#just know i’ve been Thinking with a capital t | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

claraswritings · 3 months ago

Note

Luca and R go back to ever for the funeral and she’s pregnant and they’re married, maybe everyone knew he had a thing for her back then?

Awww, I love soft/fluffy Luca. I love that he’s a tall, blonde, tattooed, mentally stable man who can cook so in my head I’ve just decided ‘aha he is my perfect man. Gimme’

ALSO SOMEONE GIVE HIM A LAST NAME 😭 And make it cute. I’m terrible with making up names.

You placed one hand over your stomach some what self consciously, wondering if the dress was flattering against your bump.

“Do I look pregnant or do I just look like I’ve ate a whole cake?” You asked Luca quietly, you were half joking but still getting used to it. Your baby bump was small but still noticeable against the floaty material of your black dress. He loved seeing you pregnant, he thought you were always beautiful but knowing you had his baby in you just exemplified that tenfold.

“I think people might guess there’s my little baby in there but…” he paused, Luca linked your hand with his and lifted it to kiss. “But….you are married to a pastry chef darling, so I’d be offended if you weren’t eating cakes. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room either way, my love”

You smiled and stood on tiptoes to get closer and Luca leant down and kissed you softly, hands instantly balancing you around your waist to support you.

“I’m married to the best pastry chef.” You smiled, muttering a compliment against his lips.

“The best, eh?” Luca asked “that’s high praise”

“The best.” You reiterated with a nod.

“How’d you come to that conclusion, love?” He rose an eyebrow, waiting for your response, teasing but enjoying how much you liked his baking.

“Well…” you started “I have a theory…”

Luca bent down to kiss you again, moving a hand around to hold your small bump. “Go on?”

“You’re the pastry chef at the best restaurant…in the capital of the country known for pastries. Therefore you’re the best.”

He laughed “Can’t argue with that flawless logic.”

“You can’t argue with your pregnant wife anyway. Its against…the law in every country” you tease “you knocked me up…you have to agree with me”

There was a moment of silence before.

“I love you so much.” Luca said softly and pulled you in closer to him for another gentle kiss.

You carried on, you on tiptoes pressing soft kisses to his lips in the quiet hallway of a restaurant. Something about it felt a little teenage, stealing kisses at a ‘funeral’, even though you were both well past your teens.

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips.

You carried on like this, a few gentle kisses before a cough sounded and you separated again like teenagers rather than a grown married couple.

“Luca?” followed by your name.

Carmy hadn’t changed. He still had the same wide blue eyes and curly hair.

“You…you two got together then huh?” He said looking between the two of you,

He’d always been kind of quietly intense. You’d put it down to just single track focus with perfecting whatever dish being his only goal. He was, of course, the best at what he did. Today he looked like his mind was elsewhere.

“And you’re…you’re pregnant? You’re having a baby?”

Nodding you smiled.

“Wow…um, congratulations” he offered Luca and handshake which Luca, being ever friendly turned into a hug before he did the same with you.

“I did sometimes wonder why you weren’t together earlier yknow,” Carmy said “Luca always…I thought you were together already from way he talked about you…”

“We got there eventually… took the long way around” you joked, a reference to how you and Luca had been close friends for well over a decade before you’d both confessed your feelings as more than friendship.

“How’s the restaurant?” You asked.

Carmy’s pastry chef Marcus had visited Copenhagen last year. He and Luca had stayed in touch but you were interested to hear from Carmy himself.

“It’s…uh…it’s going.” He nodded, his mind looking elsewhere “you two should come in. On the house of course”

Luca grinned “We’d love to, mate. Would be great to see how Marcus is getting on too. I have this brilliant new technique for glazed creme he’d love.”

That was something you loved so much about Luca. He was so patient, so kind, so willing to share ideas. The fact he was excited about getting to talk techniques with a friend was so…sweet to you. Your lovely pastry nerd. You smiled up at him and then let the two of them catch up for a few minutes, wandering off to board full of photos to look. It wouldn’t be long before you felt Luca’s arm around you.

“I always thought he fancied you.” Luca commented, he leant down for a kiss, having said he’d see his friend inside.

“Carmen?” You laughed “I don’t think he did.”

“Oh he did. Remember when he came to visit us? In Copenhagen? Before we were together?” Luca held you close to him as you nodded. “I kept thinking he’d steal you away…”

Luca’s tone was light but you could tell there was a hint of insecurity there. You’d been there when they’d first worked together and Luca had found himself second best in a lot of things. It had been tough on him, lots of ranting and late nights and obsessing until he’d opted to learn from Carmy rather than force a competition.

Eventually Luca got better and better and they found different culinary paths which eased a lot of the tension however of it still lingered a little when it came to you.

“No one ever could.” You said to him. “I was yours even before I was yours”

“I thought he was trying with his lamb, juniper and sea herbs dish” Luca whispered to you half jokingly, reassured by your emphatic words.

You laughed thinking back to one evening when Carmy had cooked for you all and then looked up to Luca, staring up at him “Yeah, It was delicious…but you know I’m a dessert girl.”

“I know you are.” Luca grinned and leant down to kiss you once again. “Because you’re my girl”

After a few seconds it clicked.

“Wait…Is that why you bought me the L?” You rose an eyebrow, looking down at the little silver L necklace that Luca had bought you a few weeks ago. “The wedding rings and the matching initial tattoos not enough? The baby bump?” She joked.

Luca could feel himself going a bit pink but kissed you anyway “maybe…” he hummed “but you like the L”

“I love the L” you replied

“And I love you” Luca grinned and your hands couldn’t help find the way to hook the little L out of the neckline of your shirt.

****

“And you’re head pastry chef at Noma, Luca? That passionfruit and kiwi dessert there was the best I’ve ever had!” One chef complimented Luca and you felt the pride swell as he thanked the man

“Thank you, it was a real labour of love, see the inspiration behind the passionfruit and kiwi is my wife.” He squeezed your thigh “she had this incredible passionfruit mousse in Aalborg when we went to celebrate the baby and she loves kiwi so I thought I’d make this curd that’s…”

God he was cute when he went on.

“Luca! Did I just overhear you refer to this lovely lady as your wife?” Chef Terry, or rather Andrea, asked “And you’re pregnant?”

Luca met his former mentors eyes and nodded equally as enthusiastic about you and the baby as he had been about breaking down his dessert. “Yes Chef Te- Andrea, we got married six months ago and baby is three months.”

“How exciting! Do you know the sex?”

“Not yet, Luca is getting one of his chefs to bake us a cake and we’ll cut it on the boat just the two of us” you explained. “We’re so excited”

“Well that sounds lovely” Andrea smiled “Have you got any inklings?”

You put a hand over your small bump “I don’t mind. I think it’ll be a boy…but as long as it has Luca’s eyes…and my football team” you joked.

“Ah…” Luca went to protest only for you to gently place a hand over his thigh. It was a playful argument you’d had about four times already.

“Luca, babe… when you birth the baby, then you can pick their team.” You teased back in the way you always had.

He cocked his head and gives you a wry grin, conceding you’d made a good point “Or we can have a second?” Luca lifted his hand from your thigh and lifted it to cup your jaw, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“Maybe…” you teased “Let’s let baby come out first before we start planning the second.”

“Love, I’m already planning the third” Luca pecked your lips once more before dropping his hand to hold yours over the table.

He wanted three. He’s always wanted three. You’d be happy with two but feel like if they have his beautiful eyes and soft blonde curls, you won’t be able to say no to three. Secretly you hoped they did.

“You two are adorable. I always knew he liked you as more than a friend” Another woman, older this time says.

“When did it click?” Andrea asked interested “Was it when he made that whole collection of nostalgia desserts for you? Those really were special Luca, I think that’s when we all realised how truly creative you were at pastry. That was one of the most cohesive projects one of my chefs has ever done��

Luca smiled, thanking his former mentor again.

“Remember when he kept his hair longer for well over a year because she called that little black hairband cute?” Another chef commented. “Or when he made the discontinued chocolate bar as a fancy dessert for her? Remember how late he stayed? Folding wafer?”

Luca was going redder and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. Deciding to spare his blushes, you spoke up.

“Hey if anyone should be embarrassed it’s me” you quickly said “I had this gorgeous man completely in love with me and I didn’t even realise! I was just like that’s Luca, he’s just so lovely.”

Luca gave your hand another squeeze as a silent thank you.

“You were worth the wait” he looked at you causing someone to ‘aww’.

“So were you”

“Maybe you’re both idiots” someone else chimed in breaking the tension and causing a laugh.

“And clearly the two of you caught up quick. Married and baby on the way after what? Eighteen months?” The older woman asked again.

“Sixteen” you said quickly. “But he’s been my best friend for years before that so…”

“Best friend is light. She always been my greatest inspiration and the love of my life” Luca lifted your hand and kissed it.

Luca was the love of your life. And you’d never been happier.

#luca the bear x reader #chef luca imagine #chef luca x reader #luca the bear imagine #the bear x reader #luca x reader #Luca the bear #chef luca #chef luca fanfiction #chef luca fic

114 notes · View notes

lulublack90 · 8 months ago

Text

Prompt 22 - Roommate AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 22, word count 938

CW - Pandora jokes about Remus getting murdered and dismembered.

Moving countries was scary. Moving to the capital city seemed scarier. Remus left his childhood home in the Welsh countryside and clambered onto the bus that would take him to London.

He’d wanted to move for years but had always been too scared. His parents had instilled in him how dangerous it would be for him not to know anyone for hundreds of miles.

One morning, while he was munching on his cornflakes, he noticed an ad in his father’s newspaper.

‘Roommate Wanted!

All bills are paid. Just pay for your own food.

Sexy, well-bred male looking for a friend/companion to share a house in a highly sought-after area of London.

Please use the number below to apply. Please, serious enquiries only. No, this is not a joke.

P.S. Must love Bowie, or we’re not going to get along.’

Remus quickly put his breakfast things away and, grabbing his phone, fled outside, typing the number into his phone as he went.

He settled under his favourite tree and pressed call.

“Hello,” A husky voice answered.

“Oi, hi. My name is Remus Lupin, and I—” He started to explain.

“Look, mate. I don’t know what you’re selling, but calling me at this ungodly hour is unacceptable. Goodbye.”

“Wait- wait. I’m not selling anything. I’m phoning about your ad!” Remus hurriedly spoke before the man could hang up.

“Oh, in that case. Hello, I’m Sirius.” Sirius suddenly sounded a lot more cheerful. “So why do you want to be my roommate?”

“Well, erm. I’ve always wanted to move to London, but I’ve been a bit worried about living there on my own.” He told Sirius, deciding the truth would be best.

“Uhuh, uhuh. Anything else?” Sirius sounded a bit bored. Remus knew he was screwing this up.

“I’m clean and tidy and don’t make much noise. I have enough money saved to pay my way—” Sirius cut him off again.

“All the bills are paid for. You only need to get yourself food.” Remus nodded even though Sirius couldn’t see him.

“Oh, right. I wasn’t sure if that bit was true. Erm, I don’t have a job yet, but I’ll start looking straight away.”

“Remus, I’m gonna stop you there. I don’t think we’re going to be a good fit. I can already tell you are the complete opposite of me. No offence, but you sound like you go to bed early and like nothing more than to sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate and reading a good book.” Sirius said honestly. He wasn’t wrong. What Sirius had just described was his usual evening routine. He had to think of something compelling to change Sirius’s mind.

“I have every David Bowie vinyl.” He blurted out.

“Really?” Sirius sounded excited now.

“Yeah, yeah, and I don’t know how you feel about T. Rex, but I have all there’s as well, and Led Zeppelin and loads of others.” All he could hear was the slight buzzing from the phones as the line went silent.

“Alright, Remus Lupin, you’ve twisted my leg. You’re the only person who’s called so far that I’ve actually managed to tolerate for more than ten seconds. So, let’s give it a go. When can you move in?” Remus sat there in shock.

“Really? You want me?”

“Sure, why not? The room’s all set up just need to bring some clothes and whatnot. I’ll text you the address, and you can let me know when you want to come. If you find it’s not for you, you can move out whenever you like. That sound okay?” Sirius spoke quickly, but Remus managed to make out all the words.

“Sounds brilliant. I’ll make arrangements and then give you a date.”

“Grand. Oh, and Remus, I really hope it works out.” With that, Sirius hung up, and Remus was left reeling.

“Oh, you’re totally getting murdered.” Pandora, his best friend, snorted when he told her he was moving to London and what the ad had said.

“No, I’m not. Sirius seems really nice.”

“Oh, sweet baby, you are so getting chopped into little bits and placed around London to look like a smiley face or something.” She’d clapped her hands together and jumped up and down on the spot.

“Gee, thanks, Pan. Love the confidence there.” He rolled his eyes and pushed down the panic that her words could actually turn out to be very true.

The bus was packed with holidayers, commuters and everything in between. Remus was glad of his noise-cancelling headphones and his favourite book. In a couple of hours, he’d be starting his new life. Everything he owned was in the compartment under the bus and was surprisingly little.

London was busier than he had ever imagined, coming from a tiny village. The noise and smells were overpowering. He got the tube from Victoria next to the coach station and rode it up to Islington.

He followed Sirius’s directions through a beautiful, tidy neighbourhood. Remus walked past a picturesque park and found the house. Number 12 Grimmauld Place loomed above him. It was far grander than he’d imagined. He walked up the front steps and used the heavy serpentine brass knocker. It thudded loudly against the wooden door. He heard scrabbling on the other side before a heavy lock clunked, and the door swung open to reveal the most beautiful man Remus had ever seen, flipping his long black hair out of his face.

“Remus?!” Sirius exclaimed joyfully. Oh boy, Remus was in trouble. He reached his hand out and shook Sirius’s before following him into the house, closing the heavy door behind him.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar au #wolfstar fic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #pandora lovegood #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #we're going to london #makes zero sense to me why but hey ho #don't answer weird ads guys #pandoras would probably be right if this was real life #cw pandora jokes about Remus getting murdered and dismembered.#roommate AU

127 notes · View notes

wooeo · 6 months ago

Note

i forgot to put the tiktok link on my last ask incase you didn’t see the video of kai, so here it is: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPREak1wH/

also i’ve been trying to write some thoughts about sunoo and wonie since they’re my biases but damn it’s so much harder to write for them, for some reason lmao. same with hoon, jake, and hee. the easiest to write for are ni-ki and jay <3 idk why tho

here are some hcs that i did come up with after spending so long on them:

• yk how there’s duo brand partners? ex: heejay, jakehoon, wonki. enha girlie in a duo brand deal with sunoo!!!!!!!!!

• (name) rejecting all solo brand deals until one with sunoo was sent <3

• whenever (name) & sun are next to each other, they’re never not interlocking their arms & chatting in their own world

• jungwon and girlie going on late night walks together and one day finding a secret spot to chill

• that one spot is now their special hiding place, that not even the other members know about. they do hear about it tho and are like “wtf why aren’t we allowed to know?”

• won: “i asked if any of you would like to come take a walk with me but you said no soooooo :/ “ losers weepers ig

• i saw a video of cha eunwoo brushing off an eyelash that was on somi’s cheek. i think that’s so sunghoon and heeseung coded!!!

• they would turn to face (name), turn back but then do a double take and brush off a stray eyelash off for her

• or fix them if one seemed about to droop down and poke girlie’s eye

• i feel like jake would do something similar too but like with fixing (name)’s clothes instead? or brushing her off after they had to sit on ground for an en o’clock ep

• like patting off imagery dirt or actual dirt if they were outside. idk how explain it properly, so i hope yk what i mean 😔

• whenever girlie is accidentally in the way of something or someone, jake pulls her to his chest and says something like “careful, love” in english

link to eunwoo and somi clip: https://youtu.be/5Qh0zLfUxhw?si=1mJPG61HbbFDY4rN

timestamp: 1:55. the video randomly popped up on my recs after watching astro trying to catch a bug lmfao

- 🔮

🔮 anon.... your mind.... its so big and juicy....

i hadn't seen the video of kai so thank u for that 😭 in front of all those fine ass women 😭😭 i won't touch on everything you said 😋

i don't think you'd reject all form solo brand deals, don't think h*be would let you tbh — they're taking any and all chances to capitalize off of you. but !! you're so much happier when you're doing a brand deal with sunoo! also your face cards side by side ?? crazy. absolutely decked out in gorgeous jewelry and clothing lord,,,, you and sunoo is an insane iconic visual duo like,, we all croed 💔

the hiding spot with jungwon is so cute omg ,, imagine its like a small back alley cafe where theres next to no one so its all quiet and you sit and walk for hours 😭💔 turning off your location so the other boys can't track you and interrupt lmfao. like you love your boys but they're so loud all the time and its nice talking to jungwon, praising him for his hard work and him being flustered and praising you in return 😭😭

heeseung and sunghoon take care of you in quiet ways,, fixing your hair, your clothes, if you have a stray eyelash *sniffle sniffle* they're so careful and never say anything about it, they just do it quietly and move on *sniffle* and jake *sniffle* "careful now," what if i die

#return to 🔮#ask #enhypen

39 notes · View notes

corviisquire · 10 months ago

Text

I’ve read the comments on my post abt soulsborne sleep token thing! Here’s some concept art I tried. More is on the way just… HW ew. Tagging people who were interested/encouraging this idea: @sleep-token @wingedinsect @moonchild-in-blue @foundationsofdecay @madsthenightowl @a-s-levynn

Undercut is me mindlessly rambling about what’s going on in my brain about this. Don’t read unless you like torturing yourself with reading.

I guess to start, I have only played Elden Ring (crucible knight more like crucible kill yours-IM JOKING), I’ve watched some lore videos on Elden Ring Bloodborne and DS1, haven’t played DS1 yet, and have all the art books except DS2 (cause nobody likes DS2). I’ve played very limited DND games. I’ve read lots of weaponry wiki pages but I have bad memory. If any information I say below is incorrect (like I say this sword is two-handed but it’s not or I misspell spauldor… spalder? Spauldron?) please correct me. I’m just using information I know and I’m always open to suggestions and feedback!

Random Lore Bits: Sleep and the Whale lived in peace but Sleep was always the higher deity. It created all that lives on the land and the TMBTE creatures. Sleep had many worhsippers but Vessel and the rest stood out. They were appointed as the highest knights of sleep. Vessel always had Sleep’s favor and therefore became Sleep’s vessel. Confusing I’m aware lmao. Sleep and Whale became enemies somehow and Sleep injured the whale, causing it to die. This time period before the Whale’s death was called Eden. NPCs speak of Eden all the time about how, “Peace and day has never been restored since Eden” “Eden is over” “If the whale were here, Eden would still be here”. All followers of Sleep become corrupt.

Bosses: Once killed, all bosses turn into statues and have branches grow out of them. They aren’t dead, just dormant. You can fight them again but returning to their fight area and making an offering of a certain amount of tokens. Once defeated again they return to being dormant. If you defeat all resurrected bosses (fought each one twice) you get smth called a Talisman of Blood (important later).

Regular enemies: Idk skeletons???? Giant birds??? Snakes???? Giant insectoids Idk bro???

Location: Like Elden Ring lands between, it’s called Fields of Elation. The capital city is either Nazareth or Jericho. I’ll try to incorporate Calcutta somehow. Geography is a mix of frigid coast, deep dark forest, large cavernous cave strictures, old ruined castles with mysterious rusty machinery inside, sparatic temples to sleep (all whale temples were destroyed), and the remnants of towns. Large trade road that goes through the entirety of the land is called the Path of Reason??? Idk bro I’m spitballing.

Currency: Tokens. Killing enemies and bosses earns you large amounts of tokens and like how runes work, you can level up you and your armaments with them.

Waypoints: Sites of grace, bonfires, more like RITUALS (I am not funny). I think calling waypoints rituals makes sense.

Flasks HP/FP: Estus Flask, Flask of Crimson/Cruelean Tears…. How about Flssk of H I G H W A T E R. Nah I’m kidding. No idea! Suggestions are open! I’m reading lyrics and nothings jumping out.

Incantations/Spells: Can be equipped to magic armaments and weapons! Kinda like you can choose between spell sword or just being a wizard.

Player Character: Tarnished, undead, hunter…. No idea what to call them. Robes and garments Very inspired by TPWBYT. Thinking the whale was an ancient god defeated by Sleep. Player Character is gifted with a certain power of the whale and was resurrected to defeat Sleep. Game opens with epic cutscene and player charter emerges from a cavern (TLYW) and goes through it before finding themselves on the coast of a freezing raging sea and an inviting forest. There’s probably one class you play as cause I’m lazy and you just collect armor and new weapons on the journey. TLYW style robes with greaves, hood, and gauntlets. Basic longsword.

Vessel: I’ve read the feedback and I agree that staff needs to stay. Live laugh staff. I’ve seen a few Elden ring builds where it’s right armament is staff for casting the long range stuff and left armament is a short sword, miséricorde (mercy dagger), scimitar(?), or other various short weapons. I like the image of this because I imagine him having somewhat light armor so if you’re far away, he spell. If you’re close, he stab. Spells are gonna be red. Change my mind. I like the Elden Ring boss Maliketh’s magic attacks so I imagine something like that. I imagine his boss fight starts with epic cut scene with him kneeled in a big arching cathedral temple type place and he’s like, “you seek to defeat the vessel of Sleep, foolish warrior? I have not known defeat against those of the sea nor those of Sleep” or some crazy bs like that. Half health, hands of Sleep show up and swipe and grab and Player Character. Just giant spindly hands that appear and float around. Attempts to break away form Sleep control but fails so that why he evil >:}

II: Dual wielding… what? No idea. I want him to dual wild some sort of straight weapon cause like drumsticks but honestly… sickles are so badass… Med. to light armor so he can move around a lot. Some sort of helmet with feather Mohawk. Boss area is probably in a fort outside of the main city. Just you and this guy. Get ready for a stamina check.

III: I’m torn between frenzied flame/black flame style magic user or spell sword. If magic, light armor. If spell sword, med. armor. Boss fight in a large old temple, candlelit and torn tapestries everywhere. Better have some fire immunity talismans on you.

IV: Halbert. All the way. Heavy armor my guy. Idk not much to say. Thinking banished knight ornstein inspo?? Boss fight Outside the gates to Vessel/Sleep’s castle. Vigor check time!!!

Chokehold: large dark cavern with webs strung about. It appears from above like, “A traitor to Sleep, hm? Pity. You seemed like you would be a good asset to the Vessel’s artillery.” Big axe time. High HP high strength boss. Vulnerable spot is probably its stomach area. Gives you armor, weapon, talisman, and incantation “Branches in a Flood” (roots sprout from the ground and entangle enemy).

The Summoning: Player probably stumbles upon the fight after meeting Aqua Regia and Granite. Mean killing machine. Idk what else to say erm… maybe player interacts with a sleep token symbol on a pillar with runes and it summons (pun intended) the summoning creature??? Stonehenge lookin boss area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Granite: Relatively peaceful NPC. Dialogue options are cool and it probably raises stats and alters your armaments. Quest line ends with Granite maybe just becoming dormant or it becomes a member of sleep again and sad boss fight initiates. Drops its armor, axes, root/weed talisman that increases stamina and immunity.

Aqua Regia: Chill and never ends in boss fight. Probably lets you summon them during other boss fights. Spear and sword. Gifts you new armor and talismans. Quest line maybe ends with them becoming too weak to keep battling and becomes dormsnt. You get their armor, spear, sword, rose talisman that raises FP, and a spell/incantation that shoots gold acid rays called Gold Rush or smth similar (Like Aqua Regia? Get it?)

Vore: Awesome boss. Inflicts poison damage for sure. I think we can all imagine how fighting Vore would be. In a poison lake haha it wants you to suffer. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Ascensionism: Swords swords swords. Pulls a Starscourge Radahn and turns a meteor and player has to dodge lmao (cause yk ascending). Boss area is probably in a giant colosseum that’s old and crumbling. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Are You Really Okay?: Player character pulls a stupid and decides to touch and inspect the strange incubator with a fetus inside and AYRO appears and is like “DONT TOUCH MY CHILD” initiate boss fight. Small castle is the boss fight area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

The Apparition: Big guy, big hammer. Boss fight is somewhere in a forest clearing. No other ideas for it. Drops weapons, armor, talisman, incantations like everyone else.

DYWTYLM: Chokehold but with tiny dagger and looks like a giant engine. Probably shoots fire from the pipes on its body? Chokehold is PISSED if you defeat this guy first. Brothers fr fr. Boss fight in an old building filled with machinery. Speed is low but HP is super high. Drops armor, weapons, incantations, and talisman.

Rain: Your magic immunity better be HIGH. Renala style fight: Crazy hits, bad defense. Probably drops some crazy cool incantations, armor (really bad armor), and a talisman of fire immunity and raises your FP. Boss fight area is in a shiny crystaly forest area surrounded by weeping willow/wisteria like trees.

Take Me Back To Eden: The last boss before Vessel. Killer fight. Armor is also fire??? Difficult but probably super dope. Boss fight is in a SUPER large hallway in the castle of Sleep. Drops weapons, armor, talisman of resistance against airborne attacks.

Euclid: NPC that’s probably cranky and hesitant to befriend you at first. Still a follower of Sleep but respects the players fate to defeat the sleepmiester (I’m so tired bro—). Might fight you idk.Once dormant, drops and old mask of Vessel, a few incantations, and armor.

Endings: Endings one: You defeat vessel, sleep becomes dormant and no gods rule over the land. Creatures and vessels are resurrected. Endings 2: You defeat vessel and become the new Vessel of Sleep. No difference from first ending, you just chose if ya wanna be evil or not. Endings 3: If you acquire the Talisman of Blood, Sleep sees you worthy to fight them without using a vessel. Radagon Elden Beast situation. When you defeat sleep, the whale is resurrected.

#art #my art #creature #sleep token #soulsborne sleep token

62 notes · View notes

coolepowersthings · 1 year ago

Text

Always Girl

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Benedict have been best friends since college. Every year, they watch romcoms together on Valentine’s Day. But this year might not go as planned… modern au

Warnings: NSFW 18+, sexual content, consensual sex.

Authors Note: Apparently, once every few years I manage to finish a story lol. I’ve become obsessed with Bridgerton, especially one Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, so here’s a lovely modern au for you where Ben and his best friend come to terms with some long-simmering feelings. Mostly, a reason to write some Benedict smut. Would love to hear your thoughts! Comments, likes, reblogs, and messages all appreciated!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She looks in the mirror on her wall and repeats it again. Like a mantra: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had to stop it from being like this.

Y/N flops back on her pillow and sighs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and yet here she was, another Valentine’s Day, pining after her best friend.

She glances at the clock. Said best friend would be here in about fifteen minutes (which for him meant probably closer to half an hour, if she was lucky and he hadn’t lost himself in a painting) so she had just enough time to pull herself together. The only good thing about this wretched holiday was that she and Benedict always spent it together. The tradition had started in university. She and Benedict had met first term and, after a rocky start involving a misplaced biology textbook, had become close friends. When February rolled around, it became clear that Valentines Day was kind of a capital T “Thing” for him.

***

“I just don’t get the hype!” he had said to her one day over lunch after the girl he was seeing that week asked him what his plans were for February 14th. “It’s one day, where you’re supposed to, what, declare your undying love for whoever you’re with at the moment, lavish them with ridiculous gifts, and watch cheesy romance movies?”

“First of all, you just used the word ‘lavish’ in a sentence. Second, you know the relationship won’t be making it to next week, so you can’t be bothered,” she’d said, pointing her fry at him in mock accusation before popping it into her mouth.

He scowled at her. She loved Benedict to death, but he was something of a flirt. And a bit of a man whore. She’d known him all of six months and already had lost count of the woman he had dated.

“I’ll admit, though, I do like the cheesy romance movie part. But I just want to watch them with a pizza and maybe some chocolate I buy for myself. I could do without the rest of it.”

“Yes!” Benedict had said. “That’s exactly what we’ll do!”

“I’m sorry, what’s exactly what who will do?”

“You and me. On Friday. Bad romcoms. Pizza.”

“And you think your current girl will go for that?”

“Darling, why would I spend valentines with my current girl if I can spend it with my always girl instead?” he said with a smirk.

***

Now, as her doorbell rings, she knows what she’ll find on the other side. Benedict, grinning at her, holding a box of chocolates and a bottle of red wine.

“Happy Valentines, always girl,” he says handing her the box of candy. “For the special lady in my life, I’ve brought a box of dark chocolate salted caramels, and a bottle of the cheapest red wine known to man.”

“You charmer!” She says, examining the bottle and pretending that his words have no effect on her. “This is literally just called ‘Red Blend.’ They couldn’t even be bothered to name their wine?”

“Names cost,” he chuckles, taking the bottle back from her and heading into the kitchen. “Besides,” he yells from the other room, “there’s a heart on the label. See? So, it’s on theme!”

She heard the clinking of him pulling glasses out of the cupboard, but she still was not prepared for the sliver of skin she sees when she turns the corner, his t-shirt riding up as he reaches, showing her a glimpse of his back. Not that she hasn’t seen his skin before – she had seen him fully shirtless in their years of friendship, but the feeling of longing in her gut still caught her off-guard if she wasn’t expecting it. Her stomach clenching, her face getting warm. She clears her throat as he opens the bottle.

“Well, we are nothing if not on theme,” she says brightly, pulling her hair up into a bun on top of her head in an effort to distract herself from the way her body was betraying her. “I mean, what could be more valentines themed than this outfit?”

He glances up at her from pouring the wine and smirks. In an attempt to not overdo it, she had gone with her normal movie watching attire – a t-shirt and yoga pants.

“Dazzling, as always darling.”

He hands her a glass and takes a sip of his own. “Oh,” he winces. “That is truly awful.”

She chuckles.

“You know, our tastes have really improved since undergrad. As, may I add, have our salaries. I know you always wanted to be a ‘starving artist,’ but you have managed your way out of that by being wildly successful. We could consider improving the wine for tonight.”

He gasps in mock horror.

“And not follow tradition? You’d never forgive me. So, what do you have in mind for us today?”

“Um.” she stutters, for just a second.

What her mind wanted them to be up to and what she knew he meant were two different things. She clears her throat and tries again.

“Oh, I have some throwback classics that I think you’ll enjoy,” she says sweetly.

This was the agreement. He brought the terrible wine, and she picked out the cheesy movies. They tried not to repeat movies they had watched on past Valentines Days, but that was getting harder for two reasons. One, because they had been friends forever, and the more years they did this, the less options they had. And two, because she had done her best to avoid one specific, horrifyingly common, romcom trope: friends to lovers. Especially if the movie included long-standing-best-friends to lovers. This year, though, she didn’t have a choice. One of the movies was going to include best friends realizing they were in love with each other. Her options had been that or dredging into truly terrible D grade romcoms. And honestly, while they often poked fun at the ridiculous storylines and over-the-top climatic moments of these films, she genuinely enjoyed watching them, especially with Ben. So, she didn’t want to cheapen it to the worst of the worst. She wanted something actually pleasant to watch.

“Excellent. Que us up then, I’ll order the pizza.”

Ninety minutes later, they had finished their first movie, half the pizza, and a whole bottle of wine.

“Mmm, I liked that one,” she hums, riding the romcom happy ending high.

“I could tell,” he laughs. “You threw a pillow at my head when I suggested that the setup for their romance wasn’t very realistic.”

“Yes, well, don’t forget that I have another pillow right here if I need to do it again.”

“You would never.”

“Don’t pretend you know what I would or would not do, Mr. Bridgeton. I have hidden depths.”

“Darling,” he says. “I have known you forever, I’m pretty sure I know everything about you. And I know, without a doubt, that you would never give up your last pillow during a movie marathon.”

“You don’t know everything,” she says. And then quickly, “For example, you don’t know that what we are about to watch next is one of my all-time favorite movies.”

He quirks a brow.

“Really? A favorite? I didn’t think we had any of those left. I’m surprised you had the willpower to hold off on it until now.”

“Oh, I have willpower like you’d never believe,” she mutters, clicking over to the next film.

The opening of When Harry Met Sally starts playing on the screen.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, it’s this one. I guess you’re right, we haven’t watched this, have we.”

“You’ve seen it right?”

“Of course. It may be the only Meg Ryan movie that doesn’t make me want to die.”

“Rude!” she says. “She is a romcom treasure! And you made it through her other movies unscathed.”

“Barely!”

“Oh, shh it’s starting.”

They sit in companionable silence as the movie moves on, Meg Ryan and Billy Chrystal bantering back and forth. They get to the scene where Sally orders her food in a completely ridiculous way and Ben chuckles.

“God, she reminds me of you,” he says.

“What, terribly difficult? Complicated? Impossible for most men to love?”

“No! No, she knows what she wants. She refuses to settle.”

“I’m flattered, I guess. But that’s not really me at all, you know.”

“Well, it definitely is when you’re ordering at a restaurant,” he smirks at her. But then it turns into a softer smile, something she can’t quite identify behind his eyes. “And honestly, when it comes to dating, you are so, so brave.”

“Stop!”

“You really are! You never stay with men who don’t deserve you. You’re not afraid to go after what you want, rather than staying stagnant in something safe. That’s brave. And not easy.”

“But I don’t go after what I want,” she breaths out. “Not really. I…I’m just not willing to stay with idiots.” She stares at her fingers, which are playing with a thread on the couch pillow she’s holding close, afraid she’s said too much, but somehow not able to stop. “But I’m not willing to go after what I really want, either. I’m not that brave.”

When she chances a look up at him, there is something in his face. It’s soft and sweet. She had expected him to poke fun at her, to say something about how maybe she shouldn’t start off by dating idiots and then it wouldn’t be an issue. But instead, she finds him leaning closer to her, his eyes serious.

“Well, you should go after it. What you want, I mean. You’re brilliant, y/n. And funny and smart. Any man would be lucky to have you.” And then his wide smile is back, the glint in his eye returned. “And I would know, as I’ve been your friend for ages and I have excellent taste.”

She snorts, looking away, trying to diffuse the heavy tension she feels sitting in her chest at his kind words, the way he’s leant towards her, his subtle scent, all fresh and clean with a hint of oil paint and something woodsy underneath.

“You forget that I’ve seen the women you go for,” she says. “And frankly, your taste is questionable.”

They both chuckle and turned back to the film.

“So mean,” he says.

“I tease because I love,” she says.

Then she freezes for just a second. She and Ben tell each other they love each other constantly – as friends, of course. But tonight has seemed so weighted somehow, that she’s worried she has stepped too far. A glance at Ben tells her he’s looking at her again, smiling.

***

When they get to arguably the most famous scene of the movie, y/n nearly spits out her wine, which would have been a shame, since they had moved on to a decent bottle from her own cupboard. She had somehow forgotten about this part and, while she had watched a lot of love scenes over the years with Benedict, this one feels more intimate, somehow, even though the people in question are fully clothed, in a diner.

As she watches Meg Ryan continue to imitate an orgasm, her cheeks flush and she tried very hard not to move. It will be impossible for Ben not to make some comment about this part, and she wasn’t sure she was up to joking about it, given the amount of wine she had consumed and the rush she was already feeling this evening. She wasn’t sure why tonight it was harder to ignore the pull she felt towards him, the warmth of his arm, slung along the back of the couch - not behind her, but close enough to make her want to snuggle into him. But what he says is not what she expected.

“I don’t know how he doesn’t just lunge across that table,” he says, lowly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

“What do you mean?”

She turns to look at him and realizes he’s already looking at her, not at the screen. His eyes are darker than normal, his arm seems suddenly tense behind her.

“I mean, that if a woman I loved showed me how beautiful she could be in the throws of passion, even if I knew she was faking it, there is no way I could just stay where I was. I would need her to know. I would need to show her what she had been missing, what she could have for real.”

She feels her whole face, completely on fire. She’s thought about Ben plenty. About what it would be like to be with him. But to hear him talking about it, in his low, smooth voice, all she can think about is what he could do, with his hands, his tongue…she shivers involuntarily.

“Just, promise me you don’t play this stupid game, do you? You’re too good for that, I hope you know. No man’s ego is worth it. I just – “

“Ben,” she says, suddenly finding her voice and cutting him off. “Stop. I can’t – I don’t want to talk about this.” She tries to make her voice sound light, but when she hears it she knows it’s anything but.

“No! No, tell me you don’t?”

“Of course I don’t. I’d never fake it. But…but it does make for some awkward encounters.”

“Awkward encounters?”

“Don’t pretend you can’t imagine what happens when a woman doesn’t get off? Men have a way of convincing themselves they are the best at sex, and if you in any way make them feel like they’re not…it doesn’t always go great.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it? You shouldn’t have to pretend, and they should make sure you’re satisfied.”

“Ben,” she looks at him, seriously. “Come on. You have got to know that it is not always that easy. For some women, it’s tricky. I’m just saying, it can cause tension, when things are new.”

Ben scoffs. “Not for me. I would never leave a woman to feel like she had to fake it.”

“You know who you sound like right now, right?” she says, pointing to the television. “You sound like Harry.”

“It’s different. He’s sure a woman has never faked it with him. I make sure she never feels like she has to with me.”

“First sexual encounters are rarely the best.”

“Maybe. But I would make sure it was good. Even if it can’t be the best.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Well that we can agree on.”

“Women’s bodies are different.”

“I would never presume to know a woman’s body better than she does.”

“What?”

“I would ask her. What she likes,” he says, his voice still low, his eyes intent on her. “If she wasn’t happy, I would ask her to show me. I would never pretend like I know everything.”

Her heart is beating so fast, she feels like it might burst from her chest. Hearing him talk about this is too much. He’s so close, closer, somehow, than he had been moments ago. Had she moved towards him? Had the sound of his voice caused her to shift even closer to him? God, this was embarrassing. She goes to sit up straighter, away from him, but he catches her wrist, gently, and keeps her where she is.

“I would never let any woman go unsatisfied. But I absolutely, without a doubt, would never let you go unsatisfied.”

She feels like all the air has left her body.

“Ben,” she barely whispers.

“Please,” he says. “Please tell me that you haven’t been letting immature boys treat you poorly all this time, when I could have been taking care of you.”

All she can do is shake her head and look down, trying to pull herself out of the depth of his eyes. What was happening? Was Ben coming on to her? Did he know how she felt? No, no he was just worried about her. He thought she was brave, that she went for what she wanted, and she had admitted that wasn’t always the case. Ben was nothing if not someone who was comfortable with sex, and so talking about this would not be a big deal to him. He was just concerned. Trying to take care of her, as always. But not in the way she thought. Not in the way she wanted.

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, Ben. But I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, if you want to. But if that’s not what you want. If you want someone else – “

“It’s not your job to take care of me, Ben. Not like that.”

“I know it’s not but, what if I want it to be.”

Her eyes fly back up to his.

“Please,” he says, moving his hand to cup her cheek now, his face impossibly closer to hers. “Please let me take care of you. Like I want to. Like I’ve always wanted to.”

She doesn’t think she could respond if she tried.

He pauses and looks at her, searching for an answer in her eyes. He must have found what he was looking for, because suddenly he’s there, so close to her, whispering her name.

And then, his lips are on hers.

It starts out sweet, tentative. He was giving her plenty of time to push him away, to say no. But the moment his tongue slides against her mouth, she opens for him without hesitation, and he starts to kiss her in earnest, exploring her mouth with his own. They are all teeth and tongues, and damn, why had they waited so long to do this? She pushes herself closer to him, and he grasps her waist, pulling her up until she is straddling him on the sofa. She feels him, hard against her. Her hands go to his hair and his slide down, cupping her ass through the thin fabric of her leggings. A moan leaves his throat, and she wants to swallow every sound he makes, wants to taste it, to feel the vibrations of him through her body.

His hands move up her back and into her hair, tugging on it lightly as his lips leave hers to trail kisses down her neck. She can’t help the sound that leaves her as he finds the sensitive spot just above her collarbone.

“Fuck,” he whispers, almost reverently, before attaching his lips to the spot again, making her keen. “How can this feel so good when all I’ve done is kiss you?”

Something about his words make her stop and pull his face up to look at her.

“Ben,” she breaths out. “Ben, what are we doing?”

Her question seems to snap him out of the haze.

He looks at her with complete sincerity and says, “I’m so sorry. I should have asked. Do you want this? Do you want this with me? Because if not, we will stop, right now. I would never want to make you uncomfortable – “

“No, Ben, I do want this.”

She can’t help but smile shyly at the relieved look on his face as she says it. Sweet Ben, of course he was worried about her consent. He was a gentleman through and through.

“But that’s not what I meant. I meant, what are we, me and you, doing. Is this, are you…”

She can’t find the words to ask what she wants to - no, what she needs to know. Was this because he wanted her, wanted more with her? Was this a one-time thing for him? Proof that he would take care of her, always, even physically, if that’s what she needed?

Ben tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and keeps looking at her.

“I want this with you,” she lowers her eyes, unable to look at him. “I have wanted this, with you. For a long time. I don’t even know when I started to but…I need to know what you want. What this is for you. Because I…”

“Love,” he says, lifting her face up to look at him again. “Listen to me. I want you. You, Y/N. Here and now. And tomorrow, assuming you don’t kick me out of your bed or freeze me to death, because you are such a blanket hog. I want to wake up next to you, and make coffee, and bicker about what constitutes breakfast, and finally make you stop talking with my mouth on your lips, on your neck, on your body, until we both forget what we were fighting about in the first place. I want to make love to you on every soft surface in this room, and then fuck you against the kitchen counter when you’re trying to cook dinner, because I just cannot wait to be touching you again.”

Her face is on fire now, her whole body on alert, attuned to him. A hot ball of need pulsing at her core, just from his words. And that’s it. Benedicts words are her final undoing, and she lungs forward and presses her lips back to his, fervent, no questions or uncertainty swirling in her head now, just unbridled need and want and a feeling she isn’t ready to name urging her on.

He matches her intensity, kissing her fiercely, biting at her lip, her throat, the exposed part of her collarbone, pushing her t-shirt down her shoulder to get to more of her. His hands roaming up her back, into her hair, holding her steady against him.

“Ben, I…” she starts, but her words leave her as his mouth moves to her breasts, biting at her through her thin t-shirt. His hands move down to her waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of the fabric, lifting it up as they move over her ribs. She reaches for it and pulls the shirt over her head with one swift movement, wanting less between them. A needy hum sounds in Ben’s throat and he leans forward, kissing and nuzzling between her breasts, his hands reaching around her to unclasp her bra and pull it away from her skin. She gasps, her breasts exposed to him for the first time, her nipples pebbling, hard and taut and waiting. He palms the fullness of her in his large hands, and then takes a nipple into his mouth. Licking, biting, making her writhe on his lap from the feel of his tongue, with the way he sucks on her with his hot, wet mouth. He switches to her other breast, but keeps a hand on the first, his fingers twisting and pulling at her. It’s almost too much, how quickly he’s pushing her higher and higher in her need, but it also isn’t enough, not nearly.

As if he could hear her thoughts, his fingers start moving down her stomach, towards the waistband of her leggings.

“Wait,” she rasps, and he stills, his eyes looking to her for what she wants. What she needs.

“You’re still dressed,” she says, putting her hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt under her fingers.

He chuckles, and kisses her on the tip of her nose, before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.

“Better?” he asks, smirking at her, her fingers already roaming the expanse of his chest.

“Much.”

“May I?” he asks, his fingers trailing along the top of her leggings, not quite dipping under the fabric.

“Please, Ben,” she breathes out, and he makes a low sound in his throat.

“Fuck,” he says, his hands working under the fabric. “Never stop saying my name.”

And then his fingers are pushing her panties aside.

“So wet for me love,” he says, kissing up her neck, nipping at her ear, his fingers stroking, up and down along her slit, finally pushing up against her clit, rubbing it teasingly. She moves against him, searching for more friction, pushing herself forward, trapping his hand between her and his own length, straining against his jeans. He breathes out hard, moving his hand up so that he can feel more of the warm heat radiating from her core.

“I want to make this good for you, love. But if you keep grinding into me like that…” she pushes against him again.

“I’m not worried, Ben,” she says, breathily. “But I need you inside of me. Now.”

She grinds against him again, wanting to feel more of him. Wanting him inside of her.

“Fuck,” he says again, tightening his arms around her waste and lifting her up with him. “Bedroom. We need to get to the bedroom.”

While his hands are busy carrying her across the living room, she uses hers to explore the expanse of his chest, to slide over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair, pulling lightly at it as her mouth follows behind on the same path, leaving kisses across his shoulders and up to his ear.

“If you keep doing that,” he whispers, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “I might drop you.”

“You would never,” she giggles, just as he sets her down on the side of the bed, stretching his body out over her.

She smiles. This is Ben, she thinks, her Ben. The funny, flirty man she’s known forever. He’s still the same person he’s always been, only now it’s so much more. He smiles back down at her, but then his face shifts as he presses her body into the mattress with his own.

“Pants. Off. Now,” she says, her hands finding their way to the button of his jeans, undoing the zipper and tugging at them. He straightens and pulls them down his waste, taking his boxers along with them.

“Holy shit, Ben,” she says, without even meaning to. His cock is ready and waiting, and my god, they are not supposed to be as appealing as his is to her. She has never had this kind of reaction before. She wants to take it in her mouth, to lick up his shaft and suck his head into her mouth and feel it in the back of her throat. She looks up at him, and he is looking away, suddenly blushing. Boyish and bashful, for just a minute. As if this, coming from her, has thrown him. And she remembers that this is new for him too – the two of them, like this. It lasts for only a moment, but it makes her heart ache.

“Look at me, Ben,” she says quietly. He meets her eyes, the smolder back in them now. “My god, you are the most amazing thing I have ever seen.” His mouth quirks.

“Isn’t that my line?” he says, teasing. Clearly deflecting her praise.

“No. No, I get to take care of you too now. And you need to know how perfect you are. How much I want you, just as much.”

And then his mouth is on hers again, hot and persistent, and his hands are back at her waist, pushing at the last of her clothing. She breaks away from the kiss and pushes at him to stand back so she can lift her hips and help him pull the leggings and panties down and off her.

“Holy shit,” he says. He’s mimicking her reaction to him, but from the look in his eyes, she’s not sure he even realizes it. And then he is back in her arms, kissing up her neck, biting at her ear. Whispering to her. “I’ve thought about you for so long. I’ve imagined what it would be like, to see all of you. For you to let me, to want me to. But my god, I could never have imagined how beautiful you would be.” He pushes against her, skin to skin for the first time, his hard length grinding against her core. They both hiss at the contact.

“Condom?” he rasps, and she points to the bedside drawer. She pulls herself farther up the bed as she watches him retrieve the condom and roll it down his shaft, then make his way back to her.

“Love,” he says, crawling between her thighs, his eyes on hers. “I want this to be perfect, but you have to tell me what you like, ok? If somethings not working, I need to know.”

She nods and pulls him down for a kiss, as he reaches down and angles himself into her, and then he is there, pushing inside, filling her.

“Fuck,” he says, lowly, seating himself fully inside her. “So warm and wet and perfect.”

“Oh,” she says, moaning as he starts to move inside her. She feels so full, and Ben is there, looking at her as he thrusts. Then he is kissing, nipping at every part of her he can reach. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees and watching the point where they are connected for just a moment before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him, angling upward as he lifts one of her legs up over her shoulder. He hits a spot inside her as he does, and her eyes shut.

“Fuck,” she says, trying to angle herself to the spot again.

“Their?” he asks, hitting the same angle again.

“Yes,” she says, “Fuck, yes, right there.”

He hits the spot again and she keens.

“But Ben, I –“ she starts to say, but loses her voice as his fingers, those gorgeous fingers that she has watched write, and paint, and hold the stem of a wine glass, are touching her again. Gently, at first, his thrusts slow and purposeful, in time with his hands as they stroke at her.

“I know,” he says. “I told you, I want to take care of you.”

She looks up and sees that he’s watching her, her reactions, her movements as he strokes. Then he looks up and catches her eyes, stilling.

“I’m going to make you come,” he says, voice husky. “But I need you to tell me if what I’m doing is good. If you’re getting close, if there’s something else you need.”

She nods, shakily. Just hearing him talk to her, in that voice, while he is inside of her, is doing things to her she can’t explain.

Then he is moving again, rocking into her body as he touches her, starting where their bodies are joined and moving up to her clit and circling there. Slower, than faster, building her up, the heat growing between them. It feels amazing and she loves all of it. But she’s not quite there. She’s never been good at asking for what she wants, what she needs.

“Tell me,” he says, kissing up the leg that he has over his shoulder.

“Talk to me,” she says. “I want to hear…” she can’t say exactly what she wants, but he understands.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says. “Seeing you like this, naked, beneath me. I have thought about you in every fucking way, but none of it compares.”

She cannot help the sounds that come out of her now, whimpers when he pulls his fingers away from her clit, moans when he pushes them back up.

“Always so controlled, so collected for everyone else. I want this part of you. To see you lose all control. To watch you as you come, to feel you clench around my cock. I swear, I know already I’ll come with you, just from watching you, feeling you,” he moves his hand away, reaching for her own on the bed.

“Show me,” he says. She can hear the need in his voice. How hard he is trying to hold on to his own control. “Help me get you there love. I want to see what you like.” He pulls her hand with his own, back to where they are joined. Encouraging her movement with his fingers, following her lead. And then she is showing him, moving to her clit, rubbing and touching in the way that she knows will get her there. Her hips move, loving the friction, wanting more, desperate to mee his thrusts.

“Yes,” he praises. “Yes, fuck, so hot, so wet, so good.”

She pushes harder, feels him everywhere, inside her, around her. She is coiled so tight, about to snap. Then he turns his head, bites gently into her calf, and she is gone, crying out as waves of pleasure move through her body, tensing and arching and unable to stop.

“Fuck, yes,” he says, grasping at her hips now, canting his own, faster into her as she rides out the high. “I’m going to come so hard inside of you, fuck, I can’t –“ but then his body goes rigid, his cock pulsating inside of her, he says her name as he buries himself once more, riding out his own pleasure.

They both breath hard, slick and sweaty against each other, his head in the crook of her neck, his body over hers, holding his weight off her shakily.

“I..” she says, “that was, I didn’t know…”

He chuckles as he leaves light kisses on her collarbone, across her shoulder.

“Shh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, love. I told you I would take care of you.”

He lifts his face to look into her eyes, sweeps the hair off her forehead.

“I’ve always got you, my always girl."

#bridgerton smut #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #friends to lovers #mutual pining

219 notes · View notes

actualori · 5 months ago

Note

do you have any theories about joeys esmp s1 ending? cause ive seen people say different stuff about it (or maybe i didnt and are just imagining it) and i was wondering whether you have any theories about it :3 and if not id love to hear somw of your headcanons about joeys character (or you can answer both of these if you want, im not stopping you)

joeys s1 ending was the goofiest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life i still cackle whenever i think about it. guy falls through a crack of his burning temple and splits his head open then gets awoken by his capital T Toxic boyfriend then go frolicking around exploding everything and committing crimes and then get married.

realistically, it was probably just a hallucination. there is no way in canon that joey and that fugly burnt rat with horns actually had a healthy happy relationship together and got married

HOWEVER we reject canon jornoth it doesn’t exist to us. i like to think either xornoth saved him and took him to another timeline and they had their little romance there or that was the desired future that xornoth wanted when they got “stabbed” by the rune blade.

(i like the first one better because i love the idea that both of xornoth and scott’s desired life was living happy together more than the second theory)

it may seem messy and complicated to think of both of those options together but considering how weird all the parallel universes and timelines are it can probably make sense

headcanons below

now i have so many freaking headcanons about joey (i have thought up so much about every s1 character regarding their childhood, parents, relationships, cultures, etc) so i’ll share a few (if you want to hear more or anything specific lmk i’ll be very happy to answer)

- there are no trace of any biological family of his. nobody knows where he came from

- he can communicate directly to gods- including aeor and exor- which is what had gotten xornoth interesting in him in the first place

- he’s the only one with the ability to enter and exit the lost empire without getting lost

- lots of gold and jewellery and riches. loves to dress up xornoth and show them off

- very very touchy with xornoth. will always hold their hand or cuddle or drape themself across them and refuses to let go. however he refuses to touch anyone else

- refuses to wear a shirt. it stresses xornoth out whenever he visits rivendell (he’s gotten frostbite many times. he does it on purpose to have an excuse to have xornoth bundle him up to warm him up)

- comes back to life after he dies. it was a gift from the gods. he is “dead” for an hour or so before the totem of undying magic brings him back. it still hurts a ton but his wounds heal quickly. the reason he died during his ending was because his kingdom and temples had been destroyed, causing the magic to stop working

i’ve got so much more but i’d need more specific questions regarding them to be able to think of them

#i was going to look at my google doc full of all my headcanons and theories BUT I CAAANNTTTT #i wrote it while i was at school which resulted in it being typed on my school email #but i can’t access it anymore nooooo #i have to refer to all of these via memory and i have adhd #mcyt #joey graceffa #ori speaks #ori answers #empires smp #empires smp season 1 #headcanons #mcyt headcanons #mcyt theories

22 notes · View notes

rootytootypie · 6 months ago

Note

❤️💨🫘😳🤢🦸‍♂️for Spiderman please. Uhhhh not the Tom Holland one, the adult versions just to be clear hehe

💨: On a scale of gassiness, Peter is definitely a reticient seven. He doesn’t go around tooting his horn at all, but his Aunt May knows this (other) little secret. She thinks it’s the sweetest thing her nephew is so polite, but she always makes sure there’s Gas X, ginger ale, and mint around the house to settle his poor stomach. She also definitely makes sure Mary Jane is in on it once Peter moves out, so even at ESU, he’s well stocked with remedies for his tummy troubles. MJ is super subtle about it, making sure he doesn’t realize she knows until he’s ready to tell her (mostly because he’d be mortified if he know his aunt told his crush all about how he’s not actually an avid tuba player, and in fact has never even owned the instrument). Peter’s actually more shy with friends and family than strangers, mostly because he finds his loud gas so embarrassing, but also because he doesn’t want to worry anyone with his stomach problems.

🫘: Peter and beans have a dangerous, odiferous affair going. He knows he shouldn’t touch them in any form, but in one of the culinary capitals of the world, how can he resist refried beans, bean dip, bean chips, and all the forms it takes that have Peter swinging home tooting like a tugboat? They just smell so good going in? How can they stink so much coming out? Yes, they require a retreat to a fortress of solitude (his bedroom at May’s, the dorm room at peak party times so Harry’s out, or his apartment), but the taste makes it worth it. He pines, he perishes (mostly because he’s a little afraid Triple J will declare Spidey a gaseous menace).

😳: When you’re gassy like Peter, you definitely have a few embarrassing farts in your memory banks. But there only one that can be decreed the worst.

It was Peter’s first college party at ESU, in the extreme ostentatious Alpha Mu Pi mansion on campus. The place was cavernous, with no doors clearly marked and most of the freshman being as clueless to the layout as he was. This was very bad, because his nerves had driven him to packing in the chips and bean dip abandoned in the corner. And after about fifteen chips, Peter’s stomach was bubbling. He was sure it was brewing something nasty.

His lack of direction led him to a door another random guy thought might be the bathroom. Instead, as Peter flung the door open and saw two guys making out, he let out a *BBBBBBRRRRRRbbbbbblllllrllllrllrllllllBBBBB!* that rang out louder than the music pumping on the stereo. Everyone was looking at him, including the gay couple, one of whom happened to be Rodney Worth, the starting quarterback who just transferred from Crofton University.

Peter and his fart had just accidentally outed the quarterback to a packed frat party. For weeks, he hung his head in shame, especially as the news hit the school paper. He not only embarrassed himself, he’d ruined some poor guy’s life (I’m partly picturing the Spideyverses of the past films, so it’s technically always the 2000s/early 2010s in their universe; i.e. Rodney would NOT be in for a fun time). He finally sighed, gathered up his courage, and went to Rodney to apologize.

He found Rodney under a tree in the quad, openly reading James Joyce to his boyfriend. “Can I talk to you, Rodney,” Peter asked nervously. The broad shouldered football player nodded and stood up, following Pete a few steps away.

“I’m really sorry for outing you,” Peter said. “It was an accident, but I know that doesn’t make things better, so I’m just plain sorry that the news spread so much, and-”

“Sorry,” Rodney said, perplexed. “I’ve been wanting to thank you. I’m finally free to be who I am, and fuck anyone who thinks badly of it. Because of you, I’m not burdened by any secrets. I’m gay and proud.”

“Oh,” Peter said, surprised. “Well, that’s great. I’m glad there was a positive side for you.”

“Do me a favor, though,” Rodney asked with a grin. “Lay off the bean dip, okay?”

❤️: Peter was downright terrified to fart in front of MJ. He was afraid one toot would be the thing to make her snap out of dating him and remember him as a geeky neighbor boy instead of a boyfriend. He held it pretty steadfastly…until one night when they end up on the coach together watching a movie - and the popcorn mixed in his belly with the bean chips he ate as a quick snack. Peter shifted, ready to head for the bathroom - just as she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. She looked up at him, and her eyes made him want to melt. “I’m so glad we get a night to ourselves,” she said. “No urgent crimes to interrupt, no crazy missions, or jacked up supervillains. Just you and me.”

“Same,” Peter squeaked, his voice breaking from nerves.

“Are you alright,” MJ asked. “You look kinda feverish. Can you still get sick?”

“I’m fine,” Peter protested. “Just…happy. Content. Can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“Yeah…okay,” MJ said. “If you’re sure.”

“Sure as shootin’,” Peter heard himself say, and blushed. Where the hell did come from? At least his embarrassing little problems is under wraps-

*PrrrrrooooooBLLLPBLLPBLLP!*

“Oh, God, MJ, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I-”

“Finally showed me your tuba playing,” MJ snarked, giggling.

Peter pouted. “Just for that, I’m gonna point out you toot in your sleep,” he groused.

“Aw, Pete,” she said. “Is it really bad? There’s some ginger ale in the fridge I can get you.”

“…Okay,” Peter agreed. “But if I have to fart more, will you still cuddle me?”

“Duh,” MJ said. “Just stand up if you have to shoot webs out of your butt, because I just bought this couch from Pottery Barn.”

“…I love you,” he said, giving her puppy dog eyes. “And I’m sorry.��

“You don’t have to be sor- Oh, my God, that’s vile! Talk about silent but violent. Apology accepted! …Now come back here, I’m cold.”

🤢: Peter is very easily grossed out by certain people’s farts. Certain people being Flash Thompson on a power trip farting in his general direction. Other than that example of fart torture (not really my scene), Peter is sorta ambivalent to farts. Well, the one exception is when he sneaks up on criminals and one of them farts in surprise. That cracks him up. He’s definitely as much of a worrier as his friends are about him, and happily give out tummy rubs and forehead kisses to any of his girlfriends who are gassy for whatever reason, but especially period cramps.

🦸‍♂️: He doesn’t fart web. That said, his sudden bean intolerance only came after he was bitten by the spider. Before that, he didn’t struggle with any food. There have been times the resulting farts propelled him forward by a few extra centimeters as he swings through the city, so the gas has also definitely gotten more powerful since he became super. It’s as if the bite gave him extra protein farts as a consequence of his newly developed bod.

#eprocto #eproctophilia #gassy guy #farts #p3t3r park3r #marv3l

27 notes · View notes

literary-illuminati · 8 months ago

Text

2024 Book Review #19 – Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

This is the third book I’ve picked up as part of my whole aspirational ‘read a piece of non-SFF capital-l Literature every month’ New Years resolution. Of those three, it is the second I opened only to discover it actually is science fiction and/or fantasy after all. Which is just a very funny thing to happen twice, and also meant the book was significantly less outside my comfort zone than I’d expected. Which did make it quite a pleasant read.

The story follows Klara, an AF (Artificial Friend, a companion robot for children) in a broadly sketched and mildly dystopian future America. At first it just follows her life in the shop where she’s kept, observing the world around her and interacting with the store manager and the other AFs, but the meat of the book is her life with the family who buys her. Over time you learn that Josie, her child, suffers from severe and increasing health issues as a consequence of being ‘lifted’ (genetically enhanced, in some unclear way) in the womb. Klara, being solar-powered and having quietly developed a one-robot religion underpinned by a firm belief in the power and benevolence of Mr. Sun (and a moral opposition to Pollution, which obscures and drives him away) does her best to invoke his help in nourishing and restoring Josie. At the same time, she learns that her job is not just to comfort Josie but, should she die, to be her mother’s replacement goldfish and imitate her perfectly.

The setting is broadly sketched and never really exposited upon – it’s just not something Klara is particularly interested in – but it’s a very modern sort of dystopia. Much of the populace, even among the American professional elite, have been left ‘post-employed’ by robotic automation. The remaining meritocratic elite have embraced novel and risky genetic enhancements for their children, as the only possible way of ensuring they get into a good school and one of the few good careers left. There are fascist militia compounds off in the distance somewhere. The overall feeling is that of a society dimly aware it’s midway through collapsing, but with no ideas of how to arrest its fall. But since Klara has no interest at all in either politics or economics, we only see this as it directly intrudes upon the story, with nary a lecture or manifesto to be seen.

I’ve only ever read one other book by Ishiguro, so I really don’t know how much this generalizes, but the similarities to Never Let Me Go really were striking. Both books are set in really rather horrifying societies, but portrayed in an utterly normalized way by someone who never even thinks to question the real rules they live under. Which is even more striking because in both cases the protagonist is seen by society as only quasi-human – like a person, but existing only in relation to and for the benefit of the people who really matter. And in both cases the story follows the protagonist who lives their life moving through the role they were made for without ever really resisting it, let alone changing it. Not that the roles of ‘friend to sick child’ and ‘mandatory organ donor’ are exactly comparable but, you know.

A definition I’ve always kind of liked for what makes literary fiction, well, literary is that it’s as or more concerned with the beauty and presentation of its prose than it is on the information the prose is conveying. Not at all true in terms of how the term’s actually used (genre is marketing), but it works for me, and lets this book count as literature quite handily. The whole story is told quite tightly from Klara’s point of view, and it’s a pleasure to read. Even if it took me more than a few pages to really understand how she described scenes, always foregrounding the ways they were divided by grids or patterns of the sun’s light.

Portraying the normal human society through the eyes of a naive and somewhat alien narrator to get away without explaining everything is a classic sci fi trope for a reason, but it’s overall used really well here as well.

I’m still not entirely sure how to interpret the sudden intrusion of magical realism with the ending. But otherwise, really quite a good read.

#book review #klara amd the sun #kazuo ishiguro #sff #literature

48 notes · View notes

saezurumurmurs · 9 months ago

Text

A BL Platform For Everyone

NB: Please reblog this for visibility!

A little over two years ago, me and my BL crew were in our little chat sharing recommendations.

Cat had an impressive spread sheet, Marcie and I had iCloud Notes, and it was pretty much chaos.

I looked at it and said out loud, "There has to be a better way for us to keep track of our reads and share recommendations. There has to be right?"

Cat said she wished someone would build a BL app with everything already there. Me, a developer of almost thirty years, paused while a floodlight (not a light bulb) went off in my head.

“Well I could maybe build one… cause like, I build stuff. How would that be?”

By the end of the conversation Cat had invited me to build an app for BL.

Four weeks later, in late February of 2022, digitaljuicy.com was online.

In the last couple of years, I’ve been listening to the fandom, paying attention to feedback, poured over analytics, read your responses to the Reader’s Survey and continued to craft a platform with all this in mind.

What I have been building is 100% for us... there is nothing but BL and it is an attempt to encompass ALL of BL. Not just the bits and pieces.

But for two years I've been struggling. Struggling in many ways, but specifically to get what I wanted out of the platform. I tried and failed so many times.

In September of 2022 I tried to raise venture capital to build the platform I wanted for us. I pitched it to accelerators and true blue venture capital.

Juicy is what is called 'pre-seed'. Which means were still so new and evolving, under-resourced and while there was interest, there was no joy. No funding was raised.

In December 2023, I realised it was time to rethink Juicy. i have been on the deepest dive for months rebuilding Juicy from the ground up and preparing the framework for the mobile app.

I’ve built something I want to use… and wild, I’m building it and using it as a fan at the same time. I'm at the point where it's impossible not to want to share.

And what kind of platform do I mean? At its most basic level:

You can track your reads, watches and plays

You can review and recommend the titles to the community, your friends, strangers on Twitter, your friend you're trying to corrupt outside the fandom. Your poison.

Timelines for you, for titles, for episodes, chapters… just about everything. I mean everything: The creators, the publishers, the studios, the actors... you can leave reviews and status posts on EVERYTHING. No algorithms, no force feeding... just discovery, recommendations and honest reviews by this community about our community and the industry we feed.

Collections! Lists of stuff you're reading, dropped, want to read, want to buy, love or hate, all pretty and organised and shareable..

A growing database resource of titles, tagged up to its eyeballs with a minutiae of data.. with reading an streaming links and anything else we find that we think is relevant.

But it is also a lot more than this.

I wanted it to be more than what it was. I want to turn Juicy into a mobile app, add some more functionality and more specifically, platform all of BL for its non-Asian fandom.

We get left out of so much, I feel like we need our own thing.

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I was tired of being banned on social media for sharing content. How you gonna ban me for saying a 2D fictional character needs to be shot with shite and strung with cobweb? But they did… and I know it’s not just me.

What about the creators? How do they interface with the non-Japanese or non-Korean fandoms? On which misogynistic hell site?

What about the publishers and merchandisers? What about the little Etsy sellers? Why does BL have to hidden away in the databases of mangaupdates, anisearch and anilist? Why does every single manga tracker out there seem to have pitiful listings for BL?

Is it because we’re a female or queer audience?

Look at this lil video I made:

youtube

Either way, I’ve long felt it’s time for us to do our own thing. So I’ve been building it. Pixel by pixel. Feature by feature on my own.

Juicy has been a small chat group, but I’m the only developer. We’ve always been clear about what we wanted to build: A platform for the fandom, the creators, the publishers, the merchandisers… my goal is a one-stop platform for BL and I am damn close to presenting this new iteration.

This was and remains the core of what I’m building: The largest English platform for BL on the planet. The functionality is one thing, but building a database like that is not a one-person job.

So now I need your help.

First to keep the servers online, so I can continue to build and develop and finally, finally release the mobile app. I can't tell you how much I want that.

I’m close to pushing the new Juicy 3.0 out, and I’m very in love with the work I’ve done since December. It’s a new look, and it works 1000 times better than the previous iterations of Juicy.

I just have hit a wall financially, and need your help and support to get it over the line.

Juicy's ass is fat and I been carrying her mostly alone for two solid years.

I’m going to launch a Kickstarter for this project in a bit so I can hire another developer to help with the trickier bits and fine tune the mobile app, but for now, I felt a Patreon would at least help us keep the servers up and maybe, just maybe allow us to afford a few crucial bits that will elevate your experience as a user.

And because I’m a developer, and I can do some pretty kinky shit with APIs and such, if you support this Patreon campaign, you will get some nice feature perks on the platform automagically. You won’t have to pay again to access these perks in-app later.

As many perks as I can cook up anyway, not the least of which will be access to some of the nicer functions and features I’ve already built into the platform.

When the mobile app launches, you will get it first and for free! Plus we’ve been talking about a lot of other ways we can make the platform fun beyond what I've done already.

I plan to monetise the platform in various ways, but in a profit sharing model. You contribute to the database, you contribute content, you get a share of whatever the platform makes. This is already built into the system. This will be open to anyone willing, but to Patrons first.

Finally, I'm limiting the number of people who can subscribe via Patreon to 1000 people. Once we hit that number, the rolls will be closed to new membership, and everyone directed to the platform to pay for any services or merchandise.

My goal for this group of Patrons is that you become an exclusive and tightly knit inner circle.

My hope is that you will help me actively shape what Juicy will become. Your votes and say will carry weight. Your feature requests considered and if possible implemented first.

You will get access to exclusive merchandise, exclusive giveaways and promos (like free stuff), and exclusive programming from the team.

With your help we will produce an exclusive podcast for Patrons only discussing all things BL and Juicy (honestly our conversations are generally wild and hilarious... it will be a rollick for sure), along with other content for Patrons only. We've even planned watch parties and other fun shit... I swear, we want you all to be our greatest ambassadors so we are planning as many treats as we can.

Your access on the platform will be specific to your Patreon subscription and your treatment will be VIP for the life of your subscription.

Finally, the way my auADHD are set up, I have no interest in the dramas of the BL fandom, so this is never going to be about gatekeeping access to anything. It’s about making more access possible. You can help bring us all together and make us stronger as a group.

So do you think Digital Juicy sounds like something you’d like in on?

Okute Sea

Saezuru Murmurs

38 notes · View notes

ereardon · 1 year ago

Text

The Back Seater and the Baker || Chapter 4 [Bob Floyd x f!OC]

Overview: Bob hasn't seen Haley Nichols since he was fifteen. But when Haley shows up out of the blue with one sentence that throws Bob for a loop – "I'm turning thirty in two weeks, are we still on?" – all of the feelings from their childhood return. Bob never thought that Haley would remember the marriage pact the two made when they were just kids, even if he never forgot. So what happens when Bob falls all over again for his childhood crush? And what will Bob do when he discovers the real reason she came back to capitalize on the pact is to secure her inheritance and save her bakery from bankruptcy? Will he believe Haley when she confesses that she loves him, too?

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC [Bakery owner Haley Nichols]

Tropes: Marriage pact

Chapter summary: Bob leaves on the Uranium mission; Haley remembers the one time Bob came to see her that the two of them refuse to speak about; Bob makes a decision

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mention of death

Word count: 1.8K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here

It’s only a week. That’s what Bob said over the phone when he told you about a mission they were all set to leave for on Thursday. The two of you only had three days before he left.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, pacing around the bedroom of your hotel room. You were barefoot but walking on the carpet made your skin crawl. You longed for the soft duvet of your townhouse back in Charleston, the way your kitchen knives were organized just so, even that one pair of sweatpants with the hole in the cuff that you had left at home thinking you wouldn’t be gone that long.

“No,” Bob said, but there was something in his voice that made you stop dead in your tracks, eyes glued on the dirty window.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Bob sighed on the other end of the line. “It’s dangerous,” he said carefully.

“How dangerous?”

There was a pause. Then, “It’s never been done before,” Bob said. “I, we, don’t even know if it can be done.”

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until your vision started to go spotty and you let it out in a short cough.

“Peanut?” Bob’s voice was laced with concern. “Honey, please. I’m going to be fine.”

“How can you say that?”

“Where are you?”

“The hotel.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Thirty minutes later, you were snuggled up on Bob’s couch wearing one of his t-shirts and snacking on a bowl of popcorn. He had your feet in his lap, massaging over them gently.

Bob slid one hand up your ankle. “Feeling better?”

“No.” You pulled your legs off of Bob’s lap and sat up, cross legged, your knees brushing against his thighs. “How do you do this, Bobby? I’m fucking terrified something is going to happen to you.”

“It’s the job, honey. I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Why didn’t you pick something safer?” you asked. “Like mall security or an accountant? Accountants never get shot down by enemy jets.”

Bob smiled ruefully. “You worry too much.”

“I mean it, Bobby,” you said softly. “Would you ever consider leaving the Navy?”

He reached up, thumb stroking your cheek. “If I had someone to come home to, yeah, I would. But most of the time I come back from a mission to an empty fridge and an overgrown lawn.” He paused. “I’ve never had someone waiting for me on the tarmac, crying they’re so ecstatic to see me.”

A tear slid down your cheek and he wiped it away. “Then come home,” you whispered. “And this time it’ll be different from all the other times. I promise.”

“Stay here,” Bob said instantly and you frowned. “Ditch your hotel room. The guest bedroom is way nicer.” He smiled. “And selfishly, I want you to be here when I come home.”

“OK,” you said and he grinned. “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You marry me.”

Bob smiled, eyes glimmering. “Peanut.”

“I mean it,” you said and his blue eyes shifted left, then right, as if he was reading a book. He was trying to gauge if you were serious or not.

You were dead serious.

“You come home next Friday and we get married.”

“Haley,” Bob said softly. “What’s the rush?”

“I knew I was going to marry you when we were fifteen,” you replied. “Come home from this mission, Bobby, and marry me. At the very least, just promise me you’ll come home.”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “I promise,” Bob whispered. “I’m coming back for you.”

Two days later, you sat in the front seat of Bob’s truck, hand raised in a wave as he turned and marched into the hangar. You wiped the tears from your eyes and yanked the truck into reverse, not letting yourself look back.

Bob’s house felt empty. It was charming, but it lacked a clear sense of style. It was obvious that Bob had only purchased necessities, and he hadn’t made the effort to match or style anything.

You spent the first three days of his mission with your phone ringer on, trailing in and out with new items: a wooden coffee table, a new side chair, new sheets and a comforter for Bob’s bed and the guest bedroom. You filled the cabinets and fridge with groceries.

And then you sat and watched the minutes go by. Every second your phone didn’t ring felt like a lifetime.

On the fourth day Bob was gone, the phone rang. It startled you out of your sleep and you made your way, bleary, to the kitchen where it sat on the counter. Who still had a fucking home phone line?

Without thinking, you grabbed it. “Hello?”

There was a pause and then a woman’s voice. “Hello?”

You frowned. “Hi.”

“Oh, hi.” She sounded older. “Oh my, I hope I have the right number. I was looking to leave a message for Bobby.”

“This is the right number,” you said. “Sorry, who is this?”

She laughed. “This is Patty. I’m Bobby’s mother.”

You had thought she sounded familiar. A blush crept up your neck. “Oh, Mrs. Floyd. Hi, it’s Haley Nichols. From Woodmont High.”

“Haley.” Mrs. Floyd’s voice was soft and light and it blanketed you. “Honey, how are you?”

“I’m good,” you said, knocking your ankles together. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” she replied. “I’m never fine until Bobby’s back from a mission.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I get that.”

“So are you and Bobby…” She trailed off.

“Oh, I, um, I’m just visiting,” you replied. “Had some vacation time.” You brushed over the fact that until two weeks ago, you hadn’t seen Bob in more than a decade.

“Well it’s very nice to hear from you, Haley.”

“You, too, Mrs. Floyd.”

“Promise you’ll have Bobby call me when he’s back?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, dear. You take care of yourself, OK?”

“I will.” Then, “Mrs. Floyd?”

“Patty, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “Patty. How do you do it?” you asked. “Let him go, knowing that something could go wrong?”

She sighed. “Honey, it never gets easier. You just have to have faith. He’ll come back, he always does.”

***

Despite the fact that you and Bob never spoke about it, the day your parents drove you away, your hands glued to the back window of the truck as Bob stood in the middle of the street, wasn’t actually the last time you saw Bob before you ended up on his doorstep in San Diego.

The two of you had stayed in touch, as well as you could before cell phones were a big thing, and back when email meant firing up your family’s computer room desktop that took thirty minutes to load a Bing page.

When you were eighteen, Bob had been the one to show up unannounced.

Your heart had broken when you came home one night, wasted, clinging to the arm of a guy from your first-year finance seminar, and the elevator doors opened to reveal Bob sitting with his back against the door of your dorm room, a bouquet of flowers wilting in his hands.

He stood when the doors opened, and there was a moment of sobering clarity as the two of you locked eyes.

You dropped the hand of the guy you were with, stepping closer, not really letting yourself believe it was Bob. He looked older, but only slightly. He still had a layer of baby fat on his cheeks that was gone now that he was in his thirties. But back then he had rosy, thick cheeks, and a grimace across his perfect face.

It was the look of sadness that resonated with you.

“Bobby?” you whispered, getting closer.

He looked up. There was so much grief in his eyes. He held out the flowers and you took them, unsure of what else to do. “I shouldn’t have come,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone, speed walking down the hall, pressing the elevator button and stepping inside without a second look before you could even make sense of what was happening in your inebriated state.

That had been the last time you saw Bob Floyd.

***

Your feet were sweating inside of your shoes. There was an anxiety that coursed through your veins that felt unlike anything you had ever experienced before. All you knew was that an automated voice message had been left on Bob’s machine while you were out getting groceries. His squadron was returning that afternoon.

You dropped the bag of groceries in the sink, grabbed your keys to the rental car and sped across the bridge toward North Island.

Your heart was threatening to fly out of your chest. Two weeks before, you hadn’t spoken to Bob Floyd in more than a decade. Two weeks before, you never would have been able to believe that you’d be standing on the tarmac, bright sun blinding you, waiting nervously for Bob Floyd to come home. That if something had happened to him, you would never forgive yourself.

That maybe, everything you had felt as kids had never really gone away. Only faded, softly, to just a thin heartbeat that you stashed away somewhere where you couldn’t hear it pounding in your ears. But it was there, it had always been there.

And then there was a rumbling. You turned your head, peering into the distance, trying to piece together exactly what was happening. There were footsteps, loud stomps, and the sound of jets powering down, and finally after a few moments you saw figures headed your way, toward the large white hangar on your right.

You grounded your feet, eyes flickering left and right, trying to find him. Trying to see anyone you recognized. But they were just bodies in green flight suits, difficult to distinguish from one another.

“Haley.” Bob’s voice rang out across the tarmac and you were dashing forward before you even realized it, launching into his arms as he dropped his duffle bag just in time to catch you, your fingers gripping his neck and shoulders tight, face buried against him, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, pulling back and Bob lowered you down. “You’re alive.”

His eyes melted. Bob reached up, wiping away a tear from your cheek that you hadn’t even realized was there. “The answer is yes, Peanut,” he said.

“What?”

“I’ll marry you,” Bob replied and your heart sank in your chest. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours.

You tasted like a lie.

Tag list (if notifications aren't working for you please turn on notifications for my library page @ereardonlibrary instead)

@wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @teacupsandtopgun @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @yanna-banana @whisperofsong

@marvelshauntedhouse @that1nerd-20

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @shanimallina87

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @storysimp @emma8895eb @briseisgone @katiedid-3 @beacheybabes97 @mandylove100 @justabovewater20 @londonbeachgirl

#bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun imagine #hangman top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x oc

70 notes · View notes

hyuge · 3 months ago

Text

False Sunflower

#DasterWeek24 | Day 7: Flowers | AO3

Hosted by: @nucarnievents | Rated: T | 1k WC

Heliopsis helianthoides – False Sunflower (happiness and hope)

Aster is on his way to Solaria when he starts coughing up petals. His trip is not going well to begin with as he succumbs to the elements, now, it's worse.

It starts with the sun bearing down on Aster in the blazing desert heat. He shields his eyes with his hands, watching as the heat casts waves on the horizon, distorting his vision. He hates it here, throat parched as he trudges through the desert alone in search of his destination. Aster thought it was dehydration that made his throat so irritated, but when the first petal fell from his pink lips, a sense of dread began to build in his chest. Time was not on his side. The sands of the hourglass spill from top to bottom, burying him alive.

The petal is a lovely shade of red-orange. Its shape is like that of a sunflower, only smaller. A daisy, maybe? He’s too tired to dwell on it and too exhausted to fly. He needs water. He needs blood. And he needs to reach the damn Solarian palace before nightfall. If he’s been inflicted with the flowering loneliness, he needs to get out of the desert and into the bed of the one his heart longs to see. How he managed to fall prey to such a trap is beyond him. Only fools fear unrequited love, and Aster is no fool.

Though, admittedly, he’s never genuinely loved anyone before. He has a deep respect for Huey. Morvay is… well, Morvay. And Eiden fills him with a fondness he had long since forgotten. So why has the Sun Lord of all people managed to capture his affection? Dante is rude, abrasive, and stubborn. He thinks too highly of himself for his tender age. Sure, he may be loyal, dedicated to his people, and incredibly intelligent and hardworking, but he still has more faults than positives. Or not. Aster knows he’s just making excuses to himself. The heat is clouding his mind, and the flowers are filling his insides. Presently, he has no leg to stand on. He should have taken a carriage.

Aster sees a figure approaching on the horizon and he thinks the heat has finally finished him off. The mirages are becoming more convincing now as his head swims and his footsteps slow to a snail’s pace. He drops to his knees, the hot desert sand stinging his delicate skin, and retches. Flower petals spill from his lips and his throat burns. The petals decorate the ground in front of him, a beautiful mix of yellows, reds, and oranges. I’ve lived a long enough life, he thinks. It’s longer than a human’s, though centuries shorter than that of the average vampire. Perhaps this is some sort of divine retribution brought on by the God of Klein? Aster isn’t sure what he could have done that would earn him a death such as this, but he’s sure there’s something. Greed? Possibly.

“Vampire!” a voice shouts.

Ah. The auditory hallucinations are kicking in. Aster won’t make it to nightfall, let alone the Solarian capital. He blinks blearily at the hazy shape of… someone. He can’t quite tell who. There’s a hot hand pressed against his forehead, but it feels cool against his heated skin. His chin is forcibly tilted up and—oh! Water. The cool liquid slides down his throat and dribbles from the corners of his mouth. His tongue feels alive once more and the feeling of sand coating his insides slowly evaporates. Aster blinks again and swears he can make out a set of mismatched eyes. But why would the Sun Lord be here?

Strong arms wrap around his body, lifting him off the ground. The last of Aster’s energy whittles away and he transforms back into a bat. A cloth is thrown over him, shielding him from the hot, desert sun, and everything goes black.

“You’ll be safe soon,” he hears, just before passing out.

When Aster comes to, he’s laid out on silken bedsheets in an elegantly decorated room. There’s a pitcher of water on the bedside table, along with an ornate chalice. He’s thirsty, but not for water. Aster coughs, spilling petals onto the bed. They look almost as if they belong there, yet somehow, not quite right. Ah. False sunflowers. Now it makes sense. An Aster who loves feels like an imposter. He does not know this version of himself.

“You’re awake.”

His gaze flits across the room to a figure standing in the doorway. Dante approaches with a stern look in his eyes. Aster sighs, burying himself into the pillows. “I suppose I have you to thank for rescuing me from the desert.”

Dante takes a seat on the edge of the bed, inches from Aster’s body. “You sound awfully full of yourself for someone that was dying of heatstroke a few hours ago. You must be feeling better.”

Aster hums. “Mostly. I could use a drink.” Dante reaches for the pitcher and Aster throws his hand out to stop him. “Not that kind of drink.”

Dante hesitates. His attention is pulled elsewhere when he notices the flower petals on the bed. “Where did these come from? I saw them at your feet in the desert as well.”

Aster sighs. He drapes his arm over his eyes in a poor attempt to hide himself away. “From me. I have the flowering disease.” He says it casually, an attempt to play it off for less than what it is, but inside, his anxieties are screaming. Just because he’s been rescued from the desert doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods. There’s still a guillotine waiting to fall on his neck.

The mattress shifts and Dante lifts Aster’s arm. Their faces are close. Dante caresses Aster’s cheek with his thumb, concern etched on his brow. “Who?”

“What?” Aster asks dumbly.

“Who has managed to capture your heart?”

Aster decides to play coy. He’s too tired and hungry for such a serious conversation. Either he tells Dante, and his feelings are accepted, ridding him of the flowering disease, or he tells Dante, and he is rejected, ensuring his demise. He’ll find out the answer soon enough. Instead, he says, “Let me drink from you, then I’ll tell you.”

Dante loops an arm under Aster’s body, righting him, then cranes his neck for easy access. “Go on then. Drink and feel better.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #nu carnival #dasterweek24 #daster week 2024 #daster week 24 #day 7: flowers #aster nu carnival #dante nu carnival #daster #aster/dante #asterxdante #vampiresun #vampire sun

8 notes · View notes