#ehe its been a while since i wrote
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cheriihoney · 1 year ago
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Back from the dead because i was busy with internship but im free now.
I thought i would leave behind genshin impact but wRIOTHESLEY GOT ME BY THE NECK,,,,,HES SO HANDSOME,,,, SO QUICK THING FOR YANDERE!WRIOTHESLEY AND MAID!READER
Have not played the latest archon quest. I only know that wriothesley is hot so bear with me here ^^
EDIT: just took out some repeating dialogue, sorry it took a while to notice!!
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You’re one of the braver maids, or one of the more dumber oness, for accepting a job to work in an underwater fortress. To be perfectly honest the place isn’t so bad if you ignore how cold and lonesome it is. The other maids barely raising their voices above a whisper when the lord of the fortress is there. They were afraid. It is common knowledge that beyond his role of subduing criminals he is a kind, gentle and noble man with the way children flock to him to clumsily honor his gauntlets with stickers. And yet, despite knowing this it is difficult to be in his presence. Tall, dark, foreboding and handsome. People who come across him are at crossroads with how they are intimidated by his presence and how enamored they are with it.
With you however, youre just doing a job as his ‘official’ personal maid. Originally you were a simple new hire and as one of your first tasks, you were expected to take care of his grace after a long grueling day at work. Other maids were too skittish to do it. For fear of doing something wrong or being caught oogling at their employer. You didn’t have any personal feelings towards his grace. Aside from being thankful that he employed you, payed and gave a roof over your head. You owe it to your philosophy of not sticking your nose where it shouldn’t be. Silently dressing Wriothesley’s wounds from a particularly bad brawl that day. A large gash was inflicted on hjim, luckily it wasn’t deep and didn’t require stitches. Basic empathy made you feel concerned and made extra sure that before the he arrived home, you lit a soothing lavender candle in his room to help him relax.
“Lighting a candle for me isn’t necessary” Wriothesley murmured. The sudden statement made you drop the roll of bandages in surprise, not expecting the lord of the fortress to speak to you. You quickly picked up the roll from the floor, setting it in back in the medical kit.
“Of course your grace” You replied carefully. You werent afraid of him, hes just a guy to you but still. This man is your boss and you did something that he didnt ask you to do. Potentially you could get scolded, or worse. Fired.
“It is presumptious of me but I thought it would be good for you if I lit a lavender scented candle before your arrival. Given that you came back injured and that you’re an extremely hard worker” your palms were sweating profusely under his steel gaze. He may be sititng in his chair while you stood by his side, but even then he still held all the power in the room.
Those short, excruciating, moments of him staring into your eyes when you gave your reasoning gave you ample time to overthink that you were booted out of the job. It must’ve been the trick of the eye when something carnal and possessive glinted in his eyes. Before you could think on it more he turned away and grabbed his newspaper in front of him.
“I see. You may go” Was all he said, turning a page. You bowed deeply before politely skedaddling away from him. As you turned the door knob his voice broke the silence again. This time, his voice sounded a tad softer.
“Thank you. It was kind of you to do that”
Stunned by his gratitude, your mouth refused to form words. Instead you noddedly dumbly with a nervous smile to match and promptly left the study. Unaware of the brewing affections that you ignited in Wriothesley.
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cherry-shipping · 2 years ago
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goddamn i gotta figure out what the hell my horrortale self insert does in the underground. i know everything about their life before that and HOW they get there but i have no idea what the fuck they do once theyre actually DOWN there
also i ran out of tags im saying this here as an addition so you know why they just sorta end abruptly. lol. everyone say thank you to my habit of talking in the tags cause i dont want people to see the shit i say
#cherry chats#i wrote down all their rich lore i dont think i ever posted it and i doubt i ever will#not cause i dont wanna in fact its the opposite but itd basically be a huge trauma dump and theres not a person on earth whod wana hear that#and i also wouldnt wanna subject anyone to that cause its not really their problem lol#not that i mind talking about it or whatever. but still itd put whoever this theoretical person im tellin it to in an uncomfortable position#so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bottom line is evil shit hospital -> escapes and is chased up the mountain -> jumps down a big hole lawl#but anyway i have no idea what the fuck they do once theyre down there#i mightve said this already but theyre really resilient towards the conditions down there? theyve never eaten real food and they dont feel#hunger (arfid yo 👍) so if you tried to give them proper food theyd be like. i dont know what to do with this ?#and theyre used to the cold cause of how shit that goddamn hospital was so even when theyre going through snowdin barefoot theyre like.#ok this is fine ^_^#theyre also used to physical pain and also theyre on 800 different messed up meds so if they get hurt that hardly bothers them#its like. a numb sort of pain. like the phantom pains you get when you get injured or killed in a dream#they also think sans is really funny even when he tries to get under their skin with morbid humor#their whole existence is basically morbid so theyre just like hehehe ^_^ your funny#BUT NONE OF THAT EXPLAINS WHAT THE HELL THEY DO IN THE UNDERGROUND!!!!!!!!!#i guess for starters theres no way theyd ever wanna go BACK to the surface so jot that down#i guess. maybe since they wouldnt have access to the medication and drugs theyre always on theyd change?#i think theyd go from a foggy detached empty dissociative state to being actually AWARE for once#after theyve been there for a little while maybe theyd even start. brace yourselves. FEEL things#like uh. emotions. and stuff like that#so instead of an empty miserable shell theyd be able to experience excitement or curiosity. or the human emotion called friendship#do they……… live with sans and papyrus? thatd make the most sense i guess#also thats the only place theyd be safe from being eaten alive lol#i guess they could live with toriel? maybe they go back to the ruins after theyve escaped#but then they couldnt hang out with sans and papyrus as much. and thats lame#maybe they live with the skelebros under the guise of being some sort of weird. pet or something#ummm. nah……. thats weird#ok so i guess i dont know what the hell my self insert does in the underground only how they change when they grt there. whatever#its not like im a WRITER. i dont know all this stuff what do you thinj i am omniscient????
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your-local-asylum-escapee · 6 months ago
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I'm pretty sure i was having a stroke whan i wrote this but eh idc
anyways-, i know for a fact that since merlin is an immortal among the mortal plane he tries not to get too attached to things but him being 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 and since 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 has a small amount of magic in them he really can't help himself and adopts a dog every now and then
at first he doesn't give them names cuz yk attachment issues AND he really doesn't know how to name it? UNTIL
one day he sees a dog wandering near a pub. At first he just kinda feeds him as he does most of the time he meets stray dogs but this one never left him alone and i mean NEVER
it follows him around literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 and at first it was a little annoying but after some time he kinda appreciated the company
Merlin and Leon meet at a pub to catch up with each other and talk about what tthey've been up to (im a very firm believer of the 𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭 theory, you can never change my mind about it)
obviously, the dog is still there and Leon is quite amused with the dog and asks what his name was but before Merlin could come up with an excuse on why he didn't name him, a bar fight starts and they accidentally get roped into it
the dog is actually pretty helpful in fighting the random men by biting their kneecaps and what not, but then one of the men kicks the dog effectively injuring it and the dog passes out
when the three of them get out of the fight they head to Merlin's home where they heal the dog until it wakes up with its tail wagging happily at Merlin
He suddenly feels a sense of deja vu and when he realizes why he laughs, Leon's a little concerned and asks why he's laughing, merlin tells the story of how he met Gwaine
Leon chuckles while he pets the dog and jokingly says something along the lines of "well, welcome back Gwaine" and right after that they decide to name him Gwaine
After that whenever Merlin gets a new dog they joke about whose personality it fits closest to their old friends,
time goes by and they run out of names to name the dogs so they just think of the things they miss back then as names, for example: blueberry tarts, silverpine, tourneys, etc. (merlin kept suggesting food and nature as names while leon suggested festivals and places as names)
eventually, Leon suggests the name Albion for a dog 𝘩𝘦 found this time, after running out of kingdoms and estates to use as a name
at some point Albion gets badly injured and i mean 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥, for some reason Merlin doesn't use magic because its been a long time since he did and he kinda didn't trust himself
Leon and Merlin take him to a vet where they meet a dude that looks like Arthur. Well it turns out it is him considering that when he actually makes eye contact with one of them he freezes and and nearly shouts "𝘔𝘌𝘙LIN?! 𝘓𝘌𝘖𝘕??"
they reunite and everything and bla bla bla and then they get emotional and stuff
and then Kilgharrah's voice pops outa nowhere in Merlin's mind ".. 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝘼𝙡𝙗𝙞𝙤𝙣'𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣.."
albion, the dog, is just happy to be healed again and just be there, witnessing the wonderful reunion
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addicted-to-dc · 7 months ago
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Jekyll/Hyde - Taskforce 141 x Reader
Okay, didn't like the first fic I wrote so here's this one instead lmao. Still figuring out team dynamics... but I can't wait to explore moreeee.
Tags for those who encouraged me to write this. Thank you!!! @greeniegreengreen @aeilani @poetslastdeath (Thanks for the writing prompt!! Imma go crazier with it soon)
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Content Warnings: Typical CoD violence, ptsd, reader is going to be unhinged (even more so in the next chapters).
“She’s not a good fit.” You were waiting for the line; another iteration of the same denial you’ve encountered everywhere you go. “It’s all solo work, can she even work with a team?”
Your throat burns at the statement. Despite the stabbing pain with each demeaning sentence, you can’t help but continue eavesdropping. Your file has lies written on nearly every page, all the ‘solo missions’ redacted and sealed so tightly even you couldn’t read them.
“John.”
Laswell is too kind to you, too stubborn, somehow seeing right through your heavily defended psyche. Playing matchmaker with the 141 is a mistake. These men don’t need you. You’re disposable, belonging nowhere yet everywhere. They already have a psychotic on the team, the position has been filled since the damned taskforce was created.
“Ignore the files, look at her.” The fucking PowerPoint. It’s like you’re a mutt she’s trying to adopt off. As if a photo of you would convince them to accept. You’re a liability. It won’t be long until you’re sent off on another suicide mission, doomed to survive and repeat the process over again. Laswell sighs. “She’s never been assigned a solo mission.”
“Lone survivor?” Says a new voice. The Scottish accent tells you it’s one of the sergeants, Mr. Mohawk. “Sounds familiar, eh, Ghost?”
There’s no response, a barely discernable grunt takes the place of an answer. Then this ‘Ghost’ speaks: “Jekyll and Hyde?”
“She’s a completely different person on the field. Jekyll specializes in intelligence, sabotage, and infiltration. A screw loose, yes, but Hyde…” You don’t belong here. They know it. You know it. It seems like Laswell is the only one out of the loop, but you will never doubt her stubbornness. Your stomach drops. “Hyde is unstoppable. She flips that switch… you have a wildcard that will turn the tide.”
Maybe you should just leave. Maybe you should take up Graves’ offer. He’d gladly take you, but you’re not sure what’s holding you back from finally pulling the trigger… you should really work on your wording.
“She’s survived alone for so long; she needs a team that can survive WITH her.”
You eye the window, admiring the view of the forested area that claims most of the land. This building is commercial, an office building repurposed for government use… and it seems they forgot to lock the window. It slides open with ease, and the 2-story drop is nothing. You’ve fallen from deadlier heights.
“JEKYLL!” You don’t bother turning around, Laswell’s voice ushering you to make a break for it into the forest.
Turning around, you salute them, sarcastically of course, and bolt into the forest as the group rips their own window open. Serves them right for talking shit when you can clearly hear everything. Your eyes flick around, spotting a sturdy enough tree to climb up. The forest is old, old enough to be your perfect personal playground. It’s been a while since you’ve been in one. It screams “HOME!” in your brain, but you shove that thought down. That home is across the world, your claim etched into the tops of the trees.
It’s not difficult to climb into a spot, it’s nearly as easy as breathing. The ambience of the forest is enough to take away the pain in your chest, the wind grounding you with its bite. Sighing, you slump against the bark and look upwards. The clouds look extra poofy today. A great contrast against the bright blue sky.
You close your eyes. It’s as if you’re there, survival being the only goal in your mind. Nothing weighing you down…
“Jekyll!”
You look down, disappointed that they found you already. War never changes and peace never lasts, including your own. Captain John Price glowers at you from below. You’re starting to feel a bit better, especially since this perspective is too damn hilarious. What a little, angry dude.
Ignoring the man, you slowly move from branch to branch. Running won’t solve anything, they chased you for a reason. Laswell did this on purpose. The revelation makes you freeze. Scowling, you whip around to face the men. “Look, I don’t appreciate Laswell meddling with my shit either, but mention anything about my teams again and I’ll cut your fucking tongues out.”
“Fair.”
Your eyes flick to Ghost, the darkest thing in the forest. It’s almost as if darkness clings to him. You could easily disappear, this forest is vast, yes, but it would be a walk in the park to a nearby town compared to your previous unsavory experiences. You know this, but it seems Ghost knows too. He’s tense, watching you closely for any tells. It’s funny, you’re doing the same thing. Great minds think alike.
“How’d you like the PowerPoint?” you lean against a branch, scratching a scar on your chin. “Was it the maroon or grey themed one?”
Silence, but then an answer from one of the sergeants, Mr. Mohawk. “Grey.”
You frown, allowing yourself to swing to a lower branch. “Funny, she said she changed it. Liar.”
“Laswell a liar?”
“All of you are liars,” you immediately throw back, sizing up all the men. “To others… to yourselves.”
“And you’re not a liar?” The other sergeant asks. Curious man, a seeker of truth. His determination is difficult to ignore, a sense of justice that could rival yours. Good. There’s not many left in this world. He shall henceforth be Sunshine.
You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Lies kill in our line of business, even the small ones, Sergeant. Not my weapon of choice. Now, are you rejecting me or not?”
“No.”
Now that’s interesting. You descend a few more branches. “Why?”
“The PowerPoint.”
You scoff, landing softly onto the forest floor. It takes only a few steps to close the distance. Hesitance invades your mind. This group will be different. You’ll just have to place your trust in Laswell and her mysterious ways. “Next mission?”
“Not much to go on, we’re waiting on Laswell for intel.”
Nodding, you glance at the team. “You going to bother introducing yourselves? Don’t bother, big boy, I already know who you are.”
Ghost looks like a challenge, very throwable. Maybe you’ll get a chance in the field. The Sergeants exchange glances. Aren’t they cute.
“Too late, you’re Mr. Mohawk and Sunshine now,” you state, adjusting your vest and walking away. “Give me 24 hours, Price.”
And with that, you leave the men alone to focus on your favorite task… digging for intel.
“Jekyll.”
You halt in your steps, turning around. “Yes, Captain?”
He steps forward. “You’re 141, we work as a team. You haven’t lost us yet.”
The pain returns, the ringing in your ears reaching a crescendo despite the forest’s calming aura. Blood, so much blood, gasps for breath and- Your jaw tightens, any more pressure and you’re sure you’ll shatter them. “Conference room 2.”
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Thanks for reading! I really want to you (the reader lol) to pitch in and decide where to go! I think a little choose your own adventure would be cool. I'll start it up within the next chapter or two. I'm so exciteddd to write again. I hope my writing muscles aren't too decayed XD
If anyone has suggestions, do not hesitate to comment! I need more unhinged mutuals on here pls
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bamsara · 8 months ago
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A03 Questions Tag Game
I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game
1 – How many works do you have on AO3?
At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)
2 – What's your total AO3 word count?
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1,066,633
3 – What fandoms do you write for?
Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim
Currently: Cult of the Lamb
4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?
Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia
5 – Do you respond to comments?
I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them
I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me
6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me
7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Not posted? Solar Lunacy
Ongoing? TROD
8 – Do you get hate on fics?
Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though
9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)
10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.
11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though
12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?
No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites
13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?
I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now
14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?
Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while
15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Pass.
16 – What are your writing strengths?
I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do
17 – What are your writing weaknesses?
Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it
18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance
19 – First fandom you wrote for?
Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day
20 – Favorite fic you've written?
It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now
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evercelle · 9 months ago
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i really love your lineart!!!!!!
sometimes in the inking stage i kind of mess up about the thickness about the lines and such. and in general it looks stiff in comparison to the sketch. any advice for a novice?
thanks!! wow it's been two years since someone asked me about lineart :') in addition to the stuff i wrote in that post, some ways my process has changed since then:
using a pen at lowered opacity w/ velocity variation:
(example used is ciro pen!) if you draw a fast stroke it thins out, but consistent speed/pressure gives you a uniform width. it took me awhile to get used to bc developing speed + control just takes practice, but i like how pens with velocity make it quick to vary line width easily. (it might be a placebo effect but i also feel like drawing with these types of pens forces you to have more line confidence, bc it's very visually apparent when you go slow or unsteady...haha)
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2. sketch vague, draw detail in later
for pictures that i draw separate lineart for, i usually do rough bodies/shapes and then draw in details while inking. if there's too much detail in the sketch, i think it's easy to focus too much on following the sketch perfectly with your lines, so it gets really stiff and loses the motion in the original sketch. example sketch -> lineart
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3. the "this is fine" or "eh fix it later"
try not to overwork it! its fine if there are holes... and the lines dont connect... and the width is weird... it is okay.... employ the time honored techniques of "it's fine" it or "ill just fix it later" lol i tweak or add details as part of coloring to correct places where the lineart got weird. you can probably see it better in this process vid i posted before, but i also drew an example today ft. my boy gaming
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like any other skill, i think developing skill + speed with lines follows with time and practice, but i totally empathize with the struggle against it looking too stiff... getting past the mental block of trying Too Hard and losing the charm is tough. you can do it!! i hope this helps!
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invisibleicewands · 9 months ago
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Bringing revolution to Port Talbot - by Michael Sheen
On a recent February morning, I woke up to find I was wrong. Not a particularly uncommon experience in itself, but unusual to discover that on this occasion I was being publicly accused of it by the Secretary of State for Business and Trade. “Michael Sheen has said that ‘the people of Port Talbot have been let down’,” Kemi Badenoch wrote in the Daily Mail. “But he is wrong.”
It was a big day. I spent all of last year directing a three-part drama series for the BBC called The Way, which was to air that night. It begins in my hometown of Port Talbot, where a strike at the local steelworks becomes the spark that ignites a violent descent into national chaos. Clearly, Ms Badenoch had been given a sneak peek of the series before forming quite a strong opinion on it. But no: reading her article, Ms Badenoch admits that she hadn’t watched it at all. Why let a total lack of information prevent a full-throated denouncement, eh? Presumably, she also assumes that we managed to write, film and edit the entire series after Tata Steel announced the imminent loss of some 2,500 jobs at the steelworks mere weeks ago.
While the winds of change have only been blowing in one direction for many years, the events in our story were dreamed up some years ago and act as a fictional catalyst for all that follows. Surely even Tory ministers understand there is no VIP fast lane for making a TV series. This isn’t a PPE contract, after all…
Nothing to see here
After that episode aired, it occurred to me that such shenanigans in the right-wing press could have been about a couple of things. Since the ITV drama about the Post Office scandal, Mr Bates vs The Post Office, caused public outrage, I imagine the government has a new fear of the impact a TV show can have. A pre-emptive strike against a series it perceives to be criticising its actions around the steel industry must have seemed a useful tactic. And, having seen Breathtaking – based on Rachel Clarke’s memoir of how the Covid crisis unfolded in the NHS, which aired on ITV the same night as The Way – I wonder if her piece was an attempt to distract attention away from more dangerous territory.
It gave Ms Badenoch a chance to trot out her line about how the people of Port Talbot should be grateful for all that the government is doing to save the steel industry, not moaning about the impact job losses will have on their community. But the people of Port Talbot have been let down, no matter what Ms Badenoch wants us to think. Not by any single entity, but by years of neglect. That she immediately assumed my comments referred to her and her government tells its own story. In the words of a much older drama than mine: the lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Then and Nye
“This crisis is a privateering racket with your friends lining their pockets!” No, not an accusation against Boris Johnson, but something I currently say to Winston Churchill every night. We opened a new play called Nye at the National Theatre this week. I play Aneurin (“Nye”) Bevan, who attacks the prime minister for turning a wartime crisis into a money-making scheme for him and his cronies. It’s one of many moments in the play that seem to speak to past and present at the same time.
The entanglement of “now” and “then” is heightened by the fact that I am wearing pyjamas. Nye is lying unconscious in his hospital bed at the end of his life, and we follow him through a dream of his past. He wanders from childhood memories of overcoming his stutter in Tredegar library to his meteoric rise through local politics, to becoming the youngest member of Clement Attlee’s pioneering postwar cabinet. And, of course, as minister for health, his tumultuous birthing of the NHS on 5 July 1948. It’s an extraordinary, surprising and moving experience telling this story on stage each night. That shared space between actors and audience, where all is felt but unseen, crackles with electricity.
Once more, with feeling
It seems that exploring the motives of politicians, the uses and abuses of political power, and the quest for justice that saw the creation of the NHS taps into deep wells of emotion. Like the pockets of gas that miners feared within the coal seam, their release brings risk and reward. At a recent show, we had three instances of people needing to be helped out of the theatre, the final one forcing us to pause the show moments from its end. Thankfully, it was nothing more serious than someone fainting. But emotions are running high.
I’m more than happy to invite Ms Badenoch to a performance. But I realise, of course, there’s no guarantee she would make it to the end.
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another-lost-mc · 1 year ago
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Hii, first of all, i love your writing 💕 and I hope you're doing well.
How do you think the bros would react watching the movie Se7en?
I think it would be interesting to see their reactions since the theme surrounds the seven deadly sins.
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a/n: I love this movie! I re-watched while I worked on this since it's been a while. I wrote the blurbs in order of the sins as they're portrayed in the film.
➤ watching the movie se7en | the demon brothers
1k words | x gn!reader | nsfw | violence and dark/disturbing themes, demons thinking about demon things, movie spoilers
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BEELZEBUB | the gluttony scene
Any other time, he'd be joking that if he had to die, he wants to die eating. He understands that now's probably not the best time to tell you that.
He feels a bit sad for some reason. He's not sure if it's the poor bloke's death on screen or the movie's gritty atmosphere in general.
Ravenous hunger has its downsides, but most of the time he enjoys eating food. He can understand why being forced to eat would be emotional and literal torture for someone.
He knows he could eat that much pasta without breaking a sweat, but he doubts it would be comforting to you so he doesn't say it out loud.
He wonders how much he'd have to eat for his body to break down in protest of finally being too full, but he keeps that to himself too.
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MAMMON | the greed scene
It's not a horror movie but the dark vibe still gives him the creeps.
He hasn't had to look away (yet) but he tucks you closer to his side so you can cuddle. You can hide your face in his chest for the gross parts if they bother you, he won’t tease you.
He sorta gets an inkling about the greed motif— something about a scummy lawyer and money trading hands is his first guess about why this guy was targeted.
Eh, close enough.
There are a lotta ways to kill someone with greed without actually killing them, y’know.
(He doesn’t wanna talk about ‘em though. He doesn’t want you to think badly of him.)
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BELPHEGOR | the sloth scene
What the actual fuck.
He was feeling a bit sleepy watching the movie up to this point, but he's not anymore.
He understands the interpretation of his sin, but he's surprised to see such an ugly version of it in a human world movie like this.
If he senses that you're uncomfortable, he tries to distract you until the scene ends.
Now seems like a great time to pause the movie so you can both get up and get a drink, or stretch—or maybe go for a nap if you're tired and don't want to finish it right now.
(He's going to make sure you don't have bad dreams after this.)
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ASMODEUS | the lust scene
He's had custom sex toys made before, but something like this? Yeesh.
Literally fucking someone to death seems so brutal, so unromantic. This isn't how he would do it, but he doesn't tell you that; he doesn't want to scare you.
(If he had to kill someone using his sin, he'd fuck them before ripping them open from stomach to sternum.)
(If he had to kill you with his sin, he’d make love to you until you eventually fall asleep. Your death will be instant and painless before he cuts out your heart and eats it.)
He notices that this part of the movie made you squirm in your seat more than the others so far.
Maybe a warm bath and cuddling in his bed will help you relax once the movie's over. He’s suddenly overcome with the urge to hold you.
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LUCIFER | the pride scene
It feels anti-climactic compared to some of the other portrayals of sin so far, but he appreciates the simplicity. He was afraid it would be needlessly gruesome like the others.
Pride is insidious, the mother of all sins, the first deadly bloom that causes all others to fester and rot on the vine.
He can’t help the way his mind wanders after this. As an angel, he tried to resist sin. As a demon, he embraces it. Humans are weak and he knows for many, pride is their downfall.
You might not believe you could be pushed to make such a fatal choice, but Lucifer senses the way your own blend of pride lingers within you too.
He keeps silent about those thoughts and he wraps his arm around you for the rest of the film.
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LEVIATHAN | the envy scene
He’s unusually quiet. He doesn’t complain or whine about how boring it is, and he doesn’t reach for his handheld either. Sometimes he looks puzzled by what’s on screen, and other times he seems contemplative.
He’s a little surprised by the ending. Speechless almost. He understands envy, but to do all this?
And the part with the wife, well...he thinks it's just a bit of an overreaction, don't you?
He can’t help but glance at you once the movie's over. He thinks about life before you and life with you now; he can't imagine life without you in it anymore.
Would he be capable of that type of jealousy if you didn't choose him? If he had to watch someone else live their own happily ever after with you while he suffered alone?
Huh.
When the movie ends, he distracts you with an impromptu game night in his room and he cuddles with you in his tub after.
His tail curls around your leg as you drift off to sleep, and he realizes he'd do so much worse just to keep you by his side.
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SATAN | the wrath scene
For the most part, he's been less interested in the portrayal of sins. He's totally wrapped up in the mystery aspect of the movie instead.
Throughout the entire film, he's muttered under his breath about certain things he noticed or his guess about what might happen next.
(He’s read all the books mentioned in the library scene too.)
He figured that the cop with the short fuse was going to be involved somehow with wrath. He actually thought the character was a bit annoying.
He does sympathize with the cop's behaviour at the end—all he has to do is think of someone hurting you and it makes him seethe with rage.
The reveal about the wife caught him completely off-guard but thinking about it later, it seems so obvious.
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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 4 months ago
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Baby Driver: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
I lost the image from my inbox, but it was first time with Leon with a fem reader.
It's been a while since I wrote a first time fic, eh pookie bears? :)
Contains: Car sex, condoms (contraceptives are cool, kids), blowjob, light choking, light hair pulling
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The air was thick like crystalizing honey. The radio was all but a murmur, some local news station was starting to crackle from being just on the border of its broadcasting distance. The deep rumble of the engine nearly drowned it out, but you still focused on trying to make out what the two news spokesmen were saying through the static.
However, it was beginning to become apparent that your heart was adamant about deafening both noises. It pounded inside of you, quickening in its pace, beating against your ribcage like it was trying to break out of its cage. You could feel it throb against your skin beneath your clothes.
It was safe to say you were nervous.
You weren’t a virgin, but you aren’t exactly experienced yourself. It’s been a while since you last had any intimate encounters, it made you even more anxious when you saw Leon’s hands slide down the shiny curve of the steering wheel. He knew about you, not being experienced and all. Despite your worrying, he didn’t seem to be bothered by the newly splayed information and still insisted on this date.
Leon is a smart man. Brave, loyal, charming, you couldn’t list all of his dazzling traits, but one you could state firmly and boldly was that he was patient. He wasn’t going to do anything you weren’t ready for.
You briefly looked over to your date, your boyfriend of nearly three months sitting in the driver's seat. He was peering out of the windows out of the corners of his eyes, making sure you both were alone. He had taken you to some secluded little patch of woods, a long-forgotten hiking trail evident in the fact that the parking lot was covered in fallen leaves and the small ranger cabin had been left barren and dusty, nature reclaiming its land.
You did the same as Leon for a brief moment, trying to occupy your wandering mind, staring into the lines of trees when he cleared his throat softly.
You felt him place a gentle hand on your forearm, crossed in your lap with your hands clasped together. You turned to look at him, finding him already looking at you, his stormy blue eyes shined in the low lighting his display put out. He wore an unreadable expression, but his brows slightly knit together in slight worry.
“You’ve been quiet the entire ride up here,” his words were soft. You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly, a soft apology rolling off of your tongue. Your cheeks were lit aflame, your chest felt like it was being beaten against like a drum, you suddenly felt very hot despite the air conditioning blowing gently. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” he reminded you once again.
He had mentioned it a couple of times already. The first before he picked you up, the second after the lavish dinner he had taken you to as he helped you get in his car, and then once again just now.
Ever the gentleman.
“I want to,” you found your voice. You winced internally when your voice wavered at the end. You repeated again, more firmly, “I want to.”
His thumb rolled over the skin of your forearm before he dragged his hand down to grasp at your own. He squeezed your hand a little tight, giving you one last out, but you didn’t back down.
Leon shut his car off, the engine cutting but the radio still kept going. Leon’s eyes studied you, noting your obvious anxiety.
He leaned in slowly and you found yourself doing the same. Both of your eyes fluttered shut as your noses grazed each other. The second your lips connected, it felt like life had crackled inside of you like fireworks. It always did with him since the first time you both kissed and it was something you always looked forward to with him.
His lips were warm and soft. He took charge gently, pressing his lips more firmly against yours, guiding your jaws to move as you both sucked at each others faces. He felt so warm and he smelled so good, and fuck, he was so handsome. There was a very light scratch against your chin, his facial hair barely scratching your soft skin, the light stubble needing to be shaved in the morning. The remnants of dinner lingered on both of your tongues, the after-dinner mints didn’t seem to do much for the aromatics, but it just added to the moment.
You moaned softly into the kiss, Leon pushing a little deeper into you. You felt his tongue briefly dance across your bottom lip, softly begging for you to part your lips for him and let him enter. When you hesitated, he nipped at the delicate skin making you gasp and obey. Leon’s hand that was just caressing the back of your hand suddenly gripped at your thigh, fingers twisting the material of your dress into a tight knot in his grasp. You brought a hand up to rest on the side of his neck where it connected to his shoulder, toying with the collar of his jacket as his tongue quickly explored your mouth.
He suddenly broke the kiss, a disappointed whine left you when you hadn’t meant it. You barely opened your eyes to be a half-lidded gaze when you heard Leon unbuckle both of your seatbelts, allowing him to move over the center console better. Your lips locked together once again, moving at a faster pace as you both swapped spit. He brought his other hand up to the side of your face, cupping your jaw, bringing you closer into the kiss before he urged your body to press against the center console like he had done with his.
Your hands fully grasped at his jacket, grabbing onto his open collar and pulling him as close as you could. He was so warm under your touch, a comforting heat rolled off of him in waves. There was a faint scent of his cologne that reached your nose; it was gentle, not too overpowering, it reminded you of fresh rainfall in a pine forest. It helped to calm your heart down, but you could feel his own beating away very steadily inside of his chest.
You were the one to pull away this time, needing air as your poor lungs begged for relief. You both were panting, cheeks hot, hearts hammering. Leon’s pupils were blown wide with lust, but he kept in control.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” you cut him off rather eagerly.
A cocky grin ghosted over Leon’s lips before he eyed his backseat, nodding in that direction.
“Get in the back,” he ordered softly.
Your body worked faster than your mind, quickly getting out of the front passenger seat. You barely had enough time to close the door behind you when you felt Leon grab a hold of you, pulling you directly into his lap. He had you straddle him, his strong hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place as he urged you to settle. Your lips connected once again, both of you now fighting for who would be in control. Your hands snatched onto the back of the seat on either side of Leon’s head, nails digging into the fabric before you grasped Leon’s head and carded your fingers into his thick hair. He growled at the contact, jerking his hips up, causing you to gasp again.
His clothed erection was resting right against your concealed cunt. You shivered in anticipation. You had a feeling he was big, but for it to be confirmed so soon in your relationship? You thought it would’ve taken you a couple more months to work up the courage to do something like this.
You grinded against him slowly, sinking your hips down and shimmying your hips ever so slightly. It drove him mad. Leon’s hands came up to your ass and gave each cheek a good squeeze. You pressed yourself as close to him as you could, your breasts flushed with his chest. A soft cry escaped your lips at his rough touch. One of his hands came up from your ass to squeeze and paw up your hips, trailing up the curve of your spine and eventually tangling in your hair.
You brought one of your hands down, confidently slotting it between your persons, and gently squeezed him through the material of his pants-
You suddenly seized up and loosened when the back of your head was pressed firmly against the backside of the driver’s headrest with Leon’s fingers wrapped around your throat. There was a feral look in his eyes that made your mind go nuts inside. He was panting as though he had just ran an entire marathon, a few locks of his hair had fallen in front of his steely blue eyes, his lips were a little swollen from your kisses.
“Leon,” you moaned softly.
His thumb was right on your pulse. He could feel it pounding away right under his fingerprint like a rabbit’s. The pad of his thumb massaged your throat gingerly, slowly working his fingers down until he was no longer choking you. The first breath was something else otherworldly, it crackled new life within you despite barely losing any oxygen to begin with. Your heart was beating against your ribs as though it were an animal trying to break out of its cage. He could feel it beat through your skin, he could smell how divine you were, he could see that little twinkle in your eyes as your pupils swallowed up that gorgeous color of your eyes.
Although Leon’s hands kept you still, you managed to scoot back a little bit, sitting beside him on the backseat. Your hands returned to his person, first starting off splayed out across his broad chest before they ventured down his jacket. Both of your hands fumbled with his belt, trying to focus of your target when his own hands lightly scratched up your spine until he knotted his fingers into your hair once again. Your fingers trembled with excitement, unlatching his belt buckle and slipping the shiny dark leather loose. Your eyes never left the tented erection teasing you right in front of your face, it was barely three inches away from your nose as your unhooked the buttons of his slacks and drew down his zipper. He groaned softly, finally free of the constraints of his tight slacks but still in the elastic cotton comforts of his underwear. The heather gray that you could see was thin, you could see an enticing long shadow of a vein running along the underside of his cock.
You hesitated for a second, hypnotized by the was Leon was scratching circular motions into your scalp while also tugging on your locks before your fingers slipped under the taut waistband. Leon audibly sighed in relief as his cock sprung free, the thing nearly smacking you in the nose from how erect it was. Though it was dark, you could make out all of the delicious details of Leon’s cock, eyes running up his thick shaft right to his head that leaked a little precum from his reddish tip.
You don’t know what came over you.
You found yourself gently grasping at the base of his dick and steadied him before your tongue ran up his shaft and followed the vein. It was Leon’s turn to audibly gasp. You could see the way his abs fluttered from underneath his jacket and dress shirt and how his broad chest swelled at the intake of air.
You focused on his head for a moment, tongue swirling around the swollen tip. The salty taste of his cum sat heavy and delicious on your tongue. You barely massaged the tip of your tongue against his slit when Leon whimpered.
It made you still ever so slightly.
It made you want to hear it over and over again until the end of time.
You took his entire head in your mouth, working slow, you lowered your head at a snail’s pace at first. Leon fisted the back of your dress, nails biting through the fabric and scratching at your spine. His other hand nearly snatched at your hair, almost fisting your hair and locking his hand in place. He didn’t pull, not yet at least, just kept you still as you took him in your mouth.
He cursed softly, the words barely spilling over his lips at you worked your way down. You bobbed your head, trying to ease your mouth open just a little wider, take him just a little deeper, work your throat open just a touch more. He sat heavy on your tongue. The angle you were taking him in made your jaw start to ache. You started to slow down a bit when his head hit the back of your throat, a short muffled moan was barely audible but it reached Leon’s ears perfectly fine. He pulled at your hair a bit, just enough for you to feel a slight burn at the scalp before he pushed against your skull. He urged you to swallow more of him, to take him down to the root before starting over. You followed along, tightening your hands at his waist, going with his short rotations. Each time, you nearly swallowed him fully only to start to gag, pulling you away maybe an inch or two before repeating it.
He cursed again, this time louder. You looked up at him from under your lashes only to see him staring at you. He looked so riled up. His pupils swallowed his stormy blues, his hair was just a tad messy to the point a few locks fell in front of his face, a very faint blush had spread across his chiseled cheeks. You stirred up the courage to bat your little eyes at him and moan around his cock when it tickled the back of your throat again.
You felt him twitch in your mouth before he completely pulled you off of his cock, hauling you up by your hair. Your cry was silenced, swallowed by his hungry lips as he tasted himself on your tongue for a brief moment. Your hand absent-mindedly wrapped around his glistening dick and squeezed lightly, thumbing his slit and teasingly rubbing soft circles against the head. Leon hissed, biting your bottom lip before one of his hands enclosed around yours and his cock.
He pumped his cock a few times, rutting slightly each time your hand graced his crotch before you both parted.
You both found yourselves staring into each others eyes for a moment.
For a little while, the world didn’t seem to be important. You no longer felt nervous, not because you hadn’t had sex in a while nor because you were about to do it in public.
All that mattered was how your, for just a brief few seconds in time, your hearts synced up.
You drew yours hands back to your body, fingers quickly reaching the wrinkled hem of your dress and started to bunch it up. Leon watched like a man starved, looking on in sheer intent as you revealed your thighs and eventually your underwear to him. His hands found your body again, cupping at the curve of your ass and trailing their way up to the waistband before he started to slowly peel them down your legs.
He hesitated for a brief moment when they were halfway down your thighs, a familiar gleam in his eyes as he stared up at you.
One last out, yet you didn’t take it.
You made to get closer to Leon, shivering when your slickened folds met the chilled air, when he stopped you. He sat up quickly, reaching around to search in the center console before he withdrew a familiar looking black paper box. He plucked one from the box and tossed it back in the driver’s seat to deal with later.
It glistened in his hand, reflecting the low lighting the radio’s screen gave off. He was about to tear the packaging with his teeth when you plucked it from his fingers. He scoffed a short laugh, sitting back once again as you tore the thin foil and pulled out the glistening condom from its packaging. You leaned in and close to him, lips barely touching, noses brushing against each other. You carefully rolled the condom on over his head before wrapping your fingers around him. You pushed the condom down slowly, jerking him and squeezing him in the process before he was fully hilted into it.
Leon’s hands once again firmly situated themselves around your waist. He drew you in close, guiding your body close and helping you position yourself in his lap. You felt it beneath you as you sank down, suddenly pressing between your folds, splitting your lips before you felt a familiar sudden pressure.
You latched onto Leon’s broad shoulders and sighed and cried in his ear. Pressure built up into pleasure when he entered you, his cock stretching you oh so well. He shushed you softly, holding you in place as your cunt squeezed around him. You both moaned in sync, shoulders sagging and chests swelling as you both found it a little hard to breathe.
He let you go at your own pace, allowing you to move when you felt comfortable enough to do so. He held onto you, keeping you close, whispering sweet nothings into the small space between your bodies.
You eventually started to move when the stretch no longer became too much. You started slow, working yourself along his thick shaft, swallowing your sighs and moans and whimpers. You’ve never been stretched like this before, you’ve never felt so full.
“Oh, come on pretty girl,” Leon tutted, “don’t be so shy. Lemme hear you.”
His voice was all dark and sultry, it scratched an itch in your mind that you’ve been trying to scratch for years. It only added to the experience of fucking in the backseat of his car where the windows have been fogged up for some time now. You couldn’t help the moan that left you as your walls fluttered around his girth. You locked your hands behind Leon’s head, nails digging into the headrest as you rocked your hips along his length.
You rode him, as best as you could really with what little space you were given. But you rode him, nonetheless. He met your hips with enthusiasm, panting when you did, ghosting sweet words over your lips before kissing you. He urged you to be louder, to let him really hear you, smiling ever so brightly when you gave in. He loves the taste of the salt on your body, loves the smell of sex in the heavy air, loves the feeling of your velvet walls clamping down on his big dick.
For a brief second, he wished he wasn’t wearing a condom just to feel how hot and wet you are right now, because he could tell you were absolutely dripping with liquid sin.
It would just be a matter of time before you both took it up a notch.
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onlyrains · 4 months ago
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[11:34pm]
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—t/w: angst, mention of death and alcohol
watching someone slowly lose themselves is probably the last thing you would ask for.
it's been an hour since you noticed jay was in the same room as you. knowing his true nature while watching him hitting on random girls at a bar like this makes your heart ache. this wasn't him at all.
having sudden mind reading power, you knew he was still grieving on his ex—who also your sister—unexpected death. because so were you. that's why you ended up at this bar alone on a weekday night.
from not too far away, you saw him gradually closing the gap between him and the poor girl. they were kissing mindlessly. she even held him so tight, without any sign of wanting to let go soon.
his messy slicked back hair was still as beautiful as ever. you always praised him for his looks and fashion choices since you used to see him around your house almost everyday. but tonight, seeing him with his collar sticking out, rolled up sleeve, and smirk plastered on his lips was really something. it was new to you.
you turned around and chugged your drink. you just realized losing someone could cause a huge impact like this.
a moment later, you overhear him, “can i call you her name?”
you turned. your heart almost sank then you see her palm going so fast to slap him with all her guts.
he froze before standing up. he nodded a few times as a sign that he understood the situation—without a significant change in his expression. “okay, okay.” he said, raising both hands.
so he walked in your direction.
you turned to face the bar, pretended to be busy ordering a new drink with the bartender.
“a whisky, please,” he ordered, taking a seat next to you. you held your breath when his perfume hit your nose, bringing back memories you didn't want to remember.
“hi?” he greeted, like nothing just happened to him a few seconds ago.
“hi?” you replied with the same tone.
“eh? you do really look like her.” his hazy eyes stared at you deeply. you watched him place his head on the bar.
he scoffed. “sorry, maybe it's the hallucination again.” he laughed, probably for expecting another slap.
but you laughed with him, for silently wanting to hug him while he didn't recognize you.
“you still refuse to believe we've lost her.” you mumbled, head bowed weakly so he didn't hear you.
“are you okay?” he asked.
you glanced, only to met his eagle eyes.
“i'm not.”
“ah, c'mon. let's have some fun then.” he stood up and offer his hand for you to take.
you looked up at him. “'m sorry?”
“dance with me.”
you bit your inner lip, contemplating the nice offer before finishing your newly-served drink. you thought you just need to be as drunk as him to do this.
“okay.” you held his rough hand to let him led you to the dance floor.
you were melted with the background music for a moment and let your body moved the way they want it. jay, on the other hand, busy to maintained his eyes at yours. his hand wandered around your back before finally took its place on your waist.
“aren't your head spinning?” oh, you used to ask your sister that question too. you held your sweated fist tightly.
he smiled. “a little.” he paused. “where did you know that?”
you frowned, feeling the palpitation in your chest. “uh?”
“the 'head spinning' question. how do you know?”
“is that something i supposed to know? it's just you look so wasted? i don't know, just wondering,”
he lets out a soft chuckle, “thank you. that's make me feel better,”
your knees almost lost its strength.
“do i know you?” he asked again.
“no, you don't.”
“but you do really sound like her.”
“am i?”
“…can i ask you something?”
you nodded hesitantly.
“can i call you her name?”
a single tear dropped from your eye.
“yes.”
you swore you never seen him with this wide smile before.
a/n: sorry if this too angsty. its inspired by a song <iykyk> and i barely awake when i wrote this so please bear with me ><
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coimbrabertone · 1 month ago
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The Best F1 Season For A Non-Contender?
Well, the biggest story coming out of the 2024 United States Grand Prix is without a doubt the Verstappen/Norris thing.
To recap, Lando is coming after Max hard, gets run on the backstraight after run on the backstraight, but keeps going to the outside and can't pull the move off.
Finally, on lap 52, Lando has a good enough run that he's ahead, on the outside, but ahead. So what then?
Well, Max Verstappen is on the inside so he just divebombs to get the apex, goes wide, pushes Lando wide with him, and Lando has to pass around the outside in the runoff.
He's finally ahead.
Except no, fuck you, this is F1 and fun isn't allowed.
So the stewards are investigating this move where no contact was made, nobody got hurt, and there was enough runoff all around to land an Antonov AN-225 in.
And Lando gets the penalty. Lando.
Why? Overtaking off track.
Lando is 4.1 seconds ahead at the end of the race, gets dropped behind Max in the standings, everyone on social media is pissed. Some people - who are wrong - think that Max had the right because he was in front at the apex, others think Lando should've just given the position back and retaken it on track, which probably would've been the smart play in retrospect.
It's also kinda the racing equivalent of cuckolding though, isn't it?
Like, are we really watching for someone to have to give up a position to avoid getting a penalty?
"Ah yes sir, you drove me off track like a prick sir, but here's the position sir, have a good one sir."
Ridiculous.
Anyway, I'm sure this is the 97th different place you've heard about this incident, so I'll leave it there. Instead, I'm gonna talk about something overshadowed by all the petty bullshit going on between these two championship contenders.
And that's the fact that Charles Leclerc is quietly putting together a dream season.
First, he wins the Monaco Grand Prix. Winning Monaco is already a feather in the cap for an F1 driver, but it's also his home race, so that might just be one of the most special wins imaginable. Especially when you consider how miserable Charles' luck at Monte Carlo has been before now.
Then, he wins the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari for the second time, no less. He's won his own home race and he's won his team's home race, what more could you ask for in a season?
Well, the first race weekend back from his birthday on October 16th, Leclerc goes and leads home a Ferrari 1-2 at the United States Grand Prix. Now, I'm an American so the USGP is a special event for me - I wrote a blogpost all about its history last week - but I recognize that isn't the case for the Monegasque Leclerc.
Still, a GP win is still an amazing birthday present.
What a way to bounce back considering he was disqualified last year for plank wear as well.
So, that's three wins on the season, each one having something special about it. Does that make it the best season ever for a non-contender?
Well, that's a difficult question.
First things first, what do we consider a contender? In a way, everyone is contending for the championship, so they're all contenders.
Is it a potential shot at the championship then? Eh, probably not, because Leclerc still potentially has a chance at winning the championship.
So how about this: being a contender is having a realistic chance at the championship. So the championship leader and the direct challengers.
This year, I'd argue that's just Max and Lando, since Max has had the best car for years and started the season with easily the best car, while Lando has benefited from a recent surge by McLaren.
For another example, in 2007, I'd argue that Raikkonen, Alonso, and Hamilton were all contenders, but Massa was not.
So how about Massa's three-win season that year?
Well, he won Bahrain, Spain, and Turkey.
Two places without much connection to him, and then a track he already won at the year before.
In that respect, I'd argue 2006 was a more meaningful season for Massa. His first year in a Ferrari, he's far off Alonso and Schumacher, but he takes his first win at Turkey and then gets to win his home race at Brazil, solidifying his position as best of the rest.
Button 2010?
Eh, he's the reigning champion going into a good team like McLaren and ends up dropping away from the championship pack after Korea, and only takes two wins to his name: Australia and China.
I can't think of a reason those races would be special for him.
What about Button in 2011? Is he a contender that year? That's actually hard for me to say. He's second, he was painted as the challenger to Vettel, but he finished more than a hundred points off. Is that much of a rivalry?
Then again, can we really say 2011 only had one contender?
I'm not sure.
Canada, Hungary, and Suzuka are a decent set of tracks if you're gonna take three wins in a season, especially given how Canada went down, with it being Jenson's career drive.
That one could count then, I reckon.
How about further back in history?
What about 1966, when Ludovico Scarfiotti did literally two races - Germany and Italy - and won the latter. An Italian winning the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari has got to be special, right? Especially when you consider that this is the last time an Italian won the Italian Grand Prix. Not just in a Ferrari, but at all.
I suppose it's also as close as F1 has ever gotten to that 2006 Valencia Grand Prix in MotoGP where Troy Bayliss returned to MotoGP, filling in for the injured Sete Gibernau at one race at Ducati.
A race with Bayliss proceeded to win.
Troy hadn't won any races in full seasons with Ducati in 2003 and 2004, nor in his partial campaign with Camel Honda in 2005, but he comes back in 2006 as a replacement rider for one race and goes on to win that thing.
It's a wonderful racing moment, and Scarfiotti at Monza in 1966 is probably as close as F1 ever got to that.
Oh here's one.
Jody Scheckter in 1976. The whole world is watching Hunt vs. Lauda, McLaren vs. Ferrari, and here's Jody Scheckter in a six-wheeled Tyrrell casually winning the Swedish Grand Prix, taking four second places, and ending the season as best of the rest.
The Swedish Grand Prix was a great race for these one-off weird winners actually. Scheckter in the Tyrrell P34 in 1976, Jacques Laffite in the Matra V12 powered Ligier in 1977, and of course 1979 with Niki Lauda winning in the fan car.
Ooh, speaking of 1977, I think we have a contender!
...A contender for non-contenders? Yes actually.
Mario Andretti in 1977. He's got the Lotus 78, the first ground effect car in Formula One history, and it's not quite ready to win the championship, but it's still going on a tear.
Winning the USGP West at Long Beach, a home race for Andretti. Then winning at Spain and France, and finally winning the Italian Grand Prix, the other race Mario could call home. That sounds like an awful good season to me, potentially even better than Leclerc this year. He also finished third that year, so it lines up there as well.
How about this? We'll see if Leclerc can win another race or two this year, and if not, then I'll give it to Andretti. 1977, the best championship season for a non-contender.
Feel free to leave any notable seasons I missed in the comments below, I'm eager to hear what seasons y'all can come up with.
P.S
In other news this weekend, we had the Australian Grand Prix in MotoGP. Jorge Martin won the sprint and Marc Marquez the main race. The sprint was pretty uneventful save for a few scary crashes right at the end - particularly Bezzecchi and Vinales in turn one, with both riders thankfully walking away okay - while the race saw a pretty dramatic battle between Martin and Marquez at the end.
I don't exactly cheer for either guy, so it was a bit meh for me, but at least Phillip Island put on a good race.
As for NASCAR...quite frankly I didn't watch this weekend. I was watching F1 and after that I had a headache and I was mad about the Max/Lando stuff, so I just didn't want to bother with it. I hear Logano won though, which means he goes on to the championship four. Cue up the even year memes.
Even Penske tweeted a joke about that.
Penske tweeting jokes. Heh, that's a new one.
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archiveikemen · 12 days ago
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"Mobius Chord" Main Story Prologue: Chapter 1
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belong to +ONE by Ikemen Series and KansaiTV. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games.
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Koto Suzuno: Alright, I’ll hit send and… there! 
Koto: YES—! I’m done with my manuscript! 
I nearly shot both arms up to celebrate the accomplishment, but decided to lower them and pretend I was stretching.
(I forgot I’m here at Keido to focus…) 
“Keido” was a quiet café hidden in a peaceful alleyway, away from the bustling streets. 
With the warm sunlight shining through the windows, this has been my favourite place since my college days.
The small flower vase on the table sparkled like a gemstone, alleviating the tiredness in my eyes after staring at my laptop’s screen for as long as I could remember. 
Café Owner: Well done, Koto-chan. Here’s a treat for you. 
Koto: Eh? Wow, thank you so much! 
I received a slice of cake from the café owner whom I was on friendly terms with as a reward and enjoyed its wonderful taste while flipping through a magazine. 
— “Fortessimo”. A magazine that focused on the music industry. 
It’s publisher was the company I had just submitted my manuscript to, and my very first article was planned to be featured in it. 
Koto: In a month’s time, an article I wrote will be here… I’m so happy.
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Kamiya Takara: Yo, Koto! How’s work? 
Koto: Oh… Kamiya-san! 
Kamiya: You’re here again.
Koto: Indeed. I find myself very productive whenever I'm at Keido. What about you, Kamiya-san? 
Takara: Just taking a quick break. I’ve been staying up all night since yesterday to keep watch… 
Koto: Since yesterday!? You must be so tired…! 
Kamiya-san ordered an espresso from the café owner and rubbed his eyes to relieve the fatigue.
Kamiya: Actually, I was thinking it’s about time I contacted you. 
Koto: Oh… is it regarding my older brother? 
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Kamiya: Yeah. Fortunately or unfortunately, there were “no leads” this time as well. 
Riku Suzuno – my older brother. 
Around the time I entered college, he vanished without a trace as though he had been spirited away. 
We have no clue if he was taken away by someone or left on his own accord. 
Kamiya: Naturally, he hasn't contacted you either, huh?
Koto: … Yeah.
Kamiya-san was my brother’s best friend since their schooling days and also a former bandmate of his. He now worked as a detective.
Despite the fact that my brother’s missing person case has long expired, he continued helping search for any leads. 
Whenever information on an unidentified young man surfaced, he would discreetly look into it on my behalf. 
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Kamiya: Damn it, what exactly is that guy up to… making his sister worry this much about him. 
Kamiya: In the blink of an eye, you graduated college, got a job at an advertising firm… and now you’re standing on your own as a writer. 
Kamiya: Honestly, even if he does come back, I don't think I’m going to let him act like some great older brother. You’ve really worked hard to get to where you are, Koto. 
Koto: It’s not like that. I’m still only just starting out as a writer. But… thank you. 
Kamiya: Nah, don’t say that. The advertising firm gives you additional responsibilities at work, right? That’s because you're capable enough for that. 
Koto: I think it’s purely due to the company being short staffed, and this time it just so happens that a senior colleague attended the same college I graduated from. 
Koto: By the way, Kamiya-san, will you be attending the “Autumn Gathering”?
It referred to the party happening next week celebrating the college’s 111th anniversary. 
It was mainly organised by alumni, and since my former workplace was involved, I was given a minor supporting role. 
Kamiya: I’ll show my face there if I don't have any cases to work on that day. It’s been a long time, I’d like to meet Go again.
Kamiya: But still, Go’s more suited to be a producer than being in a band himself. 
Go— Miyamoto Go-san was the CEO of the major music company GAIA, he was also a close friend of my brother and Kamiya-san. 
The trio used to be in a band called “ZEZZ”, which was what sparked my interest in music. 
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Kamiya: The opening act at the party is said to be “next-generation superstars”— probably one of Go’s artistes. Could it be Lit? 
Kamiya-san scrolled through his phone, checking the event lineup.
(Is Lit going to make an appearance as guest performers…?)
My mind drifted back to my college days, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. 
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delcakoo · 2 years ago
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i choose you! ˚ᘒ ˖˚𓈒 n.rk
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SUMMARY ! at last, your journey begins on route 1 with your first pokemon by your side.. and your pesky neighbor who somehow angers a flock of pidgeys enough to chase the both of you back to where you started. but don’t worry, riki will be there to protect you.. probably!
PAIRING ! pokemontrainer!niki x gn!reader
WC ! 3.7k
GENRE ! pokemon au (dont need to know that much to understand) frenemies to lovers, fluff <3
WARNINGS ! riki’s nickname for you is dummy, mentions of scraped knews/elbows, bandaged wounds, blood, being attacked by birds
a/n: this has been in my drafts since january cuz i only wrote it for the pokemon nostalgia and im kinda iffy abt it.. i tried to clean it up tho so hope u all enjoy!
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ding dong! ding dong! dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdo—
you practically yank your front door off the wall in vexation, the ringing in your ears dissipating the moment your annoying neighbour comes into view. he has a cheeky grin plastered across his pale face as his finger drops from your doorbell, shoving into his short’s pockets mischievously.
he tilts his head, and his black wavy hair bounces along animatedly. “ready to go, dummy?”
you’ve had the misfortune (or fortune) of being glued to nishimura riki’s side since birth.
you were the same age, yet it felt more like you were babysitting than hanging out with a friend during most of the time spent with him. your neighbor was the definition of a dork; an impulsive idiot with no sense of limits or rules that you’d constantly have to take control of before he did something stupid (though, there was no harm in letting it happen and relishing in the entertainment every so often). in fact, you could dare him to lick the sidewalk in exchange for a single oran berry, and he’d do it without hesitation.
reckless or not, you couldn’t deny your vast soft spot for the raven haired boy, considering he’s grown up with you and all.
but today, riki’s grin and visible excitement shockingly held a valid reason.
“hell yeah,” you reply with a smirk, gripping your backpack tighter once you descend down the front porch.
riki’s arm finds its way around your shoulder, smile growing as he stares down at you. “can you believe it, y/n? today’s really the day.”
you chuckle and nod. “yup, all those years at the academy will finally pay off.”
at least, it would for you; it was a miracle riki even graduated, noting that he still didn’t even know what would beat a dark type pokemon if one were to jump in front of him now.
“wonder what type of pokemon our starters will be,” he ponders. “i hope mine’s a dragon!”
“eh.. i think a bug type suits you better.”
in reply, he violently pinches your arm. “ay, ‘bet you’ll get a poison type with that attitude.”
while the bantering continues, the sliding door to your town’s lab eventually parts for the both of you. the high ceiling building was filled with all sorts of strange machines and metal tubes, and it was rather quiet besides the occasional sounds of pokemon chirping and playing in the distance. you vageuly remember being here once before on a field trip, as well as the memory of riki almost releasing a wild pokemon from it’s enclosure and getting your whole academy banned.
ah, good times.
as you trail inside, you feel something enclosed around your hand and carefully lace through your fingers. you glance down to investigate, brows furrowing at the sight of riki’s hand clasping yours tightly.
“..what are you doing?” you mutter with warm cheeks.
he shrugs. “this is a big moment, so i felt like holding your hand.” riki didn’t seem phased nor flustered at all, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. it wasn’t too surprising for him to initiate physical touch, yet for whatever reason something as simple as hand holding was making a strange feeling erupt in your stomach.
though before you could question him further, a feeble voice echoed blaringly through the laboratory. “my my, what do we have here?”
and in walks who you remember as professor bonsai, icy white lab coat nearly touching the ground as her frail fingers reach up to adjust her green glasses. you recall the old woman visiting the academy once or twice, and it was easy to tell she knew a whole lot more about pokemon than any of your teachers or trainers just by how she spoke of them.
to his disappointment, you quickly rip your hand from your neighbour’s, bowing politely. “professor bonsai, it’s an honor!” you exclaim with enthusiasm. riki quickly bows too, following you closely.
the woman’s lips raise, scanning you up and down. “ah, i remember you. y/n, correct?” you quickly nod, smiling. when the professor looks over to riki, her welcoming expression drops, wrinkles deepening unpleasantly. “and you..”
riki’s eyes widened, scratching his neck nervously. he seems to have made a bad first impression with the woman in the past, and you couldn’t say you were surprised in the slightest. “uh, hi again.. professor.”
“lord arceus.. ” she mumbles disapprovingly before clearing her throat. “alright then, both of you this way.”
with that, the old lady turns, walking away and leaving you and riki to exchange worried glances.
“she definitely hates me,” riki whispers as you follow her through the lab.
you raise a judging brow, pinching his side. “probably for good reason. i bet you played some stupid prank on her at the academy or something.”
comically, his eyes widen. “how’d you know?”
as you open your mouth to reply with ‘because you’re riki’, the professor stops, gesturing to a small table under a bright light behind her.
“here we are, i assume you’ve already had the lecture of what it means to have your first pokemon?”
you nod, while riki watches dumbly. “yes professor.”
“then, you may pick one,” she states.
instantly, you freeze up.
there lay three shining red pokeballs, each in their own little capsules on display to the two of you.
that’s when it hit you that this was fully happening. the moment you’ve been waiting for since your first day at the academy; the day you’d get your first pokemon — your partner for life.
you glance over at riki.
when it came to your childhood friend, it felt like you already had a partner for life, as cheesy as it sounded.
you shake your head, riki would tease the hell out of me if i said that out loud.
while you were in deep thought, riki had already walked closer to the three mystery pokeballs, ever so carefully grabbing the middle one.
he glances over to the professor, who’s studying his actions sternly. “do i just- can i..?”
“go ahead,” she deadpans.
you watch in awe as riki throws the pokeball in front of him, red light flowing out of it before a small, turtle like creature with a single sapling coming out of its head plops onto the ground. it was mostly a pale green with a hint of yellow on it’s chin and feet, and a small brown shell adorned it’s smooth back.
“oh my god, it’s so cute,” you squeak in awe, rushing over to pet the pokemon’s shell. riki grins, quickly kneeling next to you to do the same. you fail to notice how every so often, his gaze bounces over to thoroughly take in your beaming expression rather than the little creature before him.
“that one is turtwig,” professor bonsai informs. “he’s a grass type, and the shell on his back is made from soil, which hardens when he drinks water.”
when riki scratches under turtwig’s neck, the creature chirps in delight, leaning into his touch more than yours. “guess i’ll have to buy lots of water,” riki declares, “i’ll choose him.”
without another moment of hesitation, he picks up the small pokemon, holding it in his arms happily. turtwig wiggles around, licking riki’s fingers and making the boy giggle cutely.
you gaze at them in desire, impatience rushing through you. riki observes as you pace over to the remaining two pokeballs, hesitantly taking the left one. the ball feels stable in your grasp, so shiny that you could make out your reflection reflecting onto the red lid. “pick a good one, dummy,” he cheers you on cheekily.
you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, still smirking as you gently throw the ball before you. rather unceremoniously, a small blue penguin flops out of the ball, face planting right onto the hard floor with an ugly chirp.
professor bonsai sighs, and riki bursts into a mean cackle. meanwhile you gasp, rushing over to help the pokemon up and into your embrace. “poor thing, are you okay? i’m sorry, i must’ve thrown it too hard.”
in response, the penguin puffs out its chest stubbornly, yet its expression screams that it’s embarrassed. the creature’s tiny yellow beak was slightly in a pout, and it took everything in you to not boop it fondly.
professor bonsai rubs her forehead. “that’s piplup, her species is rather clumsy yet very prideful. she has a hard time accepting food from humans and bonding with trainers that try to get close to her — and as you can see, she puffs out her chest whenever she falls down, which is quite often due to her poor walking abilities.”
contrary to the woman’s words, piplup seemed to enjoy your presence, peering up at you in satisfaction as you rubbed her tummy. however, when riki walks over to pet her as well, there was nothing to prepare him for when she decides to rudely peck his hand.
riki jumps back, nearly dropping turtwig. “ow!” he whines, and you swear you see the professor snicker proudly in the background.
“that’s what you get for laughing at her,” you declare, sticking your tongue out teasingly. piplup, who was now completely relaxed in your hold, sticks her small tongue out as well, making you burst into laughter. “if it’s okay, i’ll gladly take her, professor.”
she nods, nudging her glasses up with the tip of her finger. “very well then. do you both know where to go from here?”
“yeah,” “no,” you and riki blurt in sync.
unsurprised, you roll your eyes. “don’t worry, i have him under control.” with piplup sitting carefully on your shoulder, you grab riki’s forearm, quickly leading him out. “thank you professor, we’ll be sure to repay you!”
———
“i wanna be the very best, that no one ever was! dun dun du-dun, to catch them is my real test, to train th—ow!” riki pauses his serenading, cradling the arm that you’d pinched rudely.
“shut up, i’m trying to read this useless piece of shit,” you bark. “seriously who drew this thing? even you could make a better map than this!”
it’s quiet for a moment as the four of you continue wandering to who knows where, piplup fast asleep on your shoulder while riki and turtwig searched around cluelessly. there were freakishly large trees surrounding every mile of land, and lots of patches with wild grass that you both made sure to steer clear of; the last thing you needed was to fight wild pokemon before you could even buy pokeballs at the next town.
originally, you suspected that going from the lab to route one would be a piece of cake, but clearly not everything could go perfect in a day. unless you were reading it wrong (which you probably were), your map sent you in repetitive circles — and of course, the boy next to you didn’t provide much support.
abruptly, turtwig lets out a small chirp of his name minutes later, gesturing backwards with a prompt nod. riki follows his pokemon’s guide, eyes widening a fraction. “hey dummy, we’re looking for route one.. right?” he suddenly inquires, tapping your shoulder.
you roll your eyes, “yes, i told you that like an hour ago—“ you finally look up from your map and follow the boy’s gaze, jaw hanging off your face when you see a giant, obnoxious white sign reading ‘route 1’ on it.
you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. you were supposed to be on map duty while he kept an eye out for the destinations you read off. “you’ve got to be kidding me! riki, you were supposed to be looking for that humongous thing right in the middle of the forest for the past hour, are you blind?”
“i don’t know, turtwig didn’t see it either! i was just.. excited,” he defends.
how on earth am i supposed to survive with this idiot? you huff, folding up the map and throwing it into your backpack’s side pocket. next to you, riki has a small, discouraged pout on his lips, walking with his head slightly down.
his posture makes your eyes soften, guilt rushing through you as you reach up to pat his shoulder gently. “it’s okay, ki. sorry for yelling,” you apologise quietly.
riki kicks a rock into the air out of impulse, and you watch as it rockets all the way into a near patch of grass with no mercy. “nah, i deserved it anyway.”
then, an angry squak rips from the grass in front of you, right where riki had booted that stone.
you grip his shoulder in concentration, patting piplup awake with your other hand. “riki..”
“no y/n, seriously,” he insists, “i really do need to start focusing. we’ve only just left and..”
while he blabbers, you’re busy witnessing a raging flock of pidgeys fly up from the tall grass, furiously glaring down at the two of you.
“riki!” you holler, yanking him by his backpack. piplup is chirping frantically, holding on tightly as you grab riki’s hand and pull him behind while you sprint for your life.
the wavy haired boy has barely processed anything; nearly tripping on his own sneakers. when he looks back and realises the situation, riki’s eyes double in size comically. one pidgey hurls a small whirlwind right at him, and he narrowly dodges out of the way milliseconds prior with the help of turtwig’s warning chirp. “holy shit! what the hell do those ugly pigeons want!?”
“that rock you kicked must’ve hit one of them!” you scream your reply, anxiously feeling the birds getting closer. they were all scowling aggressively, clearly not up to discuss or show mercy.
just as you prepare to speed up even more, you feel the warmth of your neighbour’s hand get pulled away as a strong, angry gust yanks you away and down to the ground, piplup rolling off your back in the process and leaving riki screeching to a halt. your elbows and knees burn from scraping against the dirt, and the spinning in your head emits a groan from your lips.
nonetheless, you turn yourself onto your back in determination, sitting up on your palms again achingly. “get out of here!” you order riki, “me and piplup can deal with it.” the blue penguin chirps in agreement as she gets up herself, stretching her tiny arms and puffing up her chest again in an attempt of intimidation.
the pidgeys have almost caught up to the both of you, yet riki refrained from standing down; instead rushing to stand in front of you defensively. “no y/n, i have to do something helpful today,” he snaps. “turtwig, use razor leaf!”
riki spoke confidently as if he’s done this a million times before, yet it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that this encounter was both of your first ever real battles.
your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at his command. “what— but— riki no! grass types are unaffective against flying types, we learned this in—“
it was too late — turtwig had already jumped in front of you in obedience to his owner, throwing an attack at the brown creatures with an angry howl.
but just as you’d explained, the normally sharp leaves had barely any effect on the pidgeys, only infuriating them further as they grouped together to summon another giant whirlwind at you.
right as the tornado spins towards you, you feel riki rush over and wrap his body around you protectively, shielding you for whatever’s to come. his arms felt surprisingly sturdy and warm, opposing the powerful body of wind firing your way.
at the same time, a new voice breaks the silence of your accepted defeat. “watch out, you two!”
you feel riki squeeze you tighter just before everything turns black.
———
it takes you a couple tries until your eyes fully open. the peaceful silence keeps you calm as you slowly but surely wake up, taking in the white hospital room accompanied with a quiet beep of a monitor next to you.
at your awakening, piplup coos in greeting from the pillow beside you. “hey cutie,” you greet with a smile, patting your pokemon’s head affectionately.
“oh, thought you were talking to me.”
you quickly turn over to your other side to see a dishevelled riki in a bed of his own, raven hair sticking up in all directions and a blue hospital gown adorning his figure. he has a couple bandages wrapped around his arms, and your chest tightens when you see slight hints of blood seeping through then.
at his words, you sigh. it amazed you how your neighbour managed to joke around even in a situation like this. “how’re you feeling?” you ask with worry.
riki looks away, staring up at the white ceiling emotionlessly. “useless, stupid, a failure.” you frown further. “besides that, just peachy.”
“it was just a mistake—“
“i’ve made enough of those, don’t you think?” he snaps, now completely turned on his other side to avoid eye contact. “and that time it wasn’t just another fuck up, y/n. you could’ve got hurt.”
your brows furrow, mind flashing back to how hard riki tried to protect you throughout the entire attack, no matter if he was endangered in the process. “and what about you, ki? sure, you messed up, but instead of running away like some people would, you tried your hardest to fix it and take responsibility.” the boy remains motionless, breathing slowly against his white pillow. “even when those pidgey’s nearly swept us off into a damn tornado, you still tried to protect me instead of yourself for some stupid reason.”
he scoffs. “c’mon y/n, you know damn well what that reason is.”
“what? no i d—“
“i care about you, like, a lot. i fucking like you, dummy.” at last, riki sits back up to face you, casually smoothing his hair down as if he’d just commented on the weather or what he had for breakfast. the boy scoffs as you freeze, rendered speechless with your lips parted dumbly. “geez, you’re acting like this is new information,” he deadpans.
in his head, you’d always known of his little-not-so-little crush, but just decided to stay quiet in hopes of not breaking his heart — which he secretly appreciated, even if it was the complete wrong approach to take.
meanwhile, you were spiralling. riki, as in nishimura riki — your idiotic neighbour, lifelong childhood friend, the boy who didn’t know that grass pokemon are useless against flying ones — liked you?
suddenly, you feel a demanding peck on your arm, which happens to be piplup sending you a ‘stop sitting there uselessly before something flies into your mouth’ glare.
you gulp, making hesitant eye contact with him. “i- i really didn’t know, how- when?” you exclaim desperately.
before your answers could be retrieved, the hospital room’s door is pulled open, revealing a handsome young male with jet black hair and sunglasses. a varsity jacket covers his built figure, along with a navy backpack thrown over his left shoulder. his features and demeanour were all extremely sharp and intimidating, which you suppose matches the charmeleon that follows close behind him.
the boy removes his eyewear, surveying you up and down before doing the same to riki and releasing an amused chuckle. “finally. you newbies were out all night.”
riki grunts. “who are you?”
“call me jay, the one who saved your asses.” he explains, leaning up against the wall with crossed arms. “which reminds me, you little dorks owe me big time. took me and my buddy here lot’s of energy turning those pidgeys into dinner.” his tone was too difficult to read to assume he was kidding around, no matter how aggressively charmeleon growled in agreement.
you and riki shared a disbelieving look while jay lets out a yawn, completely unaffected by your lack of response. “y’know, i wouldn’t mind a cash reward too.”
“sorry for the trouble, and thank you,” you gulp. “i had some in my bag i think, you can—“
another round of laughter cuts you off. “i’m playing with you guys, it’s all good. how about you repay me by accepting the poor guy’s confession? i heard there’s a great first date spot up in sandgem town.” riki’s eyes widen at that, an embarrassing tint of red reaching his ears at the idea of the older male listening in on the past few minutes.
relievingly, a doctor shows up moments later. “sir, i’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to check on these patients in a minute.”
before his fortunate departure, jay sends one more glance between the both of you, winking at riki and leaving a teasing salute behind.
it was awkwardly silent once he was gone.
until once again, piplup delivers a gentle but demanding peck to your arm, snapping you out of your daze. you swallow in determination, attempting to build your confidence as you sit further up in bed. “riki, i—“
“it’s okay,” the male swiftly intervenes, “you don’t have to say anything, i already know you don’t—“
“riki!”
he flinches slightly at your raise in volume, sending you a bewildered glare. “what?!”
“geez, i like you too, idiot.” you get a blank stare in response for a good minute, which only comes to an end once a proud, approving chirp from piplup snaps him out of it. riki swallows, clearly not prepared for such an outcome judging by his hands that fidget with each other endearingly.
“oh,” he replies uselessly, ignoring the headbutt turtwig punishes him with moments after.
of course that was all he had to say.
you roll your eyes, hopping off your bed to begin searching through your backpack. it’d be better to simply change the subject if he’s going to react like this, isn’t it?
“jay mentioned something about sandgem being the next town, and that only means one thing. we’re all the way back in twinleaf. so i guess we’ll have to—“ when you look up from the map, you freeze at the view of riki standing in front of you, holding a look in his eye that differs from any one that he’s given you previously. he reaches for the map and places it gently on the bed, taking another step closer to your figure.
your breath immediately hitches. despite the messiest bed-head imaginable, bloody bandages, and his outfit being nothing but an unappealing hospital gown, your best friend never failed to look good, and it was about time you pointed it out. “y/n, do you mean it?”
you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant. “yeah.. do you?”
before you knew it, your jaw was being cupped ever so softly by his palm, and when you didn’t reject his touch, riki leaned down to connect his lips with yours. it wasn’t rushed or frantic — no, your reckless best friend managed to kiss you so gently, you think he’s imagining you poof-ing into the thin air if he moved any rougher. his other hand attempts to bring you closer by the waist, but the action only results in a pained hiss due to the bandage-clad injuries decorating his skin.
pulling away reluctantly, you reach up to squeeze his shoulder while desperately attempting to hide your giddy smile. “y’know, i always imagined you’d be a messy kisser.”
riki smirks. “i can be if you want me to, dummy.”
at the sound of his nickname that you’ve annoyingly got accustomed to, you pout. “you’re really still gonna call me that?”
his lips press against yours once more, effectively shooing your pout away. “of course, you think being your boyfriend would make me change or something?”
huffing, you reach down to put the map back into your backpack, accepting defeat. “whatever, we should get out of here before the doctors come.”
“okay.. wait,” riki’s eyes brighten mischievously, immediately sending a worried expression to your face. “so.. you’ve imagined kissing me?”
shit.
“…piplup, use water gun.”
if you enjoyed, reblogs + feedback are always appreciated n’ motivating!
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year ago
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yandere! rich! nerd oc x poor! popular! gn! reader short - midnight darling
guess who got recently got accepted into the biology course in ateneo and is binge watching gilmore girls as inspo? (it’s me. on cloud 9 rn augh-) have this as my tiny celebration. been a while since i wrote for midnight darling ehe.
starting our pride month posts w/ our genderfluid masochist nerd who technically is the most popular oc of mine, isaiah/Isabel!
cw/tw: bullying, harassment, toxic parents
status: unedited and rushed af
“Papatayin na talaga kita.”
You weren’t always the perfect pristine popular student. Acting didn’t come to you naturally. You had to learn through trial and error; through fire and metal. You didn’t always had an iron grip over your emotions and what slipped through.
As such, at that moment you first met Isaiah — who now went by another name — you couldn’t help but shower them with the hostility of cat seeing another enter its territory.
“I - I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to —!”
“When I make promises, I follow through with them.” You covered their mouth before he could even complete his stupid waste of an excuse, “I promised to bring you hell when you broke my project last semester, and I did.”
You recount the days you spent making sure Isaiah experienced true suffering; getting rid of their friends, destroying his family’s fortunes, putting his reputation through the mud and stomping on it til it bleeds so that even if you did nothing the rest of the students in your school would do the job for you.
But even then…
“I promised to the entire student body — to this entire school that I will be the one that uplifts it. That I will make it known throughout the country as the one that miraculously got a student to Mediasnoches.”
Tears escaped your eyes. How long has it been since the last time you legitimately cried? It had been so long that you started to think you were simply completely incapable of it. How could you cry when you were too busy to even feel? Hours and hours spent on studying, making notes, reviewing those notes at least ten times, making flashcards and schedules, drowning yourself in extracurriculars. Your schedule just didn’t have space to be a sobbing mess.
“I promised my mom and dad . . . na kahit ano man mangyari — ma . . .matatanggap . . . “ Your hand slipped and fell to your side. You legs give up, and any semblance of calm left your visage.
Your face covered in snot and tears was an unfamiliar sight to your classmate. He who had studied it day and night, hated it, loved it, cherished it. He had no doubt it was the most beautiful he had ever seen you been. But the problem was that he wasn’t the reason you were like this. At least not completely. It was their stupid parent’s fault for influencing the results.
His arms encircled your form as he cooed.
“I’ll … give up my spot for you okay? Don’t cry. You deserve it alright? I don’t. I’m just a kid with too much money on their hands like you said…”
So, until the time they could make you cry with their actions and their actions alone, your sobs had to stop.
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[ TRANSLATIONS ] :
Papatayin na talaga kita — I will really (fucking) kill you.
Na kahit ano man mangyari — That whatever happens
Matatanggap — Will be accepted
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edith-is-a-cat · 1 year ago
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Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader (No pronouns used or mentioned, can been seen as romantic and/or platonic, and written in second person)
Word count: 651 TLDR: Showing Malleus Howl's Moving Castle with a side of some sad thoughts. Comments: I honestly think Malleus would love Howl's Moving Castle. I may be bias because it is my favorite movie..
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You are sitting in Ramshackle after the events of Idia's overblot, still having so many memories of previous ones on your mind. You're laying on the couch trying to think of what to do to take you away from the intruding thoughts of what could go wrong next. Grim is already asleep even though it just barely hit sundown. You decide to take a walk.
You throw on an old hoodie from when you first arrived, it gets surprisingly cold in Wonderland at night. Just when your hand meets the cool metal of the doorknob three solid knocks are heard from the other side. You twist the knob slowly creaking it open just enough to see who is there. Surprisingly, the figure was familiar, looming and almost eerie in the low lighting, Malleus Draconia. "Greetings, child of man." the still shrouded figure softly spoke, as if he could spook you, "May I come in?" You nodded as you opened the door for him. Why not, company could be better than a walk to shut your nagging and anxiety filled thoughts up. Your eyes follow Malleus as he walked around like he knew this places as well as the back of his hand. You invite him to sit down in the lounge while you go back to rummage in your room for anything to entertain the prince with. You carefully sift through your belongs that have been mostly in your room's closet ever since you arrived. As luck would have it you were going to a sleep over when you were almost ran over by that damned carriage. You wonder if your friends worried where you went... you stop your thoughts right there. No time to worriedly wonder about your presence back on Earth, you had a guest over. You continue to rifle through your closet when you reach into the bottom of your old backpack for your hand to hit something hard. You pull it out to see it was a DVD copy of Howl's Moving Castle. Score! you found at least something to show him, hopefully he will take an interest in it. You shake off any dust that might have gathered on it, you were going to watch it at that sleep over. If Malleus was to stay the night then you guess its quest would be fulfilled. Either way it would be fun showing him something from your world. You go back to the lounge with your prize from the hunt in hand. Holding it up like a certain lion cub. You look to Malleus, who sits perched on the couch, for any comment. He cocks his head as he softly asks, "If I may ask, what may you be holding?" "Movie, from my world." You proudly say as you beeline over to the TV and all the tech stuff you got as an apology for what happened with the last overblot. You have to take a minute to look around the TV and figure out which gadget would work with what gizmo. After a taking an almost saddening amount of time turning on everything, you grab the remote from it's spot on the TV cabinet. You then turn and take your spot by Malleus. You finick with the remote until you can finally get the correct setting to work the TV. Malleus looks at you with pity but decides it's better for you to learn by yourself. You eventually figure out how to work most of the remote and have satisfied yourself with the setting enough to finally play the movie. "I really think you are going to like this" you chirp as you lean back into the couch. The prince silently nods as he intently watches the the TV. Oh, only if you knew what you had done. He did not stop talking about it for weeks, even suggested commissioning a gargoyle of Howl's bird form.
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Ending comment: Uhm! Hi!! thank you for reading.. I wrote this in Auburn's inbox and though "eh I'll post it too"
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souperbloom · 7 months ago
Note
5sos!reader is genuinely one of my fav tropes omg?? i would love it if you could do smth along the same lines for luke <3
omg i’m so sorry this took me so long to get out. i was pondering on ways to make it perfect since this was such a general request, (i wrote 3 separate stories and hated all of them) but i hope y’all love what i came up with !!! <3
————
crowd pleaser. [l.h.]
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omg i love this gif
bandmate!reader x Luke
in which the final show of tour calls for some ~celebration~
ended this one hella abruptly i’m sorry— i ran out of steam & wanted to get this out LMAO
CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of drinking, exhibitionism (kinda)
WORDCOUNT: 3.8k
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“How long until soundcheck?”
The disembodied voice gives you a fright, but when you snap around to see your boyfriend standing at the door frame of your dressing room, your startled face morphs into a smile.
“Scared the shit outta’ me,” you mumble, turning the pegs of your guitar until each string was in tune.
“I asked a question,” Luke chuckles, skipping past your chair to lean against the wall across from you.
“Dunno’. Maybe you should’ve looked at the clock before you came in here and bothered me.”
You bite back a smile, finding it hard now to concentrate on getting your guitar in tune. Luke steps behind your chair, anchoring his hands on your shoulders. He starts slowly massaging your neck, pressing his thumbs into the pesky knot that you can never seem to reach.
“Someone’s grumpy today, eh?” You could hear his pout, just by his voice alone.
“Not grumpy, no. Just— tryin’ to get shit done so I have some time to get my shit together before the show.”
Today was the final day of tour. Fifty shows, more countries and states than you could count; it felt surreal to say that you’d been traveling across the world to do what you loved most, let alone doing it beside four of your best friends.
The adrenaline level was high in everyone but yourself. You had decided that today would be the one day where you actually planned out your schedule, to allot some time for the emotions that are bound to flood when you realize that this would be your last time performing with your band for a while.
To put it simply, you wanted to lend yourself some time to cry. In a good way.
“You’re so tense baby,” Luke grumbles softly, digging his thumbs into your shoulder blades, “Want a drink or somethin’?”
“No, I’m good.” You give your guitar one final tweak before setting it down on its stand beside you.
“You sure? I’ll take a shot with you right now. C’mon. Let’s do it. One and done.”
“Luke, please,” you laugh, fully turning around in your seat to give him a good look, “It’s like, 3pm.”
“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Plus, the boys and I may have already ripped back a shot for some confidence.”
You roll your eyes, and Luke bends down to rest his elbows against the back of your chair. His lips are now level with yours and are just dying for a kiss.
“Confidence? Please. You boneheads would use anything as an excuse to get plastered. I swear, you and Cal would pregame a doctor’s appointment.”
Luke seems to read your mind, as he does quite often, and steals a quick kiss after your rambling is done with. His sandy blonde curls flop in front of his eyes, but you’re quick to tuck them behind his ear.
“Baby, come on. This is the finale. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”
“I think we both know that you and I have way different ideas of what it means to celebrate.”
You couldn’t help being so stubborn, it was instilled in you since birth. But Luke made it his mission, as your partner, to do anything in his power to get you to change your mind. And most, if not all of the time, he was quite convincing.
It takes you a few minutes to stand up, after Luke had kindly stepped in front of your dressing room door to basically block you from leaving. There was virtually no escaping his request for a pre-show shot.
But who says you can’t negotiate?
“Y’know babe,” you begin nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers as you approach Luke’s large, lanky stature, “I have a proposition for you.”
His eyebrows quirk in challenge, “Alright, sure. Since you won’t do a shot with me— Let’s hear it.”
You take a moment to admire him in his silky black button down. The way his braided silver choker sat just above his collarbone and glistened beneath the overhead lamps was making you swoon. You were the one that got him into wearing jewelry, painting his nails, dousing glitter onto his cheeks and eyelids; a bit of self expression. You’d told him that it would help with his stage presence, which was some advice he definitely needed at the start of this tour.
And of course, he took a liking to it. The same way he did with you.
“What if we did something else to celebrate?”
You step closer to him and press your index finger against his chest, trailing it down and catching it onto the top button of his shirt. His eyes bounce between your wandering digit and your face, as he urges you silently to continue.
“Something else, hm? Like what?”
“We could— pass some time.”
His body tenses up the moment you make a sly effort to undo that top button. Short, staggered breaths begin to leave his throat as you continue to taunt him with your stare.
“I’ve always been intrigued by pre-show quickies.”
Luke’s eyes widened at your brutal honesty, ocean blue pricked with sparkling icy streaks that had undoubtedly shifted into something a bit darker. You bite your lip, he returns, and it takes everything inside of him not to pull you in closer.
“Really?” he stammers slightly, the back of his knuckles grazing your midriff, “Since when?”
“Since I saw how fuckin’ sexy you looked in that shirt this morning.”
Luke smacks his teeth, tilting his head to the side and reinstating that dominant air he holds over you so well, “Well, I’m not— opposed to the idea, baby…”
You hum in reply, the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is how his hands felt crawling down to your hips.
“…But just so you know, we only have about twenty minutes ‘till call time.”
“So you did know how much time we had, you fuckin’ liar.”
He chuckles quietly, before pulling you into him and pressing his body against yours, “I just wanted an excuse to come bother you. You should know me a bit better by now.”
It was getting harder to just stand there and stare at your boyfriend’s pretty face— his big cerulean eyes and deep set dimples that made you want to just grab him by his cheeks and tackle him down to the floor. But you’re stronger than that. You started this dance, so you might as well keep up.
“I think twenty minutes is plenty of time,” you try your best at sounding confident and sensual, knowing that if he were to move his hand an inch closer to your thigh, you’d fold like a wet paper towel.
“Really?” He muses, subtly stepping you back further into the room.
“Yup.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
It was now a battle of who could keep the eye contact the longest without getting distracted. Now that there was a set time constraint, the stakes had raised ten fold.
“I think we could do better than twenty minutes. How’s fifteen? Maybe even ten?”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, gorgeous…”
In a daze, Luke spins you around and suddenly has your back pressed against the wall. You could practically feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as his hand travels up your chest and loosely grips the base of your neck.
“…You know I like to take my time.”
A quiet moan slips past your lips as Luke begins a trail of sultry kisses down your jaw, to the base of your collarbone. He kept his grasp on you firm, yet still loose enough for you to slip out if need be.
“Mmmh, baby—” you chirp, your head angling back to give him better access to the sweet spot of your neck, “the door.”
He pops his head up for a moment, only to take your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and stare you down with those cool baby blues.
“The door? Who gives a fuck about the door? Let ‘em hear it.”
You can’t really argue with that, so you just go limp in his arms as he continues to taunt you with his lips and tongue. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your thigh to prop it up against his hip.
What was once a journey of hickies and love bites had now transformed into a steamy make-out session. Luke groans into your mouth each time your hips swivel forward to meet his groin— you could barely contain the sounds that were echoing past your lips and bouncing off the walls of your dressing room.
You take a moment to catch your breath as Luke tugs at the hemline of your top.
“This. Off. Now.”
“Mmkay,” you sigh dreamily, following orders as it was now clear that Luke had taken the reins.
You manage to wrangle his lips off of your neck for a moment to allow you to peel your shirt over your head. But that split second felt like an eternity for Luke; for he had been dying to get his hands on you all morning and the last thing he wanted was to bother you.
But once you’d given him the signs that ‘bothered’ is the only thing you wanted to be, he didn’t think twice.
“Fuck, baby— been thinkin’ about you all morning,” Luke mumbles through his teeth, taking in the sight of your bare chest and simple black bra.
“Have you?”
“Mhmm. ‘Been thinkin’ about why my girl’s been so grumpy today. Guess she just needed a bit of attention, hm?”
Luke’s condescending words send a chill down your spine, along with that wandering hand of his. It had traveled towards your navel and hooked to the waistband of your skirt to pull you in even closer.
The only word you could muster was a simple curse word, a ‘fuck’, for good measure. But Luke didn’t seem satisfied with that reply.
“Is my girl gonna talk to me? Or am I just gonna stand here n’ talk to myself until she finds it in her to answer me?”
“Luke,” you whine his name yet still, his thirst isn’t quenched.
“C’mon baby— I know you can do it. You gonna’ beg for me? Like you always do?”
Your eyelids flutter closed in bliss, your hands on their own beating path towards the waistband of his skinny jeans. You could hear him tsk in disapproval before his hand is softly tapping against your cheek.
“Keep those eyes on me, pretty girl. Don’t think you can finish what you started?”
The moment you open your mouth to reply, you’re whipped out of this dreamlike state by a knock at your door frame.
“Ten minutes ‘till stage. We need everyone in the wings for a company meeting.”
The panic in your eyes immediately transfers over to Luke, who had flinched only slightly upon hearing your manager’s voice. You roll your lips inward, fighting a giggle yet still feeling vulnerable from the position Luke was holding you in.
“You got lucky, baby,” Luke leans down to whisper into your ear, “Saved by the bell.”
You eventually find enough confidence to tease, “Who says we can’t finish this later?”
“Uuuughhhhhh.”
He whines into your neck, his head hanging low and knocking against the wall with a disgruntled huff. You could tell by the way his body language changed that he was rather disappointed.
“Don’t whine, you sound like a child,” you giggle, playfully shoving his slouched body and sending him stumbling backwards.
With a bit of a fight, Luke groans, before picking up your shirt and handing it to you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Promise we’ll pick this back up later?”
You bite back a smile, and pull your shirt over your head. He physically winces once you fully put it back on.
“I promise. It’ll be like we never even left.”
After a moment of pouting and rolling his eyes, Luke fixes himself in your mirror beside you, gathering his thoughts and shaking his head clear as the two of you bicker about the impending final show.
“Maybe I’ll give you a little special something after the show tonight. My treat,” Luke announces proudly, fixing the collar of his shirt.
“Your treat? I’m intrigued.”
You let your mind run rampant as you sling your guitar over your shoulder, admiring your pretty boyfriend through the mirror as he fluffs his hair and double checks his eyeshadow.
“Mhm. But— only if you’re good. Gotta’ see you giving it your all out there.” Luke takes a wide step to tower over you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Oh please Luke, I’m always good. Good to you, good to the band— I basically have sex with the crowd every night.”
“Don’t go making me jealous now, baby,” he muses, “I’ll see you out there.”
Luke’s flirty goodbye is topped off with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s saluting you and waltzing out of the door like nothing even happened. You can’t help but stand in his place in awe, fiddling with the neck of your guitar impetuously as the thought of him floods your mind even more so than before.
This was about to be the longest fucking show of your life.
~
It was just about eleven and the show finally had come to a close with an encore.
To say that the energy was through the roof was an understatement; the crowd was consistently feeding off of the band and the last thing you wanted to do was to leave it behind. But, of course, you were dragged away by the fall of the curtains and the eruption of colorful confetti.
You blew kisses, gave hugs, and even managed to find some time to toss a few guitar picks down by the barricade. But what you weren’t expecting was followed after curtain fall, when your boyfriend had decided to scoop you and your handful of picks up bridal style, and run you offstage like a bullet.
“Baby, you were amazing out there,” Luke whispers hurriedly into your ear, still holding you tightly in his arms as he barreled down the hall away from the wings.
“Luke, where are we—?”
Your question is cut off abruptly by him tipping you over and planting you back onto your feet. It took you a second to regain your balance but in the moment that you did, Luke had you pinned against the cinder block wall of the backstage area.
The gaze in his eyes was ravening, restless— his pupils were shaking and his once crystal irises had flitted to a deep indigo hue. Your breath catches in your throat as he tries to collect his own, still carrying the fatigue of running with you in his arms.
“I owe you— something special,” his words are chopped up by staggered breathing, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. You reach up between your temperate bodies to wipe it away.
“You could’ve at least given yourself a minute to relax after the show, Lu,” you console softly, but Luke shakes his head frantically.
“No, no— no. Had— had to get you here. Now. Want you— right here.”
“Right here?” You whisper back, glancing over his shoulder at the empty hallway.
“Yes. Right here. Please, baby. Been dying’ to get my hands on you. Got me so fuckin’ worked up out there… Felt like I was suffocating.”
You watch your boyfriend's face flash a plethora of different emotions; tired, hungry, desperate, lovesick. All of the things you were feeling throughout your little pre-show rendezvous.
“O-okay… If that’s what you wa—”
“Do you want to? We don’t have to, I’m just— I couldn’t wait to touch you, baby.”
His voice trembles as he whines desperately, leaning closer into your ear with each syllable. It’s hard to ignore his vehement pleading, especially since you’d promised to pick up right where you had left off.
As you’re about to give him the okay to proceed, he flushes his body against yours. You could feel the rock solid erection that was held captive by his restricting uniform skinny jeans, and the feeling of it almost brought you to moan.
“Feel what you do to me, gorgeous? Can you feel how fuckin’ hard I am for you? Want you— want you everywhere, baby.”
In a daze you’re nodding and in no time, his lips are on yours like a magnet. It had become a frenzied jumble of clumsy touching and groping in a matter of moments, a few excited giggles slipping past your lips and knocking into his.
“Fuck, baby— So good to me, y’ always are.”
“Luke, please—”
You give him the signal and soon enough, you’re being shimmied out of your panties beneath your skirt.
Luke makes a sly face, taking your lacy intimates and shoving them in his back pocket. “For safekeeping,” he whispers playfully, before pulling you back into that hungry kiss.
His weathered palms traversed beneath your shirt and slid up and down your sides; poor Luke couldn’t decide where to place his hands. But regardless of his indecision, his touch felt transcendent.
“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” Luke mumbles into your ear, making sure to nip at the nape of your neck and a bit of your earlobe to get your blood pumping.
You could already tell that you were wet. Soaked, even, just by the hurriedness of this all. The rush you were experiencing was feeding into that leftover adrenaline from the show. You truly had zero complaints.
“Oh my God,” you whine, as Luke takes his time to mark up your neck, “Please, baby? C-can’t wait much longer.”
“That’s my girl,” he retorts, taking his hands and cupping your cheeks delicately as your body language begged for the feeling of him, “So polite, like always.”
Your hands had made their way to unzip his jeans and caress his bulge above the briefs that held it, whining softly as your fingertips graze a wet mark left on the fabric.
“Mhhh, messy,” you bumble, slowly tracing your thumb across the spot of precum.
Luke hisses in pleasure, a smile forming at the end of his cry, “See what you do to me? I’m a fuckin’ mess for you, pretty.”
You couldn’t find it in you to respond coherently as he guided your hand to slip his cock from out of his underwear. On instinct, you wrap your fingers around his length and slowly begin to pump him between your bodies.
A moan rumbled through Luke’s chest and suddenly the wetness pooling between your legs was becoming an issue. Each touch of his dick and caress of his hipbone was becoming more and more despairing. Like your essence was simply falling apart beneath his fingertips.
“Gotta get my girl up here,” Luke grunts, moving his hands towards the backs of your thighs and gripping them tightly, “Jump.”
You do as you’re told, jumping up and locking your ankles around Luke’s back as he feeds into your desires with more love bites and bruises. Your back was flush against the wall, with just the right amount of space for Luke to line his cock up with your entrance.
“Look at you. My little rockstar. Put on one show and now you’re lookin’ for an encore?” He jokes with you tenderly, yet the bigger half of you was more desperate for him than anything else.
“What can I say, baby? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”
You steal his reply with a rough kiss, hoping to distract him enough not to let him notice the rips and tears that your nails were dragging along his silk shirt.
He pulls away from you, staring deeply into your eyes like the two of you were the last two living humans on Earth. Your boyfriend definitely had an affinity for eye contact, no matter the scenario.
The notch in his brow deepens as he adjusts your body, prodding your entrance with his tip and drawing a soft whine from your throat.
“So wet for me baby— just couldn’t wait to soak my cock, hm?”
Luke also had a thing for asking you questions, the call and response deeply feeding into his bedroom-dominant persona.
“Yes, Lu— fuckin’ soaked for you. Played the whole show thinking about you fucking me...”
“Is that right?” he quizzes, leaning in quickly to nip at your bottom lip and pull it away from your teeth.
You hiss at the sharp pain, tasting a bit of metallic on your tongue, “Mhm. Honest. Had to give you my all out there. Just like I promised I would.”
“God, you are too good to me, gorgeous,” he tosses his head back in bliss, still blindly teasing your slit, “Bet my girl’s looking for a reward for all this good behavior…”
Right as your lips part to reply, Luke is ramming his cock up into you. You gasp in shock, yet slowly mold around the feeling of him as he roughly bucks his hips against you.
“Holy fuck, Lu— oh my God!”
His teeth sink down into his bottom lip as he begins his jagged rhythm of snapping his hips, his eyes staying planted firmly into yours. It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes on him; for you know that the last thing he wanted was for you to look away.
“Feels s’fuckin’ good, baby,” Luke groans, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises in place of his fingertips.
The feeling of his cock pushing in deeper with each stroke had your body doubling over, the air in your lungs being knocked out in time with the tempo that he claimed.
Your body was pushing it’s limits, each direct hit to your g-spot forced low mewls from your chest and serenaded Luke’s desires. He was loving the adrenaline mixed with the overwhelming craving that he had been fighting all night long.
Your breathing in sync was like a symphony, music to Luke’s ears— he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving you for later until he was quite literally forced to. But with each buck of his hips and every single moan spilling from your lips, he soon realized that maybe the wait was worth it.
“Gonna’ cum soon, baby— keep those eyes on me, okay?”
You bite back frantic tears that pricked your eyes, nodding sheepishly as you let him fuck up into you. The only sound you were capable of making was a weak whimper, but Luke didn’t mind.
“Cum on my cock, baby… Fuckin’ soak me—”
“You look so beautiful. My fuckin’ girl.”
All of these silky-sweet nothings were hitting you like a freight train. You were nodding in time with the movement of his hips, your tits bouncing between your bodies and your eyes threatening to flutter closed at just how good he felt filling you up.
You moan again, as does he, and you’re able to read his expression before he’s even uttering the words:
“Gonna’ fill you up, gorgeous. Cum for me, baby?”
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