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minhosimthings · 1 year ago

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Hold me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 5: Marigold and Maladies

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story., Reader kinda has a breakdown in this cause she has a fear of thunderstorms

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Anemoia is a word which means to have nostalgia for a home. And that's how you felt right now, going through the streets of Washington DC. You never realised how beautiful Seattle actually was, before now. How could you though? Having spent all of your time in America stuck in your hotel room, not having a chance to escape, thanks to your workaholic mind. But as you looked out the window of the car you were riding in, you realised how serene it felt. You had read earlier from a Wikipedia page, that Seattle had been one of the fastest growing cities in all of America and you had expected it to be the normal grey city, filled with sweaty office workers will dull faces, and the usual cranky old people moving here and there. What you didn't expect to see however, were bright New York-esque signs, kids and adults skateboarding all over the streets, laughing as they tripped and fell down, bright farmer's markets, sports centres, from where you could hear the noises of balls bouncing, and most importantly, the numerous flower shops littering the streets, making them light up like the stars light up the night sky, with aster and marigold in every single corner.

"Admiring the view, my yarrow?" Jay spoke up, not looking up from the magazine he was reading, sitting next to you in the car. You frowned at him and didn't say anything, not wanting to cause a fight, which you knew you would lose. "Are you not talking to me now, babe?" Jay looked up at you and inched closer. "We're supposed to be a couple, Y/N. Act like it." He whispered into your ear, making sure the driver of the limo didn't hear anything. You froze up on your seat, feeling his husky voice near your ear, and his hot breath hit your skin like an avalanche. "I'm sorry babe." You immediately got into character, "Where are we going by the way?" Jay smiled at your question. "You'll see." He winked at you, making you internally gag. He had forced you to come out with him on a 'date', so as to make your relationship more believable, the reason being to tempt the paps. You figured that out from the very vague answer he gave which consisted of the words, 'news', 'paps' and 'lawyer'.

"Jay just tell me where we're going you know I'm impatient." You whined, crossing your arms, "I swear to God if you're taking me to an opera house-" "We're not going to an opera house." Jay stated, looking out the window. You took a second to admire his sharp jawline, as he raised his chin. "We're going to a museum. And before you interrupt-" he turned his head back to your opening mouth, "-yes we're going to The Seattle Art Museum." Your mouth dropped at his words. Going to an art museum in America was one of the major things on your bucket list. And going to The Seattle Art Museum, which consisted of some of the greatest American works of art?

"Oh wow." You said, yawning, "great place for a date Jay, very romantic." You tempted him, making your tone sarcastic. In reality you were over the moon to go to the museum, but you wanted to see whether Jay actually remembered anything from your teenage years. "Oh shut up." Jay said, checking his watch, "We all know you're obsessed with art history. You wouldn't stop talking about it when we were kids remember? The meaning of The Girl With The Pearl Earring is still etched in my brain Y/N." Your heart slightly jumped a bit at his sentence but you barely had time to say anything in return, as the car had stopped in front of a magnificent building, with a painting of a man in black on it.

Your car door opened, and you stepped out, still staring open mouthed at the building. Jay looked at you from behind, taking note of the fact that you didn't notice him opening the car door for you. "My lady." He extended his arm to you, which you took, while internally cringing. "Jay can we stick to one nickname please?" You asked, entering the gate of the museum and immediately being hit with the smell of perfume. "Why should I?" Jay laughed, "Cause your single ass can't handle all the love?" You rolled your eyes and went to the front counter, to pay for the tickets. "Two tickets please." You said to the smiling lady, clad in uniform, "And put it on this card." "Baby I'll pay this time." Jay slapped away your hand which was extending your credit card. The lady at the counter looked at your with curious eyes, as she slowly took Jay's black card, inserting it into card machine and handing you two blue coloured tickets with a robotised, 'enjoy your visit'.

"Jay I could have paid you know? I'm rich too." You scoffed as you entered the main hall. Jay didn't say anything instead choosing to stare at the map of the building which he had gotten at the front desk. "Should we head to the libraries first?" He squinted at the map. Struggling to keep your laughter in, you reached into your bag and pulled out something, giving it to Jay. "Here dumbass." You gave him the glasses, "Still haven't left the habit of leaving your glasses at home, Mr Four Eyes?" Jay blinked at you slowly and took the glasses, swiftly putting them on. "How the fuck did you get my glasses?" He quizzed you, once he out the map back into his pocket and climbed up the escalator. "Your assistant gave them to me, right before we left." You stated simply to which Jay replied with a simple 'Ah'.

"Woah Jay look!" You excitedly pointed towards a painting, and rushed towards it. The museum was fairly empty today, so no one saw you rushing up to a painting like a child going up to his mother. "Jay oh my god is this an original?" You read the marking below the painting, which read, 'Judgement of Paris'.

You stared up at the magnificent painting. Three naked people along with a knight and his squire stood in a gloomy scene, with a tiny cupid peaking in from the far left of the scene. Quite a chaotic painting, you thought, even though you had analysed this painting atleast more than a thousand times. "Isn't that by that man- what's his name." Jay came up to you, also looking at the painting. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Lucas Chranach The Elder? That's his painting." You looked at him with widened eyes. "Since when do you know so much about paintings?" Jay shrugged his shoulders and instead moved on to the next painting, with you following behind, still looking intently at The Judgement Of Paris.

"Ma'am please save me this girl is so pretty what do I say." You were sitting on the rooftop of the museum, sipping some cool wine and enjoying the flowing breeze as Jay sat in front of you, immersed in a pamphlet of the museum. You tried not to stare at his adorable face, the way he scrunched his face up and read the information written on the green piece of paper. As if to provide a miracle, Jungwon had called you, panicking about talking to Jay's apparently amazing secretary, who he was currently eating ice cream with. "Jungwon calm down." You tried hard not to giggle, "Hand the phone to Jay's secretary once." Jay looked up at the sound of his name. "Hey Kayla, it's Kayla right?" You spoke into the phone with a smile on your face, which Jay couldn't help but adore (although he tried very hard). The way your eyes lit up at every word you said to Kayla, the way you mischievously giggled when you told her what Jungwon was allergic to, the way you absent-mindedly brushed your hair behind your ears, it was like April coming early.

"Expect your secretary to be absent for a few days Jay." You put the phone down and put on a proud face. "Is she going to date your secretary?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You shrugged your shoulders, with a little "Maybe!" "Good." Jay stated, looking at the skyline, "I've been telling her to take a break. She works too hard."

"Oh shit." You gasped out. The sky had been cloudy all day, but you never expected it to burst out this suddenly. "Come on." Jay got up from his seat, "let's get inside." The rain started pouring faster and harder as you rushed to the metal door, and tried to open it. "Fuck." You cursed under your breath, "Fuck Jay it's stuck." Jay bumped you aside gently and tried to open it, but his efforts went to vain. "Did-" he looked at you, "Did they lock it?" You glanced at the stuck doorknob. There had been no one on the rooftop except for you two, so it was a very plausible explanation for them to have locked it. "Maybe they-" "Mr Park! Miss Yang!" You heard a voice call out from the other side of the door. "Yes we're here!" Jay shouted back, putting his hand on the door. "Sir, Ma'am please hold on! The doorknob is stuck! We'll get you out in no time!"

"Great!" You threw your hand up, shouting your words so as to be heard under the pitter patterof the rain. "Now what do we- AH!" Thunder had just erupted across the atmosphere bringing with it, lightning which painted the sky with dandelions. "Oh shit." You mumbled under your breath, covering up your ears tightly, keeping the tears in your eyes. "Oh no no no this can't be happening." Heavy breaths started to engulf you, and you felt suffocated as your vision starting to blur. "Y/N?" Jay said, uneasily, "Y/N hey hey hey look at me. It's just thunder." He rubbed circled onto your back and whispered calming words into your ear as you tried hard to ignore the booming sound of the earth. "Jay-" "Yeah I'm here I'm here calm down shh."

Thankfully, before you could collapse onto the ground and melt into a puddle, you heard a clicking sound. The door had opened up to reveal two workers of the museum clad in black suits, quickly ushering you and Jay in, and handing you both towels. "Thank you." Jah thanked them absent-mindedly, his attention still on your shivering body. "Sir we apologise deeply for this." One of the workers bowed deeply. Jay brushed the apology aside however. "Forget about that. Where can we sit her down please?" He supported you onto him, and you accepted the favour, putting your weight onto his. "This way Sir."

"That was the worst thing I've done in my entire life." You sighed out, with Jay's jacket tightly wrapped around you. The rain was still pouring hard, and as you were halfway to your hotel, you noticed that all the flower shops were still open, the owners getting drenched in the rain, with tarpaulin covering their flowers. "Worse than breaking up with Ricky on graduation day?" Jay chuckled. You slapped his arm tightly and scoffed. "His ass couldn't handle this beautiful body." "So you did fuck him! Bitch, you told me you were a virgin!" Jay pointed a finger at you accusingly. "You actually believed that? Damn you're gullible." You snorted. "Oh we're here." Jay panted through a fit of laughter as you arrived at the hotel, to find Jungwon and Kayla waiting and looking very worried, and fiddling with their fingers.

"Miss Yang!" "Mr Park!" Both of them called out at the same time, running up to you and Jay, as you got out of the car and swiftly moved into the hotel, not wanting to get more wet. "Ma'am do you want to head up to your room or do you have any more discussions with Mr Park?" Jungwon meekly asked, trotting behind you. "Jay, darling, do you have anything else to say?" You asked Jay, throwing him off guard. He stared at you with a puzzling look, before quickly realising why, as he looked over your right shoulder. Camera men. News reporters. Hell even anchors were there. "No baby." He quickly came up to you, and wrapped his hand around your waist, "You should go up and rest babe, you're gonna catch a cold." You simply hummed and smiled and were about to go when- "Y/N kiss me." Jay whispered into your ear, making you freeze. Of course you wanted to sell the notion that you were actually dating Jay and this wasn't just some deal, but you didn't think that Jay would take it to the level of kissing each other in public.

Hesitant, you came forward and quickly pecked him on his lips, feeling the soft touch of them, which was rightly shown by the pinkness. You swore you could taste your own lipbalm. "See you tomorrow babe!" You shouted loudly as you went into the elevator, with a very confused Jungwon following you.

"Ma'am so you're dating Mr Park now." Jungwon asked shyly as you stepped out the bathroom in your robe. You sighed heavily and reached forward for your glass of wine. "Yep." You swirled the blood red contents in the glass around. "Unfortunately for me I am and this stupid first date just had to go wrong didn't it?" You leaned back on the sofa, "Jungwon I have the worst luck in the world." To your surprise Jungwon chuckled and leant back too. "Kayla told me she likes cat today. And I am literally allergic to cats. I don't think this entire dating thing is for me, Ma'am. And quite frankly I don't think it's for you either." You smiled widely and laughed out loud with Jungwon, both of you basking in the glory of non existent love lives, wondering only what Cupid would bring next.

#jay #enha jay #Enhypen jay #enha jay fic #enhypen jay fic #enha #Enhypen #jay fluff #jay angst #jay hirt comfort #park jay #enhypen park jongsoeng #enha fic #jay fic #park jay fic #jay fics #jay series #enhypen series #bye bye now

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everydayhybridity · 9 months ago

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Article from The Conversation on our Chicano Park research.

Urban wellbeing is increasingly tied to what urban planners term “green” and “blue” spaces: the parks and waterfronts that our towns and cities may include. Residents are also encouraged to leave the city altogether, to seek out the healthy calm of forest bathing, fell running or cold water swimming.

The potential of play within the urban environment, however, is often overlooked.

Skateboarders have long been invested in what I call “grey” space: the overlooked corners, edges and surfaces of the built environment. Skateboard magazines and videos routinely explore the social and architectural histories of sets of stairs and stone benches.

These spots, largely invisible to the general public, are richly symbolic. In seeing them as ramps and launchpads, skaters transform unremarkable bits of the city into ritual places of magic and wonder.

Recent research conducted with my colleague, Andrea Buchetti, shows that skateparks are sites of unstructured play and community, as well as remembrance and ritual. Otherwise banal and polluted locations are afforded layers of meaning and depth.

Skatepark memorialisation

The Chicano Park skatepark in San Diego is nestled below the imposing, blocky concrete columns of the on-ramps for the city’s Coronado bridge.

Built in 2015, the skatepark features four vibrant murals (by artists including Ricardo Islas) that draw on both the indigenous heritage of this ancient northern Mexican region and skateboard iconography. In memory of lost friends, local skateboarders build shrines at the foot of the paintings using broken skateboards, rocks, cacti and cut flowers.

The five-lane highway bridge above it stands 61 metres tall, allowing safe passage for ships bound to the nearby naval base. Completed in 1969, it links downtown San Diego with the smaller city of Coronado across San Diego Bay.

The space beneath the bridge has long been contested. When built, its route divided a longstanding Mexican American neighbourhood, Barrio Logan, that had already been disrupted by the construction of the Interstate 5 in 1963. Over 5,000 homes and businesses were destroyed in the process.

The state had promised the community a park by way of compensation. But on April 22 1970, Mario Solis, a local student, noticed bulldozers where the park should be, and found out the city was, in fact, constructing a highway patrol base there.

At Solis’s urging, more than 250 residents gathered with shovels and pickaxes to reclaim the land. They planted cacti and trees to create a communal park. After three months of protest, the city conceded to work with the community, and Chicano Park was officially established.

Local artist Salvador Torres was one of the people who lost their homes. In 1973, he galvanised the community into painting murals on the imposing chunks of concrete built in their stead. It was a form of creative resistance. The motifs referenced the cultural heritage of this ancient northern Mexican region, from Aztec symbolism to indigenous plants and beasts, and also Mexico’s colonial experience and revolutionary struggles.

The park is now a protected historic space and landmark. People gather there for annual celebrations on April 22.

Skateboarding as culture and community

Research has long shown the connection between sport and religion. Fans make pilgrimages to stadiums and worship athletes like gods.

Just as a football fan might worship at Wembley stadium in London, a specific neighbourhood curb might hold great significance because of a connection to a famous skater or a historic event. I have shown how skateboarding functions as a lifestyle religion. In the way they observe, perform and organise their communal activity, skateboarders derive spiritual expression and identity from both the physical act of skateboarding and the places in which it is conducted.

Some skateparks have dedicated plaques and permanent memorials designed into skateable features. When legendary San Francisco skateboarder and chief-editor of Thrasher magazine, Jake Phelps, died in 2019, a sculptor in Los Angeles made a concrete tombstone feature to install in the Lower Bob’s DIY skatepark in Oakland. He mixed some used dental floss Phelps had left behind into the concrete. “We don’t got his cremated body,” the artist told Thrasher, “but we got pretty much all the DNA we’re gonna need.”

London’s Skateboard Graveyard on one of the supports of Hungerford Bridge, on the South Bank, is another salient example. For years now, old boards have been thrown down from the Golden Jubilee footbridge in memory of Timothy Baxter, one of two skaters who were attacked and thrown into the river Thames in 1999.

Baxter died as a result and the juvenile attackers were convicted of manslaughter. Many of the skateboarders who take part in the ritual might not know that this is how it began, yet they persist in offering their broken boards to the site.

RIP epitaphs

In 2023, the skatepark in Sacramento’s Regency Park was renamed in honour of Tyre Nichols, a skateboarder who was beaten to death by police officers in Memphis, Tennessee.

Australian graphic design expert Dan Johnston has identified RIP epitaphs as one of the most common types of skateboarding-related graffiti. He cites messages he has noted on the steel ramps and concrete bumps of skater desinations in Singapore, Paris and south Australia – RIPs and Miss Us scrawled in white correction fluid, marker pen or spray paint.

Despite skateboarding’s recent ascent to Olympic status, for many skateboarders it is more a culture – or even a cult – than a sport. It brings diverse people together for unsanctioned play, recasting obstacles – an impassable buckled road in Wiltshire, say – as toys and tools.

In their provocative curves and surfaces, skateparks embody this creativity. They mimic the city beyond, showing how the built environment cannot just be conceived of as a framework for economic activity. Grey space – and grey times – can be transformed if communities, and the DIY cultures they give birth to, are allowed to flourish in the city.

#skateboarding #anthropology #sociology #chicano park #sacred space #sacred places

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elyahnabgrad604 · 1 year ago

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Creatives from NZ

Founder + creative director of DDMMYY

Has won 40 + creative industry awards

Based in Ponsonby

Has worked with some of NZs most memorial brands: Boring milk, 42below, serious popcorn, stolen rum ect.

Art director for metro magazine

Formed McCarthy in 2008

Was on the board of the designers institute of New Zealand

2021 got a visual communication degree at Ara

2023 left McCarthy studio in the hands of Mattew Kitto

PDINZ member

Editorial director for island magazine

Chief of New magazine

Founded art dept in 2021

Founded slamxhype in 2003

has worked in Auckland, Sydney, London and New York

Is based in Auckland, New Zealand

uses print and digital platforms

Founder + creative partner of sea change

Has been on the judging panel for NZ Best design awards, D&AD, New York Young Guns.

From Auckland, New Zealand

Sea Change has won over 50 design awards

Worked in London before founding Seachange

Graphic designer/ videographer/ photographer

From Tauranga

Founder of Champagne Sorbet

Founder of Launch day studio

New Zealand surfer

Studied design in Dunedin

22 years old

Born in Auckland, NZ

Studied at AUT (2010-2012)

Graphic designer for The Spinoff

junior/ young graphic designer

from Auckland, NZ

Studied bachelor of design at AUT

Intern at strategy design + advertising 2015

Is a currently a graphic designer at In-house studio

Has won best awards for student and academic graphics

Photographer

fashion photographer

has photos featured on manual magazine + the skateboarders journal cover

is self-emplyed

has shot Road By Karangahape, stolen girlfriends club, dress rentals ect.

is based in long bay, Auckland NZ

had a pervious job as a marketing manager

Founder of beach brains

surf inspired street wear label

love for photography

Based in grey lynn, Auckland

uses scanners, studio set-ups and point-and-shoots

works along side with sub-genre studio

is a surfer

A CREATIVE STUDIO STRENGTHENING BRANDS THROUGH CUSTOM AND UNIQUE CAMPAIGNS, CREATIVE ASSETS AND STRATEGIES.

BESPOKE CONTENT: DOCUMENTARY, ORIGINAL SERIES, SHORT FILMS, GRAPHIC DESIGN, ANIMATION

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kicksaddictny · 2 years ago

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Reebok x Sneeze Club C Grounds Collection

Reebok and SNEEZE officially announce the Reebok x SNEEZE Club C Grounds capsule collection.

The Reebok x SNEEZE Club C Grounds is a continuation of the partnership between Reebok and SNEEZE. Following the Club C 85 and LT Court that were released between the iconic sportswear brand and magazine previously, the Club C Grounds takes design cues from 90s skateboarding.

This latest capsule is available in two colorways: Grey/White (HP6470) and Brown/Stucco (HP6471). Both colorways are executed in soft suede and feature the SNEEZE “S” logo embroidered on the tongue. Each shoe comes with both wide and thin laces.

The Reebok x SNEEZE Club C Grounds capsule collection will be available in unisex sizing for $120 at SNEEZEMag.com beginning March 31st followed by a global release on Reebok.com on April 7th.

#reebok #kicksaddict #ClubC #sneeze

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tyleratd · 3 years ago

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Face plant! Skateboarder faceplant micro realistic forearm tattoo. By Tyler ATD, Whistler, Canada.

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sleepyailurophile · 5 years ago

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.⛪️🍣🌩

#graphic #moodboard #aesthetic #manga #sushi #city #nails #style #black and white #grey #magazine #skateboard #skater #cartoon #comic #shoes

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randomplacessamefeelings · 7 years ago

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Mike Arnold, hippie jump 180.

Photo by Rich West

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hellisoursalvation · 3 years ago

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Things that Levy, Lisanna and Cana did as kids: headcanons:

Once set a trash can on fire while trying to smoke for the first time. It was Cana’s idea

Found Gramps adult magazines and accidentally left them out. Natsu and Grey were given the “Talk” that day

Levy got used to smacking Jet and Droy upside the head as a kid that when they got taller, she just started smacking them in the stomach

Cana taught Lisanna and Levy how to ice skate after Grey taught her

Lisanna had a party phase at 15 and used to stay out late with Cana, so she’d tell her siblings she was staying at Natsu’s

The first time Levy got drunk, she threw up in Grey’s lap

Before Lisanna’s “death”, Cana pulled the “death” card and she just assumed she’d finally get over Natsu

Levy once bit Natsu. No idea why. They were both confused

Grey and Cana have choreographed skating routines incase they ever need a side job

Lisanna learned to skateboard at 12

Levy broke her wrist after falling out of a tree and onto Natsu. He felt so bad that he wouldn’t stop apologizing until it healed

Cana, Levy and Lisanna were called “FairyTail’s Angels” once in Sorcerer Weekly. Gramps had them pull the article cause after it came out, he found them building smoke bombs

Levy is the ultimate prankster

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #ft levy #ft cana #lisanna strauss #cana alberona #levy mcgarden #fairy tail lisanna

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peddling-rp-memes · 2 years ago

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Repost, don't reblog. I didn't make this meme, but can't find the op. Please tag them if you know who they are.

Bold all that apply to your muse as a child. (In modern verse if you write a historical or fantasy character.)

FUTURE JOB - ninja, pirate, vet, actor, astronaut, cooker, builder, knight, indiana jones, wizard, a parent, barbie, action man, writer, prince or princess, hero, villain, teacher, doctor, nurse, army man, rapper, singer, dancer, youtuber, twitch streamer, zookeeper, gardener, sailor, fisherman, carpenter, monarch, pilot.

FEARS - thunderstorms, strangers, space, abandonment, the dark, clowns, loud noises, dogs, spiders, masks, puppets, boys, girls, cooties, bugs, big objects, water, hell, being told off, police, new places, bullies, being wrong, ghosts.

PAINT YOUR BEDROOM - pink, blue, green, brown, yellow, orange, purple, neons, pastels, beige, mismatched multicolour, dark blue, wall mural, black, grey, white.

DECORATE YOUR BEDROOM - posters torn carefully cut from magazines, maps of fictional lands, books, cassettes or cds, lavalamp, minifridge, your very own tv, games console, teddies, pirate ship, floor length mirror, fairylights, funko dolls, vhs or dvds, dinosaurs, beanbags, animals, framed posters, stickers, pokemon, princesses, glow in the dark stars, corkboard full of photos, awards, your own art, disney princesses, marvel heroes, ben 10 theme, cartoon network show theme, animes, space theme, fantasy theme.

TOYBOX - barbie, ken, action man, my first science kit, csi lab kit, tamagotchi, cuddly teddy, pirate ship, horse, lego, furby, easybake oven, archeology kit, pokemon cards, beyblades, disney princesses, baby doll, sword, gun, crown, recorder, spy gear, slinky, beanie babies, colouring set, paints, play doh, simpsons, disney princess dolls, marvel action figures, books, puzzle books, wizard broom, robes, dollhouse, space ship, ray guns, walkie talkies, craft kits, slime, fidget spinners, fake tattoos, football, basketball, skateboard, swings, mini ant farm, seamonkies, rock em sock em robots, stretch armstrong, he man, my little pony, care bears, girls world styling head, mostly broken, sticky, pristine, no batteries, perfect working order, crayons, sunbleached, well loved.

BOOKBAG - harry potter, bfg, the hunger games, wheres wally, winnie the pooh, the very hungry caterpillar, matilda, the cat in the hat, the lord of the rings, charlottes web, northern lights, lion witch and the wardrobe, goodnight moon, where the wild things are, the tale of peter rabbit, charlie and the chocolate factory, stuart little, alices adventures in wonderland, a series of unfortunate events, bridge to terabithia, diary of a wimpy kid, anne frank diary of a young girl, the outsiders, the jungle book, the wonderful wizard of oz, peter pan, the secret garden, the wind in the willows, how to draw.

WARDROBE - tshirts with your fave cartoon characters, youtuber merch, scuffed jeans, plasticy fancy dress costumes, pretty dresses, button down shirts, woolen sweaters, floral skirts jean shorts, cargo pants, handmedowns, brand new, grass stains, mud stains, three days worn, clean on, all one colour, too many different colours, plain tshirts, hoody, custom printed novelty tops, bows, animal onesies, pufferjackets, bodywarmer, mittens, bobblehats, hats with ears, sunglasses, earmuffs, pastels, oversaturated dark colours, crinkled, ironed, smells floral, smells musky, animal print, sparkles, double denim, too big, too small, just right, karate uniform, scouts uniform, school uniform.

#rb #checklist meme #queued from beyond

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earthstellar · 4 years ago

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My TFP Humanformers Headcanons: With Pictures This Time

Originally posted here, but that’s all text only.

In my defence, I studied fashion at university level for two years, so this post was inevitable.

Optimus Prime - James Dean Style, aka “Hot Dad”

Optimus would probably love doing the research to determine human styles and what he likes best.

I can picture him doing a 1950s inspired look, more Greaser than stuffy suits, but in a more James Dean way and not John Travolta in Grease kind of way if he needed to go undercover as Jack’s dad or something.

He’d be a bit older than James Dean was in the above photo, definitely in his 30s at the youngest. Would still have silver mixed in with his black hair, to replicate the silver details on his helm. He doesn’t smoke, but might chew on a pen cap every now and then without thinking about it.

Ultra Magnus - Vittorio de Sica - Classic Italian Suit Chic

When doing research into human styles, Optimus showed him a Hermes magazine and some European business style guides from GQ and decided he liked the formal suit look. I imagine he’d have a very Italian look to him, as he might be wearing an Italian or Continental style suit.

For some reason, Magnus as a 40 or 50 year old stern and stylish Italian guy just works really well. He’d be extremely well dressed, well groomed, would still demand authority, and I imagine him looking like Vittorio de Sica, pictured above.

He would perhaps use his holoform to accompany Fowler in discussions with some military superiors.

Initially, he wanted to pick a military style uniform for his holoform, and Fowler had to explain to him in detail why that wasn’t an acceptable thing to do. So he went for chic lawyer instead.

Ratchet - Old War Vet + What He Thinks is Nevada Style: George Gabby Hayes

Ratchet would literally just be my dad or any of his old war buddies, possibly with a mobility aid like a cane or walking stick because that seems to be very popular amongst my dad and his friends. (To quote my father: “I can walk with it and I can beat people with it, so it works fine for me, don’t touch me dammit I can get up by myself.”)

I get the feeling he’d approach designing his holoform from a logical angle, wanting to fit in with the locals to avoid detection. Unfortunately, this meant he found a bunch of old Western movies online when looking up style inspiration, and decided that this was probably the best look to go for since all these movies were filmed in Nevada, so surely this would be familiar to people, right? (Wrong.)

He’d be tough and wrinkly, but give those precious old man smiles with big twinkling eyes that shine so brightly against his old weathered skin, and that alone would get him get out of trouble with the authorities-- Or helps him get the others out of trouble. He would play the “I’m just an old person, what do you want from me” card and he would succeed. Then he’d turn around and get mad that everyone treats him like he’s old, lmao.

Arcee - Tori Amos: Late 1990s/2000s Casual

Arcee would go for 20s-30s in terms of age, motorcyclist, we already see this on screen every now and then. I think they would estimate for approximate human age relative to one another’s Cybertronian age, so this works as Arcee seems to be younger than the rest.

I picture her outside of her motorcycle gear in a very late 90s/early 2000s style look, casual but stylish. It would throw people off because she’s so much mature than what people might assume, which gives her an edge in conversation.

Her cover story could be that she’s Jack’s cousin, or maybe a friend of his mom’s, depending on what the mission/situation is. Could also possibly say that she’s one of Jack’s co-workers if need be. She’d probably redesign her holoform to have red hair just to troll Jack (the classmate he has a crush on is a redhead).

Bulkhead - Mark Sagato + 1990s Alt Rock Gear

I can easily picture Bulkhead’s holoform looking similar to Mark Sagato, pictured above, who is a former Sumo wrestler and a film actor.

He’d be rocking a green cargo jacket layered with a plaid flannel shirt over a plain white tee or a band t-shirt and blue jeans with black steel toe boots, possibly with a workman’s tool belt. His cover story could be that he’s Miko’s uncle visiting from Japan!

I imagine a very casual 90s alternative rock meets almost-lumberjack look for him, to match Miko a bit. He’d probably have some ribbon wristbands from live shows/gigs up his arm, because Miko would absolutely encourage accessorising.

Wheeljack - Billy Idol + Specifically Grunge Punk

Wheeljack would be every single old school dude in the grunge punk scene that I’ve ever met. He’d look like an older Billy Idol, but only if you imagine what that would look like, not like, the actually currently old Billy Idol.

Older guy, skinny but tough, jean jacket covered in patches and buttons and pins, black jeans held together with random string sewn in like embroidery thread, a pair of Converse so old that they might be from the 70s original line. Grey bandana also covered in pins around his head and another around his neck. He would also have ribbon wristbands from shows, courtesy of Miko’s style advice.

Bumblebee - Fred Olande: 1995 Was a Great Year for Skateboarding

Bumblebee would be a young guy, maybe even late teens/early 20s, massively baggy yellow hoodie with a black jean vest over the top like a lot of young guys wore in the 90s back when I wasn’t a dinosaur myself. Jeans that are pale from being worn/washed too many times, threadbare around the knees, wearing some kind of skateboarding shoe. I imagine him wearing a beanie as well. Every pocket is full of graffiti pens for the skatepark and his phone screen is cracked.

Raf would help him with his holoform details, and I can picture him basing his look off of some of Raf’s family photos, so he’d definitely be Mexican/Latinx. His cover story could be that he’s Raf’s cousin visiting from a border town or Mexico, and his excuse for not speaking would simply be that he doesn’t know that much English, so that would work out perfectly.

Smokescreen - 1970s/1980s Sports Gear Forever

Smokescreen would inevitably try to go for a 1970s/80s movie inspired sporty look, and would probably look to be about in his late teens/early 20s.

Think classic white Nikes, very sporty 80s style with a white and blue puffy jacket (or sweat shirt) and red fabric wristbands. If anyone has a mullet or a feathered hair style, it’s gonna be Smokescreen. His tank top is Adidas, and his sweatpants are also Adidas.

Unfortunately, he then discovers that shorts exist, and cycles between the classic Butterick patterns above, depending on the mission/who he is trying to impress that day.

(I won’t lie, I did the shorts over sweatpants thing well into the 90s. Yes, I was made fun of.)

#humanformers #transformers prime #tfp #wheeljack #bulkhead #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #arcee #ultra magnus #maccadam

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mostlyskateboarding · 8 years ago

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#casper brooker #ollie #nike #nike sb #UK #isle skateboards #grey magazine #grey skate mag #England #rad #cool #awesome #swag #dope #skate #skateboarding #skating #skater

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otonymous · 4 years ago

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A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part IV (End): Courage, My Love

Description: The final chapter. The Big Bang 😉 Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: physically aggressive behaviour, ex-boyfriends, angst, size kink, profanity, vaginal fingering and intercourse Word Count: 4237 words (~21 mins of thrills, real talk, fluff and smut) Author’s Notes: To all the lovelies who have been patiently following this story: you’ve made it! 🥳 Welcome to the final chapter in this Shaw saga, where we aim to go out with a massive bang (pun intended 😆). Once again, thank you all for every like, reblog, and comment I’ve received on this story. You are all amazing, and I appreciate your support! 💕

As always, tagging the lovely @op-peccatori — I hope you enjoyed this story! I certainly had lots of fun writing this! Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, dear readers, and happy reading!

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

The quiet is back.

But there is no peace, no relief in the monotony that follows after the man known as Shaw burst into your life like a bolt from the blue, stirring up long forgotten feelings like dead leaves animated by a carefree wind — here one minute, gone the next.

And with each passing day, hope erodes.

Little by little, your heart learns not to race as the clock above the magazine rack approaches 1:30.

It becomes harder to remember the sound purple sneakers made walking through the store.

You stop hoping, wishing, to see a head of lavender hair; that the next person to approach the register would place a cup of Pepsi mixed with Coke on the counter, amber-eyed gaze speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Days become weeks, and then eventually…

…you stop counting them altogether.

* * *

“You’re looking good. I see you’re doing well for yourself.”

He reaches for the jade pendant hanging around your neck, eyes flashing with amusement when you hit his hand away with an audible smack.

“What the hell do you want? Haven’t you already done enough?” You say through grit teeth, steps quickening as you head for the better lit part of the street, trying to outpace the man and silently cursing the fact that returning to the convenience store was no longer an option at this point.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. It took a lot of effort to track you down and I waited a very long time for you to get off work. It’s cold, dark and lonely out here. Is that any way to treat your boyfriend? Or friend, at least?”

“ ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ asshole, and you’re no friend of mine, especially not after the way you took my life’s savings and ran.”

“Baby, it wasn’t like that—”

“Oh yeah?! Did you try telling that to the loan sharks too before they came and trashed my place? I had to move, Leto, because it wasn’t safe for me anymore, not with the way they kept harassing me and the neighbours asking about your whereabouts. They even came to my office. I lost my fucking job. So don’t come around here and tell me that I’m doing well for myself.”

Breaking into a sprint, your mind races as you try to think of a way to lose your ex, anger and anxiety prickling every nerve in equal measure. He had ruined your life, singlehandedly taken away everything you had. And though you had known him once, desperation has a way of making monsters out of men.

And right now, for all you knew, he was desperate and dangerous.

“Please, I just want to talk. I don’t need much this time, just a little bit to get me through this rough patch. I’ll pay you back, I swear, just…just STOP FOR A MOMENT!—”

You shriek to feel Leto wrap his hand about your wrist, but before he could tighten his grip, another arm is thrown around your shoulder, pulling you back until you’re pressed up against a hard, muscular chest, staring at a close up of Snoopy riding a skateboard.

“You got business with my girl?”

That voice. Dangerous and cocksure, yet comforting like nothing else as the muffled words reverberate through the tiny bones of your ear, a prelude to the soothing ba-bump of his heart, rhythm steady and concrete as the ground upon which you stood.

Shaw.

He’s really here.

“Hehe. Your girl?” The derision in Leto’s voice makes you sick to your stomach; you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop as he looks Shaw up and down, zeroing in on his old t-shirt. “Tsk, tsk. So, not only do you enjoy wearing second hand clothing, you also have the habit of picking up sloppy seconds?”

BOOM!

Deafening thunder rolls moments after a bolt of lightning rends the night sky in two, throwing a jagged spotlight on the fury written on Shaw’s face when he moves just as fast to grab a fistful of Leto’s collar. The muscles of his forearm bulge as he holds up the entirety of Leto’s bodyweight in one hand, the sky opening in a sudden downpour as your ex struggles in midair, rain dripping almost comically from dangling feet.

And when Shaw brings Leto’s terrified face up close, the ferocity in those amber eyes sends a chill up your spine.

“This is the last time you’ll ever talk to her, see her, even think about her. Or else I’ll find you and take my sweet time making you wish you were never born, do you understand me?”

Head bobbing in vigorous nods, drops of water fly off the tips of Leto’s rain-slicked hair. Seemingly satisfied, Shaw tosses him onto the ground at your feet, voice low yet audible as it cuts through the din of the storm when he says, “Beg for her forgiveness.”

The fear in his expression almost palpable, Leto looks between you and Shaw — cowardice etched onto features you had once found so pleasing a lifetime ago. He prostrates himself onto the wet pavement, voice cracking in between sobs as he yells over the sound of the rain:

“P-please…please forgive me! I’m a piece of shit! I’m nothing, I’m garbage! I…I deserve to go to Hell for what I did to you! I-I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

Leto reaches out a shaky hand towards your soaked shoes before he remembers Shaw’s warning, but it is too late. Black combat boots hit the concrete hard within an inch of Leto’s face as Shaw stoops, yanking back a fistful of hair and pulling until your ex is looking up at you like a pitiful supplicant begging for mercy.

“Satisfied?” Shaw looks to you as if he were asking about something as mundane as the weather. You nod, suddenly too tired to even speak. You wanted to wash your hands of Leto, wanted nothing to do with all that had happened since you finished your shift at the convenience store. All you could do was watch as Leto scrambled away on all fours the moment Shaw loosened his hold, running until he was nothing more than a speck of darkness merging with the night.

The rain is cold, wetness driving against your body to leech even the final bits of warmth from bone. Your clothes are drenched, heavy as they cling uncomfortably to skin. But you are too drained to care, lacking the energy to even notice when the dim light of the streetlamp above is blotted out — Shaw holding his leather jacket over your head in the place of an umbrella.

All you are aware of before your vision goes dark is the anxiety in his voice when he calls your name over and over again, how weightless it felt to be carried in the cradle of his arms.

How much you missed the scent you thought you had learned to forget.

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

“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

You opened your eyes to gaze into irises of warm amber, the situation similar to one you experienced before except for the fact that this time, you were the one lying in bed, staring at a man who sat on its edge, brows knit with concern beneath soft lavender strands.

“If you slept for any longer, I would’ve had to knock on your neighbour’s door.” Shaw chuckles but the sound is hollow, mirthlessness obvious like the blanched knuckles of his tightly clenched fists.

“What…how did we…” You begin, voice raspy as it dies, a sudden sharp pain in your throat making you wince.

And immediately, Shaw is on his feet, rummaging through cupboards in your kitchen until he finds a glass. You watch him run the tap, fill it to the brim. Feel the strength of his arm around your back as he holds you up, touch lingering even as you down the water in gulps to chase the discomfort away.

“You passed out not long after your douchebag of an ex ran off with his tail between his legs. I found your keys in your purse, so I let myself into your apartment — hope you don’t mind. Although, to be fair, I was also carrying you at the time, so it’s not really breaking and entering.”

Head feeling like it would explode as the events of the evening come rushing back, you turn towards him…slowly…slowly, afraid Shaw might disappear before your eyes should any movement prove too sudden.

Thank him. Now. Before he goes away again.

He is close, so close that you can count those long, beautiful lashes; almost feel the minuscule shifts in the air between you every time he blinks — those pupils encroaching onto gold as they expand and pulling you into their depths as they do.

“Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t flinch at your question, and you can’t bring yourself to be shocked by the discrepancy between what you meant to say and the words actually spilling from your lips. And as the grey memory of days spent counting the hours of his absence settles like lead in the pit of your stomach, the only thing you knew was that your heart couldn’t survive latching onto this sliver of hope only to have it ripped away again.

All you wanted…was the truth.

“Because I can’t stand to see you sad anymore.”

There is no smirk to stretch across that handsome face, only pain that hurts your heart to see it. Resignation heavy in his voice, Shaw takes a deep breath before he continues.

“Turns out I’m weak when it comes to you. Selfish. I know I’m no good for you; there’s no future with me. I can’t give you anything, can’t even promise you tomorrow, but…I just can’t stop thinking about you. Wondering how you are. Whether you’re eating well, sleeping well. If you’re safe…happy.

“Tonight wasn’t supposed to happen. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that some asshole wasn’t going to hassle you at work. But then your ex showed up and when he tried to get fresh with you, well…I couldn’t let that slide.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but…I’m sorry, if I ever made you sad, if I scared you. I’m sorry for everything.”

His gaze drops to the rip in his jeans, the drip, drip of the leaky faucet the only sound in the ensuing silence of his confession. That is, until you say,

“I’m sorry too…that you’re such an idiot.”

His head whips up, brows furrowed and mouth slack as if caught in a rare moment of speechlessness. The shock makes him seem years younger, lending him an air of innocence that you couldn’t help but smile at.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions. I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what I would be getting into by being with you. You say you can’t promise me tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. All we can ask for — hope for — is the here and now.

“Love takes courage, as does life. But a life without love…it’s not much of a life, is it? So I’m willing to be brave if that’s what it’ll take for us to be together.”

As quickly as they came, the words are gone, leaving you cotton-mouthed and faint as your heart pounds to send the blood rushing to your ears. That could’ve been the only explanation as to why Shaw’s “I knew there was a reason why I loved you” sounded so muffled you had to ask him to repeat himself.

“Too bad, I only say things once.”

And there it is again: the spark in his eyes, smirk on those lips — igniting the fire you only allowed yourself to feel in dreams of his body on yours, skin to skin like kindling to flame.

“Are you that single-minded about everything?” You ask, the smile on your face mirroring his as it approaches closer…

“Only when it comes to not letting go of the one I care about.”

…closer…

“Tell me one thing.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

…and closer still.

Lips now a hair’s breadth apart, the gentle rhythm of his exhalation blows soft upon your cupid’s bow; a shy request. Your vision is filled with him, wonderfully awash with colour — lavender, amber, the soft pink of his mouth — and you wished you were the very clothes upon his body; saturated in his intensity, dyed in his hues.

His eyes fixate on your tongue when you wet your lips before asking, “That night, when you were hurt so badly you passed out in my store…why did you still insist on coming in?”

Shaw’s breath catches, hitching in his throat. You know because you can feel it, the way the warmth stops short on your skin. And when he speaks, the eyes that hold yours tell you this is no lie.

“Because if it was going to be the last night of my life, I didn’t want to go without seeing your face one more time.”

Love is a funny thing. Formless, senseless, yet the strongest thing that could bind two strangers. You hadn’t known Shaw for long, could count the days you spent together on one hand. And still, entirely without reason, he bled into each and every hour, crept into the darkest corners of your mind to fill your weary heart with a desperation that made it very clear that love was far from done with you.

That right or wrong, the only place you wanted to be was here — held in the arms that wrapped around your body: hot, tight, safe…

…Shaw.

His lips are softer than you ever imagined when he brings his face to yours, plush silk gliding corner to corner to cover your mouth in reverent kisses — one for each night he came into your store, watched over you from afar.

Your stalwart protector.

You tasted it now, the remnants of cinnamon on his tongue from the gum he was so fond of chewing, intensified by the memory of all the times you wondered about its flavour: pink bubbles popping in his mouth as he coolly dealt with the robber, the night you emptied his pockets as your neighbour stitched him up on your bed.

Shaw tasted sweet. Far sweeter than you ever imagined.

And when his tongue slides against yours — slow and sure as it explores your mouth with increasing fervour before drawing back just as you clenched around emptiness, yearning for more, the beast within you refuses to abide.

You like the shock that passes over his face when you move, sudden and forceful, to push him onto the mattress beneath you; the artless way Shaw sinks teeth into his bottom lip in response. You like how he watches as you straddle his hips — gaze earnest and body honest, hardening as you grind undulating circles upon his groin.

But, perhaps most of all, you liked the spark of something wild in those amber eyes, an unpredictability warning that if you weren’t careful, you’d be the one to find yourself pinned to the bed.

Because wasn’t that ultimately the push-and-pull that characterized so much between you and him? Maddening at times, but always, always binding you to Shaw like some red string of fate.

So you nod when he whispers “May I?”, unable to suppress a moan to finally feel his hands on you: tracing along your jaw, cradling your face…resting the pad of his finger on your lip before pushing past to stroke your tongue.

Every sound he makes pleases; the soft hiss preceding the bob of his Adam’s apple to feel your lips pucker around his finger to suck, pink tongue enticing as it swirls along the length of that digit, drawing it deeper into the hot wetness of your mouth.

You never saw yourself as seductive before, but Shaw made you feel sexy. Perhaps the impulse stemmed from some primitive desire, an instinctive call to please the man you felt so profoundly for that shame was the farthest thing from your mind when you pulled his hand from your lips to guide it to your breast, only partially aware of how wet you were becoming from his gaze alone — half-lidded and heavy with lust.

The heat of his touch permeates your blouse, white and transparent still in patches from the rain. You watch his hands as they play: cupping your breasts in a gentle squeeze, thumbs and forefingers catching your nipples to pinch and roll until they stood stiff against the drape of your clothing, the flush of your flesh bold through fabric.

“You’re so beautiful that there are times I think you can’t possibly be real.”

His voice is low, husky. You let it wash over you, almost frightened by how stupidly happy you become, willing the magic to linger even as his words dissipate amongst the sounds of the night: neon buzzing and the faraway screams of sirens in the distance.

A world apart.

Your hands find the broad expanse of his chest, tracing along muscle before circling the nipples that stood erect against his damp t-shirt. Each twitch is endearing, every erratic breath he draws to feel your touch making you fall harder. And when he tries to focus on unbuttoning your blouse while fighting the impulse to tear it clean off your body, the stirring between your legs grows in intensity until he finally pulls the silken panels aside, a quiet gasp escaping his lips to see his necklace nestled between your breasts.

“It really does belong on you.”

The admiration in his tone is laced with a hint of possessiveness that makes you throb. Shaw pushes himself to sitting, gathering you onto his lap in one smooth motion as he buries his face in your chest, inhaling deep. You gasp to feel gentle teeth sink into the flesh of your breasts, Shaw following the chain of precious metal with his lips until it leads to the pendant. And when his tongue slips out to draw the piece of jade into his mouth, he brings your nipple along with it.

“Oh!…”

The sensation is unlike any you’ve known before, the soft wetness of his pliant tongue a searing contrast with the cool, smooth stone rubbing against the sensitive tip of your breast in equal measure. You feel his smile on your skin when you fist your hands into lavender hair, spine curving as your legs begin to tremble.

And he had yet to touch you below the waist.

“Your body responds so well to me. I knew you were a good girl.” He looks up at you, teasing shamelessly even as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

“Just your girl, if you’ll have me,” you say without second thought, long past the point of caring to keep your cards close to your chest.

Something breaks in that expression, the final walls crumbling like dust when Shaw blinks once…twice, revealing eyes that shine with emotion when he replies, “For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

* * *

“Hmm!—”

Your moan is muffled, swallowed by Shaw’s greedy lips like he does with every sound of ecstasy that leaks like you do around his cock, buried impossibly deep in your body as it rocks back and forth, back and forth on his muscular thighs…

…doing your best to adjust to his ample size.

He had barely suppressed a chuckle when you first slipped your hand into his jeans, a subtle mix of pride and amusement on his face to see your eyes widen when you couldn’t quite wrap palm and fingers around the entirety of his girth.

And foreplay had only just begun.

“Still doing okay?” Shaw asks, touch tender as he brushes loose strands of hair from your eyes, lips smoothing along the apple of your cheek to feel its pink heat. “We can go as slow as you want, there’s no rush. If it’s too much, we can stop—”

“No! No…I’m okay. More than okay, I’m great. Please…please don’t stop…don’t stop…”

Struggling to string words together, your breath comes in disjointed pants as Shaw begin to thrust up — the look on his face effortlessly sensual when he bites his lip to feel you spasm around him, tight wetness yielding in increments to accommodate his body as it broke new ground.

For you had never taken a man of that size, the litheness of Shaw’s muscular body belying the impressive package he’d been hiding in those jeans. Your jaw ached just to look upon the length of that thick cock, mouth watering as a fresh wave of arousal made you press your thighs tighter together. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. Shaw had drawn you to him then — deft fingers dipping low to trace the outline of your swollen folds through moist panties, lavender head bending to kiss its lacy trim.

He took his time preparing you, licking his fingers before he eased them into your pussy — first one, then two…curling deep until the slippery sounds of arousal told him the time was ripe to introduce the third, leaving you blooming for him even as he whispered, “Think you’re ready for me to make you my girl for real?”

It borders on overwhelming, this sensation of fullness — between your legs, within your heart. And as skin stretched to capacity to accommodate the sweet friction of his slide, you wished there was a way for the euphoria of this connection to last forever:

To the one you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

To this man you loved like no other.

“Shaw.”

His name is faint on your breath when he falls back onto the bed, taking you with him. And as you found yourself straddling his hips once more, the altered angles of your bodies gave him the leverage to make you gasp when he begins to thrust in earnest. The eroticism of his face, lost in lust, drives all thoughts from your mind as you drop a hand to your clit, fingers drawing tight circles before his hungry eyes.

The violence of your climax takes you by surprise, having no time to consider neighbours and thin walls as the lewdest sounds escape your lips at high volume. Intense convulsions wracking your body in waves, you clench in time around your lover. The sensation proves too much to bear, drawing out Shaw’s own release as he pulls out to spill onto the folds of your pussy — swollen and pink and trembling still beneath the coat of his pearlescent seed.

* * *

“I love you.”

Morning light trickles across your walls like the slow crawl of spidery legs. Shaw’s words hang in the air between you, a final, sacred moment shared between lovers before the rest of the world wakes.

You loved the hoarseness in his voice; a testament to the hours of noisy lovemaking you had shared in lieu of sleep.

You loved the weight of his hand, stroking softly at the crown of your head.

You loved the rhythm of his heart, echoing just below your ear to confirm his existence.

“I love you too.”

You look up into those amber eyes, trying to discern whether those four little words were sufficient in conveying that fact that you adored every fibre of the man before you.

The smile that graces his face in return is tender, honest…more brilliant than the day breaking in the East.

Your hands find his body, bare beneath the sheets. And as a curious finger traces along the ridge of the scar that runs in a broad stroke across his sculpted abdomen, your gaze falls on his t-shirt, draped over the back of a chair.

“You should probably throw that Snoopy shirt away, especially after what happened last night.”

Shaw follows your line of sight, chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. “Shitty as its previous owner was, I could never bring myself to hate something that reminds me of you. Aside from saving my ass, this was the first gift you ever gave me. And I never throw away gifts from my girl.”

His girl.

The mystery of life is that filled with unknowns though it is, we continue to live, brave in the face of the uncertainty that comes with every passing day. You had no idea what fate had in store for you or Shaw, had no way of knowing if your relationship existed on borrowed time.

The only thing you were certain of was that your feelings for each other were real, that try as you might, neither of you were very good at forgetting the other. That in this moment, here and now, the only thing that mattered was this love that hit you…

…like a bolt from the blue.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this Shaw saga! 💖

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work. Reblogs, on the other hand, are perfectly fine and much appreciated! 💖👍🏼)

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #fanfiction #my writing #elex

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