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gudfornuthin · 29 days

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Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy spoilers #tua s4 spoilers #tua spoilers #tua s4 #x reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 months

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I was fascinated by this dome home, b/c it looks like someone doesn't know what a dome is, and made a ball. It also has a belvedere, which is usually on a Victorian roof. But, the 1984 Montauk, NY home is surprisingly nice inside. It has 3bds, 2.5ba, and they're asking $2.1M, reduced by $490K.

The large entrance hall fits a baby grand piano with room to spare.

It's an interesting home and like a giant piece of art. Notice the planter on the right is set into a square hole in the floor.

Look at the ceiling. It reminds me of some sort of DaVinci contraption. And, look at the angled wall held up by a column. It's really a work of art. The belvedere looks like the bottom of a hot air balloon.

This is quite nice- speakers on the ceiling aimed at the sofa and two big windows.

The French stove is gorgeous and I would move the table and chair over to make it a focal point.

Surprisingly, the kitchen is huge. Look at the size of it. So many cabinets. The drawback is that it's so spread out, but the actual work triangle is contained in a nook.

Here's Bd. #1- look at the floor. That's a lovely nautical touch.

In Bd. #2 there's another inlaid pattern, but the bed is over it.

Nice shower room.

Bd. #3 seems to be the primary bedroom b/c it has direct access to the bath.

This is unique.

I'm not sure, but this might be the ladder to the belvedere. It folds and fits neatly into the wall like an attic ladder.

Here we are in the belvedere, a roomy observatory with benches and a table for entertaining or a cozy family space. But, wouldn't it make a great art studio?

I'm surprised that the home has a basement. Look at all the paintings, the owner must be an artist.

Outside there's a nice deck with a built-in bench.

The exterior needs some work- replacement shingles and landscaping.

The price is high, b/c this is Montauk, Long Island in NY (in the posh Hamptons). It's near the Montauk Lighthouse and that must be a community pool. It's on the shores of Lake Montauk, but it flows into the Atlantic Ocean.

Montauk is located at the tip of Long Island.

9,583 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/54-E-Lake-Dr-Montauk-NY-11954/32653449_zpid/?

#dome homes #unique homes #unusual homes #architecture #homes in the hamptons #houses #house tours #home tour

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p0rk-guts · 20 days

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He's finally done I think. WOAW! Radio demon time!!!

Okay time for comparison + breakdown rant ^ - ^ another SUPER long one I had a lot to say about this silly guy

ALRIGHT. So. Atp all that can be said has been said about Alastor but I'll gloss over it anyhow. Grossly historically inaccurate hair and clothing. Invisible deer theming. One of the main reasons he's got one of the most clowned on designs in the show is bc he's a pretty good representation of the worst it has to offer. He's absurdly red and has the waspiest waist in town. Also gotta zero in on the coat for a second bc I find it incredibly stupid that he went to that tailor bc of his coat being ripped and then left the shop with the exact same torn coat on oh goddd that felt like a complete joke who wrote this

Also his "redesign" was pointless. He stayed pretty much entirely the same except his colors got pinker and grosser and now he has this?? White trim on his lapels??? Even less 1930's accurate and it only serves to hurt the pallate in my eyes. It's the only spot of white on his entire design, it doesn't appear anywhere else so it throws it all off. And it's so bright. Is it supposed to be a focal point?? His tits????

Anyways onto my guy who I love so very deeply. I'm pretty sure sepia film was outdated by the 1930s but I gave him a palette inspired by it to emphasize how dated and stuck in old ways he is. Added blood red accents bc. Well. Cannibal murderer. Also bc I redid the sin colors so red is wrath and it seems like a fitting sin to pair him with.

After looking into 1930's men's fashion a tiny bit (thanks anon, this video was helpful!) and gave him a double breasted coat but wider and pointier so he looks a little less like just some normal guy and really emphasize how prideful and egotistical he is. "Ooo look at me I'm super big and imposing and powerfulll". I think it's a fun character trait of his. Definitely keeping it.

I liked him wearing gloves bc I feel like he wouldn't like getting his hands directly dirty and would always be covered when committing his murders. Maybe he's a germaphobe even. "I can excuse murder but I draw the line at dried blood on my skin". Also the gloves being white would contrast really well with blood so. Love that

I gave him a long tie to free him from the Vivziepop bow tie uniform and a fedora to add to the 1930's vibe and serve as something that can occasionally obscure his face in shadow. His glasses are also opaque and I imagine his eyes would rarely be shown if ever to make him seem more inhuman and off-putting, disconnecting him from personhood a bit. Wanted to add to that with his smiling mouth never opening and just being a static grin that can only occasionally widen or lessen, his voice cracking out of his "speaker" with fuzzy radio static. Seen multiple ppl use that idea and it always eats

I love Alastor's silly theatric nature (primarily in the pilot) and I'd probably keep it, but I'd add a layer of uncanny-ness to him where when he's not putting on his silly jovial facade, he gives off an unnerving vibe. Trying to appear approachable and charming and pleasant to lure people in before he's revealed to be less than human. Loveee thattt

I love Alastor being a deer. Predator becoming prey (animal) + "prey animal" lulling people into a false sense of security before striking. Love it. We should be CAPITALIZING ON IT❗So I gave him deer like legs, visible deer hooves, and more readable deer ears + the ham radio tower antenna antlers (sorry 4 calling them horns 💀)

Tried to make it a little more obvious that he's a mixed man of color by giving him dark wavy hair and the faintest hint of lip definition Viv uses in her style. I think it works. He's still not dark skinned tho

LASTLY the mic. Also not an original idea as I've seen tons of others turn it into a carbon mic but turned into a pentagram shape and I love the idea a lotttt so I joined the crew.

AND THAT DOES IT!!!! hope u like him as much as I do hehe. Just 1 supplemental doodle this time sorry :/ showing off how his face is probably obscured most of the time. He's. So hard to draw. I'm just bad at men but I'm tryinggggg guys

Alsoooo I've already finished the drawings for Niffty, Angel, and Husk! Once I've finished their breakdowns I'll add em right to the queue, and then I'll make a post with all of the main 6 together :3

#my art #digital art #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor redesign #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel rewrite

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takingthehobbitswhere · 11 months

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fivefourthree.

Summary: Jason Todd getting feelings for someone he just met. In a flower shop of course.

Word count: ~2840

A/N: Well, well look who finally posted another piece. I am so sorry. Might be sort of character accurate, might not be - all I know is I'm doing this instead of a speech I'm supposed to be writing. Oops.

Warnings: strong hints of spice

jason todd x f!reader

The door had barely creaked open when the bells tied to the entryway alerted you to a new presence. A stifled sneeze made you look up from the bouquet you were cutting, towards a head of curly black hair glowering as he wiped his nose. Keeping him on the edges of your vision, you leaned back down to your flowers as he started to mill about, gently fingering the colorful blooms. After crossing in front of your workspace for what was at least the fourth time you sighed, cleared your throat and spoke. “May I help you?”

The boy spun around, hands in the air, and sauntered over, placing his hands on the counter. “Yes.” He looked at you intently, eyes almost seeming to shift from blue to green and back. “What kind of flowers scream I hate you, and I don’t plan on forgiving or forgetting any time soon?”

You tried to fight a smile as you turned to evaluate your stock, nodding. “Sounds serious. Let’s see what I have here. Ah, petunias, orange lillies, butterfly weed-”

“I’ll take all of them.”

“Do you have an hour?”

The boy looked down at his watch, then up at the flowers, back down, then at you. “Yeah, yeah I got time.”

You hummed in response, already in motion. Choose. Cut. Prepare. Working in near silence, a tinny speaker letting out strains of a somber piano was the only accompaniment. He watched you as ten minutes ticked by before uttering a single word. You had expected him to leave, but you had to admit you appreciated the company.

“How long have you been doing this?” He asked, leaning over the counter.

“Almost four years now. I learned from a older lady in my building when I first moved, and haven’t looked back.”

“Well, your arrangements out front look incredible.”

You looked up, finding him staring at you with something that resembled a smile on his face.

“I'm Jason.”

“[Name].”

Greenery. Focal. Fill. The space filled with silence again, but ever so slowly, over the next forty-five minutes, you found yourself opening up to each other, laughing the most you have in months, telling the safe pieces of your stories, until begrudgingly, it was time to hand off the bouquet. The time, however fleeting, was refreshing. Wrap. Finish.

“Well, here you are.” You pick up the flowers, extending them to Jason, a shy grin on your face as your eyes meet. His fingers brushed your hand, startlingly cold. “I hope whoever’s getting them is properly accursed for their wrongdoing.”

“I’ll make sure to tell my brother that. Just for insurance purposes, I’m going to need your number. Can’t leave you without an update can I?” He grinned cheekily, ripping off a small piece of the bouquet’s wrap paper and slid it across the counter.

With a sigh, you picked up your pen, tapping your chin.

“And collateral, for the allergies,” He whispered.

A small chuckle escaped, and with a flourish, you handed the paper back to him, number, name, and all. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Almost out the door, bells ringing again, Jason paused, lifting his hand in a wave. “See you tonight!” he called. Before you had a chance to react, he was gone.

It rang through your head the rest of your shift, a reoccurring distraction as you gathered arrangements, watered flowers, and helped customers. A timer rang somewhere in the back, shaking you out of your reverie, a violent reminder to start closing the shop. Finally.

Humid evening air greeted you, clouds parted for the summer evening. The walk home was pleasant for once, the smell of the city no longer trapped in the now-absent layer of grey, the sun’s glow casting a spell on everything it touched. The light framed in your apartment window warmed a spot on the wood floor, and gladly you sunk down, curled into it. The shorter, colder days always came too quickly for your liking. Peace settled into your bones, your eyes growing heavy.

A phone somewhere vibrated. Again. Closer this time. The buzzing danced along the floor til it reached you, waking you up. A hand, your hand, brushed the edge of the vibrating box, yours. Oh. OH. You became alert, fingers scrambling to grab the phone, hoping the call wouldn’t be missed. Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jason.”

“Long time, no see.”

“I don’t know if you’re free tonight, but I highly suggest you make it so because I’m inviting you to my favorite dive bar where you can enjoy some live music, my company, and most likely a free drink or two. And if that’s not enough, just know I’m extremely stubborn.” His voice came through tinny, but just enough you could hear the tease in his voice.

A beat passed. You bit your lip. “Okay. Count me in.”

“Great. See you there. Seven.” And with that, he hung up, leaving you once again in silence. Dang. It’s a date.

30 minutes later, you found yourself seated in front of your closet, practically every article of clothing you owned on the floor. By the time you grabbed your keys, you had settled for something slightly more than what you'd usually wear. Your phone buzzed again with an address. It was just a short walk. You weren’t worried. Living in Gotham for almost all your life greatly shifted your classification of dangerous.

The bar was in an older building, dilapidated in a sophisticated sense. You could see the orange glow through the windows, shadows moving about to the light thrum of music. Your nerves stirred in your abdomen, slowly climbing into your throat. Just open the door and step in. Inhale, exhale. In you went. The wood paneled interior gave warmth to the space, various stained glass lights hanging about the space. Booths and few tables decorated the space about the bar, a constant buzz of conversation barely discernible above the live band playing from a corner stage. A saxophone caught your attention, crooning as the drumset hissed in response. Everyone seemed in their own world. Watching the music so closely, you didn't notice the someone coming up behind you until they had placed their hands on your shoulders, bracing as you flinched.

"Hello, [name]," the voice, Jason's, whispered into your ear. A knot forming in your stomach as he barely brushed the back of your hair. Shifting, an arm was slung across your shoulders as he steered you gently towards an empty pair of barstools. Seated, you were able to look him up and down for the first time that night. He had changed, but He looked good. A simple black tee, arms tensed, the rest of his clothes the same. An appreciative look on his face as he took in what you were wearing.

"So, what'll it be for you two?"

"An old fashioned for me, and for her.."

"Wine. Red, please."

The bartender nodded, drifting to a waving patron, leaving you two staring at the counter. Jason shifted towards you, leaning onto his leg, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. "Loser of the pool game gets the first round."

So there you were, in a hidden corner away from the din of the bar, lining up your break. It had been awhile since you played a game, and you knew he let you go first to size up his competition. Five, four, three, two, on one you let the cue fly, the chain reaction hitting the triangle of balls into a thousand different directions. A striped ball made its way into the pocket, leaving the cue ball in a compromising position. Huffing, you took a sip of your wine, and leaned, ball ricocheting off the side of the table, knocking into stripes and solids with a clack. His move.

Jason paced around the table until he found an ideal angle, testing his shot, eyes peering through his shaggy hair. With the utmost precision, his target found its way into the same pocket you landed your ball in. Clack, another one off the felt. "What can I say? Beginner's luck."

You bumped him forcefully, rolling your eyes. "In your dreams."

He was always one up on you, an aggravating dance of hope and loss, and the table was looking bare. Focus. A brief moment of consultation opened a possible shot, one you had to take. Practicing with your cue, you stared the no. 13 ball down. Line it up, pull back, and release.. It sailed into the pocket, the cue ball aligned beautifully with another striped one. Jason looked on approvingly as you hit another into the pocket. The eight ball was all that was left. Your cue slipped, scratching the felt, causing you to hit it from the side, barely moving. Jason's turn.

Jason's smile was burning through your back; you didn't even have to turn around to know he was already celebrating. Or so you thought until he slipped his arms around yours, adjusting your hands until your shot was perfectly positioned. His breath tickled your ear as he said something about your almost victory. He was steady, still as he played the shot through in his mind. You felt him shift, drawing the cue back, and as you both exhaled, the tension released, the ball rolled neatly into the corner, disappearing from view. Nobody dared move, staring at where the white ball remained. Jason's arms seemed to twitch, tightening around you as he whispered, "I owe you a drink."

Nodding was the only command your brain seemed to transmit as you were released from his grasp, his hands retreating, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He came back, another drink in hand, another smirk on his face. Giving it to you, he gently grabbed your arm with his free hand, leading you toward the band you saw earlier. The space was hazier, the lights dimmer, and it was harder to keep your balance, even ignoring the wine you had already consumed. His grip transferred to your hand as you approached the throng of dancers, pulling you into it, disappearing into the thick of bodies.

Surfacing in the middle of the mass, fresh air was a welcome commodity amongst the sickly-sweet mix of sweat and alcohol. Jason didn't seem to be perturbed, wholly focused on you, the music swelling back into existence. You stared right back at him, the red lighting bouncing off your surroundings, casting a soft glow on his face, transfixed. His hand extended, and once again, he pulled you, this time into a dance.

Back nestled into his chest, your hand was around his, resting on your hip, his fingers barely brushing under your shirt. A compromising position, but oh, it felt so good. The buzz was starting to hit you, and it heightened everything. Swaying, you fell into rhythm amongst the others around you, a steady pulse from the bass seemingly keeping time to your pounding heart, trying to ignore how he pressed into you, lips floating over your shoulder, the crowd moving around you.

Jason seemed to respond immediately to your growing tenseness, his hands hovering over your skin, forehead leaning into the back of your skull. The song ends right on cue, and in the resulting silence to applause, he turned you around, looking directly into your soul. His tone dips softly as a new riff fills the air. “Are you okay?”

A beat passed, and you finally found the courage to return his gaze. “Yeah- I just needed a moment.” Breathing deep, gathering a smile, normalcy returns. You tugged him into a spin, and in response, he dipped you, a squeal escaping from your throat.

The hours passed in a liquid haze, the end dancing closer and closer, until finally, you stumbled onto the street, the cool air shocking sobriety into your system. A glance was shared through the neon haze, another look, nothing was said, but a conversation, a dialogue, deeper than either of you were aware, had just begun.

Fingers slipped through yours, drawing you in a direction you didn’t want to go. Your place was closer. Your place was safer. Let’s go there. A gentle pull from you was all that was needed, and there you stood, in front of your door. No memory was formed of entering the building, standing in the elevator, walking down the hall, but none was needed. He was here, in front of you, and that was all that mattered; the quiet want in his eyes as he crept closer and closer, the struggle with the door handle as he pressed his lips to yours, the tumble into the entryway as the door gave, and the catch as his hands stabilized your bodies against the nearest wall.

The hunger built, space was no longer a concept. One of you ended where the other began, feeding into each other, caresses turning to grabs, mumbles turning into gasps, never staying in one place for long. The agony, the ecstasy of it all. A single thought lingered, questioning the sanity of this decision, but you pushed it back, trapped it in a box, and simply gave in.

Coming up for air, chests heaving, you had tucked into Jason’s arm, oblivious as he slowly surveyed your apartment, taking in the 400 foot studio you called home, warm light filling every inch of the space from a corner lamp, a portable chess set on a nearby table. It wasn’t much, but he could tell you had poured your heart into making it comfortable, safe. It was an abrupt, welcome change of scene from what the man laying beside you knew. This could be his safe place.

Your breath evened out, and he just listened, occasionally shifting his gaze to your figure, back to the ceiling, reaching out to trace a path down your sheets. With his heart keeping steady, with the rhythm of your inhales, he felt his eyes growing heavy for the first time in a long, long time.

Jason shot upright, head pounding, struggling to focus in on the unfamiliar room around him. Oh. His eyes shot to where you lay, peaceful and still, relieved the outburst was ineffective. What am I doing here? Shifting to the edge of the bed, he ran his hands through his hair, exhaling firmly, forcing himself to reprocess the events of yesterday. Maybe he was flirting with this girl, maybe he saw a friend, but all Jason knew was he didn’t know what he needed. Not a relationship. Anything, anything, but that. He dared to look back at you again. You would hurt and suffer for his actions, and that would be irreparable.

With practiced stealth, he picked up his scattered clothes and slipped them on, not daring to use the bathroom, minimizing his presence. He hoped you would forgive him. Then forget. That was best. Cramming on his shoes, he took one last look at the space he would think about for many more nights in the next sequence of life and quietly closed the door behind him.

The boy’s mind was already whirring, solving the next problem before it could happen. The entire house would ride his ass for this. He was sure he looked ridiculous, for sure jogging back to his car. And running up his front steps. And trying to inconspicuously unlock the side door. He was halfway to his room when-

“Jason!”

As slow as humanly possible, he turned around, peering over the stair rail at a one, very interested Dick Grayson.

“Dude, did you actually hang out with a girl? Wait ‘til Bruce gets a load of this.”

Before Dick could take another step, Jason was flying down the stairs, grabbing his shoulders, staring him dead in the eyes. “Do not mention this to anybody. I know where you sleep.”

“Master Jason, you’re home-” Alfred stops in his tracks, analyzing the situation before him, deciding a simple nod and a dismissive bow would be sufficient for pretending he never set eyes on the situation in the first place.

Waiting until Alfred finished rounding the corner, Jason finally let go of his brother, firmly dusting Dick’s shoulders. “Sorry.”

Dick sighed, looking at him suspiciously. “I won’t let it slip if you tell me the details of your outing. Scout’s honor.”

“That’s– illegitimate. You? A boy scout?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Okay, I’ve changed my terms. Just make me a sandwich.”

“Fine.”

Dinner that night proceeded to be filled with Dick offhandedly chuckling to himself while everyone just offered questioning looks at Jason, afraid to ask. The scraping of cutlery was the only noise in the dining room, as he ignored them, stuffing another bite of chicken into his mouth. Every so often, a lighthearted comment was exchanged, but his heart wasn’t in it. All he kept coming back to was you as he stared at the bouquet on the table. His mind had convinced himself you would be fine, but his heart was telling him otherwise.

He knew he had to see you again.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #sorry i am so inconsistent oh my word

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mariacallous · 4 months

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On a sunny April afternoon in 2006, thousands of people flocked to the National Mall in Washington, D.C., for a rally with celebrities, Olympic athletes, and rising political stars. Their cause: garner international support to halt a genocide in Sudan’s Darfur region.

“If we care, the world will care. If we act, then the world will follow,” Barack Obama, then the junior Illinois senator, told the crowd, speaking alongside future House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. That same week, then-Sen. Joe Biden introduced a bill in Congress calling on NATO to intervene to halt the genocide in Sudan. “We need to take action on both a military and diplomatic front to end the conflict,” he said.

Flash-forward 18 years, and the prospect of genocide again looms in Sudan amid an explosive new civil war. But this time, there are no rallies, no A-list celebrities, no calls for outside military intervention. Few world leaders pay anything more than lip service to condemning the atrocities.

Fighting between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the rival Rapid Support Forces (RSF) paramilitary group has killed tens of thousands of people and displaced some 9 million since the conflict began in April 2023. The United States accused both sides of committing war crimes and atrocities and concluded that the RSF and its allied militias have committed ethnic cleansing.

Western officials and aid workers working on Sudan say they are vexed, and horrified, by the lack of international attention and resources the conflict is receiving—particularly compared to the global response to the conflict in 2006, which was the progenitor of the current conflagration.

If this trend continues and there is no forceful international crisis response, they warn, Sudan will likely collapse into a failed state and could face full-fledged genocide once again.

“You can’t help but watch the level of focus on crises like Gaza and Ukraine and wonder what just 5 percent of that energy could have done in a context like Sudan and how many thousands, tens of thousands of lives it could’ve saved,” said Alan Boswell, an expert on the region at the International Crisis Group.

The top general of the SAF, Gen. Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, and the head of the RSF, Mohamed Hamdan “Hemeti” Dagalo, jointly seized power from a transitional government in a coup in 2021. Tensions between the rival sides escalated and finally erupted into war in April 2023.

In the 13 months since, the RSF has entrenched its positions around the national capital of Khartoum, forcing the SAF to relocate its headquarters to the coastal city of Port Sudan. The RSF has made steady gains in seizing control of Darfur and advancing southward and eastward against SAF forces. The SAF still controls territories around Khartoum and up the Nile River, a vital strategic route to Egypt; along the Red Sea coast; and the eastern borders with Ethiopia and Eritrea.

The conflict has also expanded into a full-fledged regional proxy war. Egypt and Saudi Arabia, as well as Riyadh’s arch regional rival Iran, back the SAF, while the United Arab Emirates is reportedly funneling arms and military supplies to the RSF. The RSF also reportedly receives support from Chad and from Russia through its affiliated mercenary groups.

The focal point of the conflict now is on El Fasher, the capital of North Darfur and the center of fighting. The RSF has taken control of vast swaths of western and southern Sudan in its war against the SAF. El Fasher is the last SAF stronghold in Darfur, occupying a strategically important position for trade routes from neighboring Libya and Chad.

The RSF recently began its advance on El Fasher where an estimated 2 million to 2.8 million civilians have sought to take refuge from the fighting. (Precise figures are hard to come by.)

“The risk of genocide exists in Sudan. It is real, and it is growing every single day,” Alice Nderitu, the U.N. special advisor on the prevention of genocide, warned in a U.N. Security Council meeting last week.

A lengthy report from Human Rights Watch documented how the RSF and allied militias committed widespread atrocities, including mass rape, child murder, and massacres of civilians when it captured the Sudanese city of El Geneina last year. U.S. and U.N. officials and human rights experts warn that the same will likely happen if the RSF takes control of El Fasher, but on a much wider scale. The United States and aid groups have accused the SAF of blocking vital food aid from entering the country and RSF forces of looting humanitarian stocks, exacerbating the crisis and pushing regions of the country closer to famine.

“The potential fatality generation here is off the charts,” said Nathaniel Raymond, executive director of the Humanitarian Research Lab at Yale’s School of Public Health who runs a research project that monitors the conflict in Sudan. “What will happen when the RSF takes El Fasher? Exactly what is happening in every other place they control.”

“There is Hiroshima- and Nagasaki-level casualty potential,” he added, referring to the U.S. atomic bombs dropped on Japan in World War II that killed up to 225,000 people.

Aid organizations and officials who work on Sudan have long decried the relative inattention the conflict in Sudan gets compared to Ukraine or the war in Gaza. Some 20 million people—or 10 times the population of Gaza—are at risk of famine in various regions of Sudan. “Very few people who don’t work on Sudan know that Darfur is on the brink of famine,” Boswell said. “Obviously, everyone knows about the risk of famine in Gaza.”

U.S. President Joe Biden’s own social media posts about Gaza versus Sudan provide another, albeit imperfect, window into the attention each conflict receives. Biden tweeted about Israel or Gaza at least 107 times in the six months since the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attacks that started the Israel-Hamas war. Since the war in Sudan began over a year ago, he has tweeted about Sudan four times—three of which were about the evacuation of the U.S. Embassy in Khartoum right after fighting broke out.

Aid groups are strained for resources to tackle the humanitarian crisis caused by the war. In February, Doctors Without Borders warned that in one refugee camp alone in North Darfur, one child was dying every two hours of malnutrition. In April, on the conflict’s first anniversary, aid groups said the international humanitarian response plan to aid the Sudanese was only 6 percent funded. At a donor conference that month in Paris, countries pledged $2 billion more—though that is still only about half of what aid groups estimate the country needs.

Biden appointed a special envoy for Sudan in February—Tom Perriello, a former U.S. representative from Virginia and State Department veteran. Most experts have cheered Perriello’s new push to hold cease-fire talks in the months since and engage U.S. lawmakers on Capitol Hill to bring more levers of U.S. power and financing to bear on Sudan, but they also fear his efforts may be too little, too late for the civilians trapped in El Fasher.

“It will be very hard to deescalate the situation, though everyone should try. But there is an aura of inevitability that this is all going to blow up,” Boswell said. “The degree of mobilization from all sides is hard to walk down.”

Diplomatic and aid officials working on Sudan have some theories on why the atrocities in Darfur and across the country are receiving such little attention now compared to the 2000s, but none gives a full answer.

In 2006, the United States was still reaching the heights of its post-9/11 “war on terror” campaign. Sudan, under former dictator Omar al-Bashir, had given safe haven to Osama bin Laden as he built up al Qaeda’s global terror network, and “bashing Bashir and his genocide in Darfur couched nicely with [counterterrorism] priorities” of the U.S. government at the time, said Nicole Widdersheim, a former senior National Security Council official now with Human Rights Watch.

The memories of failed and successful international interventions to halt genocide—Rwanda in 1994 and the Balkans later that decade, respectively—were still relatively fresh in the minds of policymakers. The costly Western campaigns in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Libya that later exposed the shortcomings and blowback of military interventions were still underway.

It also preceded the current era of great-power competition, where Washington is intensely focused on countering Russia and China. Sudan also competes with the ongoing wars in Gaza and Ukraine for international attention and humanitarian resources. Others suggested racism built into Western foreign policy played a part. “It’s seen as yet ‘another war in Africa like all the others,’” said one official dryly. Not one single factor can explain it all, experts concluded.

“Gaza is taking up the always limited American public interest and activism on a foreign crisis, but to be fair, there was nearly no public activism or engagement on the Sudan war before” the Israel-Hamas war, Widdersheim said.

Experts say the relative inattention Sudan has gotten from the top echelons of the White House and other Western powers that could have influence in pressuring the warring sides in Sudan to sit for peace talks has led to the current protracted state of the war.

Biden hosted Kenyan President William Ruto for a state visit this week, where the two called on “the warring parties in Sudan to facilitate unhindered humanitarian access and immediately commit to a ceasefire” toward the end of a lengthy joint statement but did not elaborate further. U.S. Agency for International Development Administrator Samantha Power and U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Linda Thomas Greenfield have also been outspoken about urging an end to the conflict in Sudan.

Successive cease-fire talks in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, over the past year, brokered by the United States and Saudi Arabia, failed to clinch any lasting deal. Those talks were led on the U.S. side not by a top White House official or Secretary of State Antony Blinken, but by the assistant secretary of state for African affairs, Molly Phee.

Behind-the-scenes efforts by some members of Congress in December 2023 to appoint a special presidential envoy on Sudan—one who would report directly to the White House, rather than an envoy reporting to the assistant secretary of state—were unsuccessful, multiple officials and congressional aides said, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss internal administration dynamics. Perriello was appointed two months later.

Perriello in mid-April said that cease-fire talks would resume in Jeddah “within the next three weeks,” but so far those talks have yet to materialize. Several current and former officials familiar with the matter, who spoke on condition of anonymity to speak candidly, said the talks in Jeddah could resume in June, by which point the RSF could have already captured El Fasher from the mostly cutoff SAF forces.

“The need to start formal peace talks in Jeddah is absolutely urgent, and the United States is working exhaustively with partners to make that happen,” said a State Department spokesperson. “But we are not waiting for formal talks to begin—rather, we have accelerated our diplomatic engagements to align international efforts to end this war, mitigate the humanitarian crisis, and prevent future atrocities.”

Cease-fire talks have worked in limited ways in the past, such as when the United States got both sides to briefly stop fighting in Khartoum so it could evacuate its embassy in April 2023. “When the right leverage is put on the table at the right time to get the RSF and SAF to stop fighting, it can be done,” said Kholood Khair, a Sudanese policy analyst and founding director of Confluence Advisory, a Sudan-focused think tank. “The international community has just chosen not to deploy that same leverage this time around.”

Khair added that the Jeddah talks format has failed before, and it will likely fail again. “The concern is that because of the laziness and complicity of the international community at this point, you don’t have any diplomats who are looking for a new way of doing things. Jeddah in many ways is blocking the start of any new diplomatic efforts or other good ideas that could be effective.”

“Diplomats are fixated on Jeddah now, simply because it’s already there,” Khair said.

As Perriello engaged in frenetic diplomacy, he has also publicly marveled at how little attention the scale of the conflict and death in Sudan is receiving on the international stage.

“One of the things that to me captures just how invisible and horrific this war is, is that we don’t have a credible death count,” Perriello said during a congressional hearing in front of the 21-member Senate Foreign Relations Committee this month. “We literally don’t know how many people have died—possibly to a factor of 10 or 15. The number was earlier 15,000 to 30,000. Some think it’s at 150,000,” he said. During the course of Perriello’s hearing, senators cycled out of the room due to scheduling conflicts, often leaving only one senator in the room and 20 empty seats.

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akinternational · 2 years

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Grab an AK International portable speaker and take your beats on the go

Are you travelling, going to a house party or just tired of several wires lying around your house? Then portable speakers from AK International are here to your rescue! Naim Audio’s wireless speakers will make your party livelier and more upbeat with its newest edition Muso series. Read the article to know more.

Naim Muso is an award-winning wireless speaker series that will turn your boring one-dimensional listening party into a three-dimensional dynamic party. It provides spatial sound just like Dolby Atmos home theatre 5.1 that will make you feel you are live at the venue. So, if you are looking to buy a portable speaker, below are some of the benefits that will help you make a decision.

Benefits of Naim Muso Wireless Speaker -

Premium Wireless Speaker – Naim Muso 2nd Generation is a premium wireless speaker that is engineered and structured in England. As it is wireless, you don’t have to worry about thousands of wires on the floor getting entangled. The hi-fi mastery with leading technology is what makes it a premium high-fidelity audio equipment.

Single Box System – The new Naim Muso QB 2nd Generation is compact in size. It is a single box system which doesn’t require much space to be installed. It is portable so you can take it with you without any hassle.

Sound Quality – These portable speakers of Naim are integrated with Digital Signal Processor (DSP) which provides 2000 million instructions per second. This makes the transmission of the music more powerful and enhances its performance.

Easy to use – The Naim Speakers are easy to use. You can control it with an audio brain that comes with all the features. You can stream music from the latest music streaming applications such as Spotify Connect, Tidal, AirPlay. You can connect it via Bluetooth or also connect it using Ethernet or Wifi.

Stylish – The grille comes in 4 different colours- canard bleu, rouge terracotta, vert olive and grise. The cabinet design with aluminium casing is re-engineered to create 13% more internal volume which enables bigger and better bass. You can combine it with other Naim products, or AirPlay or connect with Chromecast.

Now that you are familiar with the benefits, go and buy the best portable speakers of Naim Audio from AK International and enjoy the crystal-clear audio of surround speakers on the go without any distortion.

#best portable speakers #naim audio #best home theatre system in india #home cinema theater #focal speakers #ak international #focal car speakers in india #focal speakers india #naim speakers #monster cable

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lovewillthaw-j · 22 days

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Frozen II big screen re-watch (part 1)

I had the privilege of watching Frozen II today on the big screen. I'm on a short trip to another state and for some reason, the cinemas there are doing a re run of F2. Boy, was it an emotional trip for me! I felt like I relived 5 years! I last watched F2 on the big screen in 2019 (pre-pandemic). F2 caused me to join Tumblr in Jan 2020 and it's my first ever Fandom.

F2 is definitely much better when you watch it on a big screen. The experience is just so much better. 1) the animation looks so good bigger. You can see micro expressions in the character's faces. The special effects are awesome. 2) the audio experience is so much better with good speakers with bass and surround sound. Both of these make it easier to not focus on the plot flaws.

I teared and teared throughout the show. You must understand, although my blog is quiet now, I was madly in love with F2 in the first year of my blog. Besides making hundreds of gifs, I also wrote essays on locations, the plot, the themes in F2, Elsa's powers, Anna's love, etc. I'm also a musician and the songs and score mean so much to me. I recorded myself playing the piano and guitar to Elsa, Anna, Iduna singing, analyzed musical motifs, made some discoveries of my own (Hansorcery most importantly), made a cappella versions of songs and some humorous mashups.

It was really a trip down memory lane today. I reminisced over scenes that I have giffed. Giffing is a process that makes you really familiar with the scenes as you go over it multiple times till the crop, timing and colour is just right. I was a noob when I first started, and I learnt along the way with help from friendly fans here. I was reminded of those scenes that took my breath away, scenes that made my heart go "awwww", scenes which are funny, scenes which have been focal points of my analyses. I remembered my boobs analyses (lol about how I ogled them for research), Elsa's see through back of travel gown, tender sister moments, cute Bruni gifs, beautiful scenes of the girls, my transition gifs of Elsa riding on Nokk, raw animation, and the list goes on.

I remembered all the music, music which I listened to countless times till I dreamt the music in my sleep (I kid you not, this is a thing that happens to me). I remembered my hair standing during the creepy scenes - the ship scene (on my very first watch I was so worried they were going to reveal the dead bodies of the parents😱) and Olaf dying scene (the 6 notes motif is sooooo creepy you know something bad is going to happen). I felt the power of the fight scenes between Elsa and Gale and Elsa and Bruni and Elsa and Nokk, and Anna vs the giants. I teared at the tender sister scenes in the bedroom and outside the ship. And I teared when Elsa gloriously outran the flood and stopped it with her mighty wall of ice.

I was enthralled by the songs once again. Especially the big three songs. Into the unknown, especially when Elsa steps into the magical forest created by her magic. Show yourself is all about Elsa, Elsa is sooooo gorgeous in that entire song, from her tied back pony tail look to her hair down look to her dress transformation. And for The Next Right Thing I felt how crushed Anna was and how Kristen Bell cried for real in the song as she recorded it. I teared as Olaf died in her arms and that was the moment Anna realized Elsa was dead too.

(I have more to write)

#frozen #disney frozen #frozen 2 #frozensource #disneynetwork

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artist-issues · 9 months

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Be careful of emotional music in movies and TV Shows.

By "be careful" I mean, when you're doing that thing I never stop talking about—you're trying to figure out why a moment in a story moved you—think about whether or not the story really set up and followed the moment through...or if they just threw a really emotional-sounding track/song over top of a rushed, cheap moment.

Like in the Vampire Diaries, or Suicide Squad, or an animated-streaming-movie. The characters will be saying something normal or maybe a bit cheesy to each other, the scene is about to end, and the storytellers don't have a good way to end it, so some song starts playing quietly under the dialogue. And suddenly you're feeling something, even though a second ago you were not that into it.

In the Vampire Diaries, it's usually The Fray. In Suicide Squad you'll get a punk-rock song as a new villains-enter-the-room scene starts...or several, every time a new scene starts.

In a streaming-budget musical, it might even be an original song with original lyrics that the characters are singing...

But pay attention! Music is one of the very easiest ways to engage a human's emotions. It's why influencers play inspirational piano music or covers of good movie soundtracks over what they're saying when they're trying to send out an encouraging message. It's why motivational speakers have a musical pad under everything they're saying. And yes, it's why movies use music, too.

And that is not a bad thing.

But what is bad is music that is used to try and make a moment impactful...but the story itself, and the characters in the scene, and the context of the scene, and sometimes even the lyrics of the song itself, can't support it.

The lyrics could be total crap—they could fail to fit the characters singing them, or the moment they're being sung during, at all—

—or it's an indie pop song that is actually about a friend with a drug addiction, but it's playing over, like, a scene where a young girl is saying "see you around" to the boy she has a crush on, so you feel all hyped emotionally.

It's cheap. It's silly. It's what Disney did in Wish (you knew this was coming, I've been on this topic for weeks)

Having Asha and Magnifico sing "At All Costs," which is a love song, to a room full of tangible bubbles makes zero sense. The song's lyrics only work if you're a pair of lovers declaring your devotion to each other—or, maybe, if you're a king and apprentice singing to actual people, not a room full of their daydreams. But!

The music is pretty. And it's literally engineered to be inspiring, and play with your heart strings. So you're sitting there going, "oh, wow, what a breathtaking magical song, I love it,"

but try and explain to me why you love it in connection to the story and there's nothing there.

Nothing that makes sense. You've just been emotionally manipulated by music. What you're really responding to is just the way the song sounds, and nothing else.

It's like the song (whether it's a musical number sung by the characters, or a piece of the score, or a pop song playing quietly in the background) is a beautiful set of curtains.

If you hang it up on a curtain rod, or even drape it artfully from the ceiling, it can do a lot for the space. It can make the place look bigger, or more comfortable, or show off the room's depth, or set off other pieces of furniture. It can even be a focal point.

But you know what the curtains need to do all that? A curtain rod. Something to be hung on!

If you just ball up the curtains and drop them in the center of the room, someone might walk in and go, "oh, are these curtains? They're pretty!" But you know what else they'll say? "Where are you going to put them? Why are they in the middle of the floor?" Because they don't belong there. The curtains are wasted on the floor.

Like a song that has no contextual meaning and is just laying in the scene like discarded curtains, arbitrarily playing with your emotions. Doesn't belong there; and what a waste!

So next time you really love a scene that has music in it at all, see what part the music plays.

If the lyrics make sense with the characters, if the story has reached a point where the song is all that's needed to accentuate the emotional depth that's already there, instead of creating it where it was lacking, then awesome. Now you can articulate what made you appreciate the song, so much better!

But if the lyrics made no sense with where the characters or the story was at; if it sounded pretty but didn't fit the scene; if it was the only emotional thing about the context of the scene—then it's not the story that you like. It's just the song, by itself. Add it to your Spotify playlist but don't say you loved that movie or that scene. You just loved that song.

Give credit where it's due instead of letting filmmakers trick you with cheap musical moments.

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joelswritingmistress · 10 months

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Last Halloween: Chapter 31

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

The passing of time began to heal the wounds that had been bestowed on you and Joel. Despite some initial reluctance, you agreed to talk to a therapist about being kidnapped by Vic and all that took place before and after. Joel had talked you into it, and agreed to go, himself.

By the summer, you felt almost back to normal; and those wounds turned into scars. Never forgotten, but no longer the focal point of your pain.

You passed the last of your practicals and exams. The final course you finished that summer and by the fall you had your nursing degree as planned.

It was October 1st when you handed your three closest girlfriends your last lump sum of money for the monthly rent on the house you had been renting together. It was bittersweet. The four of you had had so much fun through your mid twenties in that house, and waking up to share laughs and have coffee were the little moments you would miss so dearly.

"You're only moving six minutes down the road," Jessie reminded you, when the two of you cried together, complete with seemingly contradictory smiles.

"I know." You dried your eyes. "But.. I just.. I'm so happy but this is-"

"The end of Act One in your story and the beginning of Act Two." Jessie pulled you in for a long hug. "And this is where the friendships grow stronger, and the real depth comes in."

You sighed. Her words made you cry a little more before you finally got it together and bid a temporary farewell to your friend. The four of you already had a plan to go out the following Friday night and that was solace enough for the time being.

The very bright light at the end of the tunnel was Joel. Once you parted from Jessie, you sped over to Joel's street with your car full of all of your belongings. Your heart was letting you know how full it was from the constant thudding in your chest. It picked up the closer you got and felt like exploding when you pulled down the private driveway.

As promised, Joel sat on his front porch waiting for your arrival. One year later and he still made you swoon. The site of him still made butterflies flutter around in your midsection.

When you parked the car and popped open the driver's side door, you smiled wide as he approached with a key dangling between his fingers. You almost couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Welcome home." Joel smiled just as wide. The two of you couldn't take your eyes off one another and you pulled him in by the collar of his flannel shirt to leave a long, meaningful kiss on his lips.

"I love you," you breathed into his mouth.

"I love you, too." He brushed his nose against yours and you kissed again before accepting the key from him.

"I can't believe I live here now."

Joel kept you close. "Maybe one day I'll get you that cabin in the woods, but I thought this would do for now."

You shook your head and nodded toward the house behind him. "This is home."

He pecked your lips once more. "Come on." He pulled you by the hand and the two of you began to unload the car.

You were on cloud nine. Each box you brought inside made the move feel more permanent. When you unpacked the box that had your Bluetooth speaker in it, you plopped it on the little end table by one of the couches and put on one of your many playlists.

"Bob Dylan," Joel nodded in approval as the first song began to play. "Nice."

You smiled at him as he hauled another box in over shoulder. The two of you went through it together, finding a permanent home for your things. While you didn't want to impose on Joel's space, he was overly accommodating.

"It's our space now," Joel reminded you three or four times.

You stuck your toothbrush in the slot next to his. Joel cleared out more than half of the closet space for clothes. You laid out your boots, shoes and sandals.

When all of the bins and boxes were finally empty, you made your way back downstairs, welcomed by the infamous pipes of Sheryl Crow's Strong Enough, you finally reached for your car keys, and the single, gold key you had placed beside it; the one Joel had given to you.

As you picked it up between your fingers, Joel crept in behind you and kissed down your neck. You moaned lightly with a smile and closed your eyes.

"Mmm.." you let out a deep exhale through your nose. "So, this is my life now, huh?" You sunk back against him.

"As long as you want it to be," Joel whispered, as his hand snaked up the bottom of your shirt.

You turned around and Joel met you halfway in a smoldering kiss, one that you had been wanting to give him all afternoon. For the rest of the night you didn't take your hands off of him. Moving in together had turned you into a feral, needy woman.

When the two of you finally laid in bed, breathing heavy but otherwise quiet, you stated aloud. "I live here."

Joel began to chuckle, guiding you to lay partially on his chest. "You live here."

You sighed contently again, listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest with your arm slunk across his abdomen. "Imagine if I had never offered you that free coffee that night."

"What's meant to be will always be." Joel played with your hair. "But I'm glad you did." He added, "You're a brave woman. I owe you my life. You gave it back to me."

"All I want from you is to share it with me."

Joel kissed the top of your head and the two of you laid contently for a long while, talking about life, the future, and what was to come. You both intentionally left out the past. It was the easiest way to fall asleep peacefully.

When the next morning rolled around, you felt refreshed. It was like leaving a great dream only to awaken to a better one - one with Joel beside you. Permanently. Every day. For as long as you both could stand to be around one another. In your mind, that meant forever.

You smiled at him sleeping there and swung your legs off the edge of the bed before tiptoeing out of the room so you wouldn't wake him. As much as you wanted to lay there all morning with Joel, you also wanted to surprise him.

Despite it being your first formal night as a resident at the Miller house, you knew your way around the kitchen. And so you went about whipping up pancakes, setting the coffee pot and gathering the syrup, butter and chocolate chips you happened to find in one of the cabinets.

You hesitated before retrieving a long rectangular box wrapped in candy corn wrapping paper from your jacket pocket by the front door and left it by Joel's unmade plate.

Before you could go see if he was awake, your eyes lifted to meet his as he strolled into the kitchen. Joel pulled a long-sleeved tshirt down over boxers and you couldn't help but smile at his head of messy hair.

A smile crept on his face. "It smells amazing down here."

"Thought I'd surprise you on our first official morning living together." You smiled back and retrieved a glass dish filled with pancakes and placed them in the center of the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The two of you sat down at the table and Joel raised his coffee mug to you. "To many more cups of coffee together first thing in the morning."

You giggled and reached for your cup, tapping it gently against his. "To many, many, many more."

Joel took a sip, smacking his lips together with an appreciative sigh and then eyed the little box by his silverware. He smirked and reached for it. "What's this?"

You felt your stomach knot up and folded your hands on top of the table. "You'll uh.. you'll have to open it."

Joel's eyes squinted in playful suspicion but he still smirked as he tore open the corner of the tiny package. "I didn't even know they made candy corn wrapping paper," he commented, glancing up at you with a wider grin.

You flashed him a closed-mouth smile and waited as he removed the small, white box from the paper. His eyes met yours a final time before he opened the box and stared down at the contents inside.

A quiet exhale escaped your lips as you waited for Joel's reaction. Those next few seconds felt like hours.

"This is, um.. is this what I think it is?" He looked right at you now motioning down toward the box. A wide smile spread on his face, "I mean it's not a positive Covid test, right?"

You managed a light laugh but ultimately the gravity of the situation held you firmly in place. "No, it's not a Covid test."

Joel chuckled to himself and brought a hand across his mouth for a second, before running it across his beard. His eyebrows raised and he reached for the rectangular stick in the box.

"Tell me." He stared intensely across the table at you.

Your bottom lip dropped away from your top one and you hesitated. You weren't sure why but it was such a powerful, permanent set of words to string together. When Joel couldn't contain a smile, it gave you enough confidence to spit the words out with a little, timid shrug of your shoulders.

"I'm pregnant."

"Really?" He asked as if he didn't believe it, rising to his feet. Joel made his way toward you.

You nodded and rose to your feet, feeling completely content and at ease in his arms as he hugged you. The warmth that often radiated from him transferred into you and you closed your eyes as his hand moved up and down your back.

It felt as if Joel didn't want to let you go, and you didn't mind. You smiled to yourself when he kissed your forehead before edging his back an inch or two so you were face-to-face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded and smiled back at him. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, making you laugh and you shared a long, closed-mouth kiss. "I'm going to be a dad." The words came out almost like a question. You were sure the shock of the moment hadn't fully registered yet.

"You're going to be a great dad."

A lopsided smile still lingered on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and shook his head. When he couldn't find the words, you pulled him back in for a hug and he melted against you.

After a minute or so, Joel finally said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He picked you up off the ground and spun you in a circle, making you giggle again. When your feet were back on the ground, Joel put a hand on his head and you saw a dampness in his eyes.

"Don't," you said with a laugh, "I made it this long without crying."

"Sorry," he said with a laugh as a tear streaked his face. "Fuck. I'm the man, I shouldn't be crying."

"That's an outdated take," you told him with a laugh, as he dried his face with his hands.

"I know." He chuckled and then dropped down to his knees in front of you, lifting the shirt to expose your stomach. Despite there being no obvious indications of your pregnancy, Joel placed a hand over your abdomen and then left a single kiss just below your belly button.

You cradled his head against you as he placed the side of his face against the area and hugged around your waist.

"We're going to have our own little family," Joel acknowledged allowed.

"Yeah." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"What do you think, five kids?" He joked, making you laugh as he rose back to his feet.

"Maybe seven or eight," you teased back, accepting a series of kisses from him.

"I love you," Joel said again, tucking hair behind you ear. "Really. I loved you right away. Last year, a week into this, I knew this was something that comes once in a lifetime."

You had tears in your eyes now. "I knew it too. And now you finally get your happily ever after."

"So do you."

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee @shayna-d-clown @bbiophiliaa @theclassicvinyldragon @tiffanypooh @mandijo17 @poodlebae @purple-fig @vabeachazn

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

Note

Do you have any tips on getting attention when walking into a room

Confidence is KEY

Great posture (shoulders back, head held high, back straight, arms to your sides, chest expanded, deliberate & strong gait)

Greet people with a composed yet cheerful smile, a firm handshake, or signal a "hello" with a friendly wave across the room. Keep your body language open and inviting yet relaxed and confident.

Compliment others on their outfits or strike up a conversation on how great part of the event is (the venue, food, speaker, etc.).

Wear a well-fitting outfit paired with thoughtful accessories that coordinate well with your outfit. Ensure the pieces are tailored to fit your body, and line up proportionally (where the waistbands, hemlines, necklines, etc. hit on your body and meet each other)

Choose one statement clothing or accessory item (bags, bold jewelry, shoes, belt, broach, hair clip, etc.) as the focal point of your outfit. It's your "conversation-starting piece."

Apply an intoxicating signature scent that pairs well with your body chemistry. Be mindful of the scents you layer underneath (body wash, body lotion, etc., so they all work together and don't clash.

Ensure your hair is well-kept and styled in a sleek, shiny manner that flatters your face shape.

Apply makeup in a way that gives you natural glowy skin and slightly flushed cheeks, and choose either a smoky eye, eye-catching liner, or a bold lip as the focal point of your look.

Use shimmer self-tan lotion on your skin before the event for an extra glow.

Apply whitening toothpaste or whitening strips for an extra attention-grabbing smile.

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zero00kiryu00 · 1 year

Note

Hey bestie! Fic swap? 👀✨️ specifically a super soft x reader with kiri? - ur bestie ghost 👻🩷

Pairing: Pro-Hero! Kirishima X Quirkless! Fem! Reader Length: 4.5k words || ao3 link || Genre: Hurt & Comfort, Romance, Nsfw, Aged-Up Characters (Pro-Hero!Kirishima) Headliner created by me. Warning tags: Praise, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm "denial", breeding kink, some nipple play, oral (f receiving), creampie, cockwarming. Synopsis: Y/N has had an awful week. To top off losing her job, Y/N's feeling of inadequacy as a quirkless individual bubble up to the surface. Fuelled by jealousy over her boyfriend's quirk, Y/N vents her insecurity to Kirishima. Kirishima comforts her as best as he can, making sure she knows she is more than enough.

BY CLICKING "READ MORE", YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT, AS STATED IN THE WARNING. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

“In today’s news, we explore recent happenings within the City…”

The quiet voice of the newscaster from the television speakers held your attention. The drone of the air conditioning mimicked the quiet mean-spirited voice in the back of your mind, ever present, but not a focal point until you thought about it for too long. It had been a terrible week, and somehow an even more terrible day. You had lost your job at the start of the week and things just went downhill from there. So, in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you sat on the couch, cross-legged and clutching onto a pillow, a blanket draped over your shoulders, and a half-finished bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of you, hoping to cheer yourself up with a girl power movie. It hadn’t really worked so you were just flipping through channels mindlessly until the news popped up.

“Another villain was successfully captured this afternoon. Pro-Heros Red Riot and Dynamight apprehended the tornado villain…”

The newscaster’s voice died away, blending in with the sounds of the air conditioning in the background. A film clip from that afternoon started playing on screen, the camera panning from building destruction to two burly young men high-fiving. You recognized them immediately, not just because they were famous heroes, but because you knew them personally. The young man with the spiky red hair and toothy grin, Eijirou Kirishima, better known as Red Riot, was your boyfriend. You stared as the camera zoomed in on his face, a couple fresh scratches on his right cheek from the battle, grinning ear to ear. It made you happy to see him doing so well as a pro-hero; to see his success. And yet, you couldn’t help the familiar, growing pit of jealousy that sank in your stomach.

You didn’t want to resent him for his success. He was so kind and caring with you; really, he was the perfect boyfriend. It wasn’t him you hated. It was yourself.

You continued watching the clip that played on the television. One of the reporters on scene asked the heroes to show off their quirks. Kirishima did it so effortlessly, smashing his fists together to emphasize his hardening quirk. You clutched the pillow you were holding just a bit tighter when the crowd on tv started to cheer for him, chanting over and over Red Riot. Your jaw tightened, your teeth gnashing against each other out of frustration.

“Stupid quirks…,” you muttered to yourself. “I’d be way better than any of them if I had my own…”

You trailed off just as the latch of the front door clicked open. Instinctively, you turned off the TV and tossed the remote beside you, burrowing further into your blanket, pulling it over your head and leaning onto the pillow.

“I’m home!” Kirishima shouted as he entered the house you shared, sounding more cheerful than he ever had before, or so it seemed to you, anyway.

“Hey,” you mumbled just loudly enough for him to hear from the entryway. You heard him kick off his boots and shuffle quickly down the hallway. He slid into the room heroically, striking a pose with his hands on his hips and grinning down on you.

“Guess who saved the city again?” he proclaimed loudly, following up with a boisterous laugh. You just rolled your eyes and sunk further into the pillow, letting out a long sigh.

“You?” you guessed monotonically, just to amuse him. Kirishima’s smile started to disappear as he got a closer look at how you were sitting. He knew that hunched posture meant something had happened; usually it meant he had done something, but he couldn’t think of anything he had done wrong this time.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft and gentle as he scooted onto the couch beside you. He leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knees to peer into the blanket, clasping his hands together. You turned your gaze to meet his only briefly, darting it away after just a few seconds of contact. You couldn’t look at him for too long, didn’t dare stare into his comforting eyes for fear of breaking right there. Your insecurity wasn’t his fault.

“Nothing, you wouldn’t get it,” you denied, turning your head away from him and staring at the wall instead. Kirishima frowned, scooting over a little bit closer to you and wrapping his arm across your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. The warmth radiating off of his body onto yours was comforting, as always, but his proximity at that moment was not helping as much as you had wanted it to.

“Is this about losing your job on Monday?” he mused, noticing the way you tensed up under him as soon as he mentioned it. “I know that position meant a lot to you. Are you worried that you’re not contributing enough or something, angel?”

You just sighed and shook your head, refusing to acknowledge him any further than that for now. Kirishima continued to ask a couple questions, trying to pry the information he was looking for out of you. He knew how stubborn you could get, how you’d refuse to admit anything was wrong until it was too late and your emotions boiled over. He didn’t want you to get to that point again, he had been so worried for you the last time it had happened. He was trying to get better at noticing when you were struggling, but he had been away so much this week with missions and patrols that he couldn’t gauge how close you were to falling apart.

“I can take care of you, Y/N.”

Those were the words that made you snap. You gripped the pillow in your lap and shoved it into Kirishima’s stomach, throwing the blanket off of you when you stood up off of the couch, whipping around to face him.

“I’m not some stupid civilian that needs saving, Eijirou!” you shouted angrily at him. Kirishima simply held the pillow against himself, staring up at you in surprise while you paced in front of him. “I don’t want you to take care of me like I’m some helpless housewife, okay? I want to take care of myself. I want to be like you!”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be like me in this world? To be without a quirk? You don’t know the unrelenting bullying I dealt with in school. You have no idea how many jobs I dreamt about wanting that I can’t have cause I don’t meet the quirk requirement. You don’t understand how I felt, waiting, praying that my quirk was going to show up one day; that I was just a late bloomer and eventually I’d get to be the hero I had always wanted to be. You will never understand the humiliation and ridicule I face in my life every single day. I’m not enough; how I am, how I exist is not enough to live peacefully in this world.

“You’re praised to high heaven because of your quirk while I’m just- just,” you paused, searching for the words to express precisely how you felt. “I’m worthless.”

You huffed, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, finally having said everything you needed to in that moment. Before Kirishima could say anything, you turned quickly on your heel, rushing up the stairs and heading towards your shared bedroom. The slam of the door behind you made Kirishima jump a bit. He sat there in silence for a while, processing, ruminating, trying desperately to understand what had just happened. He had never seen you so angry, so... Hurt. He sighed, tilting his head back to rest on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He really didn’t understand how you felt. He tried to imagine how he would be without his quirk, how it would feel to be in your shoes, but it always came up blank. He couldn’t think of what he would do besides being a hero; it was just so natural for him. He had never wanted to be anything else. And maybe, he thought, that was the problem.

Kirishima sighed again, shaking his head and tossing the pillow to the side, pulling himself off the couch and shuffling around the living room. He mindlessly found himself at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze climbing to the top landing and staring at your bedroom door. Without second thought, he went upstairs. He waited a bit longer at the door, not entirely sure if it was right for him to knock and be with you right then. Did you need more space? Did you want space to begin with? He took a deep breath in and made a decision.

Kirishima knocked quietly on the bedroom door, his gaze focused on the silver door handle.

“Go away…,” you muttered, just wanting to be left alone. And yet, you craved his presence, his comfort. You wanted his arms wrapped around you, whispering that everything would be okay, that you were his everything, that you were perfect to him.

Kirishima sighed, ignoring your dismissal and turning the doorknob to let himself in. His heart sank when he saw you curled up on the bed, back turned away from him so you faced the wall in the soft light of the setting sun. He didn’t say anything, just shuffled over to the bed and crawled in beside you. He scooted in behind you, pulling you over from your side of the bed to meet him in the middle, wrapping his arm across your stomach to keep you from pulling away. You lay there together in silence for what felt like an eternity, with only the ticking alarm clock on Kirishima’s bedside stand filling the quiet air.

“I’m sorry for being so insensitive earlier,” Kirishima began to say, speaking softly against your ear. It sent a small shiver up your spine, feeling his breath against your neck as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to make things worse. I promise to try and be more understanding of your situation, angel. But I promise, promise, you are more than enough. You are so intelligent, and so patient and compassionate. You’ve got no clue how many people you make smile when you walk into a room. I could go on and on and on about how amazing you are, angel.”

He nuzzled his nose into your shoulder, taking in a deep breath, enjoying the sweet smell of vanilla on your skin. His grip tightened around you, his knees curling underneath yours in an attempt to get even closer to you than he had been before.

“You are enough,” he repeated, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Repeat it to me, angel.”

You could feel your face growing flush, nervous knots tying together in your stomach. You didn’t want to repeat the words back. You felt you didn’t deserve to repeat them. But you would, for him.

“I…,” you began, voice quivering with uncertainty. “I’m enough.”

“Again,” he asked of you gently, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I’m enough,” you repeated, this time with more determination in your voice. You could feel Kirishima smile against your skin.

“One more time. Third time’s the charm, y’know,” he joked with a slight chuckle. You couldn’t help but let a small smile slip across your lips.

“I’m enough,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, confirming to yourself the sincerity of your own words. Kirishima gave you a gentle squeeze. He shifted behind you, propping himself onto one arm and leaning around you to press a kiss to your cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a smile. Kirishima’s hand traced small, slow, comforting circles along your stomach with his fingers. You took in a deep breath, enjoying his proximity, his warmth, the feeling of his breathing against your back. You turned yourself back to face him, warmth gleaming in your eyes when you looked up at him. Kirishima met your gaze immediately, looking down at you with a proud smile. His hand trailed further over your hip, resting on your thigh. “Can I show you how much you mean to me?”

His hushed request made your cheeks burn and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You knew exactly what that question meant; and you were craving it. You were craving him. You didn’t say anything, just brought your hand up to pull him down into a sweet kiss. A quiet, satisfied hum left Kirishima’s lips while he kissed you. He never really was good with words; he found he somehow always messed something up when trying to say something sincere. He knew he’d be able to get his message across through his actions.

Kirishima pulled away from the kiss only briefly, giving himself enough time to shift backwards and roll you onto your back. He climbed overtop of you, his arms resting on either side of your head. He took a minute just to survey you, to watch your lips as they parted with a slight hush of air, to meet your eyes, still a bit irritated from the tears you shed. He smiled softly.

“You’re so perfect, angel,” he complimented you with a sweet whisper before leaning forward to resume kissing you. You leaned upwards into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, greedily drinking in his careful attention to you. It made you feel wanted, needed. Kirishima’s kisses were filled with warmth and comfort, speaking words to you he could never say out loud. His tongue trailed against your bottom lip, silently begging for permission to deepen his kiss.

You closed your eyes and allowed him the moment, leaning into him and pulling him closer. Your lips met in the most tender and passionate moment yet. Your hearts beat in sync, your breaths heavy with desire. He pulled you closer still, kissing deeply and softly, his tongue slowly exploring yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers curling into the red spikes, refusing to let him pull away as you basked in the moment, holding close to the person you loved most; to the person you felt safest with.

Kirishima hummed into the kiss, signalling to you to pull away for a minute. He didn’t waste any time when you eased your grip in his hair, leaning forward and leaving a trail of soft kissing along your neck. You could feel your face getting warmer with each kiss, starting at the underside of your jaw, crawling down your neck, flitting against your collarbone. Kirishima pulled aside a strap from the tank top you wore, continuing his mission, kissing along the curve of your breast until his lips captured your nipple. A soft moan escaped your lips as he tongued and toyed with you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, building in anticipation of what was to follow. Kirishima’s hand trailed down the side of your body, fingers following the curve of your waist, curling into the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them away, discarding them to the foot of the bed, leaving you partially exposed. He sat back a bit, mouth leaving your breast and his eyes met yours. He toyed with the edge of your tank top.

“Take this off for me, angel,” he commanded gently. “Let me see how beautiful you are under this shirt.”

You flushed bright red at his request, but obliged, sitting up slightly to pull your top off, discarding it to the floor. Kirishima hummed pleasantly, taking in every inch of you.

"My god..." Kirishima muttered, his eyes drinking you in. Your body was truly a work of art. His gaze trails up your frame, from your breasts to your shoulders and back down to your stomach. His hands swept against your sides, his whispering touch sending shivers down your spine. You leaned back to give him room to continue, your pussy dripping with anticipation at what was to come.

Kirishima wiggled back towards the edge of the bed, stationing himself between your legs. Gently, he pushed them apart, crouching forward and pressing kisses to your inner thigh, teeth catching skin with every other kiss. You squirm slightly, a soft groan encouraging Kirishima to continue. Instead of giving you what you so desperately craved, however, he moved to your other thigh, repeating the same ritual he began, kissing and nipping at your sensitive skin. You whined in protest.

“Eijirou, please,” you begged, making him chuckle. Finally, he relinquished your request, adjusting his position before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. You moaned when his tongue began to trace slow circles around it, heat pooling into your core and making you even wetter. Kirishima continued to tease, you running his tongue up your velvety slit, licking up any slick he could and relishing in the taste of you. You were perfect to him in every possible way. He leaned deeper into you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, running it along your walls, coaxing a louder moan from you, before turning his attention back to your swelling clit. Your hands gripped the sheets, toes curling as you got closer to your release. Your back arched, alerting Kirishima to the proximity of your orgasm, and he immediately pulled away. You groaned, whining and squirming with want, annoyed at him for denying you when you were so close.

“I want to get you built up a bit more, angel,” Kirishima began, hands trailing up your legs. “You just look so gorgeous when you cum for me. I want to make sure I can see it. I want to see you writhing for me, begging for me. I need to see you enjoying my touch.”

Kirishima leaned forward, his right hand moving back down towards your leaking pussy, coating his fingers in your slick. He slowly ran it up and down your slit, briefly rubbing circles along your clit.

“Look at me,” he whispered, watching to catch your gaze. As soon as your eyes met, Kirishima slowly pushed two fingers into your pussy. He watched as your lips parted, watched as your chest heaved with sweet gasp, and enjoyed the satisfied moan that followed. He gave you a minute to adjust to him before moving his fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right way so that they hit your g-spot with every stroke.

“Eijirou,” you whimpered. Kirishima leaned forward, pressing kisses against your neck as he continued to fingerfuck you, increasing his pace.

“I make you feel good, don’t I, angel?” he mused, trailing kisses along the column of your neck until he got to your ear. He nibbled gently at the lobe. “It feels good when I fuck you like this doesn’t it?”

You nodded your head, agreeing wholeheartedly. It felt good, so good. You wished it would never stop. You wished to feel the heat of his touch, to feel the whisper of his breath as he spoke in your ear, to feel his comfort, for as long as you possibly could.

“My pretty girl…” Kirishima continued, his thumb finding its way to your clit while his fingers continued to pump inside of you. He could feel you getting closer; he could feel how you tightened against his fingers, enjoyed the sounds of your breathing getting heavier, your moans getting louder. He leaned up, watching your brows furrow in pleasure. “Is my pretty girl ready to cum for me?”

You huffed, an amused chuckle leaving your lips as you turned your gaze to meet his.

“I’ve been ready,” you whined through a moan. “Please, please can I cum? Please, I want to cum for you, Eijirou.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, signalling his permission. In a matter of seconds, you were cumming against his fingers, legs shaking, tears pricking in your eyes with the intensity of the pleasure you felt. He slowed the pace of his fingers, letting you enjoy the feeling of him for just a while longer as you finished your release.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, kissing your temple as you rode out your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt, making you whine. You missed him already. “Don’t worry, angel, I’m not going far.”

Kirishima lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a smirk as he pushed himself off the bed. He quickly discarded his shirt, pants following suit. You watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off of his hips. You followed his fingers, watching as his cock sprang free from its containment, precum already dripping from the tip. A dark stain flushed your cheeks bright red. Kirishima went to rummage for a condom in his bedside drawer, but you rolled over to take his hand, stopping him. He looked over at you, a bit surprised.

“You don’t want one?” he asked, making sure. You shook your head.

“I need all of you, Eijirou, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got your hint. Kirishima’s gaze hazed over with lust. He slammed the drawer back shut and shooed you back further on the bed to give him some more space.

“Lay back, angel,” he directed you and you obliged, resting your head on the pillows in the middle of the bed and spreading your legs for Kirishima. He took in a deep shaky breath, practically vibrating in anticipation. He had been waiting for this all week; in between your job loss and his job demands, there hadn’t been time to properly connect. He couldn't wait to ravish you.

Kirishima ran his cock up and down your slit, lubricating it with your slick before he maneuvered your legs over onto his shoulders, crossing your ankles around his neck. He lined himself up at your entrance, holding your legs steady with his other hand. He looked down at you, pausing just briefly to meet your gaze. Finally, he slid his cock into your entrance, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he pushed deeper inside of you. The warmth of your pussy alone was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he greedily wanted to make you cum for him again. He could hold on, but he needed to make it so you couldn’t anymore.

Kirishima began rocking his hips, keeping a slower pace, moaning at how tight your wet cunt was. You moaned along with him, eyes rolling back at the pleasant stretch of his thick cock in your pussy. He fit so perfectly inside you, fucked you so wonderfully. He kept an even pace, fucking into you so deeply the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every other thrust, making you wraith beneath him and edge closer to release with every movement. His pace quickened, making you moan louder.

“Come on, angel, I know you want to cum,” he teased you, giving your ass a quick slap. “I know how good I make you feel. I know how much you want me to cum inside your cute little pussy. You want that, don’t you?”

You whined at that, nodding your head feverishly, getting closer and closer to release with each and every one of his words. You gazed up at him, watching as his lips curled into a pleased smirk.

“Good girls cum, don’t they?” he continued to muse. “You're gonna be a good girl for me, right, angel? You’re gonna cum all over my cock? Go ahead, sweetheart, cum for me.”

With those words, you found your release, gripping at the sheets, legs tightening around Kirishima’s neck, the walls of your cunt clenching on his cock. Kirishima groaned, enjoying the intense rush he felt while you milked his cock. He listened to your continued moans, thrusting faster, until finally he reached his own release. He thrust into you twice more, punctuating each twitch of his cock as he came inside of you. Finally, he stilled, matching your laboured breathing as he brought himself out of the adrenaline high. He chuckled breathlessly, his hand gently tapping your leg, wordlessly asking for you to loosen your grip around his neck. You obliged, removing your legs from his shoulders and resting them back onto the bed. Kirishima leaned forward, crawling on top of you for a passionate kiss. You reached up as he pulled back, wrapping your arms across his neck and your legs around his hips to hold him close. You didn’t want to let him go just yet. Kirishima took the hint and snaked his arm around your back, holding you close while he turned the pair of you over so he could lay down for a minute and catch his breath.

With you on top, and his cock still deep inside of you, Kirishima took in a deep breath, exhaling heavily as he got used to the new position. You squirmed around a bit in an attempt to get more comfortable, which only caused the both of you to shudder from the sensitivity the movement caused. You giggled a bit, finally settling down and resting your head on his shoulder, burying your nose into his neck and taking in a deep breath. You loved the way he smelled after sex, a sharp musk mixing together with his sweat. Kirishima’s hand trailed slow circles on your back, just enjoying your proximity as you both recovered.

“Are you feeling a little bit better?” he asked. You hummed pleasantly. You did, in fact, feel a little bit better. Still not completely healed from the events of the week, but better than you had been.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you earlier…” you mumbled into his neck, wanting to say more, but Kirishima just gently shushed you.

“It’s okay, angel. I know I won’t ever totally understand your experience, but please be open with me about it when you’re struggling, okay?” he replied. You nodded a bit, feeling a bit ashamed at your reaction. The pair of you lay there in silence for a bit longer, just enjoying each other’s company. The sound of Kirishima’s heartbeat was incredibly comforting to you. Kirishima was the one to finally break the silence.

“How about a movie and some takeout? You can choose what we watch,” he suggested, combing his fingers through your hair. You smiled.

“I’d like that,” you agreed. Kirishima grinned and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sounded more relaxed now, and happier too. He knew there would be times where your insecurity got the best of you in the future, too, but that was a bridge the two of you could cross when it arrived; hopefully, with more understanding the next time it happened.

“Good. And what did we learn today?” he asked, gazing down at you. You giggled a bit, feeling more sure about what you were about to say than you ever had before.

“I am enough.”

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