the leisure of the day, not a thing to worry about, if not gossip. It's not implied anymore, the small town is downright cruel. Gossip fuels it, but on behalf of someone else, and that someone is most definitely the speaker who left and who describes its inhabitants in the most mundane way, perhaps with a hint of contempt. The speaker seems bitter.

So, I go

'Cause I don't wanna feel like you don't know me anymore

Don't recognize my face

Reprise of the pre-chorus except now, the speaker provides another reason for their departure. Not only they feared they wouldn't know the town anymore, they also feared being seen as a stranger. It's not like the speaker actually changed physically: but it might as well feel like it. Again, apprehension, anguish. As implied in the chorus, things changed to the point where the speaker feels they would seem like a whole another person to the rest of the town, a stranger, a threat to the integrity of the conservatives. So they leave before this shift in perception can happen.

There ain't nothing here for me anymore

They say they don't hear from me anymore

And I don't wanna hear it anymore

The town is not outwardly hostile. It's still the town that saw the speaker as a kid. The town doesn't understand why the speaker left, but the speaker won't give in and get in touch. They want to be as far away as possible, until they don't hear the questions, the river, everything. It's almost like the speaker doesn't carry the town in their heart at all. They want to forget it all, and it hurts everytime the town tries to lure them back in. The way Cam sings it is painful to me man

Somewhere out in the big wild country

I was fallin' in love in a backseat

Givin' it away

Like my heart won't ever break

Had such a young heart sippin' cheap wine

Gettin' drunk with my friends for the first time

Thinkin' nothing's gonna change

'Til everything changes

Yeah, just the confirmation of the chorus being the speaker's experience. I went ahead and assumed it was already lol but it's like a plot twist effect. It's dramatic. It's a personal song to someone.

TO MAKE IT SHORT to me this song is intense and very in touch with the queer experience. Though it describes a specific situation, it is surprisingly not that detailed or full of metaphors the way Harry often writes: this town could be literally any smalltown in the countryside. The backseat could be the one of any car, cheap wine is something any teen can afford. I like to think Harry wrote it for himself but is also aware so many people went through the same thing, and still will. I have to admit I'm heavily biased writing this, as the experience of a queer kid struggling to find their place in a well settled smalltown is familiar.

GETTING DRUNK AND QUEER IDENTITY is an analogy Harry already used in Fine Line when he sang "We'll get the drinks in so I'll get to thinking of her". To drink is to let go, to unveil the most subconscious aspects of yourself you might not want to deal with otherwise. You don't care about judgement and you get to explore those parts freely. In Changes, this is the last memory they recall before stating the changes and their departure. Perhaps getting drunk for the first time would be when they realized they're queer. Or acted upon it, causing their little world to shake. They chose to leave before it eventually wouldn't feel like a choice anymore. There is no life for people like them in a cruel smalltown.

SMALLTOWN BOY

This song reminds me an awful lot of Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat. The song is about a queer boy having to leave the smalltown where he grew up because of persecutions and no future prospects.

Mother will never understand why you had to leave, Smalltown Boy

They say they don't hear from me anymore, Changes

But the answers you seek will never be found at home, the love that you need will never be found at home

There is nothing here for me anymore

Other people not understanding why they leave. People who can't truly empathize even when they mean no harm. They would never understand the speaker's departure, because those people get to find love and have babies and live a peaceful life in the countryside.

You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down

Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town

Yeah yeah. I really struggle with just seeing this song as nostalgia when such harsh words are being used. I do believe there is a part of fondness for that town, that countryside setting and the early days. But it's not all tender memories.

CHANGES AND ERODA

Of couuuurse we all noticed the adorable purple fish with the pearl necklace. It represents Harry, no question, as it whistles Harry's part. And of couuuuurse we all made the link with the erodian fish, and some even noticed they formed the bluegreener pair when their colors are inverted.

It makes sense for those fishes to be connected with this interpretation of Changes. Both works are about a small town, lost in the nature, where the people are watching, aware of everything that isn't normal, that is peculiar. The early life of the peculiar boy is similar in every way to the early life of the speaker in Changes. The fish in Adore You grows too big for the island and has to leave, and though Eroda makes amends with the peculiar boy, he leaves as well because his future, his fulfilment, is somewhere else. So does the speaker in Changes.

IN CONCLUSION

The more I write posts like this, the more endeared I am by Harry's world. How Harry writes for himself, but also for other people with songs like this. How nature finds its way in all that he does. How grounded he is, how he doesn't seem to forget where he came from. It really is such a rare thing to see in a mainstream popstar's writing and art. How can someone say he sold his soul to LA is beyond me