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#it's a minor detail most wouldn't notice anyway
someiicecube · 2 months
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I still meant what I said in that reply to the height chart though, lmao
It might be 3am here, but the thought of the player being able to choose their height in game for added flavored dialogue has been in my noggin since last year.
It won't change too much of the dialogue, but it's just enough to make the experience feel a bit more personalized.
Imagine being an extremely short MC that has to break their neck every time they have to meet Kuras' gaze. Imagine the look Mhin gives you if you dare call them short.
Imagine being a tall MC peering over people's heads, and most importantly, being so close in height with Ais provides you the best look into his eyes when you're hiding in a shady alley together.
Oh, but imagine being average height in that scene and choosing to look forward only presents you with a wall of man tiddies.
Not to mention that one Mhin scene where they pin you against the wall and, despite their small stature, manage to lift you off your feet by the collar? Like, okay? How would they, 168cm, do that with a theoretical 187cm MC? Hm?
Like, I need me that—
"Their fist curled, white knuckled into the front of your clothing."
if player_height == very_short or short or average:
"And with surprising strength, they lift you off your feet and against the wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs."
elif player_height == tall or very tall:
"And with surprising strength, they shove you against the wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs."
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juletheghoul · 21 days
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Grown
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AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)
Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.9K
Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)
Let me know if I missed anything!
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist 
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He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.
He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too. 
“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown. 
“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features. 
“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?” 
“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it. 
“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.
“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating. 
“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view. 
It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it. 
“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.
Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out. 
Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate. 
Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing. 
“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand. 
“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over. 
His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit. 
“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him. 
“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.
“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.
It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms. 
“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness. 
He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs. 
“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this. 
“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap. 
“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly. 
“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.
“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes. 
A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.
“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you. 
Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up. 
He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance. 
“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”
You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly. 
“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck. 
“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit. 
“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time. 
There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him. 
He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.
He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward. 
This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it. 
“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.
“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic. 
“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes. 
“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you. 
It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity. 
“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you. 
“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands. 
It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was. 
“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”
“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up. 
“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels. 
“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass. 
“Bye, Pretty.”
“Bye Joel.”
-
You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it. 
At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it. 
An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come. 
Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away. 
It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic. 
After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front. 
The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men. 
It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.
-
His hands always shake before it starts. 
It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. 
He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back. 
“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.
“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it. 
It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps. 
“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs. 
“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.
“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.
“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly. 
All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him. 
“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.
He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them. 
“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent. 
“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety. 
His body always betrays him. 
He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way. 
“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you. 
His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath. 
His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise. 
“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway. 
“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face. 
“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you. 
You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.
“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly. 
He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.
You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body. 
You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come. 
“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face. 
“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now. 
“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm. 
He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it. 
Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self. 
“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches. 
“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback. 
“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.
“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 
“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest. 
“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze. 
“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone. 
Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time. 
-
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samiiy20 · 9 months
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♡ 𝐨𝐭𝟖 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞) ♡
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𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: ot8 x reader 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: Fluff 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 1.8k 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: none 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: they confess that they like you
𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 II tag list
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This content NOT is for minors!!!
This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.
It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.
English NO is my first language.
Han Jisung
He had practiced it so many times, but every time he saw you and told himself that it was time, the words got stuck in his throat, so he just hid it as best he could, at least until that night.
"I don't want to"
“Come on, it's just a silly game,” you begged, stretching out his arm and pouting. “It's not like you're hiding something, is it?”
“Of course not,” he said nervously, letting yourself be carried by you to the center of the circle where everyone was. Anyway he could lie and no one would notice.
Time passed between drinks, laughter, truths and dares, but Han was increasingly nervous knowing that his turn was approaching.
“truth or dare?” You thought for a moment, you weren't afraid of something coming to light, but you preferred that no one knew your secrets.
"Dare"
“Kiss the most attractive person in the circle” You stuck your tongue out at Hyunjin while everyone was making a fuss. It didn't matter who was inside, you knew who you would kiss.
Han became tense next to you as he listened to his friend and could only watch as you watched the others in the circle while you thought, he couldn't help but think of you kissing someone else and he felt a pang in his chest, even so he stayed. still while I saw how you smiled.
He closed his eyes so that his heart wouldn't break, but when he felt lips close to his he couldn't help but open his eyes. The boys' screams became distorted as his head spun.
"I like you"
He closed his mouth again when he realized what he had just said, but the smile on your face only made him feel more nervous. You placed your hand on his cheek.
“I know” you confessed, in reality you suspected it but his words only made you let yourself be carried away by the unbridled beating of your heart.
You approached his lips again and Han let himself be carried away by the softness of your mouth and couldn't resist putting his hands on your neck to deepen the kiss, but you moved away "I like you too" you stood up, holding out your hand to him "game changer" ” you announced as you dragged him to one of the empty rooms while the boys were still celebrating.
Lee Felix:
Felix couldn't continue hiding it any longer, he had to get the load out of his chest before it exploded, but he was afraid of your response.
He had known you for a while and he couldn't help but fall in love with you, with your sweet voice and that shy smile you gave him when their eyes met, your delicate hands and the way you told him things, you were perfect, but he knew you secret.
You were unsure about accepting his invitation because you noticed he was more serious than normal and the way his eyes were hiding something made you nervous, but you still accepted because you were curious.
When you arrived at the place Felix was already waiting for you and you saw him freeze for a moment before reacting.
"Do I have something on my face?"
“No, it's just… you look good”
You blushed and clenched your fists as they entered the place but this time it was your turn to freeze when you noticed the details in the room. It was all very romantic, with the path of candles on the floor to the blanket with things and you also noticed the small bouquet that was there.
"Everything is alright?"
"What is all this?" You asked nervously, fearing his answer.
Felix took a breath before throwing himself into the void, hoping that someone would hold him and that someone would be you.
“I thought it was too obvious, but… I like you”
You remained silent for a long moment while you analyzed his words. The time with Felix was like a hug to your broken heart but you didn't know if you were ready to try something after your recent breakup.
Felix waited and waited in silence while he tortured himself wondering if it was the best thing to risk his relationship.
“Please don't make it difficult for me, say something,” he begged with his heart in his hand and tears welling up in his eyes.
“I…” you sighed because you knew you liked him too but you were afraid to risk everything, even so you saw the effort he made to do it “I like you too.”
Felix sighed in relief and let go of all his frustrations as he touched his chest and calmed his heart, he extended his hand to you and you held it tightly.
“I promise to make you very happy”
Kim Seungmin:
It was obvious, you didn't need words to say what you felt for each other, but from time to time you wanted him to admit it, even so you had a little fun pulling and loosening that invisible rope that was between you.
That day was no exception, they were in the kitchen trying to prepare something while their jokes were taking place. A delicate touch here, their bodies closer than they should, the intense glances between the long silences, everything was normal, but you were starting to get desperate.
“Seugmin, do you like me?”
Your question caught him off guard and he turned to look at you for a moment before laughing nervously and returning to where he was.
"what are you saying? you? like me?”
His laughter sounded intensely in your head and you couldn't help but think if everything that had happened between you was your imagination, you fought to hold back the tears and threw the cloth on his back to make him see you again.
"Then, what are we?"
“I…” he stayed still while he thought about what to say to you, he was afraid to admit what everyone knew but he didn't want to lose you either “you… well, we're friends, right?”
“And we will be friends for life?”
"Why not?"
You turned around angry and picked up your things trying to wipe away the first tear you shed.
“You are an idiot, you don't realize that I like you?” You yelled at him when you saw him try to stop you, but your words left him frozen as he watched you leave. He sighed, taking in what had just happened and thought that maybe he was an idiot.
“Wait” you walked faster when you heard him behind you but he went faster and wrapped his arms around your body “I like you too okay? But I was so afraid to tell you because I thought…"
You turned before he continued speaking and stole a kiss from him that he returned holding your hands so you wouldn't leave again. His heart raced and when he pulled away you laughed a little when you saw his blushing cheeks.
"Say it again"
“I like you,” he said, looking at you with a special shine in his eyes. “I like you a lot and I don't want to lose you, darling.” The new nickname made you shudder.
“Let's go back before the food burns” They left holding hands smiling for having started a new beginning.
Yang Jeongin:
You greeted everyone when you arrived, but you ran to hug Jeongin when he saw him, he took you by the waist smiling and you gave him a kiss on the cheek as usual.
"You're late"
“I know” you separated a little, apologizing to the boys for the delay before getting in the car to go to the party that night “I'm so excited, do you think he'll be there?”
You felt an awkward silence in the car but you ignored it, holding Jeongin's arm when he gave you a kind smile.
"Maybe"
“I got all pretty for him, I hope he looks at me again” you said trying to see your friend's reaction, but he just smiled and nodded making you feel a pang.
The only person you had become cute for was him, you always did it since you realized you liked him and you tried a thousand ways to make him jealous, but he only smiled and encouraged you to flirt with someone else, it was so frustrating to have You had to pretend that you liked someone other than him.
“Sure, you're very pretty” even though his words made you nervous, you leaned your head on his shoulder and pretended to seek some advice while secretly enjoying his company.
When you arrived at the party you didn't leave Jeongin's side until he pointed out who you pretended to have looked for and with a fake smile you ran to the other man hoping that your friend would go after you, but he didn't.
You were bored with the conversation and you excused yourself by going to look for something to drink and pass the bitter pill when you saw Jeongin talking to a girl.
“Are you having fun?” You were surprised to hear Hyunjin and You smiled, nodding, “or did your friend abandon you?”
“I left him, in reality he is very boring”
“Please, you kept bragging in the car that you wanted to go to bed with him.”
You stayed silent not knowing what to say to defend me but you raised your shoulders nervously pretending that you didn't care.
“Some go, others come, what does it matter to you?”
“Stop playing with Jeongin” you almost spit out the drink when you noticed the resentment in his voice without knowing why.
"What are you taking about?"
“Ahhh you're pathetic, don't pretend you don't know.”
"I do not know what you mean"
“He's in love with you but he wants to seem calm and normal because he knows you don't like him, he's starting to tire me out…” You didn't pay attention to everything else when you tried to process that information, was he lying? Or was he just very out of sorts and saying whatever?
You watched Jeongin get lost among the people holding hands with that girl and leaving Hyunjin you ran away, if he didn't go for you would go to him.
When you finally reached him he was so surprised that he let go of the other girl.
“What are you doing here…”
"I like you too"
“what?”
“That you… I like you” His eyes met for a moment and Jeongin touched his chest smiling.
"really?"
“Yes,” you confessed, cupping his face as you approached him and brought your foreheads together, “I was pretending that I liked someone else to make you jealous, but…”
“I waited so long for this,” he interrupted you when he put his lips together while Hyunjin watched the scene from afar and smiled, satisfied with having done something good for you.
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chiffon-and-spice · 1 year
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Silly Little Fantasy (Carlos Oliveira x Reader) 18+
Carlos x Fem!Reader 18+ MINORS DNI
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Concept- Carlos was dreaming again... dreaming of you. And he didn't know what to do with himself. You hadn't known each other very long, hell he didn't even know your name. All he knew was that you were driving him crazy. 
Content- NSFW 18+, masturbation, oral, degrading, reader has a thing for accents, reader also has a cute tummy pooch 
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Carlos's eyes roamed across the room, though he wasn't entirely paying attention, just trying to make himself look busy. He hated these stupid things. It wasn't always Umbrella had to deal with national threats however, and he much preferred boring little parties than being sent out to wherever to extract people and secure overrun areas. That didn't mean Carlos paid much attention when it came to them. 
At least he usually didn't, but today he found something worth paying attention to. Rather... someone. Carlos couldn't quite explain how or why you stood out, there were several people that attended these things. Several people that could just have easily been perceived as attractive.
Maybe it was the way you carried yourself. Maybe it was the way you quickly snubbed one of the rich assholes that decided the seat beside you needed filling. Maybe it was the way your pretty little throat seemed to move, as you swallowed the drink in your hands. Or maybe even it was the way your manicured nails wrapped around the stem of your wine glass. Whatever the reason, Carlos couldn't stop staring. 
That's where it had started anyway. Despite seeing the many failed attempts of others, he knew he'd be a fool not to at least try and get your attention. After all, you had already effortlessly captured his. 
As a guard, he was supposed to patrol around anyway. It wouldn't look too suspicious to walk around for a bit, casually bumping into you. He made his way over to the bar.
While thinking about how to approach you however, you moved a seat over, sitting right beside him. Carlos was stunned but wouldn't deny it had given him a little confidence boost. Of all the guys that had attempted to swoon you, he was the only one to successfully have you move and sit by him. 
"You stalking me?"
Carlos felt his cheeks flush, all potential game he had flying out the window. He let out a nervous chuckle, embarrassment creeping up along his neck. He had thought he was being subtle checking you out... How long had you noticed his gawking? 
"What... I... No, I work here," he replied, hating how he seemed to stumble over his words.
"At the bar?" you asked, raising one eyebrow skeptically.
This only seemed to make him more flustered, as he shifted in his little bar stool, suddenly feeling much too big for the chair.
"No, for the host. I decided to take my break now... I... needed a drink."
He couldn't quite go into details. All guards were undercover tonight. While Umbrella expected for things to go smoothly, they could never be too cautious. You didn't seem to buy it, still holding that same unamused look on your face.
"You needed a drink?"
"Well... I don't exactly mind the company either," Carlos teased, giving you a crooked smile. He seemed pleased with himself, finally finding his words. 
You didn't say anything, only rolling your eyes, as you reached down, taking another sip from your glass. 
"Hmm..." was all you said in response. 
Carlos was usually good with people, and he knew it. He knew he was attractive as well, which certainly helped when it came to wooing those around him. Despite all these qualities, he was no stranger to rejection either. 
When it came to you however, he wasn't quite sure where he stood. Being good with people and attractive to most, didn't seem to carry over when talking to you. 
"You find me attractive."
It wasn't a question but a statement. One you weren't asking confirmation for. You didn't need it. The way his lingering gaze seemed to rake over your body, his fidgety movements in the bar stool, and his inability to find his words all but confirmed this. 
After not giving a response, you flashed him a teasing smile, and the look you gave him somehow terrified him and turned him on. Your head tilted slightly, as you ran your index finger around the rim of your glass.
"And you want to know if I find you attractive?" you continued. 
Carlos could practically feel his clothes clinging to him rather tightly, the material growing a bit uncomfortable in all the wrong places. It took everything in him not to come off as desperate. 
You didn't need an answer, only reaching over and squeezing his thigh lightly. 
The little movement drove him wild, as his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his body felt a lot warmer. He was itching to get out of these clothes. 
You flashed him an inviting look, as you gracefully slid off the bar stool. You didn't have to tell Carlos twice, as he followed your lead, his heart pounding. 
If you had told him he'd be receiving the best head of his life, in the tiny bathroom of some hotshot at Umbrella's house, he would've laughed in your face. But here he was, having your pretty lips, carefully kissing and licking in all the right places, as your head bobbed up and down. 
Carlos's back was pressed against the wall, as he grabbed the shower curtain for support, unable to formulate any sort of word. It took all his focus to keep quiet, knowing the walls were pretty thin. That it wouldn't be impossible for them to get caught. Part of him also grew harder, thinking about being caught. 
Fuck... were you good at this. Every little sensation made his thighs shake and his back arch. Carlos was practically vibrating from your touch. Your cool hands against his warm flesh sent jolts down his spine. As your tongue ran along that spot, his hips gave an involuntary jut forward, hitting the back of your throat.
The gagging noise that came from your mouth only seemed to drive him further, as he felt that all too familiar heat build up inside him.  All the blood rushed down into him. 
You seemed pleased with his response, picking up speed. Carlos's grip tightened, as he threw his head back, biting on his tongue to hold back any potential noises. He wanted so desperately to let out a series of moans, as sweat formed along his forehead. 
Your tongue was rough, brushing against all the right places. He was surprised at how well you took in his length, knowing just which places to linger and rub against. Just as you built him to that spot, the shower curtain snapped under his large hands, crashing. 
You were startled at first, pulling your mouth back, as Carlos released all over the tile floor. The white liquid is a stark contrast in color against the sleek black tiles. He felt heat creep up his neck, as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 
After realizing what happened, you simply laughed, though the noise was short lived as a knock erupted on the door. 
"Is everything okay in there?" 
Carlos recognized the host's voice, his neck burning. Before he could speak however, your hand went to his mouth, as you spoke, almost effortlessly. 
"Yeah... just a bit too much to drink. I slipped and fell. I'm fine, but I broke your shower curtain. I promise I will replace it." 
"Don't worry about it, just... be careful in there."
Once you both heard the footsteps draw away, you removed your hand from Carlos's mouth, laughing once again. 
"I told you to be quiet..." you teased, eyeing the mess on the floor. 
Carlos only rubbed the back of his neck, smiling softly. 
"You know how impossible that is when someone as good as you is on my dick?"
You only rolled your eyes at him, however based on the coy smile you were, you were clearly pleased with yourself. 
Then... that was that. Carlos didn't see you again. You had slipped out of the bathroom as quickly as you came, disappearing into the crowd. He thought he would be content with that. He had successfully gotten you alone, unlike anyone else that had approached you that night. 
It had the exact opposite effect though. Many nights, Carlos found himself craving your mouth on him again. Wondering what it felt like to be inside of you, watching as he pounded into you relentlessly. You had given him the night of his life, and he was desperate to return the favor. Not to mention you had taken the blame for him damaging the shower curtain. 
Carlos went back to that night often, as he touched himself, but nothing could quite replicate the feel of your mouth. Hell, even sleeping with other people felt empty compared to that moment in the cramped bathroom. 
You'd even taken over his dreams, as he tried to imagine all the noises he could get to escape from your lips. Tonight was no different. 
He had awoken in a cold sweat, just before the release. All he could think about was you, as he let out an annoyed groan, running his hands along his face. It took everything in him to ignore the pulsing between his legs, desperate for any sort of contact. The clock on his bedside table seemed to blink urgently, as Carlos studied the number.
Too late to fall back asleep but too early to get out of bed. 
Carlos collapsed back into his pillows, letting out a breathy sigh. He couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of shame, imagining what could have possibly been hidden beneath your dress that night. Thinking about the way your chest bounced a little, as you moved against him. 
Reluctantly, he reached over, grabbing the lotion bottle he kept in his nightstand. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as he applied some to his dominant hand. Carlos's skin tingled at the coolness. 
His hand made it's way into his boxers, as he once again fell back into the familiar memory. Your legs, carefully crossed, as you slid off the barstool. The color of your underwear that night. The way your eyes seemed to wander his, as you pressed him against the wall, immediately going for his pants. How quickly you managed to slip his belt off. The ferality you had attacked him with.
This was becoming an unhealthy obsession. 
Carlos started to gently stroke himself, eyes closed. The mattress beneath him, becoming the cool bathroom wall. Unlike before... he could make whatever noises he wanted.
With every tug, he felt his breath almost stop, his heart rate quickening. He tried his best to replicate your speed, squeezing himself a little tighter. The coolness of the lotion was nothing like the heat from your mouth, but it was the closest thing he'd get. 
He only seemed to grow hotter, when he pictured your lips making quick work on him again, letting out a low groan. Carlos's hips bucked into his hand, as he began to quicken the pace. 
The blanket suddenly felt too hot against his skin, as he moaned softly. Carlos was mostly annoyed with himself, annoyed that he didn't ask your name. Annoyed he didn't try harder. Annoyed that all you two had been was a sloppy blow job in some pompous asshat's estate. 
His frustration mixed with his desire, only built up to his orgasm, as he worked along the length. What finally did him in was imagining your throat, moving up and down, as you sipped on the wine. 
Carlos screamed at no one in particular, arching his back as he relieved himself on his sheets. The feeling was nothing compared to what your mouth had done, but it would have to do. 
"Fuck..." he mumbled to himself, as he rolled on his side, a panting sweaty mess. This was getting bad. Carlos would do anything to run into you again, but it was starting to feel damn near impossible. Not to mention, you'd probably find his obsessive behavior creepy. He just couldn't help himself. You practically had him in a chokehold. 
It wasn't until Carlos had started giving up on the idea, that he ran into you again. Well... sort of. 
Carlos followed after his supervisor, his shoulders tightened, as he kept alert, his gaze sweeping the area. They hadn't informed him of much about what was going on, just that the supervisor wanted to speak to him in private.
Part of Carlos was worried that his little secret about the party had been revealed somehow. He tried to ignore the tightening in his stomach, as he stepped inside the office.
The man that escorted him took a seat in the leather chair, turning slightly. 
"Mr. Oliveira..." he started stoically. 
Carlos only nodded softly in response, holding his gaze. He was practically frozen in his spot, his chest tightening. Then he exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
"You seem nervous."
"Just... a little on edge,” more like he wanted to get edged. “Haven't been sleeping well Sir," Carlos replied, trying his best not to move. He hoped he'd sounded more convincing than he felt. 
The man doesn't seem to care too much, shrugging, as he leant back in his seat. 
"Is that so? Do I need to change your patrol so you can get your sleeping schedule under control?"
"Absolutely not sir, I know I've been slacking a little, but I promise today I will redeem myself. Rogers and I planned on doing a bunch of extra exercises today in preparation for next week." 
The man shook his head, sighing.
"Scratch that, I have a task for you Oliveira. Normally I'd ask my second, but he's still busy with the Europe issue. It's a personal matter."
Carlos seemed to perk up, almost intrigued. Though, he stopped listening when he spotted a photo on the man's desk. His blood ran cold, and he felt all the color drain from his face.
It didn't take a genius to figure anything out. Without a doubt that was indeed you on his desk, smiling. 
Carlos's Supervisor seemed to take note, looking somewhat annoyed. 
"Ah... I forgot, you haven't been here before. That's my daughter... a pain in my ass. Here's a word of advice, kid, don't have children. Nothing but trouble. She embarrassed me last week at the party I threw. The audacity. Brought some stranger into my bathroom and fucked him. She thinks she was clever and quiet about it, but I know. The second I find the bastard that went in there with her..." 
Carlos's heart rate only increased as he let out a nervous laugh. Of course the one woman he'd ever been obsessed with would be the kid of his supervisor. Fuck... he was going to loose his job so fast. Maybe even end up dead in a ditch somewhere. 
"Sounds... like a mess..." he replied awkwardly, shifting his footing. "What... What was the task?"
The man nodded, waving his hand.
"Of course, it actually pertains to this. I want you to keep an eye out, anyone that so much as glances at her, I want you to report it to me. I'm having her come by today. I want to figure out which one of them disrespected me like that. Who just... right on the floor."
Carlos felt his eyes widen, as he sucked in a breath, chewing his bottom lip. Heat once again crept on his neck. Not his proudest moment. 
"Sounds like a real piece of shit..." Carlos replied, believing every word. 
After feeling lectured, despite the Supervisor never directly addressing him, Carlos made his way back towards the training rooms, with his head down. This of course did not go unnoticed by his colleagues, who were used to the charming and charismatic casanova practically bragging about his endeavors. 
"Oliveira's finally gone quiet, that's a first."
"He always locks up when he gets a really bad rejection. Things must've not gone well in Hardy's office." 
Their teasing only made Carlos smile awkwardly, as he waved a dismissive hand. 
"Nah... nothing like that. Rough morning, and Hardy is just on edge. Picked out a special task, just for me, but I'm not feeling so lucky about it," he replied. 
The first one that spoke, a blond Carlos remembered as Rogers, laughed slightly, as he began doing pull ups. Carlos settled at the work bench beside him, not really focusing on exercise. His eyes scanned the room, practically expecting you to pop up out of nowhere. 
"Yeah? Why's that? He sending you to Europe too? I wouldn't wanna touch that mess with a ten foot pole."
Carlos shook his head, unsure what to say. Surely, if he brought it up it would land him in hot water. Or... maybe he could get lucky, pawn his sins off on one of the other poor suckers here. He never was a fan of Terwilliger. 
"Nothing of the sort thank god, Hardy's pissed someone made off with his daughter at the last little party he hosted."
"Shit, someone managed to not get rejected by Hardy Jr.? She must've been super pissed off at her dad that night then. Any clue who it is? Lucky son of a bitch whoever it is, I gave up after the first two rejections." Rogers replied, still focused on his little exercise routine. 
Carlos absently lifted one of the weights, hoping he didn't look as red as he felt. 
"Hardy seemed clueless, whoever the perpetrator is hasn't been caught yet." 
The conversation didn't get to carry on, as a familiar head poked itself into the training room. It took every ounce of self-control Carlos had not to react, as you peered around, a mischievous look on your face. For a moment, Carlos was worried you'd approach him and give him away. 
"Good morning boys," You greeted, never once looking at Carlos. For some reason that upset him more than the potential of being caught did. 
Rogers smirks slightly down at Carlos, glancing around the room. 
"Who do you think she's looking for?" he whispered. 
Carlos doesn't reply, shrugging, as he moves off the workbench. 
"Hardy is in his office, though the view is arguably much better here," a brunette teased, leaning against the wall. Terwilliger.
You eyed him slightly, still not meeting Carlos's gaze, as you hummed quietly in response. 
"Really... I haven't noticed anything worth seeing." 
Carlos rolled his eyes, brushing past you, as he made his way out of the room. He wasn't sure what he expected, or why he even had expectations at all. It's not like you were obligated to feel any way about him. 
He sighed, making his way to the bathroom. No surprise to himself, he was already starting to feel himself get hard, just from seeing you. He groaned in annoyance, staring down at himself. He was a very weak man, and part of that made him feel pathetic. You hadn't even acknowledged his presence, and he was begging like a dog. 
Carlos couldn't help but also smile a little... he now knew your name. Dangerous information. 
He glanced around once more, and after realizing he was alone, he loosened his belt. Again? This is pathetic. As Carlos shamed himself, he felt his pants getting tighter against him, practically begging to be set free. 
Such a sad little bitch he was. Oh but how badly he wanted to be your bitch.
Carlos groaned slightly, as he slipped his hand into his pants, instantly getting a chill down his spine from the pressure. His once cool fingers instantly increased in temperature as he carefully started on the tip, massaging himself. All he could think about was you, standing in the doorway, taunting him with those devilish eyes. 
He felt himself twitch slightly in his hand, as he let out a quiet moan from the pace mixed with your image. 
"Fuck... that's right," he said to himself, his voice quieting as he said your name. No not said... practically purred it. It was like a symphony to his ears, making that heat inside of him build up. You were so perfect to him. 
Right as he was reaching that spot, his hand slowly traveling up and down, the sound of the door opening caused his blood to freeze. Carlos stood, hand still in pants, as his gaze jerked towards the door. He felt that heat creep up his neck, his cheeks flushing in color. He couldn't move, as his eyes met with yours.
You weren't staring at him in disgust or judgment though, which only seemed to make him more scared. You carefully stepped in, locking the door. You were in the men's restroom. Fuck... Carlos was so dead. 
"You already started without me?" 
Your voice sent chills down his spine, as he stared blankly at you, his erection now forgotten. You jumped on the sink in front of him, smiling coyly. 
"Well don't stop on my account. Don't suddenly act shy, like you weren't calling me in here." 
After a few moments of silence, and Carlos not doing anything but staring stunned, you rolled your eyes, sliding off the sink and tugging at his pants. 
"If you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask, pretty boy."
"I'm sorry... I'm not quite sure what's happening here..." Carlos replied, slowly pulling his hand out of his boxers. 
"Really? You're not sure, because it looked like you were pleasuring yourself to the idea of me."
Carlos threw his hands up defensively, wracking his brain for an explanation. He wasn't quite sure how to respond, or what to even say. What could he possibly say? 
"It's not... I mean I... Well..."
He was surprised when you let out a little chuckle, eyes lighting up in realization.
"Ah... you're embarrassed. Isn't that cute. So you actually weren't trying to get my attention? You just happened to be that loud thinking about me." 
The subtlety in your tone, the way you batted your thick lashes at him, and how your lips pulled into that coy smile had him going mad. Your tiny fingers were still wrapped around his belt, gently flicking the buckle back and forth. The noise was enough to drive Carlos wild. You were toying with him, and he hated how much he loved it. 
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you..." Carlos breathed, his shoulders dropping. 
All shame was now tossed out the window. If you hadn't left now, chances are you probably weren't going to. He tried to ignore the little flutter in his heart at the idea that he might've been occupying your mind just as much. Carlos was desperate for any form of contact with you, and now that he had it, it was impossible to not tell you every dark desire in his mind.
"Aren't you sweet, I bet you touch yourself to me often."
"Almost every time now."
His response made him bite his tongue, and he's worried he's said too much. Carlos's heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. He was a sweaty mess under your gaze. You'd hardly done anything, and he was already winded. 
Carlos's words only made you smile in response, tilting your head, as you let out a soft hum. 
"Almost huh... guess I didn't leave a lasting enough impression last time."
Before Carlos could question you, your lips were on his, and you were making quick work of the buttons along his shirt. Your skin flush against his, a desperation in both your movements. Your teeth gently bit his bottom lip, causing Carlos to moan softly into your mouth. 
Once you'd pulled his shirt off, your lips traveled to the side, running along his jawline. 
"After today, I'm all you're going to be able to touch yourself to," you whispered in between kisses. 
Your words made Carlos practically burst out of his pants. His head was throw back in pleasure, as you kissed along his neck, your hands gripping his waist tightly. Everything about you sent jolts through his body. 
The way you spoke, the hunger in your lips, how your thigh brushed along his, your legs slowly intertwining. 
Carlos was practically acting on instinct, as he grabbed your thighs, lifting you on the bathroom sink. You seemed pleased, your legs wrapping around his waist and your hands pressed against the small of his back. Both of your hips were moving in a fluid motion together. 
His lips found yours again, as he made quick work of the jacket you had been wearing, peeling it off. It fell to the floor with a little slap, but the noise was unnoticed. Your hands trailed to the front of his pants. 
The clanking of his belt buckle only seemed to drive the both of you further, as you slipped it off, the accessory taking it's rightful place by your jacket. 
You smiled softly against Carlos's lips, your tongue brushing along his teeth, as he allowed you access. You made a pleasurable noise, fingers fumbling with the zipper of his pants. Carlos trailed his kiss down the length of your jaw, smiling as you threw your head back.
"Fuck..." you whispered softly, responding to the week of pent up desire for this man. 
"Need," you practically growled, unable to get the words out.
It didn't matter, Carlos seemed to understand you, as he pulled your shirt over your head. Without words, you two managed to communicate your desires efficiently. Almost as if you were wired to work together. 
Carlos nipped gently at your collarbone, his hand making quick work of your bra clasp. He hadn't gotten you to strip before, and now he was enamored by you. As the black fabric joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor, Carlos stared at you, gently kissing along the top of your breasts. 
"So beautiful..." he whispered, not wanting to take his lips away. 
Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, as you pulled it up, breaking contact with his lips temporarily. Before you could do much else, Carlos was pulling off your own pants, running his hands along the inside of your thighs. 
His brown eyes stared up at you hungrily, as a small smirk made it's way to his lips. You didn't have to ask why, you knew what he was excited about, as he aggressively tugged your underwear down. The roughness in his touch had you practically soaked, as you let out a breathy gasp. 
Carlos seemed pleased with the noise, pressing a soft kiss against your left thigh. 
"You have no idea what you've done to my mind..." he whispered against your flesh, biting it softly. Your fingers tangled into his head, as you tried to urge him forward, pouting down at the man. 
"Screw your mind... look at what you're doing to my body," you practically whined. 
"I'm just getting started, bonita."
The way the words roll of his tongue, has you practically arching your back, despite the fact that he hasn't even kissed inside you yet. Fuck... did you have a thing of accents. 
Before you could respond, you felt his warm yet damp tongue slide along you, brushing against a particularly sensitive spot. Your hips jutted forward involuntarily, causing a dark chuckle to erupt from Carlos. Despite the front, you both knew how quickly the roles had changed. This man now had control over you, and you were loving every minute of that. 
You could feel his stubble gently brushing along your thighs, while he licked inside of you. His tongue darted in several different directions, causing your grip in his hair to tighten. Considering how much the man seemed to run his mouth, you were unsure why you were surprised at the speed his tongue moved inside of you. You were starting to regret being on the giving end the first time you two had encountered each other. With a tongue like that, you had really wasted Carlos's potential. 
Your hips bucked against his mouth, pulling back as he did, so when you met each other it increased the pleasure. You were surprised at how quickly this man was getting you off already. With every flick of his tongue, you were burying deeper into his face, your breathing becoming rugged. 
You were like a rubber band being stretched too far, and you could feel yourself wearing down. You were practically seeing stars. Carlos seemed focused however, his smile never faltering, as he licked along all the right places. You were practically shaking from the movements, biting your tongue to avoid screaming. But fuck did you need this man. Holy shit, you didn't know what you had been missing, as a quiet moan escaped your lips. 
After enough resistance, you felt that band finally snap, finishing with Carlos still inside of you. Your head thrown back, as you moaned his name, shaking involuntarily. The man between your legs let out a throaty laugh, as he began licking up the mess. 
He licked his lips, gazing up at you with a sultry look in his eyes. 
"Enjoying yourself?" Carlos purred, admiring his work. 
You couldn't speak, at first, your heart was pounding. You were a sweaty heap, and your legs were starting to ache. Carlos didn't quite look down, as he lowered you, pinning you against the wall. His hands traveling along your shoulders, slipping down your sides, and squeezing the small of your back. 
Fuck... your body was so beautiful to him. He was practically captivated. Each little curve. The way your stomach poked out. The texture of your skin. Every little scar and mark. How hot you felt against him, your body flush. He loved how much he had to work with. Carlos placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, smiling against the skin. 
All his senses were going haywire in your presence. 
"Your taste... your smell... how you feel. Fuck, you're driving me crazy maldito bebe." 
You attacked him hungrily, your nails grazing his back. He didn't seem bothered by your kiss, only moving to drop his own pants, as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You could taste yourself still on him, and part of you grew a little red at the thought. This man stirred a fire in you in so many ways, you couldn't keep up. 
Carlos pulled away slowly, staring into your eyes. 
"Are you comfortable with this? We don't have to do anything else, if you don't want to." 
You couldn't help but laugh. After the way you had just attacked him. You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, pulling him against you.
"Shut up and fuck me," you replied. 
Carlos smiled like you had just told him he was heaven on earth. Those words were all he needed, as he began pressing kissing all over your body, squeezing your thighs. You could feel him poking against you through his boxers. Your own fingers worked around the hem, until he sprang free, his boxers falling beside his pants. 
Within seconds, he was lifting your legs up, gripping your thighs as he used the wall for support, guiding himself in. Careful as always, he started slow, allowing you to adjust to him. 
It was obviously much bigger than his tongue, and you could hardly contain yourself, as you let out a slight wince. The noise evolved into a moan, as he shifted inside of you. Your walls were a little tight, resisting his movements at first. This only seemed to please the man more, as he let out a breathy sigh. 
"Fuck... this is so much better than my dreams. Mmm, such a good girl." 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, as he kissed all over you, nibbling on your neck. There was no way you were going to leave this bathroom without telltale signs of the things you two had done to each other. His praise made you grip on to him tighter, feeling that familiar fire burn up inside of you.
Carlos was so good at everything he did, every little touch, thrust, and kiss leaving you a whimpering mess. Your flesh practically burned from his grip. 
"Is that so... Mmm, so much better than all those filthy thoughts you've had about me, isn't it?"
You were surprised at first, when he rammed into you, his grip on your thighs tightening. It made you excited, as Carlos let out a quiet grunt into your skin. Your words seemed to stir awake something primal within him. The way he attacked your skin, while pounding into you was almost... animalistic. 
"So many...So horrible..." he groaned, "Fuck... I'm pathetic."
You couldn't help but smirk, noticing his own words seemed to affect the work he was doing. He stiffened inside of you, and his teeth scraped a little rougher against your flesh. Carlos's hands grabbing at your thighs was certain to leave hand marks. 
You were learning things about this man that made your spine tingle. Fuck... this man had to be fictional, the way he was working you up. 
"You're worse... you're so weak Carlos...you ought to be ashamed of yourself, fucking your supervisor's daughter right here where you work. Betraying his trust like this. All on the line and for what, a quick fuck like you're some common whore." 
You were pleased to see you had been correct, as you felt him slam in just that right spot, rubbing against your walls. It was enough to take your breath away, as he pressed himself further into your skin. His stubble tickled your collar bone, while sucking on a particularly sensitive spot, moaning into your skin.
"Fuck... do that again, I'm so close."
It was hard to focus on words, with how much this man was pushing your senses into overdrive. You couldn't believe this man was already leading you towards a second orgasm. 
"It's probably not even going to be your last time is it? You're so sick Carlos. Finding pleasure in betraying the man who relied on you. In fucking someone in the very bathroom of the place you work. You had one simple task, and you couldn't even accomplish that. Pitiful."
The words seem to be all he needed, causing Carlos to let out a loud moan. Heat spread through your body, as your hips rolled into his, making a noise of your own. You both were practically shaking. At this point shame was a foreign concept with neither of you trying to keep quiet anymore. Not like that felt entirely possible. 
Carlos’s forehead had beads of sweat, and he was a panting mess, his head resting against your chest. He let out a small laugh, his movements slowing down, as he looked up at you with sleepy eyes. 
With just one look, Carlos says so much, as he presses a careful kiss where he had bitten you moments before. His movements are much more gentle, as he pulls out of you, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. Fuck… you were like a dream to him, leaving him dazed and happy, while he got lost in your skin. 
His breathing slowed, and he let out a quiet chuckle, pulling his head back and gently caressing your face. 
“So… this wasn’t the last time right?”
You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh of your own at the gentleness in his tone. The way he looked so soft… so docile in comparison to the primal way he had attacked you moments ago. Your heart fluttered a little, as you brushed your fingers through his long hair, smiling down at him.
“Definitely not…”
Carlos seemed pleased with the answer, pressing soft kisses over the newly created bite marks on your skin. 
The moment was interrupted, as it often is, by a loud bang on the door. You looked up startled with Carlos’s lips still on your skin. You chewed your bottom lip, using the wall to keep yourself positioned upright.
“Oliveira, what the hell are you doing in there? We’re supposed to be in the training room right now.”
Carlos smirked up at you slightly, as he backed up, retrieving his discarded clothing.
“Fucking the supervisor’s daughter.”
Your eyes widened at his words, opening your mouth. As Carlos pulled his shirt on, he eyed you mischievously, raising one finger to his lips. 
“Shhh,” he mouthed. 
You only smiled back in response, following Carlos to your own clothes. You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he was that the moment was over so quickly, and Carlos’s body was now covered. 
“Ha, really funny. Don’t let Hardy hear you talking like that. Hurry up and finish your business, before we get extra hours this week.”
Carlos didn’t reply, as the sound of footsteps leaving the door filled the room. You fiddled with your pants, carefully putting all your clothes back on. You were definitely going to need a shower. Once you were certain the man was gone, you punched Carlos in the shoulder.  
“Are you trying to get us caught?” 
The dark haired man only smiled in response, tightening his belt. 
“I knew he wouldn’t take the comment seriously…” his words trailed off, as he stared at you. 
Even with all your clothing on, there were certain marks you couldn’t quite hide. Particularly the darker spots on your neck. Carlos couldn’t help but feel a little proud, knowing anyone that saw you would know exactly what happened. Even if they didn’t know who. Fuck, even if he did get caught, everything that had just happened between the two of you would be more than worth whatever his punishment would be. 
Carlos was surprised when you stepped closer to him, shoving something into his pocket. Before he could ask anything, you were already slipping out of the tiny room, glancing down the hallway.
When he reached into his pocket, he couldn’t help but feel his face flush, instantly recognizing the lacey texture of your underwear. Realization dawned on him, as he glanced back towards the bathroom door you had slipped out of. I guess… it was a good thing you were wearing pants. 
Carlos smiled softly to himself, as he pushed the garment deeper into his pocket. He couldn’t wait to give them back to you. 
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Megan Shepherd's TNBC Novelization: Review
Here are my thoughts and full review on Megan Shepherd's Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas (Novel). Although the book is closely based on the movie, there are a few unique things about it that I deem necessary to hide under a 'Read More', for spoilers to those who wish to avoid them.
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Review + my thoughts below!
The book closely follows the movie with descriptives for each scene, except it doesn't contain any of the songs or lyrics, so substitutional dialogue is used instead. Most of these went well to describe/summarize the songs they replaced. I have no complaints with how Megan followed the movie in novel form, it's pretty accurate beyond some...minor things.
One example: Halloween just ended when Jack goes missing and stumbles upon Christmas Town, and when he comes back, he decides to have Halloween Town handle Christmas themselves. It's noteworthy to mention that they manage to do this from only November 1st - December 25th, a timespan of only 2 months. However. In this novel, the timing is changed - and it takes the Town a whole year to manage their own Christmas, and it is stated in the text that they "skipped their first Halloween" in order to do it.
Wouldn't the humans notice something different with Halloween, without the monsters and creatures of the night to scare them? Wouldn't it be kind of lame, and warrant the title of a "bad Halloween"? When Santa Claus and his gifts were missing, the humans nearly brought an end to Christmas. Is Halloween exempt from impacting the humans like this? Wouldn't there be any repercussions? Isn't it the Holiday World's purpose/job to bring the holiday TO the humans??
Anyway!
The text is beautifully written and I loved Megan's portrayal of Jack Skellington's internal struggle and depression, and how Sally related to it. She wrote the two of them wonderfully in the novel and even brought new details into the picture, mentioning Sally had done sewing tasks for him and is the one who recommended putting white stripes on his suit. She also delivered his book of The Scientific Method from the Doctor to him. <3
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The novel contains a lot of little details/changes like these. I loved most of them and only had minor issues with a couple choices. One particular recurring mention, that I and other readers have disliked, was the heavy reference and implication to Jack Skellington's death. A few times in the novel, he thinks of his "previous life" and how he died. I share a fandom headcanon that Jack is a special skeleton from a species in Halloween Town itself, rather than him just dying. But this is a personal nitpick and doesn't impact anything, really - it's Megan's choice for his backstory, and I respect that!
Another small nitpick of mine is that I always thought Jack nabbed all the Christmas books from Christmas Town, but in this novel, it says that he got them from Halloween Town's Library. This brings all sorts of confusing questions into my mind...
A couple of my favorite lines from the book:
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Also, the MOST interesting part of this novel, for me, is how it follows The Pumpkin King Game's backstory for Oogie Boogie, where he attempted to overthrow Jack Skellington to become Bug King. The novel mentions this a few times, and it's one of my favorite takes of Oogie Boogie - so I was delighted to see canon from my favorite TNBC game implemented into the novel!
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Overall, I loved this novelization and the new headcanons it brought to me. It was wonderfully written and stayed close to the movie while also portraying the author's own takes on the characters and their feelings. Beyond my few minor nitpicks, it was great and I can't wait to see what the author will do with Long Live the Pumpkin Queen's sequel.
Check out this novelization if you can!
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confusedblakex · 1 year
Text
The Stars Fall
Pairing: Shoto Todoroki X (Male) Reader Angst
Summary: Cry for him, the strength you portray outwardly is only quickening how your love blinds you to everything else in the world
Wordcount: ~1200
Warnings: Internalised homophobia, hidden feelings, unrequited love
Requested by: No one
Inspired by: Goner by Twenty One Pilots
Notes: I struggled with this for some reason, I may go back on hiatus for a bit to get some motivation back
Last edited: 12th April 2023
Part 1 - Part 2 - Good Ending - Bad Ending
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Crying stars was extremely rare, but not unheard of. A quick internet search provided most of the information you needed.
It was a disease of love that one was afraid to outwardly express. The tears would eventually blind you.
You had brought eye drops and various eye creams to stop the pain, but as long as you restricted your crying, it wouldn’t get too much worse.
It worked for a bit, the days got warmer and spring rolled around, soon giving way to summer and a new year. Tears were few and far between, and while your eyesight was deteriorating, it was nothing of concern.
Unfortunately, the world enjoyed torturing you.
You and Shoto had drifted apart over the months, not enough to raise suspicion, but enough that he’d noticed. He never bought it up and thought it would be best to give you your space. Instead his father pushed on him that he should study more, train more, and take his relationship public to build popularity before he was even on the hero ranking. 
After all, a male hero in a straight monogamous relationship with another hero would only boost his popularity.
So that year, he sat down with Momo and worked through the details. For Valentines Day that year, they would play into the commercial holiday and announce their relationship.
He told you his plans to make it public, and asked you for advice on a romantic gesture. You struggled to keep the tears in when he asked, but answered nonetheless. You had to run off and do something immediately after you told him anyway. Shoto hadn’t once mentioned that his relationship with Momo was essentially an arranged marriage.
You cried more that night, and found your vision had been permanently damaged even more. The stars that fell in your bright orange tears were bigger now and scraped against your skin as they fell. No amount of eye drops could hold off the pain.
You dreaded Valentine's Day. Izuku sat with you through it all, and over the year you two had become close friends. Not like you and Shoto, but you were eternally grateful for his help.
He had spent night after night researching how to help you, but there was very little he could do. When you’d first told him a year ago, you were in the early stages, but recently it had started escalating rapidly. It all made sense when you told him about Shoto’s plan for Valentine’s Day. 
The only suggestion he could make was to take the risk and tell Shtoto how you felt. You knew it was your only option and that you’d eventually be blinded either way, but that somehow didn’t make it any easier.
---
“Hey Shtoto,” you asked one day, ignoring your minor struggle to see, “I need to tell you something,”
And he agreed, following you to your dorm and sitting with you while you gathered the courage together. If this didn’t work - which you knew it wouldn't - you would have to drop out of the hero course. Your family name would be tarnished, and your dreams of herowork would forever be unachievable.
You took a breath and spoke.
“I love you, Shoto, and I have for a while now,” You daren’t look in his direction, busying yourself by looking at something suddenly very interesting on the wall, “I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, but if you do by some miracle, please say so now,”
There was so much that he wanted to say that he just couldn’t. He himself didn’t know what he felt, let alone if the feelings were romantic or not. You two had always been close, and he would never want to hurt you, but he would need time to think it through. Even if he did love you back, there’d be no way to actually pursue it without some very careful planning and a talk with Momo.
So he just spoke the truth.
“I’m sorry, (y/n), but I don’t think I do,” he said carefully, “and even if I did, we would not be able to speak openly of this,”
He thought a moment longer before speaking again, “I understand this is difficult for you, but I would like to continue being only friends,”
“It’s okay Shoto, thank you for understanding” You said, relief and pain stirred within you.
“Would you perhaps like to hang out with me on Valentine’s?” Shoto asked, noticing your reaction, “After the main events of the day, of course”
“Sure, sounds nice.”
He left in an awkward silence, and you listened as his footsteps got quieter as he disappeared down the hallway.
Once he was gone, you sat there in silence. It was what you were expecting, so why did it still hurt? Tears started to spill over, and the stars tore at your eyes.
You took the glass of water next to your bed and threw it at the wall across from you, quickly picking up various other items and tossing them around your room. Stars on the floor impaled your bare feet, mixed with the sharp edges of broken glass shards, but orange light was all you could see.
You screamed and cried and tore your room apart until you couldn’t anymore. All your energy used, you curled up on the floor. You shut your eyes and just wished that this would all end now.
Izuku threw open the door and immediately ran over once he saw you, the state of your room something to address later. You sobbed into his arms and held onto him for dear life. Your agony reflected in your tears, as the red blood from your feet soaked into the carpet. 
There was so little he could do.
The mess in your room was put to a quirk accident, and Aizawa was informed of your condition. For the next few days, you were excused from hero training lessons and would be transferred to general studies in a few weeks' time.
Doctors from all over the world were called to try and help your condition, but there was nothing anyone could do. Valentine’s Day rolled around far quicker than you’d have liked. Only seeing blurs, you trudged to the lunch hall and sat down next to Izuku with his help.
“I thought you weren’t going to come to classes today?”
“It’s my last day, I didn’t want to miss it…”
And yet out of all the blurs, you could make out red and white hair on another table, standing up and talking to someone with dark hair. As much as Izuku tried to distract you, you couldn’t ignore it.
“I’m proud to announce that I am in a relationship with Momo Yaoyorozu,”
You felt a tear trail down your cheek and you winced at the scraping pain. You shut your eyes, just wanting it to stop. This was the last time you’d need to bear the pain, tomorrow you’d be far enough away from it and be able to move on.
“(y/n),” Izuku’s worried voice faded in through your thoughts.
“(y/n), that was blood,”
You looked to him, but once your eyes opened, you instead saw darkness and an unmoving orange glow. So this was it.
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cyberneticnipples · 2 months
Text
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"God doesn't give with both hands."
Just a quick run down of Dove's life TW(mostly non-graphic description): Murder, abuse of a minor in many ways, bullying, amputation, eye injury, basically many bad things have happened to this sweet angel but I won't ever be putting anything in graphic detail on this blog.
Dove was born in 2054 to a couple living on the outskirts of Night City. When their small town was attacked she was the only survivor, taken in by the Raffens who raized the town around her for fun, scrap, and supplies. The Wraith couple that pulled her from her dead father's grasp saw the potential to raise her in their ranks or dispose of her when they grew tired. They mockingly named her, seeing her white-blonde wisps.
As far as parents go, they kept her fed, mostly kibble, enough to stay alive. They weren't the worst of the Raffens, but had a heavy hand that matched their neverending strictness. When she was 7 there was an accident with CHOOH2 that left her blinded. Everyone arguing over whether she'd be easier to dispatch over the loss instead of finding her new optics is something she'll never forget. They gave her an unmatched pair pulled out of two dead nomads they “came across” months later that she had to work to earn back the lost eddies. Mostly given “bitch work” of cleaning guns, doing laundry, and patching up clan members in the med tent, she enjoyed it. It wasn't hard to stay out of trouble until the other younger kids noticed she was different. Softer, kinder, weaker.
At 13 both of her parents died in a raid. She didn't miss them. Without them around, Dove did her best to blend and not make a fuss. Taking the cruelty without a complaint and getting her tasks done to be valuable. It was all she knew anyway. Wraiths weren't kind to anyone, not even each other. Unless, of course, they needed something and someone further up the food chain had it. Her only friend was Jonah, a boy a few years older than her who snuck her extra food and distracted the other kids from any ire they felt towards her.
When she was 16 she klepped a cigarette from someone's belongings and he chose to remove her right arm above the elbow in front of the entire clan as punishment for stealing- she wouldn't get a cyberarm until she was 20 and could afford one with smuggling money. This is where her hatred of mantis blades stems from. Shortly after losing her arm, she and Jonah had a falling out and he leaves for Night City, having begged her to join him but she declined.
Without Jonah to supplement her needs, she had to start taking on smuggling jobs into the city or risk death. These trips were her first time entering the city. Most of her jobs were drug and stolen cyberware related. Very few hiccups. She rubbed elbows with mostly Maelstrom supplying Totentanz with a steady stream of illicit goods and tech picked up from Badlands raids.
When she was 19 she helped a captive of her clan escape which set off the chain of events that lead to her leaving herself, finally ready without outside influence to attempt to make it on her own in the city.
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modern-day-bard · 8 months
Text
Worth The Feeling
Chapter 30
Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.
When my mom finds me, I'm curled up in a ball in my room, eyes swollen and nose running. At this point, she gives me a knowing look and I have no other choice but to spill everything to her. To be fair, I had promised to tell her anyway last night. Though I didn't know I would be getting this extra piece to the chaos-infused puzzle of my life.
I tell her everything—save for the intimate details and nights spent in the same bed-–and she listens. She doesn't have a strong reaction to any of it, just nods along and squeezes my knee when I get choked up. I didn't expect either of my parents to know who Javi was. They almost exclusively watch the local news, and the Hallmark Channel. Explaining the magnitude of it all is the most embarrassing part. Well, that is, until I get to the most recent update.
There is no way for me to hide the fact that Javi and I were at least kissing at the wrap party. I wouldn't be able to explain why I flew here to begin with. This also means that I have to explain the way I flirted with Blake in Italy, and how he showed up in our hotel room. Because apparently, he was so irked by the studio telling him that I was asked if I was going to press charges, that he had refused to attend the party at all. No one expected him to show. That is why, when he was spotted by the VIP door, skirting away out the back, it was seen as slightly suspicious. Emma, of all people, noticed him and thought to report this information to the studio when she saw the tabloids. After all, only the lead roles had keys to that room. I make a mental note to send her flowers.
The studio called Blake, threatening him with legal action, or he could simply admit to it now and make the whole thing easier. He did admit to it, under the promise that they wouldn't make that known to the press.
Which made for one last loose end for Norwick to tie up: me.
They could promise Blake all they wanted that they wouldn't go to the press, but I could. I could post about, spread it around town, sell the information to the tabloids, and there was nothing Norwick could do about it. The rest of the phone call, after my soul returned back into my body, was Devon explaining the documents he was going to send to me. I need to sign something that says I was not put in harm's way from the studio, that this wouldn't impact my promotion, and that I promised I wouldn't press charges that would out Blake for defamation, his past threats, or revenge porn. He and Tom made it clear they weren't interested in sparing Blake from the bad press, but they did need to spare the movie and its future sales. I agreed to it. At this point, I just want it to all go away.
"But...honey, this is a good thing, isn't it?" My mom asks after she's sure that I've finished unloading this shitstorm. "Your promotion isn't in jeopardy, and it was just some lousy has-been with a camera."
It's not worth explaining to my mom that Blake Henley is far from a has-been.
"No, that part is good. I'm grateful for that. I just feel...exposed. And for the past few months Javi and I have tried to keep our relationship a secret from just the studio...I didn't think it would get posted everywhere so fast." I sniffle.
My mom waits, sensing there is more. And of course, there is. "I feel like it might be...too much, for him. We haven't known each other for too long. What if it's not long enough for this to be worth it," My voice drops to a whisper, "What if...what if I'm not worth this?"
My mom hugs me now, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders.
"Maybe this won't mean much coming from your mother. But you are worth it. Ava, I haven't seen you talk about a man like this, probably, ever. Not even with John." She pulls back and her face softens in sympathy. "I probably shouldn't talk about him. But you know what I mean. Do you feel like it's worth it?"
I nod gently. "When I'm with him, I'm not thinking about anything else. It feels heavy but...it's worth it."
"Then follow that feeling. If he knows what's good for him," she smirks, "He'll know that feeling is worth everything."
I wipe my nose with the back of my sleeve and smile at her. "Thanks, Mom."
After a minute, my smile turns sly. "Would now be a good time to tell you Javi is older than me?" I knew they wouldn't care once they heard how much I liked him, but I also knew it would completely throw her off.
My mom laughs. "How much older?"
"Older. Let's call it at least...twenty years older."
My mom's face goes slightly pale, and I let out my first, real laugh since I got home.
She smiles despite herself. "Maybe wait to tell your father that detail. Let's lead with...well, anything else."
Both of us laugh now, and I feel the room get brighter despite the setting sun.
- - -
Telling my dad later on was a bit easier now that I had told my mom. Having her support made it go smoother. That and the fact that this time I was crying a lot less. After his anger toward the media and Blake subsides, he mostly just wants to know more about Javi. I tell them both about how we met, and our first date. I tell them about Italy and how he calmed me on the plane.
"How was the plane ride here? That was one of the most shocking things to me, that you boarded so last minute." My dad interjects.
"Honestly I think wanting to escape all of the craziness helped. I would rather it wasn't happening but it pushed me to get on the plane, and my panic was minimal."
My dad reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
"I'm proud of you."
The earnestness in his voice is enough to make my eyes well up again. I've cried so much today I'm surprised I have any tears left.
"So what does your guy think about all this?" He asks, and I know he's trying to change the subject to avoid seeing me cry.
"Well, uh, he's been supportive but we haven't been able to talk about it much. Everything happened so fast. He wanted me to come to his house when I left but I felt like it would create a bigger media storm. Now that I've been home for a bit...I feel like I ran off too soon."
"Why don't you give him a call then?"
"I asked him to call me after his meeting but then Dwayne called and after hearing about Blake I just sort of listened and then cried until mom came home." I laugh but my dad gives me a disapproving stare.
"And you said you weren't going to charge him?"
I nod. "I feel like he's just bitter over what happened in Italy, or maybe he's just bored, but it would create even more of a mess. I also don't think what he did was technically illegal, even though it's creating all this...noise."
My dad nods now. He hesitates, then adds, "I can't deny that this worries me, honey. It sounds like a very big spotlight on you."
"We'll have your back here, of course," my mom chimes in.
"Of course," he agrees, "And I am glad your studio has your back, too."
"It really seems like they do. Dwayne still plans on giving me his position."
My parents exchange a long look.
"I can't say that I thought you would ever date an actor," there is humor in my dad's voice now. "Is he very dramatic?"
I laugh. "I think you'd like him. He's very down to earth."
"Hmm. Well you deserve to be happy sweetie."
"Thanks, dad." I smile at him before letting out a big puff of air. "I think I've been wanting to talk to you guys about all of this for a while. It's been hectic. Great, but hectic."
"When do you think you'll go back?" my mom asks.
I shrug. "I don't know. I'm on hiatus for at least another month. I do need to know what Javi wants to do, and what our PR guy told him to do. Dwayne said that Javi was given advice on next steps and I'm nervous about what that means. I told mom but, I think...I think it's possible this has run its course. It might be too much for him."
My dad clicks his tongue. "Don't jump to conclusions, Ava. You just need to talk to him."
I nod. "I know, I will." I glance over at the clock. It's not even eight yet, but the stress of the earlier phone call, the jet lag, and retelling these past few months twice is weighing on me.
"Honestly I think I might turn in early."
"Okay honey," My dad stands up to press a kiss to the top of my head.
"Love you," My mom calls after me as I make my way up the stairs.
I know they're right, and I need to talk to him. I reread his text messages while I brush my teeth. I don't know why I feel so nervous about all of this, and so calm when I read his last texts. When I'm alone, or I'm speaking to my parents about it, all I can think is, why would he want to deal with this? I can imagine what people are saying about him, just by the few questions the paparazzi barked at me the other morning. I don't know why he would put up with all of that. He could date someone who gets it, someone who is used to the limelight. But when I read his reassuring messages, and how understanding he was when I up and left...I don't feel the weight of my fear.
When I get under my covers, I take a deep breath, and call him.
I'm feeling good about my decision to do so until he doesn't pick up. It rings and rings, but it goes to voicemail. I hadn't planned for this, and my heart beats a little faster.
"Hey, um, it's me. I was just calling to see how the meeting went. I had a call earlier with Dwayne...but now I'm wondering if I shouldn't say any of this over the phone. I'm not sure what the protocol is," I let out a nervous laugh and feel my face flush. What am I saying? "It's been good to be home, but...I miss you. I guess that's all I wanted to say. Okay, bye."
I hang up, covering my face with my hands immediately. Not my best work.
I turn my call volume up, knowing that it must be almost six back in L.A. so he still might give me a call back. Grabbing my marine book from the bedside table, I flop on my back and read a chapter about penguins.
The next thing I know, I'm being jolted awake by the sound of my alarm screaming near my ear.
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randomshenaniganery · 9 months
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TGCF Donghua
okay so I've been watching this shit since it was released and I'm fully enjoying waiting for the weekly episodes and I wanna rant about it because I love it so much but I do have some minor gripes
Bad chuchu out of the way first
I am not happy with how generic and unoriginal the designs for most of the supporting characters. Like yeah they still look somewhat different but when the pool of named characters will expand it will get harder and harder to tell people apart if they keep on going with this route. Almost everyone suffers from same face syndrome which I know is rampant in current anime I just wished they allowed for at least more dynamic silhouettes, hairstyles, and color palettes. It feels like a more toned down version of the character design in the manhua. Lang Qianqiu in the manhua is so easy to recognize because of his outfit and pei ming looks more like the bastard he is etc. Don't get me started on the design for Kemo, the manhua felt eh I feel like Kemo was too pretty and too slim but in the donghua its just he's a straight up orc idk, i feel like they could've done better. Pei Su looks very generic, I think out of everyone he's the most generic looking of them all. SQX, Ling Wen and Jun Wu are the best designs for the supporting cast and I think Banyue is also okay looking cause you can tell her apart from the rest so far.
I am super disappointed in Qi Rong's reveal because it doesn't feel as impactful in the book. In the book the reveal of him looking like Xie Lian was so dramatic to me I was like oh my god is that his brother? A twin? a doppelganger? And then Qi Rong just kinda looks like that, tbh his voice actor and his clothes are fine I think they fit. It's just weird how he suffers from same face syndrome. If they made everyone look less like each other making Qi Rong look like Xie Lian would have been so impactful and a really cool cliffhanger but they couldn't do that because even fucking Lang Qianqiu kinda looks like Xie Lian with lighter hair. Also the Fang xin design is alright on the clothes but the mask gives off a bit cheap however I get that it can't be super detailed and it still does its job so I can handwave that small pet peeve.
Also censorship we couldn't get Xie Lian falling on Hua Cheng's lap and so them trying to make up for that was super awkward LMAO, they could have solved this by making SQX fall right on Hua Cheng's chair so that they could justify why Xie Lian grabbed Hua Cheng and throws him but they didn't... and it's so awkward...
I think it was like Episode 2 of s2 that the animation feels weird, Mu Qing's face felt off to me idk what was going on it just felt like something went down but the next episode it was perfectly fine anyway.
Positives!!!
Something the manhua didn't have was Fu Yao and Nan Feng looking a bit like each other, that was so fucking funny and it's a great display of how much they hate each other and live rent free in each other's heads ong. I love that detail the donghua did I think that's smart.
The voice actors are so great in both dubs they're doing amazing (I haven't listened to the jp dub) I have no complaints I love their work
ONE of my favorite things about the donghua is being able to see Hua Cheng's expressions even when Xie Lian is doing something in the book so he wouldn't notice. I love seeing how pleased he is every time someone points out the intimacy with him and Xie Lian. Like in season 1 when Fu Yao is shocked/horrified that Xie Lian shared a bed with Hua Cheng, San Lang puts a hand on his chin and looks so fucking smug and happy. This happens a couple times in s2 as well someone will be like oh that's weird you're so like this with Hua Cheng and he becomes a smug cat it's great.
Another one I enjoy is during the beginning of the banyue arc when Xie Lian reveals to Fu Yao and Nan Feng that he's used to sleeping in squalor the camera goes to Nan Feng not revealing his face but clearly showing his guilt over what Xie Lian reveals. That's good shit.
Lan Chang picking a fight off screen, also cool, love seeing her. I like that she looks inconspicuous so for someone who doesn't know shit about tgcf they will not see *that* shit coming.
ALSO the men look kinda generic if they're not the mls but the girls are all gorgeous???? like the woman who was Hua Cheng's speaker, the girl who led Xie Lian further into the gambling den, XUAN JI, Banyue all the girls are unique without being so ostentatious and I love them. If you put them beside each other they all look like they're own thing but still on theme. From clothes, to hairstyle and colors it's easy to tell and that's good design. I also include SQX's female form cause she's gorgeous too.
The donghua I think adds to stuff I haven't read I'm not sure if this is because I have a bad memory but I don't recall reading a flashback of Lang Qianqiu and the failed robbery. But the message of that entire section was so fucking good. The way that what Lang Qianqiu said about 'maybe he shouldn't have intervened' and the sound effects UGh. It's so good, i love how the book tackles the morality of everything, breaking down Lang Qianqiu's firm positivity and believing in humanity but still promoting being kind and considerate through Xie Lian. This theme still carries on in the show and I think they're doing a great job.
GOD THE MUSIC in the donghua is so fucking good, I love it. The songs, the meanings, the beat it's all perfect I can't say anything more.
even though i'm disappointed in the character design choices the donghua is very solid, I love it a lot. It does come off as very expositiony sometimes but I think that's very prevalent in Chinese Wuxia and Xianxia. Probably weird for people who aren't used to the genre but to anyone who's seen something like it, it's not unbearable and it's kinda necessary because of how the book is written. Waiting for wednesday patiently whilst i draw huahua
There are so many fun details the Donghua adds that shows that they know the story and where it's going as well hinting at character stuff, it's so fun to spot those. Like Xie Lian's reaction to Hua Cheng biting the bun made me wanna claw my face that shit was good af.
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jittyjames · 1 year
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for the fanfic writer asks!!
3, 11, 13, 19, 20, 24, 33, 39 (bc your fics drive me insane and i need more of your incredible works), 42, 45, 69 and 74!!!
sorry that i put loads, just choose whatever ones you want to answer out of the ones i’ve asked <3
YOU KNOW I'M GOING TO ANSWER THEM ALL BESTIE
3- ok so my process is basically non-existent, but i'll walk you through it anyway. so i'll have an idea for a scene literally at any point. sometimes it can be a single sentence or sometimes it can be a vague concept, but i always write it down. if i have my phone it's almost always going in my notes app. from there, i just kind of expand on the idea as it develops when i get back to my laptop. i tend to write the exciting and important scenes first in a very rough fashion, and then go back to fill in the blanks. then i go back and polish by combing over it for grammar mistakes and adding a few more details. that's pretty much it!
11- OOO! i'll do three for hamilton and three for jcs to appease both sides
FAV HAMILTON FICS AT THE MOMENT ARE a more perfect union by holograms (thanks to crys for introducing me to THIS), the monticello furlough by michelle_a_emerlind, and death of a nation by cyanspica
THEN HONORABLE MENTIONS!! LITERALLY ANYTHING BY YOU, CECE, AND XEN. I EAT THOSE UP EVERY. GODDAMN. TIME.
FAV JCS FICS AT THE MOMENT ARE obviously the incomparable ruined ambition series by @solarflicker (which i literally trip over myself to go read every time i get the email that it's been updated), picking up the palm fronds by onetrueobligation, and the cup that can't be filled by @ohsoldier (literally the good omens/jcs crossover of my dreams)
SO MANY MORE TOO!! BOTH FANDOMS ARE FILLED WITH SO MANY TALENTED PEOPLE! GO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS PEOPLE. FANFIC WRITERS AND FANARTISTS ARE THE ONES WHO KEEP FANDOM ALIVE.
13- "write for yourself, your dick, and your six closest friends." SHARED BY @fireballdance
19- my most used rating tag is mature, my most tagged ship is hamilton/laurens, my most tagged character is hamilton (obv lol), and my most used additional tag is hurt/comfort
20- i use a lot of rain imagery i think. actually i use a lot of weather imagery bc i'm annoyinggg. and then ofc i use aspects of my trauma in most of my fics (even ones you wouldn't suspect) but no one really would pick up on that since y'all don't know, but themes of abuse are certainly littered through out. obviously biblical imagery, too. i can't think of any phrases, SO IF YOU KNOW OF SOME THAT YOU NOTICED I'VE USED A LOT LEMME KNOW.
24- the worst advice i've ever gotten is if you're stuck, delete everything and start over. absolutely not. you can start over, but i wouldn't ever delete anything. even if i don't use lines in one fic, i can always recycle and put it somewhere else. NEVER DELETE. YOU'LL REGRET IT. TAKE MY WORD FOR IT.
33- YES I WANT TO BE PUBLISHED. i have so many original novel ideas and i want to write southern gothic literature so badly. i doubt it will ever happen but that's the dream. i would also really like to write my own plays :))) but for now, i'm sticking to universes and characters i'm already familiar with
39- OOOO I HAVE SO MANY WIPS BC OF WHUMPTOBER (currently have a little bit over 30k words written 👀👀 and that's not even counting the kink stuff BUT I'M NOT GOING INTO THAT WITH YOU BC YOU ARE A MINOR) BUT LEMME PICK ONE I THINK YOU'LL LIKE
Philip’s forehead burned under his hand.  Alexander felt something in his chest and stomach plummet to what seemed like hell. He remembered the feeling of this. He remembered how hot his mother’s flesh had seared as she shivered against him, her arms wrapped tight and secure as she hummed shakily to him. He remembered how she soothed her hand over his hair as she whispered te quiero over and over.   He remembered her going still and cold. 
42- THE LAST FIC I READ WAS calm you and anoint you (envy) by a_trick_or_two_with_lepers AND ABSOLUTELY. I LOVE IT. GO READ IT RIGHT NOW.
45- I OBVIOUSLY WANT TO BREAK MY READERS' HEARTS. IT IS MY LIFE'S MISSION. I NEED Y'ALL ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATED WHEN YOU'RE FINISHED WITH MY FICS
69- hmmm i'm always embarrassed when i post smut but i'm not really embarrassed that it exists. and the fics i were embarrassed about have long been deleted from the internet SO NOT REALLY ANY OF THEM I GUESS
74- if it's a fic posted in an obscure musical fandom about trauma and has my long-winded ass writing style, it's probably me :)
THANKS FOR THE ASK I HAD A LOT OF FUN ANSWERING THEMMM. ILYYY MWAH 💙
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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year
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2, 4, 17
I suppose you’re asking it for the writer ask game, so I’ll pretend I’m right.
2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?
Both? I mean, I have a vague idea for many chapters ahead and it gets more developed as I write.
For example, I knew since the beginning that Gabe would go to Tepet Muul in the fifteenth chapter of WBTL, but the scene where he finds the orb of questions was added only in the last stages of writing when I already started translating it. If I didn’t start writing this chapter, I probably wouldn't come up with this idea.
Another example is the latest chapter. Valerio and Matías were supposed to talk about Emilio at home, but instead Valerio invited Matías to the equestrian show which was one of the main storylines of that chapter. Again, if I didn’t start writing, there would be no equestrian show.
And if I remember I've written something else besides WBTL, I took the same approach for my Gabe and Francisco fic. Its entire structure (including Francisco taking care of the bushes, Gabe and Higgins having a fencing battle, and Gabe and Francisco's conversation) was planned ahead, but the core part of the fic aka the rose symbolism was added only during the writing process. I had no idea how I would make Francisco convince Gabe to teach Elena.
I cannot write with an absolutely empty head. But if I have a vague idea of one scene I want to include in the fic/next chapter, even if it’s extremely primitive, there’s a high chance of me developing it into entire concept.
I don’t write with a detailed plan yet my head is not totally empty either, so something in between, I suppose.
4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?
In my head? I rarely get inspired by any specific pieces of media because I’m simply not familiar with many and I prefer not to take inspiration from my own life experience, although the more I write, the more I notice I actually do it a lot, even if it’s rather subconscious.
I often get ideas out of thin air and cannot explain where they come from, even if they make a lot of sense and help me to fix many plot holes.
Some of those ideas are scout Gabe, Valerio and Emilio’s friendship, Emilio’s characterization in general, the hideout storyline which is basically the main one of the entire fic, and some others I cannot share now, since they contain major spoilers. When I get those ideas, I always think about them deeper and try to explain to myself why they make sense. This is just how my brain works, I suppose.
Anyway, if we’re being less vague, when it comes to Gabe, most of my ideas for him are inspired by canon. I analyze him a lot and have many, many headcanons for him, so it’s quite simple to write and develop his arc.
Sometimes I also find inspiration after rewatching EoA. Sometimes after chatting with my friends and reading reviews from the readers. My main writing project is a multi-chaptered fic, so I often get inspired by my own writing and develop more minor ideas I already have into something bigger. I never seek for inspiration, it just falls on me.
17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)
I… wait. I admit I used to be a more flexible writer who could write with no inspiration at all (not always, though). I would often force myself to write because I wanted to write but couldn’t. But it’s gotten quite difficult for me to do it in the past year. I suppose this is because of my life that’s gotten extremely busy in general and a lack of enthusiasm from the readers that wasn’t that noticeable to me until I got severely tired.
As I said, I rarely get inspired by the books, movies, TV shows, and so on, so it doesn’t really help me to fight my writer’s block or whatever I can call it. I just wait for the right moment when I feel like writing. I’m not prone to procrastination and if I want to do something, I (almost) always do it right away. When I get this urge for writing, I’ll write over five thousand words in one day and I’m not even joking.
Thank you for the ask!
Writer Ask Game in case anyone else is interested.
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ceoofmetagala · 1 year
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Hi! I wanted to leave this ask here regarding a few things I've noticed over time. First I want to say, I'm a big fan of your work. I really enjoy seeing your characters and the ship dynamics that you share with the Kirby community for Meta Knight and Galacta Knight. With this though, there was a recent post that raised a few concerns. You had mentioned your disgust for the galactadad tag since most people use it for tagging Galacta Knight as MK's father figure due to your main ship having them as lovers. I was a little worried based on your reaction to this as I'm sure you feel very strongly about this and I mean nothing but respect but... to say that people's work of this would be 'the worst art imaginable' simply because it doesn't align with your headcanons? It comes off as... emotionally immature to say you'd block people on that front alone rather than just accepting it as something existing in someone else's mind/world, and that you'd be "crying" about it. Like... there's a lot of amazing people here you'll be shutting the door on with no explanation other than them posting two characters as family instead of a couple. Again, no shade, but this did concern me as it felt a little over the top of a reaction. When something's not really a 'trigger' in the sense that it causes intense emotional harm, it's best to learn some sense of tolerance for minor things like this if you want to be more comfortable in online spaces; and you'll get to enjoy a lot more people's company as a result too. I mean that with nothing but love, but genuinely I almost unfollowed because of that visceral reaction on your end over something so minor. The other thing I wanted to address was just kind of a quick question; is there a particular reason you misspell every word when typing descriptions and tags? I'm not going to ask you to go into detail about this as of course it could be very personal/disability related, but this poses a problem in some regards, specifically when tagging censors and trigger warnings. This doesn't happen very often, but a few times you've reblogged or posted art that involved certain triggers, one of which was shown despite me having it blocked due to me not having it spelled exactly as your misspelling was. If it were a genuine misspelling I wouldn't be so upset because of course things happen, but every single post I've noticed you greatly misspell nearly every word to the extent it's almost illegible, so this is a common behavior of yours. All I'm really asking on this is that you please just take extra care when adding censor tags in the future, just a quick reread of them to make sure they'll function as intended. This also goes for if you have something important to say or tag as again, blocked tag/topics cannot autocorrect on our end. Like I said, I mean this with nothing but love and concern for your online interactions because I've been there myself with some of these things. I really don't want this to come off as negative, so please don't take this as an attack; I just wanted to address some things that I noticed in my time following you so that hopefully no future issues arise from them. Otherwise, keep having fun doing what you're doing and please take care. I'm excited to see more from you!
"emotionally immature" I'm 16 what the hell did you expect me to act like a whole adult?....did you forget one of the main stereotypes for teenagers is being emotional? Also this point was espiclly hurtful to me I know you probably don't know and didn't mean to but I have autsim (self diagnosed it took me . SO LONG to even consider this and even longer to accept I have tism) and it just. Came off like you were calling me stupid which you baislcy are it's also way more confusing to what I am to peoplw I am mature to some? Am I just childish WHAT AM I? But that's not really ur fault I've just wlays had my people pleasing tenadcies along with struggling to know who I am myself
Anyways on to all the points
-"worst art imaginable" not in a. Like the art is like technically bad(like bad at skill to draw. I can admit some are good or even AMAZING at drawing what they do) I mean in way to me in how it makes me feel way not that. Like how the art makes me FEEL. Not like if if look at it and they tell me based on skill what this i would do, it's good great even like the color! Or sosmthing stupid like that and if you ask me how it makes me feel I would do the same
-blocking people over just a hc or ship is fine I'm my eyes, it's the same as blocking someone over shipping metakirby or being a proshitter, proshitters think this was I think another at it's basic core soooo...im not saying they're proshitters however I'm just saying that to explain to you why I'm my opinion it's perfectly valid to blcok someone over a ship hc or bene fandom! It's that. They are NOWEHRE near as bad but it was the best example I could think of to explain why I do it.
If the hc or ship REALLY does make me TAHT uncomftbfle I think it's fair to block someone over it ?? I don't get this point at all like why would I actively make myself upset just for the chance to intrecat with some artist?
- also the usually amazing people I'm sure they nice and lovely they tend to post A LOT about it. So I block them to avoid them in the tags I don't tend to block as soon as I see meta to galactadad I just block when I see them too much
- anything can be a trigger over the slightest things I have a friend on Twitter who needs cookie run tagged because its genuilly a trigger for it same with another who hates kirby and eveurtime meow sees Kirby, he's filled with rage and it's for VERY good reason in my eyes and I am still great friends with meow regardless
-also I am making myself more comfortable 8n these spaces. I'm litterky curating my experience by blocking out what I don't like, they always say "block if you don't like" when it comes to ship or soemthin so like? Why not to hcs as well...i don't get this point I don't HAVE to like someone I can dislike someone for no reason right? So I can dislike an aspect of a person like that. Idk this point also doesn't make sense to me
- as for any particular reason, I just...do that? I have to PHYSICALLY force myself to type otherwise I don't know any cause it just started one day... Sorry about my rbs being intelligible I just ?? Get really excited and tend to forget to try to be atleast a bit normal(? Idk how to word that last part)
- as for trigger tags, I try my best to tag triggers properly but I don't know that I have to tag it for my audince or I don't think it's necessary I don't think I've ever misspled a trigger tag ? I have bad memory but I'll try my best to keep trigger tags spelled right
- and finally yeah I'll make sure to do that, i just need to know what tags you need well, tagged. I don't know who you are. You're anonymous?
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sortofanobsession · 2 years
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Will o’ the Wisp - Ch. 3 (Umbrella Academy WIP)
Author’s Note: Wow, this is long overdue but I finally got time to go over plot summaries, transcripts, etc. so that I wouldn't totally screw everything up hopefully. But I'm still here. Still trying, just dealing with a lot on my plate. Unbeta’d.
Please see chapter 1 for explanation of characters and character name details for Viktor. (again I am willing to take suggestions on this)
Minors DNI
So as it goes, Y/N = your name. Y/N/N = your nickname.  Reader pronouns She/Her.
Tag Requests are Open just message me.
Primary Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Female!Reader
Series Masterlist
Chapter 2, Chapter 4
Word count: 4k+
Content Warning: Canon typical neglect, manipulation, violence, death, depression, anxiety, fear, mentions torture
Chapter 3: Bail and Boiler Rooms
The faint glowing orb hovers just beyond Diego as he approaches a crime scene. She continues to follow him until he is busted by Patch. The image of him being tazed made her laugh, or she probably laughed. The Wisp couldn't exactly make verbal noises, and her body wasn't really her main focus. It was safe at the academy. She watches Patch take his radio and fake badge. With a sigh, Y/N didn’t let the orb fade as she pulled back most of her consciousness. She kept enough of her mind there to keep to the periphery of wherever her brother was. She was vaguely aware of how he’d seem to furrow his brow and glance in the light’s direction as he was moved. But she would shift the positioning every time and refocus on what she was doing in her primary form.
She didn’t need him drawing attention to the fact she was basically sneaking around, especially once at the precinct. She was basically trespassing. But it was technically not illegal. She knew physically she wasn’t trespassing, physically her body was at the academy. No one could prove what the lights were. Not like they could catch her. The Wisp technically didn’t have a corporeal form, especially when it was just a small fraction of her powers. She makes quick work of changing out of her pajamas and grabs her coat as she slips on her shoes. She doesn’t bother sneaking out like she would have done as a child. Her father wasn’t there to scold her. She glanced at Grace up in her little alcove as she made her way to the door. Allison and Luther wouldn’t care if she left. She didn’t need to leave a note or make excuses. She knew they cared for her, in their own way, but what did it matter in the long run? She was rarely there anyway. And really, was she even really mentally there now? If Grace or Pogo had noticed, she’d have told them, but they didn’t. It was like everyone was off in their own little worlds. Ones that were almost foreign to her now. She makes her way to the police station. She ignores the staring and hushed whispers. Especially when the glow around her seems to intensify for a moment as she lets the orb that had been watching over Diego fade and her powers settle into her form. She forced a sweet smile on her face at the double-take she got as she approached the desk sergeant on duty.  
“Umm, hi, I’m here to collect my idiot brother, Diego Hargreeves. Detective Patch-”
“Is right here,” a voice calls as the detective approached. “Wasn’t aware anyone made a call to his family to collect him.”
“They didn’t,” Y/N states. “I try to keep tabs on my siblings, and I’m not normally in town, but-”
“Y/N, right?” Patch says as she gestures for Y/N to follow her. 
“Yeah,” the last of the Hargreeves nodded. 
“Not exactly the sibling I figured would be the one to bail him out,” Patch admits.
“Sometimes I surprise even myself,” Y/N mumbles. 
“I read the book, you know,” Patch tells her as they approach the hallway to the holding cells. Patch doesn’t miss the way the glow around Diego’s sister flickers, and dims momentarily, as the glowing form lets out a dry chuckle. “Then I’m not surprised you think it’s odd I’m here.”
“Maybe,” Patch nods. “But family, Hargreeves or not, are often the ones to collect their wayward siblings from lock up. From what it sounds like, you’re not unfamiliar with the process.” 
Y/N snorts a laugh again. “I’m sure some poor desk sergeant or even hospital has my number stamped on a file for Klaus.”
“Always frustrating when they won't even help themselves, let alone let you help them,” Patch says somewhat vaguely as she signs a paper and gestures to an officer towards the holding cells. She waits until the guard opens the cell and calls Diego out. The glowing Hargreeves didn’t move into the hallway, instead choosing the lean on the wall beside the entryway. She can feel the exhaustion of the day deep in her bones. The strain of keeping the Wisp contained and dimmed to limit the awkwardness to those around her wasn’t helping. She takes a few seconds to mentally prep for dealing with whatever would come out of Diego’s mouth when he finds out she was there. She silently waits while her brother and the detective have a short talk. She pushes off the wall when she hears them approach. She steps closer to the hallway as they come into view. 
Patch gestures to Diego and tells her, “Well, this one is your problem now.” 
“Thanks, Detective,” the female Hargreeves nods. The detective leaves the siblings for what is bound to be an awkward reunion.
“I knew it!” Diego shouted when Patch was gone. Ignoring the way her shoulders immediately stiffen as she crosses her arms over her chest. “I knew I saw that demon light of yours.”
“Rude to say to the only sibling that bothered to bail you out,” Y/N grit her teeth and shook her head at his tone. “Your welcome, by the way.” Trying to mentally remind herself what Five had said, they needed to work together. 
“I didn’t ask for you to bail me out,” Diego seethes.
“And I didn’t ask if you cared,” she glares at him. “Because wow, shocker, you don’t. But Grace does, so again, you’re welcome.” 
“They would have let me go in the morning,” Diego states.
“And…you know what, yeah, they probably would have. But I told Five I would try, and-” She stops and rubs at her temples. She missed the confused look Diego gave her before he schooled his features. He had no idea that Five had asked her to do anything outside of what he’d told all of them. Let alone anything having to do with Diego. He eyed her cautiously as she continued. “It has been a very long day, and I forgot how exhausting trying to actually care for everyone is.”
“I didn’t-”
“I know, Diego, okay?” He watched as her shoulders dropped as she spoke. She looked tired. “I get it. You don’t need help. You don’t want help, especially from me,” she said, her tone almost as blue as the Wisp’s glow.
“That’s not–” he started to argue.
“Can we just go home?” She asks before flinching at her own choice of words. The academy wasn’t home anymore. Hadn’t been for years. And why was she asking him? Why did she even want to go back? Everyone she was used to caring for was gone. The ones that used to actually want her around or seek her out weren’t there. Not even Vanya said goodbye. Five was back, but he didn’t seem to have time for her. Ben’s statue was still broken and a painful reminder that no one was going to need her during the night. And she knew her siblings still felt unnerved by the Wisp these days. Or really at who she had become. What had changed? Nothing really. 
Diego watched as her brow furrowed, and she seemed to be arguing with herself. “Hold on-” 
“You can go home,” she says as she turns on her heels, she was too tired to argue with him anymore. “I’m going to go back to the academy. Try not to get arrested again. I would like to get a few hours of sleep.” 
She manages to catch a bit of sleep, but it was far from decent. And left pretty much to herself, she sat on the bed, back to the wall, and sent out her orbs. Pulling back one by one as she figured out where her siblings were. But something at the back of her mind still pushed her. So she pulls her focus back into her own body and goes to where she knows Diego lives. She uses her Wisp as a distraction as she enters the gym and sneaks her way into the boiler room he stays in. 
She is surprised when Luther finds her first. "Huh, not the brother I expected to see here," she states. 
"You here to see if he killed dad too?" Luther asks.
“What? No.” She shakes her head. "I'm here because he’s a self-destructive idiot who is going to get himself arrested again."
"For murder?" He asks for clarification. “Wait, again?”
“Yes again. And no, for impersonating a cop. As lovely as his detective friend is, I’m not sure she’ll be as happy to see me in such a short time span, even if it is to bail his ass out and get him out of her hair.”
“You bailed him out?” Luther says, shocked. “Diego. You bailed Diego out of jail.”
“I bail out Klaus all the time,” she states.
“But you like Klaus, and this is Diego we’re talking about.”
“You wouldn’t if called upon?” She tries to make this less about her. 
“He called you to bail him out?” He asks in utter disbelief. Diego hated her almost as much as he hated him. 
“Of course not, no one called me-” She realizes her slip-up as Luther’s eyebrow raises.
“Wait, no one called you to bail him out, and you did?”
“He’s still our brother, Luther,” her voice a bit quieter than it had been when she adds, “Even if he hates me.” 
“But how did you…wait, you didn’t-” Luther starts, but she is quick to change to the topic.
"Luther, do you really think he had something to do with our father's death?"
Again Luther goes to say something about the previous topic but remembers this was why he was there in the first place."Well, someone had to have done it, and Diego hated him and keeps insisting it was just heart failure."
"Because that is what the coroner’s report said. Pogo would have talked to the coroner as well. If this is some big cover-up by Diego, do you really think he’d have that power? He didn’t even have the power to not get arrested by Patch like yesterday. And for the record, we all hated Dad for something," she states.
"That's not true," Luther says.”Are you really defending Diego right now? You?”
"Luther, you are the only one that thinks that there was any good to Reginald Hargreeves. And I cannot imagine why even you think that. Luther, he left you on the moon, alone, for how long? He put you somewhere even I couldn’t find you. And I tried. Doesn’t that upset you?” She wanted to grab him by his oversized shoulders and shake him, but that seemed ridiculous, so she continued to argue her point. “Look at what he did to us, Luther. He pushed and encouraged Allison to rely on her powers so much that she now is struggling not to use them after they cost her her marriage and custody of her kid. He was downright cruel to Klaus, locking him alone in a dark crypt filled with ghosts until he passed out. He spent so many nights in my room just to survive the nightmares and hell our father made him endure. I spent so much of my life being his personal nightlight, and I will never forget those nights. Or regret them. Same for Ben. And look at Vanya. He treated Vanya terribly like she was no one. No, that implies he saw any of us as people. We were weapons, Luther. Tools. He used us. And do you even know what he did to me? I mean I know what he did to the others because I would watch it all. Just like I did yesterday. I send tiny little pieces of me out there,” she gestures to the world outside of them. “To look after all of you. Do you want to know why? Because Reginald Hargreeves pushed me to it. Got under my skin so that if I don’t know what is going on, then I’m weak. That if you, or them, get hurt it’s my fault for ignoring my gifts. I know he was doing it to not only keep tabs on everyone, to spy. And that wasn’t even half of what he did. Sometimes he pushed just to see how many Wisps I could create, control, and put myself into, knowing full well it not only left my actual body vulnerable, risked stretching myself so thin I might forget to breathe. He knew it messed with my head, my senses. Do you know how overwhelming it is to have your senses being attacked from every direction from multiple perspectives and your mind has to somehow process it all simultaneously while still attempting to fight and protect yourself? It was like my brain was on fire. It was overwhelming, and it hurt. But he still pushed. He’d tell me to move between them faster. Focus better. Fight harder." She shook her head. "And he still expected me to be at breakfast the next morning like my mind hadn't been broken apart and forced back together. Like my senses weren't screaming, overwhelmed, and overstimulated until I thought my head or sometimes my whole body would just explode. I know you cared for him, Luther, but most of us stopped caring for the sake of our sanity. I did. I know V did. And I’m pretty sure Diego did too."
"But you didn't kill him," Luther states.
"No, I didn't,” she replies, her tone even and sure. “Do you need my alibi?"
"No," Luther says. “Even if you let your emotions get the best of you sometimes, you’d have walked away, like in the courtyard. I mean, you haven’t killed Diego yet. That’s saying something. And Diego, well, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
"I haven’t killed you either, and the two of you destroyed Ben’s statue,” she counters.
“It was an accident,” he argues, “And I didn’t want any of that to happen. I just wanted Dad to have a memorial. Someone killed him, and no one seems to care but me!”
“The worst part of all of this is I do care, Luther. I do. I keep telling myself I shouldn’t, but I do. I just don’t see it, Luther. I’m sorry, but do you think dad would really go that easy? Like, without even the slightest fight? No defensive wounds? Diego is trained, but do you really think any of us are that good? This is the man that trained us beyond the point of exhaustion. That wanted us to keep training and fighting even after Ben died.” She turns to the massive form of her brother and made sure he was listening. “Did you stop to think that Dad didn’t want anyone to have his monocle? Maybe he did something with it. That he didn’t want to give Klaus the chance to sell it or give Diego the satisfaction of breaking it? Or maybe he lost it. He was old. I don’t know, Luther. Maybe it was someone, but there has to be an explanation that isn’t Diego killing him. As much of a pain in the ass I think Diego is, I don't think he did. And even if he was going to, which again, I don't think he would, it would have been as soon as you were on the moon and no longer in his way. I don’t think he’d have had the patience to wait this long." 
“Well, I’m still going to look around,” Luther says.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she waved him off. 
They settle into awkward silence. She had just trauma-dumped their childhood like she was recapping Vanya’s book and then practically spelled out the pain she didn’t let anyone see. It was almost to much for Luther’s mind to handle. So he focused on what he was there to do in the first place. He could deal with his sister later, right? She was never one he needed to worry about. She could fight like the best of them. Gave as good as she got. Sure, he knew she took the losses of their siblings hard. That was clear from the cold blue tone of her once-warm glow. But she would always seem to rally. She kept going. That was just how she was. Most of them were. He tried to shake off any doubt he had while he looks around. Though he did glance over at her as she sits down and summons a Wisp orb. The eerie blue was like the stories Pogo had originally told. Like its namesake. Her namesake. He goes back to looking as she starts shifting it between her hands as if it was a toy, a distraction. He was genuinely glad she had been using it when a knife darted through the air toward him, and she knocks it out of the air with the orb. 
"Hey!" Luther shouts. 
"I could smell you," Diego tells Luther as he makes his way down the stairs. "And she's about as subtle as a strobe light."
“You could have killed me,” Luther says with a glare.
“If I wanted you dead,” Diego replies, “You'd be dead.”
"Lovely to see you too, brother,” she says, not even bothering to stand up. “I see you managed to stay off the police radar since I left.” “You little-” Diego spat. “You never let me finish what I was saying. And why are you still spying on me? Dad’s dead. You don’t need to fill him in on what I do anymore.” 
"Oh please," she chuckles. "As if it was just you. Klaus knows I check in on him. A lot. Luther didn’t seem to care when I told him.” Luther opened his mouth to point out he hadn’t actually said anything like that, but she kept going. “And Klaus was with you. You just happened to be doing the more stupid thing between you two." She was absolutely not going to admit she was watching out for him, more so than the others. She’d take that to her grave if she had to. 
"I'm trying to figure out what is going on in this town. It can't be a-"
"Even if it isn't what do you think you can do about it? You're not a cop, Diego. Impersonating one will not end well. I bailed you out once already.”
“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO!” Diego actually shouts. Because she still wasn’t listening to him. It’s the same argument, just a different day. Luther actually flinched as the normally blue glow around her shifted to a heated red. Even her eyes started to change. But unlike before, or really any time he’d seen her eyes change, the Wisp was nowhere in sight. It was just her. He was starting to think when she said it made her feel like she might explode earlier, she wasn’t exaggerating. He was honestly glad her ire was at least not focused on him anymore. It was focused on Diego. He was starting to wonder how these two survived being at each other's throats all the time. Then again, Luther had also just heard her defend Diego. 
"I KNOW BECAUSE YOU HATE ME! I GET IT!" She screamed.
Diego started seeing red at that point, and it wasn’t just his sister’s heated powers. “YOU STILL AREN’T LISTENING! YOU NEVER DO! YOU-”
“Enough!” Luther says. “Whatever this is about, it can wait. Because you keep screaming at each other, one of two things is going to happen. One, people in the gym are going to notice and we all get kicked out. Or two, the Wisp is going set off the sprinklers, or melt something at least.” 
Neither Luther nor Diego missed the way the light around her nearly vanished. The rapid shift in lighting meant it took a second for their eyes to adjust. It was like someone threw a bucket of cold water on a campfire on a dark night.  
“Why are you even here?” Diego asks. “Both of you.”
“Why didn't you tell me?” Luther asks. 
“Tell you what?” Diego counters, annoyed at the vague nature of the question. 
“That you were fighting the night that Dad died,” Luther clarifies. “I checked with the guys out there.”
“Well, I shouldn't have to prove my innocence to you…” Diego states then glances at their sister. “Or anyone else in this family.”  
“Yeah,” Luther admits. “You're right. But, I just thought that…”
“Yeah. I know what you thought.”
“Do you think I would bail you out if I thought you killed Dad?” She asks once Luther is finished talking. She pulls her jacket tighter around her as the chill of such a temperature shift sets in. “Do you still have that little faith in me?” Her brothers both look at her. “Especially after Five asked me to talk to you.”
“Is that what all this is about, something Five saw?” Luther asks.
“What did Five ask you to do?” Diego asks, it's been a constant question in the back of his mind since she’d bailed him out and had mentioned him. 
“To get you to help him, to help us,” she admits.
“Is that why you’re being nice to him,” Luther gestures to Diego. “Because Five asked you to? That actually makes a lot more sense than-”
“You’re both assholes,” she tells them through clenched teeth before storming out.
“What just happened?” Diego looks at Luther. 
“Did she ever tell you that using her powers made her feel like her brain was on fire and that she might explode? Or that when she splits off into different Wisps, I guess it’s like having her brain scrambled and then trying to force it back into the shell?”
“What?” Diego just stares at him like he’d grown a second head.  
“Yeah, that was news to me too,” Luther says before going to follow her out. 
"Told you he didn't do it." Y/N says when Luther finally catches up to her. 
"So is it because of Five you’re defending him or what?"
"Yes and no. Yes, Five asked me to try and get everyone on the same page. Five thinks he might need our help. I’m not sure what for, but I guess I’m team prep. And no, because Diego might be an asshole, but he is still our brother, Luther. You’re still my brother, too."
“Do you usually use your powers to follow the others around?” Luther asks.
“Not usually, or at least for a while, I didn’t. I do it from time to time just to make sure everyone’s okay.”
“Even me?” Luther finally just asks.
“Well, I couldn’t reach the moon if that’s what you wanted to know. I mean, I’m not as powerful as the sun. Space is a bit too much for me. But before that, maybe once or twice, outside of Dad’s demands. You’re still my brother, and if I have to live with these stupid powers making me glow like a neon sign, I might as well use them to my advantage.”
“Two things. One, you said it hurts to do that, to split off and have all that stuff coming at your brain, so maybe don’t push. Phones exist, you know that, right?” Luther says. “Two, seems like an invasion of privacy.”
“Please don’t lecture me. I don’t do it much these days like that’s the first time since Vanya’s book came out I’ve followed anyone but Klaus.”
“Why Klaus?” 
“Because someone has to. He needs someone to look after him, and we all know he isn’t going to do it himself.”
“Maybe you coddle him too much.”
“You find your brother passed out in a drunk tank, or worse, unconscious on a dirty mattress in a flop house with no one around that cares, and try not to worry.”
“He’s that bad?” Luther asks.
“Yes, Luther. He can get that bad, and sometimes I don’t blame him. If I could take something, a drug, anything, that could make the Wisp vanish and not start glowing like the Vegas strip for a few hours, I would, but I can’t. If I could just leave the Wisp at home and go about my day, I would, but I can’t.”
“You tried that, didn’t you?” 
“Yeah, and the only way I can manage that distance is if I split my consciousness, and that’s more of a headache than any hangover.”
“Like your brains on fire, I got that.” Luther grumbles. “You’re not the only one that sticks out in a crowd now.” 
“I know, big guy, I know.”
“But maybe just give your brain a break. You don’t have to fry your brain because of us.”
She let out a sad laugh. “I’ll try, but being back at the academy, it’s like nothing changed. I just want to know that everyone is fine. And it's dumb because Diego is right. I started it because Dad made me. I don’t have to do this anymore. But my brain won't let it go. Like I can’t sleep.”
“Maybe we work on that,” Luther states.
“Maybe,” she sighs.
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jellyluchi · 2 years
Text
111 Self Ship Questions Part 1
questions from this (thanks to Kat @scary-monsters for reblogging the original post !!)
1-10 Basics
Who do you self-ship with? What’s your ship name together?
I selfship with Prosciutto (jojo). As in, Prosciutto from Jojo's bizarre adventure from part 5 golden wind/vento aureo/ougon no kaze. He's a minor antagonist from that part of the anime/manga. For the sake of simplicity, our ship name is ProSid. But I also like to use Ham Sandwich (because my self insert's name is Focaccia, Italian bread). And sometimes Heaven and Earth.
How long have you self-shipped with them?
I have shipped with him since September 2020, which makes it about 2 and a half years as of right now!
When did you get together in your shipping canon?
A year after my self insert joined his gang. It would have been a slow burn that lasted years but his team mates really pushed the relationship into becoming real. And because on Prosciutto's part, he didn't want to regret it as he could die on the job any time.
How did you meet?
Not a very good meeting... my insert got caught in a gang in fight and Prosciutto took the chance to knock me out and kidnap me to La Squadra's base... He needed the information my insert had and so used the opportunity.
When did you first know you loved each other?
Both of us were very much in denial of our interests in each other. For Prosciutto, he fussed over me a lot. Whether in general or for my training literally anything would get him a little riled up. He was harsh because that's how he showed love but it was obvious he was starting to not like it if I were upset, especially at him. His attachment was so strong he'd talk about me with the other members a bit too much and they started to notice and he finally accepted his feelings
I really didn't want to accept my feelings out of fear he doesn't feel the same way. But eventually I realized his smile and happiness is so important to me there's no way I couldn't be in love with him. No one really had to tell me I just realized the way my heart fluttered for him every single time must mean something because I don't usually feel this way about anyone.
Who made the first move?
Prosciutto! He asked me/my insert out after a lot of insistence from Pesci. He was actually quite nervous but pretended not to be, and even assumed perhaps because of our terrible first meeting and his harsh ways I wouldn't feel the same way. But I absolutely noticed that he treated me with more warmth than a lot of his team members.
What was your first date like?
It was a really sweet, in a nice restaurant that Prosciutto picked out for us. I could tell he's nervous but he was good at being chatty, and he was SO funny and a perfect gentleman. He told me about the foods that we ordered and was so attentive... I was already in love with him by the time we had our first date anyway... but seeing him so relaxed and having a bit of fun.. I really loved it. He kissed me goodnight at my door.
When did you first say “I love you” to each other?
Prosciutto said it while we were arguing about something. He got really heated about my safety and I carelessly asked why does it bother him so much he couldn't take it and just told me. While I said it when we had sex for the first time... I couldn't help not saying it when he was inside me....
What are the most important relationship events for you? Drop a timeline!
Oh boy! Basically... 1998: first met (meet ugly) 1999: got together 2001: Prosciutto (almost) died 2002: married 2003: child 1 2005: child 2
How extensive is your shipping canon?
Quite extensive! It spans several years and includes fankids.. the only thing missing really is key details. But the outline and general timeline of the shipping canon is complete!
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seriously-mike · 6 months
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Midjourney Is Full Of Shit
Last December, some guys from the IEEE newsletter, IEEE Spectrum whined about "plagiarism problem" in generative AI. No shit, guys, what did you expect?
But, let's get specific for a moment: they noticed that Midjourney generated very specific images from very general keywords like "dune movie 2021 trailer screencap" or "the matrix, 1999, screenshot from a movie". You'd expect that the outcome would be some kind of random clusterfuck making no sense. See for yourself:
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In most of the examples depicted, Midjourney takes the general composition of an existing image, which is interesting and troubling in its own right, but you can see that for example Thanos or Ellie were assembled from some other data. But the shot from Dune is too good. It's like you asked not Midjourney, but Google Images to pull it up.
Of course, when IEEE Spectrum started asking Midjourney uncomfortable questions, they got huffy and banned the researchers from the service. Great going, you dumb fucks, you're just proving yourself guilty here. But anyway, I tried the exact same set of keywords for the Matrix one, minus Midjourney-specific commands, in Stable Diffusion (setting aspect ratio given in the MJ prompt as well). I tried four or five different data models to be sure, including LAION's useless base models for SD 1.5. I got... things like this.
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It's certainly curious, for the lack of a better word. Generated by one of newer SDXL models that apparently has several concepts related to The Matrix defined, like the color palette, digital patterns, bald people and leather coats. But none of the attempts, using none of the models, got anywhere near the quality or similarity to the real thing as Midjourney output. I got male characters with Neo hair but no similarity to Keanu Reeves whatsoever. I got weird blends of Neo and Trinity. I got multiplied low-detail Neo figures on black and green digital pattern background. I got high-resolution fucky hands from an user-built SDXL model, a scenario that should be highly unlikely. It's as if the data models were confused by the lack of a solid description of even the basics. So how does Midjourney avoid it?
IEEE Spectrum was more focused on crying over the obvious fact that the data models for all the fucking image generators out there were originally put together in a quick and dirty way that flagrantly disregarded intellectual property laws and weren't cleared and sanitized for public use. But what I want to know is the technical side: how the fuck Midjourney pulls an actual high-resolution screenshot from its database and keeps iterating on it without any deviation until it produces an exact copy? This should be impossible with only a few generic keywords, even treated as a group as I noticed Midjourney doing a few months ago. As you can see, Stable Diffusion is tripping absolute motherfucking balls in such a scenario, most probably due to having a lot of images described with those keywords and trying to fit elements of them into the output image. But, you can pull up Stable Diffusion's code and research papers any time if you wish. Midjourney violently refuses to reveal the inner workings of their algorithm - probably less because it's so state-of-the-art that it recreates existing images without distortions and more because recreating existing images exactly is some extra function coded outside of the main algorithm and aimed at reeling in more schmucks and their dollars. Otherwise, there wouldn't be that much of a quality jump between movie screenshots and original concepts that just fall apart into a pile of blorpy bits. Even more coherent images like the grocery store aisle still bear minor but noticeable imperfections caused by having the input images pounded into the mathemagical fairy dust of random noise. But the faces of Dora Milaje in the Infinity War screenshot recreations don't devolve into rounded, fractal blorps despite their low resolution. Tubes from nasal plugs in the Dune shot run like they should and don't get tangled with the hairlines and stitches on the hood. This has to be some kind of scam, some trick to serve the customers hot images they want and not the predictable train wrecks. And the reason is fairly transparent: money. Rig the game, turn people into unwitting shills, fleece the schmucks as they run to you with their money hoping that they'll always get something as good as the handful of rigged results.
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🛠️🤡🥺🧐🎶
Hey Tina thank you for the ask <3333333333
🛠 What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?
I use Scrivener (a paid app; it's a one-time purchase of about 50$, a bit less for students). I really like it because it lets me keep my entire WIP in one place while still separating it into parts that I can easily switch between. I can also have folders in a project that aren't a part of the draft which is where I put my large outline for instance.
(Spoiler-ish for ILTY chapter 3)
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The window looks like this, and it's just really nice how I can have my chapter outline on the right to not lose sight of where I'm going and also with one click navigate to older chapters to double-check something to make sure I'm maintaining continuity lol. Also, I like that it's always showing me the word count (but MS Word has more recently added that feature, so). I'm just a lot more comfortable here than in Office tbh and like not having to deal with specific pages (though I can set it in page view, which I do sometimes to find out how many pages the whole story would be lol).
Also, one time I tried drawing a character arc overview on my iPad but I haven't really been using it in the end lol.
It looks like this (slight spoilers for ILTY chapters 4-8, I cropped out unpublished stuff; if you've read that far [and can read my handwriting], you'll notice I didn't actually incorporate all of these things lol)
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Legend: Green is John, blue is Paul, purple is George, pink is Cyn, red is Ringo,* yellow is just actual dates with specific events, white is the relevant chapter title.
*based off their actual stated favourite colours (from those Beatles trading cards lmao). Feel bad about making Cyn pink; it's not cause Girl! it's cause it fit into my colour scheme LOL.
Anyways, as you can tell I am very normal about my fic writing sdfhdsfgklhdfsklgdfhskjldfs.
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?
I'm probably the only one who finds this really funny but I love it when Paul explains music with word salad.
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Also every time I write Jane literally NOT giving a shit about the John-centric plot, I almost can't deal. She's my comedienne.
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?
I'm a huge softie for any type of tender interactions, especially with Julian tbh. I just like calm moments when characters just share a little moment and smile at each other. Even if the overall story gets very bleak I can't help but weave in a short scene like that from time to time, which to me feels very realistic. That's what Get Back is after all! 🥹🥹🥹
🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?
YES. I literally wasted my entire Friday morning commute trying to figure out the most minor of details about flights in the 60s. If I think it's verifiable, I will try to verify it and sometimes waste upwards of an hour on tiny trivialities. Worst time was when I was gonna describe Lennon-McCartney as going together "like cream and coffee" and tried to confirm they definitely actually liked coffee so that the comparison felt true to the atmosphere 😭😭😭
But I also like the extreme research because it kind of forces me to gain more knowledge about this band and their time period with regards to aspects I wouldn't think to research otherwise!
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
Sometimes! Usually I don't but it happens; I tend not to if I'm on the train cause there's already a lot of distracting stimuli going on, but I might at home. I'm often thinking about my current chapter's song and listening to it when I'm not actually writing, though. Each chapter is an entire mini musical phase tbh. So I've been listening a lot to the next chapter's song, which is [SPOILER, though you can figure it out if you look hard enough >:)].
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