#i still can't believe i actually wrote it

[punkrockmlchael]

Bandmates

Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem Bandmate!Reader

Modern AU; Enemies to Lovers (Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Verbally Fighting, Mature Language (Swearing), Sexual Tension, Cocky/Arrogant Gareth (He still asks for consent though which is key! But he's also lowkey a dick.. sigh), Use of Pet Names (princess, angel, baby girl), Smut: Oral (Fem + Male Receiving - Gareth is a head pusher!), Fingering, Cum Eating, Unprotected Sex, PinV, Creampie, afab reader

Synopsis: You're the bass player in the infamous music group, Corroded Coffin. You get along extremely well with Eddie and Jeff, the two guitarists. But, when it comes to the drummer, Gareth, you literally can't win. Everything you do is just wrong and nothing you do will ever be right in his eyes. He constantly mocks you and reminds you that you "suck" at what you do and you've finally had enough, making tonight the night you confront him about it.

This is something I originally wrote and didn’t like so I’m revamping it; sorry not sorry! I think it's better and smuttier than before hehe thank you @keeryhours for proof reading some of this because I felt like I just couldn't anymore.

Word Count: 5.5k

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"Great show, guys!" Eddie exclaimed as the elevator door of the hotel shut, enclosing you and the three boys inside the small space.

"Yeah, pretty kick ass. Anyone down for drinks?" Jeff asked, pressing the button for the bar.

"Hell yeah," Eddie replied. He then turned his attention towards you, calling your name. "What about you?" 

You shook your head slightly and leaned against the wall of the elevator. "No, I'm probably going to shower and head to bed, I think. But, thanks though; remember to be smart, stay safe and have fun guys." You giggled slightly. 

"Lame. Gareth, you?" Eddie asked, directing his attention to the drummer of the band. Gareth shook his head as well. 

"Nah, not right now. I'll probably catch up with you guys later, though." Gareth replied. Jeff and Eddie smiled and nodded at you and Gareth as the elevator doors opened. The pair stepped out of the elevator and ran straight for the bar to likely drink for the remainder of the night. 

After Eddie and Jeff were out of sight, you took a half step forward and hit the number 4 button on the wall, watching the doors slowly shut in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and put all your weight on your right foot, standing as far away from Gareth as humanly possible in the tiny elevator. "Why am I always stuck with you?" You huffed, avoiding eye contact with him. 

"Believe me, I was wondering the same thing." He responded. He mocked your stance, leaning on his left foot away from you. "But hey, at least you were in tune tonight. That's a plus." You shot him a glare in reply. 

"Oh yeah, too bad you were off beat, though," you retorted back, smirking slightly.

"You fucking wish, princess. You know I'm always on beat, perfectly might I add."

"Someone's fucking cocky. And wrong. You're never on beat." He shook his head at your response, clenching his fists at his sides from anger. 

"At least I can actually play an instrument. You can't play the bass to save your fucking life, you know that? I don't know why Eddie ever suggested letting you join the band, all you've done is hold us back this whole time." He spit out.

"You're right," you said softly, looking at him. "All I do is hold you guys back. Too bad I can't hold back your mistakes. And, at least my solo was on time tonight, unlike yours." You added, watching the elevator door open. You stepped out and walked to your room, Gareth hot on your tracks. 

"My solo tonight was perfect!" He yelled, following after you.

You stopped in front of your hotel room and turned to him. "Shut the actual fuck up, Gareth; it’s late. People on this floor are trying to sleep, they don't want to listen to you trying to prove yourself to a woman you don't even like." You scoffed, fishing your room key out of your pants pocket. You placed the card to the door, opening it slightly. 

"You started it." He responded, watching you step into the room. You tried to shut the door behind you but he stopped you, shoving his foot in the door. You groaned in annoyance and looked up at him. 

"I didn't start shit." You growled. "You always fucking start shit like this and continue to blame me, and frankly, I'm done with it. You're literally a fucking asshole; you don't care about anyone but yourself and it shows. Now, I swear to god, move your foot or I will break it so you can't play the fucking drums anymore." You added, trying to shut the door on him again. 

"I don't always start shit." He said, pushing the door open before he squeezed his way inside of your hotel room. "And, I don't only care about myself." The door shut behind him as he stood there in your room. 

"Yes you fucking do! You're literally an ass to me, and I'm so sick of it. What did I ever fucking do to you?" You shouted, not caring about how loud you were now that the door was closed. "I've been nothing, nothing, but nice to you since I joined the band. Which, by the way, was only like a month after it started, remember? It's not my fault Grant didn't want to play with you guys anymore but if this is how you treat your bass players, then I'm not fucking surprised. Gareth, get off of your fucking high horse. You are not the lead of this band, hell, neither am I. But, at least I respect everyone's role in this band, including yours." You stepped towards him and huffed, poking his chest on the last word. "You're just so," you groaned and looked at him, trying to hold in your anger. You let out a deep breath and clenched your fists before they fell to your sides. "Just get out of my fucking room, now." You raised one arm and pointed towards the door behind him. "Now."

"I do respect your role. In fact, I respect everyone's role." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Yeah, well, you don't fucking show it. It's always 'you're off', 'your solo was too late', 'your bass isn't tuned right'; why is nothing I do good enough for you?" You questioned, standing close to him, your arms crossing over your own chest. 

"Why do you feel like you need to prove yourself to me?" He responded, moving his face closer to yours. 

"I don't feel like I need to prove myself to you, but sometimes some encouragement and praise is nice and needed, from all of your bandmates." You said, your face now inches from his. "If we're all in this together then you should fucking show that you care." 

He narrowed his eyes and looked at you. "So, then, what do you want?" He asked, smirking slightly. "Oh, your solo was so amazing tonight, oh your bass sounded so in tune tonight, oh you sounded so perfect tonight and it was so hot when you jumped around in a circle with your bass during the last song." You looked at him, a soft blush creeping over your cheeks as you heard the words come out of his mouth. You tried to keep the pink tint of your cheeks out of his view, but it was clear he saw. 

"Oh, Gareth, your drum solo was so on point tonight, you actually sounded really good tonight, and that little head nod you do while drumming, oh my god, I'm totally swooning for you." You replied. He smirked, moving his face closer to yours, his lips almost touching yours. 

"Yeah, that’s better, princess; that’s exactly how it should be.” Gareth paused slightly before staring into your eyes, “also, who the fuck said that I didn't like you?" A confused look fell over your face after hearing his question. "Earlier you said people on this floor don't want to listen to me trying to prove myself to a woman I don't even like—who said I didn't like you?"

"You. You have told me that you don’t like me multiple times."

"No, I've never actually said that to you, or to anyone for that matter. Because technically, the problem isn't that I don't like you, the problem is that I like you a lot." He said those words and your heart jumped in your chest, a shocked look growing on your face. "Look, do you know how hard it is to be behind you on stage every night, watching your every move? You're so fucking hot. Jumping around in your little mini skirts and all those tight pants. If my solo is ever off or if I'm ever messing up the beats it's your fault. You're to blame because all I'm doing is fucking watching you during the show, instead of focusing on my drum set."

"I don't believe you." You said truthfully, looking up at him. His face was still inches from yours, both of you staring into each other's eyes. "I feel like this is all a game to get inside my head and make me mess up every single show." He smirked softly, towering over you. 

"Is it really that easy to get inside that pretty little head of yours?" Gareth asked slowly, moving his hand up to your face. He held your face softly and looked at you, the redness now growing more prominent on your face. He tilted your head up gently, forcing you to look up at him. "You're literally so fucking hot, the fact that you're still single blows my mind. And, honestly, the fact that Eddie and Jeff don't get distracted like I do while on stage with you is also mind boggling to me. I mean, yeah, I'm behind all of you so I see everything, but you walk over to Jeff all the time and distract him while Eddie is singing and he smiles along and goes with it, never missing a chord. If you ever came over to my drum set I think I would actually forget how to fucking play; the sticks would just sit in my hands motionless." He moved his hand down to the side of your neck, holding it carefully before he leaned in slowly, his warm breath hitting your lips. "Ever since you joined the band, ever since that first band practice with you... all I've wanted to do is kiss you so fucking hard and find out what's actually under all these mini skirts and crop tops you always wear." He mumbled, his face so close to you that his lips were almost touching yours. "I've just wanted to pick you apart piece by piece for my own personal pleasure."

"Then do it." You replied, watching him smirk. "What's stopping you?"

He didn't hesitate after hearing your answer. He crashed his lips into yours, kissing you roughly. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pulled your body towards his roughly. 

You groaned when your body hit his, your arms moving to his neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the intense kiss between you both. You pulled away slightly and looked at him, smirking to yourself. "You know," you started, "I've always wanted to do that to you too; find out what's under these lame band tees you wear all the time." You admitted to him, looking down at his Metallica shirt.

"Maybe we should just find out then, huh?" He asked, kissing you again. You pulled him over to your bed and stumbled slightly on your way, never breaking the kiss. You stopped when your legs hit the mattress and Gareth pulled away from the kiss to push you down gently onto the soft hotel bed. He slid off his flannel and pulled his t-shirt over his head, throwing both to the side of the room. He crawled on top of you and looked down at you, smiling a little. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, his eyes scanning your face carefully. 

"I've never been more sure," you replied as you returned the smile. He kissed you again, his hands tugging at your crop top. He pulled it up, breaking the kiss to get your shirt up and over your head. He looked down, seeing your bright red lace bra. His left hand made its way to your left breast, squeezing it gently through the lace fabric.

"Mm, you're wearing my favorite color. And it looks so fucking good on you." He kissed your neck slowly before he kissed down your collarbone and chest. He bit the skin above your bra softly, sucking at the spot. You moaned softly, watching him. He kissed down your stomach, stopping right above your black skinny jeans. He undid them and slid them off slowly, revealing your matching red lace thong. "Matching today, are we?" Gareth asked, sitting up slightly to get a better look at your body in your matching set. 

You giggled slightly, looking up at him with a wink. "Yeah, my tradition has always been to wear matching sets on performance days. I think it helps me perform better," you admitted, his eyes scanning back up your body to meet yours.

"Well, I think that's really fucking hot." He undid his own jeans, sliding them down. He crawled on top of you in his boxers and smiled, before he kissed you again. 

You pushed him over and pinned him to the bed, now taking the spot on top. You crawled on top of him and straddled his waist, leaning down to kiss him again. He groaned into the kiss, his hands grabbing your hips as he moved against you slowly, creating friction. You moaned softly and pulled away slowly, kissing down his neck to right above his collarbone. You bit the skin softly and sucked on it, creating a pink mark that would soon turn into a bruise. 

You smirked at the mark and looked back up at him. His bright blue eyes now dark as they watched you on top of him, craving more from you. You reached behind your back and undid your bra, sliding it off of your shoulders before you threw it to the side of the bed. His eyes met your breasts, staring at them before he moved his hands up to them; he held them in his hands carefully, squeezing them softly, which caused you to groan. You groaned loudly and moved your hips down again, rubbing against him. 

"Fuck, baby,” he groaned, squeezing your breasts harder. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he breathed, looking back up at you. You blushed at his words, moaning softly as he continued to squeeze and massage your breasts. 

"Fuck," you breathed, looking at him. "You know, you're not too bad yourself," you smirked. You leaned in and kissed him again, receiving a groan back from him. He moved one hand down your chest and stomach, stopping right on the front of your panties. He rubbed you softly and slowly through the thin, lace fabric, receiving a whine back from you. "You…You can't tease me..." you said softly, pulling away from the kiss slightly. 

"And why not?" He asked, continuing to rub up and down your folds softly and slowly. “I think it’s fun,” he muttered as he looked up at you, leaning in to kiss you again. His lips pressed against yours roughly, kissing you intensely. You sighed into the kiss, moving against his hand to try and create some more friction for yourself. 

"Eager, are we?" Gareth grinned into the kiss, pulling back to look up at you again.

You rolled your eyes slightly, a bit embarrassed that your body and moves were giving you away but you really couldn't control it much anymore. "Don't let this go to your head," you sighed, kissing him again. He chuckled softly, moving his hands to rest on your hips gently.

"Too late," he mumbled, rubbing circles on your hips gently. "You're boosting my ego more than I'd like to admit," he adds, looking at you. "But, then again, I guess having a beautiful woman in your lap, almost naked, begging for your cock does that to you." 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "Hey, I am not begging!" You argued, crossing your arms over your chest while you grind against him, creating friction. He groaned softly and threw his head back against the pillows, tightening his grip on your hips. 

"Not directly," he replied, "but this," he said, looking at you. "Totally means you want me." He smirked, moving his hips up gently, his rock hard bulge hitting your clothed core. 

"Okay, okay, fine," you whined, kissing him again. "You win," you mumbled against his lips. 

He smirked into the kiss and repositioned you back on the bed, laying you down on the blanket. Pulling away from the kiss, Gareth kissed down your body, stopping on your lower stomach above the hem of your thong. He kissed over your clothed core gently, glancing up at you as you moaned softly. He pulled your thong down slowly, leaving kisses over your inner thighs as he did. 

“Fuck, Gareth,” you groaned, your fingers moving to his curls gently as he left more and more kisses on your inner thighs. 

“Yes, angel?” He asked, looking up at you as he placed a soft kiss over your clit gently. You tugged on his curls gently, whining as you looked down at him.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, watching him as he licked a stripe up your folds. 

“Mm, tasting you; I’ve always wondered what you taste like. Is that alright?” Gareth asked, sucking on your clit gently. 

“Fuck, more than okay,” you sighed, pulling on his curls harder. “You’ve wondered what I taste like?”

Gareth hummed against your clit, looking up at you. “Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head,” he said softly as he sucked on your clit harder, his fingers teasing your entrance. 

You moaned softly, looking down at him, “too late.” He smirked against your clit softly, pushing his pointer and middle fingers into you slowly. You moaned louder, tugging on his curls as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. He placed soft kisses on your clit, pumping his fingers faster as he began to curl them slightly. 

His tongue flicked over your clit a couple of times before he pulled his fingers out of you. He moved his hands underneath your thighs, lifting them up gently as he licked up and down your folds again, his tongue now teasing your entrance. 

Whiney, needy moans left your mouth, your back arching off of the bed gently as you tangled your fingers deeper into his curls, pushing his head down gently so that it was closer to your core. Your hips moved up slightly as well, grinding against Gareth’s tongue and he continued to lick up and down your entrance. 

“One second she hates me, the next she’s pushing my head down to eat her out,” Gareth commented as he looked up at you, kissing and sucking your clit again. 

“God, you’re so arrogant,” you mumbled back, pushing his head back down again to get him to shut up. “God, you’re just, fuck,” you added, closing your eyes as your thighs squeezed together against Gareth’s head. 

He moaned against you, his tongue moving back to your entrance. He darted his tongue in and out a couple of times as his nose pressed against your clit, adding pressure there while he ate you out. His hands squeezed your thighs gently, pulling you closer to him until there was no room left. 

He could barely breathe, but he continued to eat you out sloppily as you moaned louder and louder beneath him. Your back arched more, and you tugged on his curls harder as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. 

“Gareth,” you moaned, looking down at him. He looked up at you, making eye contact with you as he stayed stuck between your thighs. “Shit, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, squeezing your thighs around his head tighter. 

He groaned against you, darting his tongue in and out of you faster. He moved his head slightly, adding a different feeling of pressure onto your clit with his nose causing you to moan his name again as you released onto his tongue and face. You whined, pulling his locks tightly as you moved your hips against him, riding out your high. 

Gareth moaned as he licked you clean, licking it all up greedily. You sighed, laying back on the bed as your body relaxed fully. Gareth placed more kisses on your inner thighs before he pulled away, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices. 

“Still hate me?” He asked with a cocky grin as he wiped his chin off with his arm gently. You looked at him, rolling your eyes as you sat up gently.

“Somehow, I hate you more,” you teased, standing up slowly.

Gareth placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurtfulness with a soft gasp. “You wound me, princess,” he mumbled, placing his hands on your hips as you stood in front of him. “But, your moans and whines for me say otherwise.” 

“God, you’re so cocky,” you mumbled, sinking down to your knees in front of him. “Let’s see if I can make you moan and whine for me now,” you added, playing with the waistband of his boxers. You looked up at him as you tugged his boxers down gently, a gasp escaping his lips as the cool air hit his rock hard cock. He groaned and took a step back, stepping out of his boxers before sitting on the edge of the bed.

You crawled towards him on your knees before you wrapped your right hand around the base of his cock, placing soft kisses on the tip of his cock. “Well, shit, never thought I’d see the day that you were on your knees for me, but, here we are,” Gareth smirked, running his fingers through your hair as you looked up at him. You wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, taking some of him in your mouth slowly. “Well, fuck, that’s even better,” he added, “you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, and look at that! It makes you shut up.” He smirked, pushing your head down, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. 

You groaned loudly, gagging slightly as Gareth continued to push your head down more and more. You looked up at him, groaning around him as his fingers tightened around your locks of hair. He pulled your head back gently before he pushed it back down, groaning himself as he bucked his hip up into your mouth. 

“God, angel, you’re so good with your mouth,” he said, watching you as you continued to gag around his cock. “Taking me so well, letting me fuck your face, made so perfectly for me.” He sighed, pushing your head down more until you were a gagging mess, taking all of him in your mouth. “It’s okay baby girl, breathe through your nose,” he said softly, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You did as he said, breathing through your nose as you looked up at him, tears brimming your eyes from the feeling. He pulled you back by your hair slightly before pushing your face back down onto his cock. You groaned more and more as Gareth basically used your mouth and face fucked you.

Tears were spilling out of your eyes as you looked up at him, watching him smirk back down at you. “That’s it, princess, just like that, fuck, you’re being so good; letting me use you for my own personal pleasure.” He groaned out, moving his hand to push your hair out of your face. “Aw, what’s wrong?” He asked, moving his other hand to dry the tears from your cheeks gently as you continued to bob your head up and down. “Can’t take it?” 

You tried to pull back but he stopped you, pushing your head back down. “You’re doing so good, angel,” he sighed, bucking his hips up again as you gagged yet again. “Mm, so good, so perfect, so pretty, so fuck,” Gareth moaned your name loudly as he bucked his hips up again, pushing your head down as he came inside your mouth. He moaned your name again and again as he shot ropes of his release into your mouth and down your throat. “Fuck, take it, swallow it all, I know you want to.”

You moaned around him, swallowing every last drop that the cocky drummer left in your mouth. You bobbed your head a few more times before he released his grip on your hair, groaning as you pulled away from him. You sat back on your knees and coughed slightly, trying to catch your breath. After a few seconds you looked up at him, sticking your tongue out at him like a child. 

“Still hate me?” You asked breathlessly, winking at him.

“You’re a grade A bitch, but, fuck you’re good with your mouth,” he said, pushing your hair our of your face yet again. “Too bad you can’t sing like you suck dick,” he added, smirking at you.

“Yeah, too bad you can’t sing like you eat pussy,” you replied, standing up. “Good with your mouth but you don’t shut the fuck up, and you always need to have the last word, always.”

“Hey! I do not always need to have the last word,” he argued, standing up with you. 

“Yes, you do,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Do not,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rolled your eyes and leaned in, kissing him roughly to try and get him to shut up. He smirked into the kiss, kissing you back eagerly. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, sticking it into your mouth after you gasped. He groaned into your mouth as he tasted himself on your tongue, leaving you to moan and groan as you tasted yourself on his tongue as well.

He pulled you closer to his body, his cock springing to life again as it poked at your thigh. You moaned, moving your right hand from around his neck as you trailed it down his body. You ran your hand over his bicep muscles, his chest and stomach muscles before stopping at his cock. You wrapped your hand around his gently, squeezing it before you started pumping it slowly. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss. “Look, I’m sure your hand is great, but, I think I’d much rather fuck your pretty little pussy,” he looked at you, trailing kisses down your neck and chest as you squeezed his cock again. “That is,” he sighed, “if you think you can handle my cock.” You looked at him and rolled your eyes.

“Mhm, sure I can. What makes you think you can handle my… pretty little pussy?” You asked, kissing his neck softly.

“If I can handle being in a band with you, I think I can handle anything,” Gareth groaned as you left more and more kisses on his neck. He wrapped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up carefully, before he pinned you to the wall of the tiny hotel room. “Especially your pretty little pussy,” he said, kissing your lips again. 

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. You played with the curls at the base of his neck as your lips moved against his. He repositioned himself slightly, rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds. You gasped at the feeling, resting your head back against the wall. 

“Gareth, please,” you sighed, looking up at him.

“Please what, baby girl?” He replied, looking at you with that same cocky grin he always wore.

“Please fuck me,” you answered, trying to move your hips closer to his. “Please, just, fuck me against this wall. I need you inside of me,” you whined. He smirked, pushing the tip of his cock inside of you slowly.

“Is that really how you feel, baby? You want me to fuck you against this wall? I thought you hated me?” You groaned, closing your eyes as he sunk more and more inside of you. Gareth moaned your name, now fully inside of you. “Shit, you are so tight,” he mumbled, kissing and nipping at your neck. “Seems pretty accurate, though. Of course you would be tight, you’re stuck up and rude as hell; it just fits.” 

“Yeah,” you moaned, adjusting to his size as he began to thrust in and out of you slowly and deeply. “And you’re so big, which makes sense considering you have a cocky ego the size of,” you were cut off by a moan as he bit on your neck harder and thrusted into you faster.

“My cocky ego is the size of what, angel?” He asked, leaving marks on your neck.

“Hm?” You asked, completely losing your train of thought as he was thrusting.

“Aw, baby girl, are you drunk for my cock?” He smirked, moving to leave kisses on the other side of your neck.

“Maybe in your dreams,” you moaned, your fingers scratching down his back as he thrusted harder and deeper. “Hm, wow, ironic, you do know how to be in rhythm?” You groaned out, digging your nails into the flesh on his back. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him against you.

“Pipe down, princess,” he groaned out, kissing up your jawline. “Actually, you could probaby just fuck off.” He kissed your lips again, thrusting deeper and deeper with each thrust. You moaned into the kiss, whining against his lips as you felt your second orgasm build for the night. 

“Fuck, Gareth,” you said softly, “I’m gonna cum,” you added, looking up at him.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock. Show me how much you love getting fucked by me and my cock,” Gareth replied, leaving soft kisses over your chest. He thrusted up into you again, hitting your sweet spot before you moaned, your legs tightening around him. You clenched around him, moaning his name as you came for the second time that night, something that Gareth was probably never going to let you forget about. You bucked your hips up and continued to release around him, completely forgetting where you were. 

Gareth helped you ride out your high, thrusting slow and steady as he kissed your lips softly. He moaned against your lips, cock twitching inside of you as he moaned your name. He thrusted deeply one last time before he came deep inside of you, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You groaned at the feeling, sighing as he rode out his high as well.

He sighed, trying to catch his breath as you kept him pinned against you. He rested his forehead on your shoulder slightly, his fingertips grazing up and down your thighs gently. After a few minutes he pulled out of you, wincing at the feeling while you whined at the loss of him. Gareth walked to the bed and set you down gently, your body relaxing as it hit the soft mattress. 

Walking to the bathroom quickly, Gareth came back with a towel. He looked at you and smiled a little, an actual smile, as he cleaned you up gently. He threw the towel on the ground before he crawled on the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist gently. His head nuzzled into your neck as he left soft and sweet kisses over the marks he had left earlier. 

“Hm, are you okay?” He asked softly, looking up at you, his baby blue eyes back to normal as they shined in the light. You nodded, smiling a little as you pushed his hair out of his face.

“Mhm, perfect. You?” He nodded back, smiling at you.

“I’m wonderful, thanks to you.” You closed your eyes, cuddling into Gareth more as you relaxed. You jumped slightly when you heard a knock on your hotel room door, Jeff and Eddie calling your name from the other side with drunken giggles thrown in.

You groaned and jumped up from the bed, scrambling to find clothes. You found Gareth’s Metallica shirt and his boxers, sliding them both on as you fixed your hair gently. You looked at Gareth and threw the blanket over him to hide him. 

“Hey!” He mumbled into the blanket, poking his head out to look at you. You moved your finger to your mouth and moved towards the door quickly, opening it to reveal a very drunk Eddie and Jeff.

Eddie and Jeff smiled at you, giggling your name. “Have you seen Gareth?” Eddie asked, looking at you.

“Yeah, he said he’d catch up with us but he’s not in his room and he’s not answering his phone.” Jeff added, looking you up and down with a small raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” you lied, “haven’t seen him.”

“Interesting,” Jeff replied, looking at you. “Well, if you see him, can you let him know we were looking for him?” You nodded quickly and began to close the door slowly.

“Yeah, will do, bye guys!” You said as you closed the door in their faces, locking it.

“Dude, she just got laid,” you heard Jeff mumble from the other side of the door. Eddie gasped and looked back at your door.

“No fair! Lucky,” Eddie muttered.

You groaned and walked back to the bed, flopping down next to Gareth.

“You haven’t seen me, huh?” He smirked, moving towards you again. You hit his arm gently and smirked back.

“Eddie and Jeff are looking for you,” you giggled, looking at him.

“Yeah, they can wait,” he smiled, leaving another soft kiss on your lips.

[carmilla-dilaurentis]

mmmh idk if you're being inflammatory for no reason or genuinely trying to understand, but I'll go for the second option. It might also be interesting for others. I can't speak for everyone in the Death eater part of the fandom, but personally, what I find "compelling" (so to speak) is that they are basically a cult. Sure, a political one, not a religious or spiritual one, but they still fit all the criteria : worship of a charismatic leader, violence, estrangement from those who disagree, black and white thinking etc And I'm fascinated with cults, probably bc my family has some members in one. So of course I want to read and write about an evil magical cult! Mind you, I don't think writing about them in a nuanced manner means approving or condoning their actions. I'm just a sucker for a reverse redemption arc; a corruption arc, you might say. What brings a person to commit acts of senseless violence? Is it the influence of their family? society? is it vengeance? racism? pettiness? all of the above? What makes one put their trust in a VERY shady person like voldemort, (even though the red flags are so big it's basically the flag of the Republic of China at this point)?! In the case of bellamort: how could anyone want love from somehow so cruel? bigotry, common interests, lust, and so much more. Writing about Death eaters is interesting because it forces you to think about how someone can genuinely believe that implementing a terrible idea (say: joining a murder cult) is somehow going to turn out well (lol) Now, there has been an incident in my life when I realized that someone who I thought wrote about the DE with some necessary perspective actually idealized them and eeeewww I mean i already didn't like her, but yeah that was a breaking point for me But in the same way that not every Maraudeurs fan thinks school bullying is great, I don't believe being interested in the DEs and Voldemort means you agree with their actions. If you write them carefully, you don't need some sort of extreme HEY BY THE WAY THESE ARE THE BAD GUYS warning sign, you know? Anyways, I'm not saying that anyone should force themself to read about characters or topics that make them uncomfortable. But If you want to read an EXCELLENT example of someone depicting fucked up behavior in an nuanced, please try what happens next: https://whathappensnext.webcomic.ws/ It has nothing to do with Harry potter, but It deals with the ethics of true crime, fascination with murder, fandoms, justice, sex, the possibility to change after doing horrendous things... To me, if you write about the villains in that way, you're analyzing their deeds, not condoning them As for the "not fleshed out "part: you are correct, they are basically NPCs for the most part. But that gives you more freedom too!

maybe im being dramatic but i feel like the huge influx of the fandom being obsessed with the death eater characters when there are characters from the order RIGHT THERE that are more compelling and fleshed-out and interesting kinda screams bigot to me?

like what do you mean you’re obsessed with people who tortured and killed others for thinking wizards of all blood-origins deserve rights? and that you’re shipping them with each other and romanticizing them and trying to defend their actions?

like who you like but i’m gonna be silently judging in the corner and nobody can stop me.

[youngroyals-stuff]

[steve-s-slut]

They can't keep getting away with this

[greenerteacups]

What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭

So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.

With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.

Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.

But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.

[altruistic-meme]

i can't speak on being a "good" commenter because that really depends on what you consider "good" to be, and honestly for most writers ANY commenter that isn't unasked for criticism or hate is a good commenter.

BUT as for being a consistent commenter, I have been working on that myself recently and this is my method: have a prepared response. it may seem like it's unoriginal or silly to have a copy-paste comment, but it's actually super helpful.

that's because for me, my biggest issue with not commenting as often as I wanted to was that I often wouldn't have the energy to put in any thought AT ALL behind it and that made me feel bad because if I had enough energy to read the fic, I SHOULD have enough energy to at Ieast say WHY I finished, right? so I would end up holding on to fics that I had finished with the intent to return to them when I DID have energy and leave a comment. except it never worked like that, and i ended up losing the fics without ever commenting.

the counter? "🖤🖤" thats it. every time I reach the end of a fic I enjoyed, i told myself that all I had to do was add those two hearts. sometimes I'll get there and realize that I want to mention something else as well, or that i want to just make a silly comment like "oh my heart!" or "poor [x]!" but those hearts are VITAL because even if i CANT think of anything else to add, I've still got a whole comment right there, ready to go, and I won't feel bad about having nothing to comment.

and believe me, there is NOTHING wrong with just having a really simple comment like an emoji or two, or just saying "loved it" or whatever! those comments STILL MEAN SOMETHING TO THE AUTHOR! it's engagement that they asked for when they posted their story, it's proof that people put there like their writing, and its just nice to get even the easy and simple comments.

and if you feel brave, you can expand on yours more! mine is just 2 emojis, but you can take "loved this fic" and turn it into "loved [ ]" and fill in that blank with anything from that fic. "loved how you wrote this scene" "loved when this character said that" "loved this line" "loved that i felt this emotion" etc etc etc. the point is to have a base that you can then build on when you have the mind/energy to! if you're low energy, just leave it at "loved this fic/chapter" and when you have more to say, you can add on then!

I hope this makes sense and helps anyone out there! fandom relies on participation from all parties, and im happy that you are asking about how to do that yourself!

It’s more of a fic reader confession- I feel like a failure. Everyone in this fandom is so good and consistent at making comments on fics. I see the same people commenting on every chapter in many stories. I comment but not nearly enough as I would like. What is the secret to being a good commenter or at least consistent one, because our authors deserve all the praise!

📖

[its-cosmerely-an-obsesh-wound]

A Promise Full Filled

Below is an excerpt from my most recent fic:

***CONTAINS WIND AND TRUTH SPOILERS***

It had actually happened. Kaladin wasn't sure if any warping of reality on his part had occurred but Dalinar had done what he had needed to do and the three of them had survived until the end. They had all suffered terrible losses but, tonight, they were choosing to ignore all that because they were fulfilling a promise they had made to one another. At the end. Drinks. Jokes. Laughter.

Currently, the laughter was at Kaladin’s expense. Shallan and Adolin had managed to wheedle out of him the particulars regarding what Szeth had mentioned. Szeth had made astounding progress on their trip to Shinovar, so much so that he and Kaladin had laughed easily and often by the end and Szeth had surprised both Shallan and Adolin by interacting with them comfortably when they had returned. Perhaps a little too comfortably. To Kaladin’s chagrin, Szeth had told them that Kaladin had been unable to best the Shin architecture. Szeth had refused to elaborate further and Kaladin had had also refused to give a full account at the time, citing a need to see his family. But, today, there was no diverting them so Kaladin had to explain in painstaking detail, while Shallan howled with laughter, what Szeth had meant.

“The Shin are much shorter people than the Alethi so there were a lot of doorframes, cultivated trees, and even ceilings that would not accommodate the stature of a normal-sized person—"

“An Alethi giant you mean.” Shallan corrected, as she craned her neck in an unnecessarily exaggerated manner to eye him pointedly.

“Fine. Someone of normal Alethi height.” Kaladin conceded.

“You’re tall, even for an Alethi, Kal.” Adolin asserted, appraising him with a slight smile and a lingering look that had Kaladin feeling...on edge. He was not that tall. For an Alethi. He was only a few inches taller than Adolin. 

“So what did you do?" Shallan asked, her eyes glittering expectantly. "Try to punch and stab your way through doorways or…” 

He wished that were the truth.

“No, um, many times I didn’t notice until—"

“Stormfather! You walked into everything, didn’t you?” She asked with excited incredulity.

Kaladin pressed his lips to a line. He had not walked into everything. But she was right, it had happened. And more than he would have liked. She seemed to guess her aspersion was at least partially correct and he could see the joy in her expression ramping up as he replied.

“Well not everything but there were a few times I—"

Kaladin didn’t get to finish, Shallan erupted with a shrill scream of unbridled glee and Adolin’s barking laugh split the air next to him seconds later. 

Sure, Kaladin felt a little embarrassed about how many inanimate objects his face had unexpectedly encountered but he had promised, drinks, jokes, laughter, and he was certainly delivering on the last part. Kaladin found himself chuckling too, after a fashion, but Shallan was definitely the most affected. It took several moments before Shallan wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and rested her hand lightly on his as her raucous sounds of merriment became a subdued giggle.

Kaladin’s laughter became uneasy and died as he processed several disturbing things at once: the hand Shallan had placed on his was her clothed safehand, the topic of conversation had changed to a distressing one, and the seating arrangement was...disquieting and too close. In short, somehow he had gotten trapped between Shallan and Adolin while they argued about Kaladin's farewell hugs all the while Shallan touched him in an arrestingly inappropriate and intimate manner. In the middle of a very public tavern.

How had this happened? He thought back. Kaladin had been sitting in the middle since they had arrived but he hadn’t given the arrangement much thought since they had started the evening a respectful distance apart from one another and they had been discussing a suitable topic: the strange Shinovarian flora and fauna. Shallan had shown a keen interest and Kaladin, grateful for the distraction from all the needling about Shin architecture, had seized the topic like a pouch of stormlight during an Everstorm. Kaladin had explained how lazy the grass had been, laying about and getting trampled all the time; how there had been these delightful happy animals called ‘dogs’ that acted like axehounds but were soft and squishy with no carapace or mandibles and enjoyed probing your backside with their noses; and how some animals Szeth had called ‘goats’ had been able to Surgebind—Szeth had insisted they did not Surgebind but there was simply no other rational explanation for how they scaled sheer cliffs like that, Kaladin had seen them at it with his own eyes—they had to be using adhesion or gravitation. Szeth was mistaken. Unfortunately, mentioning Szeth had reminded them about the storming architecture again but even those laughs at his expense had been better than this.

“You got two hugs.” Adolin insisted to Shallan.

“I had to initiate the first one though and Kaladin suffered it like a chull bound in a heavy stormwagon yolk. The one he initiated was much shorter than the hug he gave you.”

Somehow as the conversation and alcohol had flowed, the distance between them had shrunk to almost nothing, such that Shallan’s and Adolin’s present and disconcerting tete-a-tete was taking place practically on top of Kaladin. Kaladin was immensely uncomfortable. Why did the hugs he gave them matter and why were they chatting about it with no space for Honor between the three of them? Kaladin was finding it harder and harder to follow the exchange because he was becoming increasingly aware of their proximity to him in several would-be innocuous ways...

Here's a link to the rest of it, if you want to keep reading. Please take care, it is rated EXPLICIT because I cannot keep my hands off the smut when it comes to these three...or in general. You know that part in A Bugs Life with the mosquitoes?

Mosquito 1: Harry, no! Don't look at the light!

Harry: *entranced* I-can't-help-it. It's-so-beautiful. *Harry gets zapped and DIES*

Harry is basically me with smut...wait, there's a When Harry Met Sally reference here...if you want to have what she's having you might like my writing 😂 You've probably heard of a gutter ball. *Jumps up and down* Oh, yes, bowling! I've heard of that! Well, I have a gutter brain. There are balls involved in my gutter brain and many other euphemistic sports accoutrements that I could mention. But I won't. No one wants that. In fact, no one wanted this paragraph at the end, not even me, but I typed it already so...pipe down, I got the conch and... *does best Leonidas impression* THIS—IS—TUMBLR!

(RIP Piggy, sorry about your ass-mar and brutal murder—Roger was a right Piero Manzoni piece of work)

Well, that stream of consciousness was a trip to read in the stark light of day. Someone should take away my keyboard. Alright, shutting the fuck up now...

PS: See, I did mean what I said

[baishouqijia]

don't ask me where i've been cause i have no answer :y

[iristial]

First this specific news article title implying I don't have handsome men to swoon over if there's no suited-up bugmen or pretty monster suits in sight, and now the Zero One erasure lol

[i-wiggle-i-squirm-bc-i-am-a-worm]

Unnecessary discussion about Chat Noir and the Drums

There’s something I love so much about Chat playing the drums in Horrificator. This is something that’s been on my mind since I was 13, so hold on here.

First, obviously, Adrien also plays the piano - which obviously still has a lot of meaning!! - I’m not here to diss on the piano, there’s a lot of freedom of expression in every instrument type and music expression in general, but there’s a reason why some people are more inclined to different instruments, and I think there’s a lot more to it than just sound, but feeling as well. The role you play. How it feels to play it alone vs. playing it with others, if it’s typically something that you can play alone vs. in a group.

So first, the piano, and how I think it relates to Adrien’s character, plus how it relates to those points.

The piano, let’s be real, is something that a lot of us were forced to take lessons for at some point. It’s something that has ties to high society (there’s a HUGE discussion and so much more to say about that, but let’s not go there) and honestly?? I think it works pretty well with symbolizing the obsession with perfection that Gabriel shoves onto him. I’ve known many piano players, and while some genuinely loved playing it, it was always easier to somehow stumble onto someone with a deep hatred for it after being forced into lessons. Whenever I asked them why they hated it, I got almost the same answer every time: “I need to be perfect.” (Along with people saying that they were forced to lol)

Then there’s the role you play. You can play with people in a band, an orchestra, as an accompanist, a duet, at a bar with a bunch of people singing - whatever - music has many forms, and many different connections. But the piano is something you can play solo, no need for anyone else. It isn’t what you can do with other people that I’m focusing on for this, it’s the fact that you don’t need anyone. You can play alone, and it’ll still be fine. You can be alone, and you’re still fine - perfect even - which is something that Gabriel shoves down his throat, resistant to him playing with his friends by touching on this ideology.

Which is a glimpse into how he sees Adrien, and how Adrien experiences life. He can be alone, in fact he’s more perfect when he’s alone. And when other people are added, the attention to his perfection is taken away bit by bit, until he’s not good enough. He has to play solo in concert halls, on stage for everyone to watch, not in the back of a bar, playing with his friends.

Alright, so now we move to Chat Noir and the drums. The main play of this fake essay. 

It would be so easy to just ignore everything and just go “haha, he’s the energetic one, so ofc Ladybug gave him the drums! And they’re an easy instrument to play, etc.” but that’s far from the truth.

Ok, so I’m not a drum player or percussionist in any way, but I am a bass player, and genuinely love the drums so much because they’re incredibly important, and here’s my cheesy analogy: the drums are the heart of the band, keeping everyone on beat, it’s what you feel at the centre of it all. The band is nothing without the drums, without the percussion (The bass is what connects the band to the beat of the drums, kinda like the blood vessels, but sadly this ain’t about bass).  Like do you know how easy it is for a band to fall apart if they don’t have a drummer??? You need a drummer. You literally can’t survive without a drummer, because even if you manage to work together, use the bass as a backing, whatever you try, there’s still not much of a heart left.

But besides that, do you know how hard it is to play the drums??? You can’t just throw someone crazy, or energetic there just because “crazy drummers lol” you need someone who listens. Who can set the beat. Someone you can rely on, because they are the person in control, even if they aren’t as flashy as the guitar player. Reliable is the word that comes to mind. The drums can make or break a band.

And wanna know who that reminds me of?

Yeah. I highly doubt that the writers put this much thought into a random five second scene in an episode of season one, but it fits with Chat Noir SO well. 

Unlike the piano, the drums are almost solely played in a group setting - you need other people, and other people need you - he needs other people in his life, his friends are needed, but they also need him. Ladybug needs him, along with all the other heroes in Paris, whether he sees it or not. He seems to get in a state of thinking he’s not needed, but i do really think he’s the emotional glue that keeps the team connected, the heart that keeps them beating. If he’s isolated, he can’t quite reach his full potential that he can when he’s allowed to be around others, just like they can’t reach their own without him.

But on top of that, I think the stereotypes of the drums actually works in his favour for the next part. 

Breaking free from his dad, and being his own person, letting that fame go and embracing what he wants... well, to some that would look stupid. 

Relating it to music, the piano is flashy, you can play it solo, it sounds impressive, looks impressive, and people won’t think you’re just hitting pots and pans in the garage when you say you play it. But the drums are underestimated, a lot of people think you don’t need much practice, that they’re just the guys who sit at the back of the stage, not doing much, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Just like Adrien finally being who he wants wouldn’t be stupid, it could never be stupid, but there’s a stigma. But letting go of his flashy, solo life, and being the heart of his friend group is something that I think makes him truly happy as Chat Noir, and hopefully he gets to be like that as Adrien too.

Like Plagg said, Chat Noir and Adrien are both the real him, and I think the drums capture that perfectly. The heart and freedom, the meticulousness (rather than perfection) and steadiness, those are good qualities of a drummer.

I dunno, I just think it fits.

(sdfghjklkjhgf again I should state that acoustic versions of songs exist, and you can play songs without a drum and it sounds fantastic, but I’m not going into that today. Just talking generalization, and playing in a group setting). 

[decisions-at-3am]

You'll find me on a stormy night, With you and a drink by my side. Watching the lightning's jagged plight. It's a picturesque view of life.

I steal glances by lamplight, Drawn to your softened features. I fear my gaze may have lingered, As you turn to meet my eyes.

Reaching, you catch me by surprise. To press kisses down my jaw. Wine dark stains, remnants of your vice. Your whispers leave me wanting more.

[battle-subway-ghost]

Also if you're wondering how the hell I'm digging up 10 year old posts from old facebook groups that never got any attention: I'm not very normal about investigating things like this.

[rainofcolours]

blue, white and brown (1980 words)

[ (2/? hierarchy of collapse) | Kaijou/Puppyshipping | @hurtcember 2024 Day 2: Breakdown ]

Summary: Now that he and Seto have parted ways less than amicably, Katsuya is left with the ghosts of blue, white and brown. (Myst's usual brand of hurt-no-comfort Kaijou; potential triggers in ao3)

Click below for a few preview paragraphs!

“Go ta hell, Seto Kaiba!”

The cacophonous banging of erratic fists on wood exhausted.

Katsuya hung his head in the gallows of his wrists; each uneven rasp he drew stilted by the weight of iron buried somewhere in the grave of his chest. With every surge of his veins, he felt the sear of pain burrow deeper into his left eye, coating his vision in a miasma of grey. Was it the void of solitude or the taint of his resentment that filled the darkness he was seated within?

He rolled his neck, imprints of his rage still reverberating in his ears. The cold metal of the chair an uncomfortable anchor for his limp body, limbs distending until they grazed the floor as he gave in to the weight of his own gravity. There, Katsuya sat, unmoving – his inner hurricane encased in the vacuum of Domino’s midnight; dim eyes, unfocussed, at the far wall – wondering if it was the absence of light or his own delusion that made the edges undulate and distort.

How did we end up like this?

The darkness was a kind tormentor: Within its negative space breathed that which was coveted; what the heart wanted, the darkness granted. Ideals and caricatures alike strung to life by determined longing, dancing in the wisps of suggestions in your mind’s shadow. Its stage was built upon your projections – helping shed your armour, creating the suggestion of safety, and catching when your knees buckled in confession; so it could coax inspiration from the deepest alcoves where you thought amnesia had long put what you held most precious to rest. 

(Read the rest of the fic here!)

[sammy8d257]

The First Meeting - AvA Mafia AU!

An AvA Mafia AU! Oneshot

AU created by @sammy8d257 and @k1ttyadventurer

Written by Sammy8D

Word Count: 2185

Characters: Chosen (He/Him), Yellow (They/Them), Dark (He/They), Second (Any Pronouns), Green (He/They), Red (He/Him), Blue (They/She/He), Victim (Any Pronouns)

CWs: Blackmail, Mentions of violence

Summary: When Noogai passed down the family business to him, Chosen knew it would be tough, he knew there would be surprises. Hell, they’ve already had their fair share of them when the supposed “first victim” of the gang’s dealings, turned out to be more useful alive than dead. Now that stick figure, affectionately nicknamed, “Victim”, was one of the most valuable members of the "Noogai Family". And yet, despite that, despite Chosen’s willingness to adapt to anything, despite Chosen literally being created to fulfill this role, he was not prepared to deal with these four very persistent stick figures.

[ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: May, 2021]

<= v =>

Chosen pinched the bridge of his forehead. When Noogai passed down the family business to him, Chosen knew it would be tough, he knew there would be surprises. Hell, they’ve already had their fair share of them when the supposed “first victim” of the gang’s dealings, turned out to be more useful alive than dead. Now that stick figure, affectionately nicknamed, “Victim”, was one of the most valuable members of the Family. And yet, despite that, despite Chosen’s willingness to adapt to anything, despite Chosen literally being created to fulfill this role, he was not prepared for the situation that sat in front of him. 

So here he sits, in one of the many backrooms of the quaint little restaurant young Second hosts as a front for the group's more, illicit activities. The orange stick figure had come to him in a panicked state, trying their best to recount their run-in with one particular persuasive fellow with a laptop filled with documents that should never see the light of day. Through the rushed and jumbled words, Chosen got the jist of what had transpired and more importantly, what needed to be done. That was why four brightly colored stick figures were seated across from him, looking for a chance at something that Chosen wasn't sure he was ready to give. 

“Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t just let Dark here dispose of you.” 

As Chosen spoke those words, the bright red stick figure standing to his right side cracked his knuckles. Judging by the reactions from the group, there was no doubt that upon Dark’s face was his signature smile, the wide grin filled with sharp teeth and malicious intent. Chosen’s eyes slowly scanned across the stick figures before him. 

Seated furthest to the right was a light blue stick figure clothed in a loose dark blue jacket. A small bottle of an unknown substance hung by a silver chain around their neck. Despite the more relaxed and aloof attitude Chosen had observed when the four first arrived, he could see how sharp the blue one’s eyes were, seemingly categorizing everything within their surroundings. To the left of them sat a red stick figure, a slightly darker shade of red than his Right Hand Man, Chosen noted. He was the fighter of the group if the hand wraps along his knuckles and wrists were anything to go by. Right now, he was cracking his neck and eyeing up Dark in anticipation. There were no doubts that the stick figure was deciding whether he could square up to the infamous Dark Lord of the Noogai Family. The green stick figure next to him was reacting similarly, albeit in a much more subtle manner. Chosen watched as the green one carefully reached into his dark green vest only for a grimace to appear on his face. The stick figure was probably reaching for the gun that he gave up as both a show of respect toward the head of the gang and a sign of peace between the two parties. Chosen was rather surprised at the weaponry the green stick figure was carrying. The pistol was a pretty little number with an engraving upon its handle that he was positive couldn’t have been bought in any public stores. And lastly there was-

“I know for a fact you won’t.”

And lastly there was the source of Chosen’s current headache, the stick figure whom Second had informed him, was simply named Yellow. The most confident out of all of the stick figures in front of him, Yellow sat high in their seat with a self-assured smile upon their face. A pair of dusty yellow headphones hung loosely from the stick figure’s neck while they adjusted the glasses that sat on their face. Chosen took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, bringing his hands to rest in front of him. 

“And why might that be?” Chosen asked. Yellow leaned back in their seat and lifted one hand in the air. 

“Well, I have a timer set to release all the information I gathered on your little group out onto the internet.You’ll be ruined within minutes and only I know how to stop it.” 

“Yeah right, I cou-” Dark was interrupted as Yellow leveled their stare at him. 

“I cracked through your defenses in under 5 hours. If you so much as breathe incorrectly on the code I created, it’ll automatically release every single dirty detail the Noogai Family has been hiding. But if you’re willing to risk that, fine, go ahead and try to kill us.”

Dark snarled at the challenge. It was no secret that despite being Chosen’s Right Hand and also one of the best fighters, Dark also prided himself on being a damn good coder as well. To see his work be so quickly broken through by someone as young and as smug as Yellow, must have infuriated Dark to no end. Chosen sighed and gestured for Dark to stand down. 

Meeting the yellow stick figure’s gaze, Chosen spoke in a hard voice, “Okay, you have my attention. What is it exactly that you want from us?”

“Well! As your orange friend here may have told you, me and my buddies are looking to join your group!” Yellow said with a grin so big it nearly split their face. The other 3 nodded in agreement. With furrowed brows, Chosen let out another sigh. Right, Second had told him that this group was looking to join the gang. It wasn’t that Chosen was adverse to gaining new members, rather the opposite actually. The big boss knew that in order to gain more power in the Interspace, their gang would have to have more members than just the original four. But still, he never expected this would be how they would grow. Chosen always assumed people with prior connections to the Family would join in first, though that certainly wasn’t the case now.

“Let’s say we are looking for new members.” Chosen tilted his head to the side. “What can you bring to this group?” 

The grin on Yellow’s face seemed to get even wider. “I’m so glad you asked sir.”

Yellow placed a hand on their chest. “You’ve already seen a bit of what I can do. But basically, I can be your go-to guy for anything code related. I can get you any encrypted information you need. I’m a bit of a master hacker if you will.” 

Dark scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Green here is our weapons specialist. He’s versed in multiple types of weaponry. Whether it be a gun or a bo staff, he’ll be able to wield them all.” 

“I’m gonna need my gun back by the way,” Green said with a cocked brow. “It wasn’t easy to get and I’d appreciate it if I didn’t lose it so soon.” 

“Don’t worry,” Second spoke up for the first time since the four had arrived. “I’ll make sure to get it back to you.” Green jumped at the sudden intrusion and jerked his head towards the corner where Second was standing. The orange stick figure sent him a small wave and Green nodded once in appreciation. 

Yellow continued, “And if weapons aren’t you thing, we have our very own close combat specialist. Meet Red! He’s the powerhouse of the bunch and knows all about hand-to-hand fighting.”

Red beamed at both Yellow and Chosen at the praise. “Yeah, I’m pretty good at fighting.” Chosen nodded along with Yellow’s explanation, happy that his earlier suspicions were confirmed. 

“And lastly,” Yellow gestured to the furthest stick figure from them. “We have Blue. Don't let their quiet demeanor fool you, Blue has a mastery over poisons and knows more about the sneaking than anyone I know. If you need to take out someone quietly, Blue's definitely the one for the job." 

The stick figure in question gave Chosen a mock salute, a calm smile on their face. From the other corner, Chosen watched as Victim nodded at him, no doubt interested in the more stealthy aspects of this stick figure's skill set.

Chosen hummed, interlocking his fingers in front of his face. These four definitely had skills that could be beneficial to the Family. Especially if Red, Green, and Blue were as skilled in their areas of expertise as Yellow. They were good. Almost too good. Chosen's contemplative look turned accusatory as he leveled gaze across the group.

"What are you hoping to get out of this? From what you've told me and from what you've shown, you four seem very qualified for positions within the group." Chosen's voice was cold. "I'm finding it very hard to believe a couple of highly skilled individuals like yourselves aren't already part of another gang.” 

“So I’m going to ask you again,” The skin of Chosen’s palms glowed a dangerous red. “What are you hoping to get out of this?”

There was silence for a moment, only the hum of the ventilation filling the dead air. The four stick figures in front of him were deep in some sort of non-verbal communication, simply consulting with one another through nods and stares. In the back of Chosen’s mind, he wondered how close they were to each other that allowed them to do that. Finally, the group seemed to come to a conclusion and Yellow spoke up once more.

“You may not believe us, but we aren’t part of any other group. You guys were actually our first choice when we all decided to look into this type of business.” Yellow gestured an arm out to the rest of the sticks. “The four of us are from a web-based sticks fighting game. We were literally built to fight but after years of doing the same thing over and over again... Well, we got really bored. And then with all the extra time we had, we each decided to master skills that interested us.” 

Yellow placed a hand on their chest, their tone taking a more sincere note. “I’ve researched hundreds of other groups beforehand. Although you guys are newer and still very small, we all agreed that the way you run your business aligns the best with our group's own beliefs. You guys still do illegal things, but,” they paused to readjust their glasses. “The Noogai Family is still the best option in comparison to almost everyone else. And because of that, we’re willing to dedicate ourselves to this Family.”

The rest of the sticks nodded in agreement. Yellow themself, sunk back into their chair, seemingly winded from their speech. Bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead, Chosen also leaned back into his seat with a sigh. The silence returned once again. After a few minutes, he spoke,

“Okay. Against my better judgment, you’ve convinced me.”

There was a pause before the room erupted into cheer. Dark’s indignant shout of “WHAT-” was drowned out by the ecstatic celebration of Red, Yellow, Green and Blue. Rounds of high-fives were being given to each other along with excited hand flapping. Not wanting the celebration to get too out of hand, Chosen signaled for the four to quiet down. 

“Don’t go celebrating yet. You four have exactly one week to prove your loyalty and that you can be a reliable asset to this group. Second.” Second perked their head up at the sound of their name. “I want you to escort these fellows to a separate room and go over the rules. Also make sure to gather any necessary information from them.”

“Of course,” Second said softly. Turning towards the group, they motioned them to follow their lead. “Right this way guys.”

All four of the stick figures stood up excitedly before bowing towards Chosen.

“You won’t regret this boss!” The grin was back on Yellow’s face. Chosen sent a look toward Victim and with a nod, the dark gray stick figure followed the group out the door, shutting it softly as they went. 

And then, there was silence again. 

Chosen let out a sigh. Standing up he placed a calming hand upon a fuming Dark’s shoulder. 

“With all due respect,” Dark said through gritted teeth. “What were you THINKING letting these… these fools into OUR Family?”

“They seem very capable. I thought very hard on my decision and for now, I’m confident in it. Just trust me on this alright?” Chosen gave Dark’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Besides, we need to start growing. We won’t get anywhere if our group just stays the four of us.”

Dark snarled and shrugged Chosen’s hand off his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Chosen One.” And with that, the pissed off stick figure stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Chosen slumped back down into his seat. Closing his eyes, Chosen allowed himself to relax ever so slightly. Noogai said this wouldn’t be easy but Chosen wished he was also told just how hard it was going to be. Regardless of the outcome, he could feel that this would be a new chapter in the history of the Noogai Family.

[whattraintracks]

A BUFFY STAN?? BRO THATS SO REAL !!

(im pumpkinpie59 btw fjdkdkd)

Heck yeah, I'm a Buffy stan!! I loved "Poor Little Rich Turtle" because I loved her. Absolute crime we didn't get more of her. I am constantly haunted by the fact that I must create the content with her that I want to see. So thank you for your adorable art!!

[sunlightdrop]

Have you ever been to a Disney Park, and if so did you interract with the Tangled characters?

ahh, yes, i have !! only once !! i've been to tokyo disney sea !! i went in october with my love <33 i didn't interact with any tangled characters (there were actually no face characters around at all, but they are usually in tokyo disneyland as opposed to sea !!) but i did get to go on the rapunzel's lantern festival ride :D !! it was a dream come true for me 😭😭

going to a disney park has been such a huge dream of mine since i was a little girl... but i didn't grow up in america or any country that had one. it was so incredibly special and dear to me that my first disney trip was to the park that had an entire rapunzel area !!

we had lunch at the snuggly duckling there as well. i dressed up as rapunzel and brought home tons of goodies !! every time i remember the day i spent there, i kind of want to cry. i made a page on my homescreen of my phone dedicated to the pics i took there, just to look at when i'm feeling down ;w;

i actually posted some of the pics i took from my trip here !!

we are planning to go again -- i'm currently saving to do another trip. we loved japan a lot and want to take another vacation around the country, but this time we are planning more disney days !! for our first trip we wanted most of the days to be dedicated to exploring a new country and enjoying the culture <3 so next time we'll go to disneyland, too !!