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leviathanlazarus · 4 months ago

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In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

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You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library.

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart.

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows.

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.”

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny.

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf. “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next.

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!”

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued.

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment?

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.”

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim.

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.”

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves.

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job.

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before.

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that.

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between.

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss.

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues.

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy.

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity.

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity.

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt.

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open.

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs.

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next.

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him.

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced.

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you.

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement.

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more.

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you.

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic.

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.”

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.”

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)

Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

#cumsluts only #in honor of my old gvf mutuals RIP #Jake kiszka #Jake gvf #Jake kiszka x reader #gvf #greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #Jake fic #gvf smut

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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months ago

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34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | teaser | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: ~1k for the teaser (full fic here) warnings (for the full fic, teaser has none): art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, very brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, ambiguous ending, smut warnings on the full fic

a/n: this fic is for the amazing world tour collab for @svthub. i'm excited that i got to be part of it! the full fic will be posted on june 28th. if you'd like to be tagged, leave a comment, send an ask, or fill out my permanent tag form here

taglist: @aaniag, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged.

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs.

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look.

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera.

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh.

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.”

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.”

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures.

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window.

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover.

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card.

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles.

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.”

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel.

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease.

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “It wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.”

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture.

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.”

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

i hope you enjoyed this little snippet!

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da-rulah · 5 months ago

Note

Could you please do fan fic where Copia is gay or/and with a ftm(female to male) trans guy?

This has been on my mind since you requested it, and I apologise it's taken so long. Can you believe I missed out on writing this during PRIDE MONTH!? What a twat. I apologise. Usual stuff; work/life balance, writing for my big fics etc. etc but you had me at 'gay copia'. I hope you enjoy...

18+, MDNI! CW/ MxM, soft smut, comfort, gay sex, anal fingering, anal penetration, hand job, cumming inside, this is soppy as shit and I love it fight me.

OH MY GOD there's art to go with this now... Thank you so much to my incredibly talented bestie, @delulluart for this stunning pencil drawing. (Warning, it's NSFW... of course.)

Tagging my usual tag list, but if this kind of thing isn't for you, then that's absolutely fine. 💕

Do you know how tiring it is to always be in command? To always be the figure of authority? Copia does. There's no escape from it... He has no choice but to be the figurehead of the ministry, the one everybody turns to for help, for advice, for relief...

How was he ever supposed to feel relief? Who would take care of his stresses? Who would allow him the space to just let go?

Today, he practically crawls back into his chambers, just grateful to be in a place he can call his own again. No disturbances or expectations; just peace to unwind. Except, he wasn't alone. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, there he is; his lover, Brother Adan, stepping from the bedroom to greet him in his living space.

"Hello handsome," he smirks, his eyes soft with adoration. "I saw your schedule today, figured you may want to see me?"

He was correct; Copia very much wanted to see him.

"You always know what I want before I do, eh?" Copia chuckles, slumping back against the door. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long..."

"You know I wouldn't mind if you did," he shrugs, walking over to Copia and wrapping his arms around his soft waist. "What do you need tonight, Papa? Cuddles and computer games, or do you need to uh... release your frustrations?"

Copia thought for a moment. He wasn't sure he had the energy, and frankly, he'd been commanding his clergy around all damn day. The last thing he wanted to do was come home and be the picture of dominance again. He wanted to be taken care of, to be reminded what it was like to let someone else take control. But in the arrangement Copia had with his Adan, they had never reversed the roles like that.

He was sure that he was capable, no doubt about that, but it just so happened that the natural roles of their situationship had made Copia the giver, and Adan the receiver. He hesitated, wondering if it might sound silly to request he give up his Papa authority for the night.

"Papa, what is it?" Adan asked, concerned. He could clearly see the inner battle going on behind his bewitching eyes.

"I... was wondering if..." Copia stutters, stumbling over his words like a fool. "If you would... maybe, eh... take control, tonight?" Adan tilts his head in question, the request sinking in.

"You mean... take care of you?" he smiles, running his fingertips through Copia's greying and overgrown hair. Copia nods meekly, unable to look him in the eye. "Oh, Copia... Don't feel any shame for that. Of course I can. You must be so tired of being in command all the time, hm?"

Copia meets his eyes, full of understanding and compassion. "Sí..."

"I'm sorry I never offered this before. You must have thought I was only happy to bottom, hm?" Adan chuckled. "I just thought that's what you wanted, but I can do both, my love." Adan moves the hand still around Copia's waist to his gloved hand, lacing his fingers with his own. "Come on, come and lay down with me."

Adan slowly leads Copia into the bedroom, gently as if guiding an exhausted gazelle to a watering hole. Copia could already feel himself sinking into a role of submission, tension beginning to drain from his shoulders from the relief of being allowed the space to fall.

Without a word, Adan sat him at the end of the bed, crouching down at his feet to remove his shoes and socks one at a time. Copia sat and watched, dumbfounded, as Adan meticulously and slowly undressed him layer by layer, until he was sat completely nude and vulnerable. Then as Adan stood upright and stepped back, he held eye contact with Copia, sweet and playful, as he too undressed himself.

"Lay back, Copia," he instructed, crawling onto the bed beside him and following until they both lay on the pillows, Copia on his back and staring innocently into Adan's eyes who lay on his side, propped up by his elbow.

Adan began to trace his fingertips over Copia's bare chest, running through the salt and pepper chest hair over his pecks and down across his stomach, only to tease as he got lower by retreating back up. Copia gulped, his bare hands balling into fists at his sides to refrain from moving. Adan didn't miss the way his cock, laying heavy and soft against his hip, had begun to fill out just from the lightest of touches.

Adan's hand travelled down the length of Copia's torso one more time, before retreating and coming to cradle his cheek and pull him towards him for a deep, slow kiss. Copia moaned immediately, gripping the sheets below him. His mind went blank, any and all stress from the day clearing out only to be replaced by fog.

As they lost themselves in their slow kiss, tongues marrying together deliciously, Adan reached his hand down one more time, finally reaching for Copia's length and palming him against his thigh. It hadn't taken long, but both men were completely erect, enjoying the sensual nature of their embrace.

As soon as Adan's hand finally wrapped around Copia's shaft, his jaw went slack, a moan rumbling from within. Adan kept kissing him, unbothered that Copia had stopped and only wanting to continue to please his Papa.

"Is this enough, my love? Or do you wish for more tonight?" he asked, wanting to give Copia the experience he needed tonight, utterly selflessly.

"Per favore, amore... will you fill me? I-It's been so long since I've felt that," he gasped, stuttering while Adan's hand worked him in long, languid strokes.

"Of course, sweet thing. Let me prep you first, hm? We can't rush this..."

"Sí, sí," Copia babbled, allowing Adan to roll him over onto his front and spread his knees just enough. Copia kept supplies in his bedside cabinet for convenience since Adan began staying the night a lot more often, and so Adan reached for the bottle of lubrication he knew he'd need.

He still lay beside Copia, wanting him to feel secure, loved and comforted by his body pressing into his, still able to deliver kisses and praises directly to Copia's ear.

He began with one finger, allowing the slick digit to circle Copia's already fluttering rim before he attempted to dip inside. Copia felt incredibly relaxed already, but with the stimulation to his hole he was struggling all the more to keep his hips still against the bed, rutting his erection into the mattress. Adan just smiled at his responsive partner, knowing he was already feeling the pleasure he'd intended.

With an extra drizzle of lubrication, Adan began to press his fingertip into Copia, slowly to accommodate the stretch that he certainly wasn't used to these days. Copia groaned in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried half his face in the pillow below him. His paints were going to transfer to the sheets, but that was a problem for later. He needed grounding in that moment.

Adan did his best to work Copia open with just the one finger at first, eventually adding two. All the while, Copia was losing his mind at the sensation. So close to his prostate, and yet, not enough for stimulation; it was winding him up, building a knot of dull tension in his abdomen.

With some time, Adan was able to use three fingers, widening the gap for himself to fit neatly inside when the time came. Copia's groans and whines were muffled by his pillow, and yet each one travelled straight down to Adan's cock, which Copia could feel against his hip while he toyed with his hole.

"A-Adan, please..." Copia begged, professing that he was ready without having to say the words.

"Shhh, it's okay Copia. I've got you," he soothed, retracting his fingers and rolling Copia onto his side so he faced away from him. He reached for the lube again, this time coating his own length generously, before dribbling more where Copia would need him. "We'll take it slow, hm?"

"Yes, yes, just please... I need you, Adan..." Adan chuckled a little at that, sliding his palm between Copia's thighs so he could lift one and allow him the room to line his tip up with Copia's hole.

The initial stretch was uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant thanks to Adan's careful preparation. And still, he was gentle, giving Copia plenty of time to get used to him inch by inch. Already, Adan was becoming drunk on the gasps and moans that spilled from Copia's lips, and he couldn't help but press kisses to his neck, nipping gently at the skin whil his hands squeezed Copia's thigh in an attempt to control his own pleasures. It had been a while for Adan too, to feel the tightness of another man around him. Fuck, how he missed it...

Copia gained some confidence, rocking his hips back into Adan's and reaching his arm back to hold his hips in place to bounce against. Adan groaned against Copia's shoulder, losing himself to the passion of the moment too.

After a little while, he could take it no longer, rolling Copia to have his back pressed to his chest and sitting himself up enough to grip tightly onto the back of Copia's neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss as he pistoned his hips deep into him. Copia lifted his leg for a better angle, wrapping his own arm around Adan's bicep and holding on tightly as he groaned into the kiss, each thrust audibly stuttering his moans.

The pair were completely wrapped up in each other, losing themselves together. Adan's grip on Copia's neck tightened, before dropping down to press into Copia's stomach and digging his fingertips into the softness of his belly. Fucking hell, Adan loved his body, soft and warm in his grip. He could feel the way his stomach turned into rolls each time he thrusted into him, Copia curling up tightly each time.

With every upward thrust, Copia's prostate was throbbing with pleasure, his cock bouncing from the force of Adan's movements and aching from the lack of contact. He could only whine at the feeling of being so close, so fucking close, that he thought his entire body was about to burst.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to tell Adan how much he adored him, how much he needed this but just the thought of parting their heated kiss as he fucked into him was regretful. but it was Adan who parted first, grunting and growling in a way Copia rarely heard from him. He was about to cum deep inside his Papa, unable to stop himself and so his pace picked up, determined to finish Copia off before himself.

He reached his hand down to wrap his deft fingers around Copia's shaft, beginning to pump him to completion while he hammered into his prostate. Copia cried out, his nails digging into Adan's arm as his eyes rolled back into his head and his body lost it's fight to stay composed. Copia's cock jerked in Adan's hand, thick ropes of warm cum erupting onto his own stomach with the last remnants dribbling down Adan's fist. The sight and sound alone was enough to finish Adan off, his rhythm falling off as he shot his own load deep inside Copia.

Adan stilled, enjoying the last few minutes of connection sheathed inside Copia's warmth as the two of them came down from their highs, heavy breaths and gentle whimpers filling the silence. Copia's eyes fluttered open, searching Adan's who seemed to be doing the same - asking a silent question, or confessing a silent thought.

"I think... I think I am I love with you, Adan..." Copia whispered, losing his confidence the moment he uttered a syllable. Neither of them had expected something quite this serious when their arrangement began, but there was no denying the electricity between them.

Adan just grinned, once again holding Copia close to him by the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the sweat dampened locks of hair at the nape.

"And it would seem, Papa, I'm in love with you too," he admitted, not a moment of hesitation now he knew where Copia was too. The two men shared a soft kiss, longing for one another as if they weren't as close as could possibly be right then.

"I suggest a nice, soothing, hot bath to recover, hm? Let the stress just melt away, together?" Adan proposed, stroking the hair from Copia's forehead. He could only nod in response, too tired and drunk on him to form words. "I'll be right back, my love."

With a kiss to the tip of Copia's barely painted nose, Adan gently removed himself from his side and made his way into the bathroom to run a hot bath filled with salts and essential oils to soothe his poor Papa's body and mind.

The two of them spent the evening in the bath together, Copia enveloped in the warmth of the water and his lover behind him. He'd never been so cared for, so loved by another than he was with Adan around. Suddenly, the burden of being Papa didn't feel quite so heavy anymore...

#ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #the band ghost fanfic #ghost #cardinal copia #ghost the band #papa emeritus iv #da rulah writes #copia #cardinal copia x reader smut #cardinal copia smut #copia smut #papa emeritus iv smut #papa copia smut

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stranger-opinions · 2 months ago

Text

maybe it's not a writers-block; maybe you just need a break

creativity is a muscle, right?

you need to exercise it to keep it in good shape, to have it ready when you need it and don't we all love those hyperfocused sprints of writing where the words just spill out of our fingertips...

but muscles get sore when you overuse them, will strain when you force them past their limits, they need nourishment to stay healthy and in shape

fandom today has a competitive atmosphere. many wouldn't admit that; it's supposed to be fun after all. just vibing with our mutuals, playing with the blorbos having a fun time online to scratch a few itches.

but the truth is that it can become a lot of pressure rather fast.

putting out several k of (edited) writing a month, setting up painstakingly formatted posts with the right tags and a fun header we spent hours on to look effortlessly cool and eye-catching just to hit post and then feel... nervous. excited too, sure...

but damn, when will the next chapter be finished? or the next one shot? will there be enough time to put a few blubs in between so that the few people who actually seem to care won't forget about us and move on?

writing for writing's sake is a nice notion. the myth of the self-sustaining artist who needs nothing more than a passion and their tools of choice.

but shit isn't just created out of nothing.

what has that all to do with the title of this post do you ask?

very few people can just keep going and going making art like that without needing any breaks and a good portion of those people very likely have very different conditions than most of us have with full-time jobs, families, school and so on.

For many of us writing is a main outlet, an important hobby and a safe space but that still doesn't change that it is a creative hobby, an outlet that demands energy: emotional, mental and physical (typing for hours is hard work if you want to believe it or not) and that sometimes makes it impossible to accept that we just need a fucking break.

"writers-block", in my own experience, is my brain telling me that something is off and that it's on strike until I fucking fix that.

and sometimes it's just that I need a break.

that I need to recharge my creative batteries, take in things that inspire me, that make me happy and get me excited without having to make anything myself. to just be. take some walks amongst trees, watch a new series, read a new book, go into a deep dive of some random topic on wikipedia until I don't know where the fuck I started from.

sometimes I just need to log out, cut the overstimulation of a never ending dashboard, turn off what everybody else on tumblr is doing, how much everbody is putting out, get away from my frustration about "my flopped fic" or the latest fandom drama and reconnect with the real reason I am doing this.

the love for stories and the source material.

for some people those breaks can be as short as two days, for other is might be weeks or months and that is not only okay but totally normal.

sometimes you might realize that the reason you are not writing is that you actually don't want to. sometimes you just want to daydream without the extra work sometimes you're just not in a writing mood and it's not much deeper than that.

that doesn't have to mean you're done with your blorbos. it just means that there are more valid and fun ways to play with them.

don't worry, the fandom will still be there when you decide to pick up the keyboard again. maybe with less people, maybe with many different people but you will always find someone who cares. those who have moved on to different things not come back wouldn't likely have stayed if you had powered through.

fandom shouldn't be a you're in or you're out thing but a place you come to when you want to.

contentification of fandom has had a lot of negative effects on the way we create and so many people fade from their hobby because they simply burn themselves out to a point where it leaves a scar.

so. find something that makes you happy that does not require you to invest too much creational energy. rest those muscles as long as it takes.

nothing you can get on tumblr or ao3 is worth the sore brain, the frustration with yourself and the stress you add onto your mental health ontop of everything else in your life.

recharge, reevaluate, reconnect

have fun

#fandom discourse #fandom problems #writers block #fandom #fanfiction #fanfiction writers

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ninadove · 3 months ago

Note

For any fandom(s): 12, 15, 16, 19, 23! 💌

As always, you spoil me! 💌

12. Compliment someone else in your fandom

GOD I HAVE TOO MANY FRIENDS TO COMPLIMENT

@beezonia comes up with the coolest AUs and designs. I’m always blown away by their Pokémon team compositions — they’re spot on to the point I consider it its own form of character analysis!

@purplecatghostposts is the genius who showed up out of the blue and took us all by surprise with their amazing prose. Soap, reminder that the reference to Copycat in consider the spare legally binds you to pay for my therapy.

@trishacollins is single-handedly remediating to the lack of platonic bedsharing between the cousins and I can’t thank her enough! She’s also one of the chillest and most approachable people I know.

@luckychatons is our favourite entrepunpurr and constantly lifts our mood with the cutest, most joy-filled sketches! Patting her OCs on the back because they sure need it.

@graythegreyt is such an awesome artist you’d almost forget they’re also one hell of a poet who wields mythological references like Odysseus wields his bow. Did you know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games? I think everyone should know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games.

@hartwign is a talented translator and draws hair like no one else. Seriously. I want to run my hands through the cousins’ hair and nestle in there forever.

@phieillydinyia is the picture of dedication! Can’t recommend Candle In The Wind enough, it’s a roleswap rewrite of the Miraculous movie that includes the songs. How cool is that. Thank you for your regular comments on my fics, they always make my day!

@alexandriaellisart words cannot express how much I love your depiction of Feligami. Your writing has made me tear up so many times! AND YOUR ART LOOKS SO SOFT AND COLOURFUL. What a double threat!

@faiirygrahamdevanily we need more fics about the Sentiplot as a metaphor for othering experiences and you’re doing God’s… I mean, Duusu’s work with yours!

@bbutterflies did you know your piece for Sentitwin Week is the best characterisation I’ve ever seen of Felix? This is what people mean when they say a picture is worth a thousand words. And of course your Adrino is always brilliant!

@bittersweetresilience not only are you an extraordinary writer, but you’re constantly looking for new ways to express your love. Always GIFing and weaving and canonising tags and making AMVs and running zines… I can’t wait to see what you do next!

And there’s so many more people I’m forgetting! To say nothing of my friends outside the Miraculous bubble! People are amazing!!! 💖

15. The character that always makes you smile

At the end of the day, it’s all about Clive. He’s been my muse for nearly 15 years! 💙🕊️

16 was answered here! 💖

19. Your current fandom(s)

Professor Layton, forever and always. I can’t wait to share my Big Bang fic and the amazing art that I was blessed with! 💙💛

RWBY, even if I’m lurking more than participating… I love love love love RWBY, yet it doesn’t strike my creative and analytical chords the way Miraculous does. Sometimes you just need to let yourself be swept into a story, you know? Although, it did teach me a couple of writing tricks I’ve used for other fandoms!

EPIC! Wisdom Saga coming soon! 🩵🦉 It makes my little mythology nerd heart supremely happy. The music is a banger and you can feel the knowledge and passion of all the people involved in this project. Jorge in particular is always so excited to share his progress, engaging with creators, explaining his musical choices in a fun and pedagogical way… And the lyrics! It’s free real estate for a fanfic author looking for inspiration and/or titles!

I’d love to start Monte-Cristoposting like I’ve been Cyranoposting and Draculaposting, but I’m afraid of spoilers so for now I’m just screaming in your DMs. As you know. I’m also slowly getting into Honkai: Star Rail, and I’d like to pick up Pokémon Black and White again because a N character study would look great on my AO3 resume.

And of course, Miraculous! 💚💜❤️ It’s the most creative I’ve been in years and it’s all thanks to these sad beautiful silly genius kids. Heart emoji, peacock emoji, sob emoji, etc.

23 was answered here!

Thanks for the ask! 🖤🪶

#miraculous ladybug #professor layton #ask games

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fueledbysano · 1 year ago

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐖 Izana Kurokawa

ligaw. [noun] courtship; dating; woo. the university's local rockstar tries to win your heart in his classy ways ♡

♱ izana kurokawa x fem!reader

♱ tags, and for my favorite people in the fandom, Izana stans 🖤 : @hiraethsdesires @fuyuluvr @izanazqueen @iluvizana @half-baked-biscuit @ask-the-insect-hashira @sukunassuka @izanapogi @em-plosion @chrofeisnightmaregf @mattsune

♱ a/n: belated happy birthday to our king 🫀 I'm sure all my filipina girlies will agree when I say that Izana is that expensive guy who hangs out a lot in bgc and is probably famous in campus.

Izana Kurokawa was quite a popular guy on campus at his university in the Philippines. He was a part of the “Tenjiku” band, playing the guitar, and he was known for his love of motorcycles and his skill on two wheels. He was known to make quite an entrance when he parked his bike before his classes.

Izana had always been a bit of a control freak when it came to his precious guitar. It was the day of the university’s annual festival night, and his band was going to perform. Izana's instrument was like an extension of himself. He took great care of it, tuning it to perfection before each show and making sure that no one else touched it without his permission. Not even his band mates, he knew they were professionals themselves, but he trusted it to no one but himself.

So as Tenjiku bandmates were doing a soundcheck on the empty stage, Izana’s heart dropped when he saw a stage crew carrying his guitar. Her name plate read “[ Y / N ]” at the front, carrying his guitar carefully. If she wasn’t wearing the pass, he would’ve mistaken her for another performer, considering how attractive and how nice she was styled too.

He usually would’ve thrown a fit, but it wasn't just that she was touching his precious instrument, but the way she was carrying it. She was holding it with such care, like it was a priceless work of art rather than just a tool for playing music.

“What are you doing with my guitar?” he asked, his tone serious.

“Some amateurs and I think… fans managed to get backstage and peek at your instrument,” [ Y / N ] explained. "I couldn't let them touch it, so I took it to you. Sorry if I intruded."

Izana was impressed by her care and consideration. He knew how much his guitar meant to him, and he was grateful to have someone like her who understood that. “I’ll get someone to bring you guys’ your water bottles too, the performance starts soon.”

And so as Izana was performing on stage, his guitar ringing out over the crowds as they cheered and clapped. He was in his element, the music flowing through him like blood, the energy of the crowd pulsing through his veins.

But as the set went on, he started to notice that his guitar was sounding a little off. It wasn't much, just a slight distortion that seemed to be coming from the speakers, but it was enough to rattle his concentration. He couldn't focus on the music, constantly worrying about whether the audience was hearing the same thing.

Luckily, [ Y / N ] seemed to be listening in, because she quickly rushed up to the sound booth to fix the distortion. "There we go," she whispered, her voice low and calm. Izana quickly peeked at her from a distance, grateful for the assistance. She quickly started to tinker with the equipment, checking the cables and fixing a few loose connections after giving him a quick nod.

Izana couldn't help but feel a pang of attraction at what she just did. She seemed so passionate about her work, and he couldn't help but admire that.

Izana was still riding the high of his band's performance at the end of the night, when he spotted [ Y / N ] at the parking lot. As he made her way towards her , he felt a sense of anticipation, eager to see her again. “Hey.” he said, catching up. “Thanks for all the help again today.”

[ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel her heart rushing as she looked up at him. She felt a mix of emotions– admiration, attraction, and a bit of nervousness. “Of course,” she said, a hint of exhaustion mixing with her kind tone. “You guys did so well. I liked your set.”

Izana smiled at her words, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. “Thanks,” he said. “You know, I never let anyone touch my guitar, but you carried it like a pro. Not to mention, you noticed the off-distortion in the middle of my performance. I must say, that was really impressive.” He smiled. “At least let me take you to your place. It’s getting late too.”

As they rode through Taguig City, [ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and adventure. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, and the way the city lights stretched out before her like a dazzling kaleidoscope. Izana was the perfect driver, making their trip smooth and comfortable.

Despite the late hour, the streets were still full of people– college students, young professionals, and tourists alike. The city was alive with energy, and it felt as though they were being called in.

As they neared the corner, Izana spotted a food bazaar and immediately made a left turn. [ Y / N ] followed his lead, smiling as she took in the sights and sounds of the bustling night market. “I love this place,” Izana said, dismounting the motorcycle and helping [ Y / N ] down. They were immediately met by the colorful stalls, the sizzling sounds of meat cooking, and the call of the vendors. [ Y / N ] followed Izana through the maze of tents and stalls, trying to make sense of the smells, sounds and smells that attacked her senses.

Finally, they reached a stall that seemed to capture Izana's attention, and she watched as he ordered a plate of sisig (spicy pork dish) and a serving of white rice while [ Y / N ] settled with a simple order of Lumpia (egg rolls).

[ Y / N ] couldn't help but smile, appreciating the joy on his face. She had never seen a grown man enjoy food so much. As they sat there, she couldn't help but think about how much they had done together in such a short amount of time. It had only been a night, and she had gone from never having heard of him to having a well-deserved late dinner together after a long day of putting up a show for everyone in the university.

The night air was cool and crisp, and the sounds of the street vendors and bustling crowds filled their ears as they walked. The vendor poured the frosty coconut juice into two glasses and handed them over to Izana, who smiled and held out one of the glasses to [ Y / N ]. She took a sip, and the cool liquid refreshed her after the long, hot day. The juice was creamy and sweet with a hint of coconut, and [ Y / N ] found herself finishing the glass before she knew it.

As they rode through the city, the lights and billboards shining brightly against the nighttime sky, [ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement. It was one of those moments that made her feel tiny and insignificant, like she was just a spec in the vastness of the universe.

Izana rode with a sense of ease and grace, his eyes scanning the streets for any potential hazards. She felt safe and secure in his arms, like he was her personal guardian from the world's dangers.

As they neared her dorm, she couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. The night had flown by in a flash, and she wasn't ready for it to be over. But she knew that it was only the beginning of their time together. She knew that there would be many more nights like this, many more adventures and experiences to share.

and she was right, it was just the beginning of something beautiful with Izana. Him being a man of class and culture, Izana went on going above and beyond to truly show [ Y / N ] that he was serious about her.

He would surprise her with gifts, take her on unforgettable dates, and become her personal rider as they go to and go home from school together on his bike. He was a true gentleman, and made sure she was comfortable.

He was a natural leader, someone who was always in control, always focused and driven. And yet, he was also sensitive and compassionate, always putting [ Y / N ]'s needs above his own. He was a man with a kind heart and a fierce love for those he cared about, and [ Y / N ] knew that she was one of the lucky ones to have him in her life.

Izana was a true connoisseur of the finer things in life, and he loved sharing that with [ Y / N ]. She was flattered that he took such joy in showing her the luxurious and artistic side of the city, and she knew that these experiences would be forever etched in her memory. These activities not only brought them closer together, but also made them appreciate the beauty of life and the world around them.

So as an arts lover through and through, he loved taking [ Y / N ] to art museums and galleries, where they could spend hours gazing at the incredible works of art, appreciating the beauty of each piece. From the historically rich walls of Manila into the imposing architecture in Bonifacio Global City, they would stroll along the streets, surrounded by high-rise buildings and lush greenery. The city was alive with energy, and there was always something new to discover.

As much as they loved high-end corners of Taguig, Izana and [ Y / N ] would often venture out to Cubao, the place to be for the local music scene where they could catch local bands jamming out and performing live music. It was a unique experience, and they could feel the energy of the crowd as they watched the bands on stage.

They enjoyed exploring different venues and checking out different genres, from rock to indie to even jazz. Izana was a big fan of rock and indie music, so they often frequented places like the Hard Rock Cafe, which featured local bands playing these genres. [ Y / N ], on the other hand, enjoyed exploring different genres and discovering new bands that Izana loved. They loved the experience of trying out different sounds and seeing the different reactions of the crowd.

It was during these moments that [ Y / N ] felt the most in tune with Izana. They would rock out to their favorite songs, sharing headphones and singing along together. It was a way for them to express themselves, and even though they had different music tastes, they found common ground in their shared love of live music.

[ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and commitment that Izana showed her every day. She was truly blessed to have found someone like him, who was not only her lover, but also her best friend, her confidant, and her soulmate. She knew that their love was something special, something that would last a lifetime.

So when [ Y / N ] gave Izana her sweet "yes", everything was worth it. As Izana held [ Y / N ] in his arms, the whole world seemed to fade away. All he could see and feel was her, and their shared love. He had waited for this moment for so long, and now it was finally here. Everything had led up to this moment - the long nights of studying, the late nights of conversation, and the sweet moments shared together.

It was now as if they were one, united in their love for one another. They had started as friends, and now they were partners, companions, and lovers. It was a journey that had taken them from strangers to soulmates, and it was one that they would always share from now on.

#tokyo revengers #Izana Kurokawa #kurokawa izana x reader #izana x reader #izana x you #izana x y/n #izana kurokawa x reader #izana x reader fluff #izana fluff #filo!izana

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tgmsunmontue · 10 months ago

Text

With our pets, a house becomes our home

5k Hangster MeetCute (Explicit, but not very by my standards). Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to after he adopts her and moves to Corpus Christi to be a flying instructor.

I started this fic before I saw @yeagrave's art, but this post is 100% Jake's lockscreen (and those are a set of Jake's spare dog tags).

Monday mornings generally suck. The people who have left their pets wellness until normal business hours because they didn’t want to pay the extra emergency fees. He quietly judges them. This Monday sucks more than most though, because he’s covering another vet on what is meant to be his day off. But he doesn’t want to make the admin staff have to reshuffle the thirty or so appointments that he now has facing him in a long gauntlet of monotony. Hopefully there will be something interesting that pops up.

He deals with the standard checkups, listens to heart murmurs, administers vaccines, makes notes for the techs, gives instructions about diets he knows get ignored by owners who think they know better. He has to change his scrubs when a dog vomits on him and yeah… he wants his day off back with a deep burning passion but pushes through. He can shower and blob when he gets home and bitch and moan to his friends. They can compare Mondayitis stories and see who comes out worst.

He steps into the waiting room, and there’s only two people left, one a woman with two kittens in a carrier, and the other a man cradling a puppy. He’s only got one left for his ticket today, and it’s a puppy so okay, at least he gets to look at a cute puppy and a cuter guy.

“Brisket?”

The guy blushes and Bradley can’t help his smile getting bigger as he gestures toward the consultation room.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hi, I’m Bradley. What brings Brisket in today?”

“She needs a general checkup, and I wanted to register her with a vet since I moved here in the weekend… She needs vaccines I think? And to be fixed? And I wanted to ask some questions?”

“So she’s here for the works… can I have a look?” Bradley asks and the guy blushes again, looks down at the tiny bundle who looks back at him adoringly and Bradley has a thing for guys who like animals. Couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t like animals, wouldn’t feel like he could trust them. He hands the puppy over to Bradley and he handles her gently, lets her lick and sniff at him a little before lowering her to the examination table.

“Tell me about how you got Brisket,” Bradley says, running his hands down the little body, grinning as she happily licks his fingers, tail wagging enthusiastically. She’s very sweet. Most guys like having big dogs, so he’s genuinely curious as to whether this guy chose this dog, or if he’s here at the bequest of someone else. Girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. Purely out of professional courtesy.

“Uh, I’ve wanted a dog for ages. Finally getting settled in one place for a while so I figured it was finally time you know? So I went to the shelter in San Diego, not really intending to adopt then and there…”

“She’s a rescue?” Bradley says, and he’s a little surprised. Because if they’re not big dogs then they’re usually little dog breeds, so some hybrid-cross-breed that some breeder thinks will be in demand. This little thing hadn’t looked like any breed he was familiar with, but there’s so many new ones and he’s not usually up with them all.

“Well yeah, of course. She just had such a friendly personality you know?”

“She is very sweet natured,” Bradley agrees, because the guy is clearly besotted with his puppy, and it’s adorable. He listens to her heart and lungs, takes her temperature and soothes her through the discomfit.

“So did you have paperwork showing what she’s already been vaccinated for? Most shelters give you adoption paperwork?”

“Oh, yeah, they did. One second,” the guy says, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his pocket and handing them over. On the top of the paper are all the details of the dog, and then down the bottom the details of the new owner. Jake Seresin. At least he has a name now.

“Okay, so she’s all up to date with all the vaccines, she’ll need to come back in six weeks for a booster. And we don’t do on the spot spaying or neutering, you’ll have to make an appointment when she’s a little older. Try not to let her out unattended, because we don’t want to be adding to the puppy population, regardless of the fact that she’d no doubt make gorgeous babies…You a first time dog owner?”

“I grew up on a ranch, had lots of animals. Horses mainly. Well, beef stock. But lots of working animals, not pets. She’s my first.”

“Well, you made a good choice. She’s got a lovely temperament. Nice and healthy,” Bradley states, laughing as she tries to chew on his thumb and he reaches for a dog toy from the jar. “Okay, so she’s going to be mouthy, she’ll want to chew on things as her adult teeth come through. You might find a couple of puppy teeth lying around but they usually just swallow them. It’s all normal. You have any questions?”

“Uh…I… um. Made a list.”

“Sensible,” Bradley says, and this guy’s adorable intensity is commendable, he wished more owners thought to ask their vets the questions rather than trusting Google.

“You’ve, uh, already answered a few of them actually.”

“That’s good, what else have you got?”

He asks about diet and exercise, sleep and routines, anxiety and separation and toilet training and Bradley answers them all, writes down a few notes and links to some reputable websites. Recommends a puppy obedience course, steers him away from problematic dog toys which can cause more harm than good. The appointment definitely runs well over the time, but it’s his last of the day and he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be, and after the day he’s had this is a nice silver lining.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much, it’s really helped.”

“You’re more than welcome. I guess I just have a question for you now.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I don’t usually do this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?”

“A drink. Like…A date?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”

“Great, let me get a card.” He grabs a business card, usually reserved for when he goes to conferences, carefully prints his personal cell phone number on the back and hands it over. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

… … …

Jake gets back to his house and immediately lets Brisket out into the back garden, looks at the little rectangular piece of card and puts the number into his phone before he loses it. He puts the name in as Bradley but then follows it with the flame emoji, followed by the guy with the moustache and then the dog emoji. That’s enough to remind him of who exactly Bradley is. Not that he thinks he’s going to need the reminder.

He spends some time looking at the websites Bradley has recommended, sends an enquiry about the puppy obedience classes. He’d already made an appointment for the booster shots and for getting Brisket fixed. Definitely doesn’t want to wait that long before seeing Bradley again. He grins. Only in town for five days and he’s got a guys number. Without even trying. Phoenix told him a puppy would help him make friends, that he needed as much help as he could, maybe she was onto something.

Hi Bradley. This is Jake. Let me know when you want to do that drink. I don’t start work until next week so currently free as a bird.

It’s not too late, and it’s been a couple of hours. He’s not going to play hard to get. He’s never considered himself hard to get when the guy is as attractive as Bradley is, and he’s never been one to play games or overthink setting up dates or hookups. He’s hoping this is maybe more than a hookup.

I’m free most evenings. Tomorrow? Dinner?

Jake grins, likes the idea of dinner even more than a drink, it’s a good sign; sends a message back, organizing a time but asking for recommendations of where they could go to eat.

… … …

They settle at a table and quickly peruse the menu before placing orders with the hovering waitstaff. They’ve made superficial small-talk about the weather and how Brisket is doing, but he’s hoping he can find out more about Jake himself.

“So you’re new to the area?”

“Uh yeah, I guess. I lived here a while back but am back for work.”

“And what do you do for work?”

“I’m in the Navy. An aviator,” Jake says, like he’s a little unsure.

“You’re shitting me…” Bradley says with a disbelieving laugh, because he’s had a guy tell him he was a naval aviator before. Except he hadn’t been and the lie had quickly bitten the other guy in the ass when Bradley had quickly realized and called him out on it. It had been a shame because Bradley had genuinely liked him.

“Why would I lie?”

“Well, some guys think it’ll sound impressive…”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well… maybe to some guys,” Bradley concedes.

“Not you?”

“No. Not to me. I’m more impressed you adopted a rescue, travelled across country with it and care about your puppy than what you might or might not do for your work.”

“Most people care that I disappear for months on end. Or have a thing against the military in general.”

“Huh,” Bradley states, realizing that that was maybe where his hesitance had come from. “I’m used to people being away for long periods,” Bradley states. Jake raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m just… I was a Navy brat. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Grew up on bases, spent most of my life on them. We probably know some of the same people, if you’re actually a naval aviator…” Bradley says, still giving him an out, because maybe this guy is not realising the hole he’s dug.

“How do you figure?”

“My dad was a naval aviator, and until very recently my godfather was also a naval aviator, although he’s recently retired. Although I don’t think the Navy will actually ever get rid of him. He’s pretty entrenched.”

“Yeah, what’s his name?”

“Pete Mitchell,” Bradley provides, and Jake’s immediate response makes him relax a little. That’s definitely recognition of the name.

“Maverick? Mav’s your godfather?”

Bradley opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. Not just recognition but more than that. He's calling him Mav. Of fucking course he knows Mav, and he hadn’t used his callsign so this guy is legitimately a naval aviator.

“You know Mav huh?”

“Yeah. He’s… damn. He’s fucking insane but so good. He was brought in to train us and he’s just… that good.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego doesn’t need to be made any bigger.”

“He deserves his ego, he’s fucking legendary.”

“You sound like a fan.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. He’s… worthy of fans.”

“Yeah well, he’s my godfather. So there you go.”

“Wait, are you little goose?”

“Oh god…” Bradley groans.

“You are!”

“Yeah yeah… this is quickly losing the date vibe.”

“Sorry, I can bring it back to that,” Jake says, and his hand is suddenly resting on Bradley’s, warm and dry, fingers stroking the back of his hand.

“Yeah, think you better or you might strike out…”

“Wouldn’t want that…” Jake says, and his eyes are dark and amused and Bradley feels a little thrill at being the subject of his intense gaze.

“So, you’re an actual naval aviator.”

“Yeah, no wonder you aren’t impressed if you grew up hearing about Mav’s exploits. Fuck.”

“Trust me, I find you plenty impressive.”

“Good to know,” Jake says, his smile clearly pleased. “I’m one of the new flight instructors. Have a three-year stint here and Kingsville unless they need me for something special.”

“Nice. Do you like teaching?”

Their conversation changes as they talk more, discussing what their upbringings were like, their families, respective careers, all of Bradley’s current animals, favorite food and drink. It’s easy, their humor similar and gently teasing at times, making laughter come easily. It’s one of the best first-dates he’s ever had and it’s not until there’s a polite cough that he looks up to see the rest of the restaurant is empty, the waitstaff having clearly cleared up and are now just waiting on them. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly midnight and his mind bugs out a little.

“Shit, sorry. I guess we got caught up talking.”

“It’s fine.”

He grabs the bill, leaving a generous tip for keeping them and tells Jake he can grab the bill next time, which has him murmuring next time huh under his breath, close to Bradley’s ear as they walk close together as they step outside. There are only two cars left in the lot and he guesses the staff must park somewhere else. He walks Jake to his car, only a few yards from his own truck.

“I had a really good time tonight…” Bradley starts.

“Me too. Wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“Having dinner with this hot guy I just met…”

“What a weird coincidence, so am I…”

He shifts forward, eyes searching Jake’s face to make sure there isn’t any hesitation before placing a gentle kiss on Jake’s mouth. He pulls back slowly, his lips quirking in amusement when Jake quickly gives him another kiss back, slightly firmer and longer and he feels the flicker of warm anticipation come to life in his belly. Potential something.

“Don’t suppose I can tempt you to come back to my place?”

“I’m definitely tempted, but I’ve got to get home. Dogs.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Bring Brisket on Saturday. She can meet the pack…”

He doesn’t want to mention that Jake could also bring all her gear, as well as a spare toothbrush for himself.

… … …

They’ve been messaging since dinner on Tuesday and Jake feels completely settled into his house now, he’s driven to both Corpus Christi and Kingsville to familiarize himself with the routes. He’s taken Brisket to her first puppy obedience class, figured out the most convenient grocery store. All week he’s been looking forward to Saturday, packs some things and leaves them in has car, so if he needs any of it they’ll be close at hand. If it’s effectively a sleepover backpack for him and Brisket that’s between him and Brisket.

He pulls into the drive of the house address Bradley had given him and looks at the tall fence that surrounds the back garden, can already hear barking and he looks down at Brisket who is sitting there, ears pricking forward at the sound of other dogs. He gets out, grabs her bag of stuff and carries her toward the house, glad she at least seems curious about the barking rather than terrified. He rings the bell, eyes widening at the sudden increase in barking and then Bradley is there, smiling at him behind the wavy glass of the door. Immediately the barking ceases, although there is a small yap, and then the door opens.

“Hi. Come on in.”

“Hi. Uh. Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

“Trust me, if anything she’ll rule them with an iron paw… feel free to put her down.”

Jake doesn’t particularly want to, but Bradley is looking expectant, as are the five dogs who are all sitting and waiting obediently. He knows they aren’t all Bradley’s dogs permanently, that he’s fostering three and dog-sitting one, but he can’t remember which one is which. Most of the dogs are normal sized, one is huge though, and he wishes he remembered which one Bradley said was his. Then a cat walks in and insolently stalks in front of the line of dogs and collapses at Bradley’s feet.

“Curtiss,” Bradley states, waving a hand at the cat with a sardonic sigh. The fact that none of the dogs have moved, except one, the largest, whose tail had started wagging enthusiastically makes Jake feel more confident about putting Brisket down. She is nowhere near as disciplined as any of the other dogs. Hell, the cat is probably more disciplined than Brisket, despite the fact it is a cat and takes direction from no one. Understandably she runs from him to Bradley, then to the cat, then back to Jake, then takes turns running to and around each dog and prancing playfully, like she expects them to play with her.

“I’m going to give them the release signal and it’s going to get chaotic, but just trust me okay? They’re well trained.”

He believes it, but sure enough in less than a second there’s barking again, six dogs suddenly all barking and then they’re running and Brisket is chasing after them and Bradley grins at him.

“I gave them the signal for outside. Brewster is too big to not be well trained, and he generally gets all other dogs quickly following his lead.”

“What kind of dog is he again?”

“A Leonberger. He was surrendered to a local shelter because the owners couldn’t afford to keep him. He eats a lot. He went unadopted because of the costs associated with feeding him, raft of potential health issues as he aged and because he had zero training. I’ve had him for five years now.”

“He’s massive,” Jake says, and he knows he’s stating the fucking obvious but when Bradley had said he had just the one big dog, he had never imagined this. He’s pretty sure Brisket is the size of one of his paws.

“Yep. But as I said, he’s very well trained. I work with him every day as well. Come on, I promised you dinner.”

“You cooked?”

“I did, but it’s only one of the five meals I can make, so don’t go thinking I’m accomplished or anything.”

“As long as it��s edible.”

He takes the offered beer, watches as Bradley dishes out some pasta dish along with some garlic bread and then directs him to sit at a high bench on bar stools rather than at the dining table.

“We don’t want Brewster putting his mouth into our food, at least up here we have a slightly better chance of protecting it.”

“I thought you said he was really well trained?”

“Not when I’m eating food. All bets are off if I’m eating.”

Jake laughs and just like it did on Tuesday, conversation flows easily. Bradley can follow his work talk easily, obviously used to Navy talk because of Mav, his own work stories are equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’s attentive, giving Jake his full attention and he finds he likes that a lot more than he thought he would. They finish dinner, Bradley quickly stacking his dishwasher before feeding the dogs. He watches as Bradley holds their attention before giving them the signal that they can eat and he can’t help but be impressed. He’s pretty sure Brisket is only going to have to look at him and he’s going to cave to her every whim. He does try and look like he’s not a complete soft touch in front of Bradley as he feeds her, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.

They go into the back lawn and throw balls for the dogs, starting an elaborate game of keep-away for about twenty minutes before Bradley offers him dessert. He wants to ask if it’s Bradley himself on offer but doesn’t, instead takes the bowl of fruit and ice-cream and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, apparently safe from Brewster as he’s afraid of the scent of fruit. There’s a collection of boardgames, none of which he’s familiar with so he asks about them and learns that it’s another of Bradley’s hobbies.

When they’re finished he follows Bradley back to the kitchen, notices it’s much quieter, almost dark outside and there’s no more barking and he looks around, suddenly anxious.

“She’s just over there…” Bradley says, his lips twitching with a smile and Jake’s not sure if he’s laughing at him or… oh. That’s fucking cute. Brisket is curled up on Brewster, she’s somehow managed to climb up the almost mountain like body and curl up on top of him. He grabs his phone and snaps a photo, and then a few more because one is never going to be enough.

“She’s all tuckered out… You going to wake her up?”

Jake looks up at Bradley’s tone, and his eyes are hooded and Jake feels an immediate jolt of arousal spark through him.

“No… she looks far too comfortable. Think I need to go to bed too…”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. Show me the way…”

… … …

They’ve not talked about what they’re doing, not in the actual physical and practical sense. Not in terms of sex and he’s definitely been raised in a house with the rule of if you can’t talk about it you shouldn’t be doing it. Which actually only goes so far when you really don’t want to share details of your sex life with your surrogate parents, or hear anything about theirs. He does agree in principle though, and there’s only one way to find out. Conversation hasn’t been difficult between them so he doesn’t expect this to be awkward either. He shifts slightly so he can rest his head on his hand while his other hand runs up and down from Jake’s shoulder to his hip.

“Anything you don’t like?”

“Uh…”

“Anything you do like? Or prefer? I’m easy…”

“Lucky me.”

“Can I touch?”

“Yeah…course.”

Bradley lets his hand rub Jake’s cock through his underwear as he kisses him, enjoys the feel of Jake’s body moving against his hand, body and mouth. Jake’s free hand runs through the hair on his chest, then his shoulders, down his arm before there are blunt nails digging into his ass; then finally a large palm rubs his cock far too fleetingly to be anything more than a frustrating taste before it starts back at the beginning.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, look, if you do something I don’t like I’ll say something okay?”

“And if I do something you like?”

“Actually, you could work on that a little bit more…”

He kisses him hard then, grinds their hips together and palms an ass cheek in his hand, holding Jake tight against him.

“Yeah, fuck…”

He shifts, pushes Jake back to lie on his back and then straddles one of Jake’s thighs. He runs both hands down Jake’s naked chest, leans down to kiss him again, hands on either side of Jake’s shoulders. Jake looks good, is confident with it, Bradley can’t help but find it attractive. He shifts a little, Jake’s hands are all over, hips lifting up to try and rub against him and Bradley would tease him for being impatient but he is starting to feel the same.

Their breathing is getting shallower, and he kisses over Jake’s collar bone, licks a little into the slight dip in his clavicle and assumes it’s a little ticklish from the way Jake laughs a little. He runs a hand down Jake’s side, his mouth moving down his chest but his eyes are on Jake’s neck and mouth, muscles taut and mouth open as he breathes harshly. He’s clearly given up waiting for Bradley to pay attention to his dick, has his own hand rubbing himself, occasionally detouring to rub Bradley’s dick as well. He moves his mouth over Jake’s pectorals, sucks gently at one nipple, wanting to know if this is something Jake –

“Fucking hell,” Jake exclaims, body jerking up as if electrified and Bradley pulls back immediately.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Do it again …”

Bradley grins and seals his mouth around his right nipple again and sucks, flicking his tongue over the harder nub of flesh in his mouth and Jake’s entire body arches again and Bradley can’t believe how good he looks. How good he feels.

“Fuck, why does that feel so good?”

“Lots of nerve endings…”

“It was a fucking rhetorical question…”

He snorts, lowers his mouth back and presses down with his lower body at the same time, wants to give something for Jake to grind against, push him toward climax. Jake is reading his body easily, his hips angling slightly to thrust against the juncture of his thigh and hip, hands both on Bradley’s lower back urging him closer, pulling him down and Bradley lets a little more of his weight press down. The moan Jake lets out is gratifying and he reaches a hand between them and presses harder, feels the dampness from where he’s leaking pre-come.

“Lube?”

“No, I like it a little, uh, rough… you go ahead though, if you want…”

“Nope, I’m all good…”

His lips are red and swollen and Bradley wants to make him look like this all the time. He runs a finger under the elastic of the underwear and then Jake’s hips are up and he shifts back and out of the way. Watches as Jake pushes them down and he can’t actually get them off with the way Bradley is half-kneeling over him, one thigh between Jake’s legs. He shuffles down the bed. Drags his hands down Jake’s legs, tugs the underwear off before moving back up, placing gentle kisses on knees, thighs and hips before he licks up the length of Jake’s cock, kisses the head and lets his moustache scrape against the skin gently. Jake is shifting, clearly wanting to move more but holding himself back and he’s got far too much control for Bradley’s liking.

He wraps his hand around Jake’s cock, a little firmer than he would usually, but Jake had said he likes it a little rough. He jerks it steadily, watches as Jake’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening in a silent gasp and he keeps going. It’s been a while, but he knows how to multitask and he wants to hear and see what will happen next. Knows getting Jake off is likely going to make him come as well. He settles his mouth over the same nipple he’d sucked before, and it’s a little pink, and he sucks again. The resulting words from Jake’s mouth are nonsensical in between loud gasps for air and what he recognizes as his name. He doesn’t say anything, can’t really, with his mouth busy sucking intently. His hand has sped up and he’s resting a fair bit of his weight on Jake’s leg, partly pinning Jake beneath him and his cock is hard and leaking. One of Jake’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding Bradley to his chest and then his whole body goes taut like a rubber band being stretched before it snaps back and then Jake is coming all over his hand and he gentles the sucking to more gentler licks and swirls of his tongue because it’s most likely going to be a little bruised.

“Ungh… fuck…”

He doesn’t bother moving very much, just shoves his own underwear down enough to take his cock in his hand and jerk himself off, hard and desperate to come, no need to try and make it last longer or hold back. He moves enough to kiss Jake and he feels a hand try to come and help him and while he appreciates the intent it isn’t something that is even a consideration right now, he’s too close and he doesn’t need much…

“Bradley…”

Yeah, that’ll do it. He comes with a groan, his come joining Jake’s on his stomach. He rests his forehead against Jake’s neck while he tries to steady his breathing. Their breathing is the only sound he can hear outside of his body, heartbeat pounding in his ears, waits a moment before he lets out a long shuddery breath and kisses Jake on the chin.

“You okay?”

“What’s that saying, ask a stupid question?”

“Get a stupid answer…”

“Yeah.”

He grabs some tissues, passes the box to Jake and they wipe themselves clean and he feels fantastic, hopes Jake feels similarly. He kisses him, takes the dirty tissues from his unresisting fingers and lies down beside him.

“Stupidly okay. You?”

“Yeah. That sounds about right. Damned good for a first run…”

“Mmm. Imagine what it will be like when we’ve got a few more test runs behind us.”

“Always room for improvement.”

“That’s very true… I’m just going to go and let the dogs out but I’ll be right back. If you wanted to stay that is?”

“Yeah, staying sounds good. Just… uh. Brisket normally sleeps on the bed with me.”

“Think she’s found a new bed.”

“Lucky for me I won’t be lonely I guess.”

Bradley grins.

… … …

2 MONTHS LATER

He’s running a little late, but not by a lot. He’s messaged both Jake and Mav to say he’s running a bit behind due to a surgery requiring a bit more time. He walks into the restaurant and spies them sitting at a booth near the back, tells the hostess he’s with them and raises his hand in greeting as Mav is standing to give him a hug.

“Bradley!”

“Hey Mav, good to see you,” Bradley says, returning the tight embrace.

“Good to see you too. You’re looking good. This is… Jake.”

Bradley leans down and gives Jake a kiss, takes his time and licks into his mouth.

“Hi.”

“I hope you don’t meet everyone that way…”

“Only my boyfriend Mav,” Bradley says, laughing. “You didn’t tell him?” he asks Jake.

“Nope, one of my joys in life is keeping him on his toes,” Jake says, grinning at them both as they sit. Mav is rolling his eyes and huffing, but Bradley can tell he’s a little pleased. At least he knows now why Bradley really didn’t care about him inviting someone else along to dinner.

“How long has this been going on?” Mav asks, looking between them with interest.

“Couple of months,” Bradley provides.

“You move fast,” Mav says to Jake dryly.

“What can I say? I know a good thing when I see one.”

“Plus Brisket loves me.”

“She does have exceptional taste.”

�� “Much like her owner. Although don’t you get the names mixed up? Brisket, Bradley and Brewster? There’s definitely a theme there…”

Jake blinks, looks at Bradley and he just shrugs.

“We could get a couple more pets and name them Brownie and Bruno and you’d have the whole set.”

Jake laughs, eye brow quirks;

“Sounds like a plan.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU where Bradley is not a Naval Aviator

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ratstuckinamarble · 1 year ago

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It's a lot less daunting than you'd think! I was super nervous the first time I posted a fanfic but everyone was super nice (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) And listen. If you come up with enough to want to do this. I would adore it. You could think it's the worst thing you've ever written (though I sure hope you wouldn't), and it would still bring me so much joy.

But, that's kinda irrelevant. What matters is that you have fun with it. That it's worthwhile to you. I'll just be there to cheer you on ( ・⁠▽⁠・)⁠⊃♡

Dracugoona but it's G1 💗 need more of these moments in G3 🤭

#I so get that feeling like you're exposing yourself part #I once wrote a short story as a gift to my mom cause she complained I never shared any of my stuff with her #and it felt like cutting out a piece of my heart and presenting it on a silver platter 😅#but that's art for ya #that's what makes it so special; that it makes a part of you visible; in some way #but that feels revealing; especially in writing I've noticed #and perfectionism is just the cherry on top :| (that's something I've been working on for years now).#I like to ask myself: If I was someone else; someone who's interests align with what I've made here #would I rather the piece be perfect; or not exist at all? and I'd always rather get to experience that human imperfection #regarding connective tissue... I usually just type & allow my brain to go with whatever it pleases so I don't have that coming up as much #but when it does. you can get away with some time skips. not everything has to be seen by the reader.#I once had a scene where I needed some characters to witness a conversation and start talking about that topic. but it always seemed off #so I just. didn't write it. I had my pov character zone out and only catch their friends talking about the witnessed topic #you gotta cheat a bit sometimes XD #as for the awkwardness. gosh I feel everything you said there. actually talking to people is hella tough. reaching out doesn't always go ho #you'd like. you get scared to do so again. but it's still worth it; talking to people. it's worth trudging through the bad to find the good #terrifying as that is. ya know; that's why I started being active on tumbr. as a sort of exposure therapy. it genuinely helped #just a year ago talking to people on here or publishing a post got my heart pounding like crazy. that doesn't come up nearly as much anymor #I could say a lot more but I'm running out of room. just. you're not alone.#you worry about putting all of the conversation in the tags; but look at what I'm doing 😅#but worrying about how you come across just gets tiring. the less I filter myself the more fun I have. you'll find people who appreciate #that.#I for one love reading your reblog tags #I'm sure I'd like whatever else you have in store too

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maniculum · 1 year ago

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Bestiaryposting Results: Choglaem

First, it seems that Tumblr's search function is flawed in such a way that just searching the tag doesn't actually get all of the results. So if you drew something for this round and it's not in this post, let me know and I'll put it in a reblog. Same applies to previous (and future) rounds.

Anyway, it's now time to look at the results for the Choglaem! Anyone who doesn't know what that means is encouraged to look at previous posts in this series, collected at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

And here's the link to the entry people are working from:

Now, let's get into it. As before, these are presented roughly in the order that people posted them. (I'm going to go through the tag on Tumblr's regular search, then again on the alternate search method someone suggested, so any that only show up on the alternate source are going to be at the end.)

@embervoices (link to post here) decided to show that the Choglaem is bigger than all living things on the earth by... having it fight Godzilla. Perfect. Inspired. Love it. No notes.

@mobileleprechaun (link to post) has helpfully labelled their drawing for us, which I enjoy. Also the interpretation that the tongue through the blowhole is a lure used by an underwater predator is a good one -- honestly, putting something this large in the water just feels more plausible, you know? In their tags, mobileleprechaun describes this as "sort of a dinosaur snake tsuchinoko", and I had to Google that last one, so let me show you the best result from that ...

(If anyone else needed that word defined, it's a creature from Japanese folklore that does actually look a lot like a fat snake, but I'm pretty sure it's not just a fat snake. There's a (disappointingly brief) Wikipedia article about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsuchinoko)

Anyway, the drawing is great! I have no idea why Saddam Hussein is there; you'll have to ask mobileleprechaun.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has given her Choglaem wings to aid in causing the air to become turbulent. The medieval stylization is pretty dead-on, I have to say; I swear I've seen those trees before. And I think this Choglaem may actually be the closest to the drawing in the Aberdeen Bestiary out of all the submissions we got, so coolest-capybara is clearly quite good at thinking like a medieval artist. The post linked above contains a brief explanation of her design choices and also a link to the medieval illustration that elephant is based on.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has once more done a very realistic-looking depiction of this week's beaſt. According to their post, part of their inspiration was an oarfish -- and I have to say this is pretty believable as a terrestrial version of an oarfish, so well done. I'm impressed by this one, which manages to look cool and dangerous but also kinda cute -- I think the tongue-through-the-blowhole part of the description makes all of them look a bit goofy in an endearing sort of way. The post linked above describes their design decisions, including a brief diversion over round pupils vs. slit pupils in snakes.

Silverhart also mentions that the nonsense-names I'm using sound like the names of mythical animals in a fantasy novel, so I feel I should confess what my process for randomly generating these names was. I've got a Goblin conlang that's been sitting in my pile of works-in-progress for years; I just fed the phonology from that into Zompist's gen program (link here), then picked out several dozen of my favorite results. So that's why they sound like kinda-plausible words.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has drawn us a Choglaem who is having problems. Or, I don't know, maybe it meant to knot itself up like that; who am I to judge? Either way I think it's cute. Just look at that face. A brief overview of her design decisions is included in the linked post; I think the chicken crest is a pretty sensible call given the source material.

@pomrania (link to post here) has made some creative choices with their version. I like how they've decided that if the Choglaem kills with its tail, the tail should have something at the end rather than just... you know. A tail. That tracks. "The tail ends in a fist", specifically, however, was not something I saw coming. The crest looking like an emo hairstyle is funny, I think, and the angry elephant is great. The expression on the Choglaem's face is suspect to me; it looks like it's having too much fun with this. The linked post above includes an early draft, and itself links to a post with a detailed account of the artist's thought process and some additional sketches.

@miapcain (link to post here) has... wait, hold on, look at that border. That's gorgeous. Had to acknowledge that before moving to the inside of the frame. Anyway, Mia has given her Choglaem legs, which might seem odd for something described as a "snake", but actually isn't out of the ordinary for a medieval bestiary -- the authors tended to play a bit more fast and loose with their categorization of animals than we do today, and there are indeed examples of animals with legs being called "serpents" or "snakes". (I assume the artist knows this, I just want to share that with the rest of the audience.) Anyway, the drawing style is great; I like the stylized landscape and the muted colors. That elephant is definitely modeled after a medieval elephant -- I swear I've seen it before -- but I couldn't tell you which one offhand. Anyway. Love the vibes here. Not sure why the tongue is a vine, but it's a cool design feature.

@rautavaara (link to post here) has gone an entirely different direction with this one, and I can kind of see the steps. Snakelike creature, kills with its tail... what if the tail it kills with is a snake. As a result, we have this chimeric "bovid-lion-snake beast", as the artist describes. It definitely stands out from the crowd, and looks menacing as hell. Rautavaara continues with the cool frames and stylization, and I continue to appreciate them. Kind of an art-deco feel on this one.

@karthara (link to post here) gives us a big snake with a somewhat aquatic-looking fin-crest, grappling with an elephant in a very believable manner. That is a quality depiction of a snake fighting an elephant, no mistake. And like I said before, a kind of aquatic look feels right for something this big. The linked post contains a short description of the design decisions.

@gradling (link to post here) apparently also had the thought of "if it kills with its tail there should be something dangerous on the tail", and made the excellent decision to give the Choglaem a thagomizer. That's amazing and I love it. The crest also looks quite good. I don't have anything else to add here. Thagomizer. Brilliant.

@moustawott (link to post here) has done this very cool, kind of celestial-looking Choglaem. I like that its pose is evoking an infinity symbol. And, of course, it is in its natural habitat:

the skies

A brief explanation of design choices can be found in the post linked above.

@treesurface (link to post here) has managed to really evoke the size of this thing even though it's the only thing on the page, which I think is quite good. Also, the brief discussion of their design choices in the post linked is pretty interesting, and honestly that's what I want to highlight for this piece, so go check that out.

@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) has given us an elephant apparently in the moment when it realizes it's about to be attacked by a Choglaem. In order to allow their Choglaem to lurk despite its size, they've given it camo-pattern scales, which I think is clever. There's a pretty good explanation of their design choices in the linked post, which I think is worth reading.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently did this with a fountain pen, which I think is very cool. I like the oarfish-inspired crest, and the very menacing face, and the elephant being ambushed. However -- and I realize I've said this like three times in a row now -- you should check out the linked post to read the artist's explanation of their design decisions. They describe it pretty thoroughly and I think it's more worthwhile to read their account of what they've drawn than it is to read mine.

@strixcattus (link to post here) posted this while I was typing this round-up, so this will be the last result from Normal Tumblr Search. They've given us another "there should be something dangerous on the end of its tail" interpretation and drawn their Choglaem with an ankylosaur-style club, which I think is excellent. As per usual, their post includes an amazingly detailed modern-naturalist-style description of the animal in question, which I always enjoy. It's exactly my jam. (That bit about where the largest Choglaem lives... is that a reference to something? It feels familiar.)

All right, I'm now looking through "#choglaem" on @findtags's search system, and it is a bit different, oddly. There are fewer results than in the regular Tumblr search -- only six of the above images show up -- but it also has one that doesn't show up on the normal search! Dammit tumblr.

@hairycarrot ... whom Tumblr will not let me tag? what the hell? [edit: the tag works now that i’ve posted this, but the editor seemed to think this blog wasn’t real] um... (link to post here). Anyway, they've done this neat stylized thing that kind of looks like pastels? I don't know art, that's just what it looks like to me and I like it. I also enjoy the Choglaem being coiled up like a spring -- I know it's because it's a constrictor and showing it in coils is a good way to communicate that, but I still like the look. Very pleasant-looking depiction of an elephant being ambushed by a giant snake.

All right, time for the reveal. Here's the Aberdeen Bestiary drawing:

Yep. That snake has legs and wings. So everyone who added limbs was in an appropriately medieval mindset. It doesn't seem to have a crest, though, and I don't see any blowholes. And it's attacking with its bite more than with its tail. Honestly, I think y'all read the entry much more closely than this artist did.

But maybe they were also working with more preconceptions.

Because you see.

This is the entry for the Dragon.

Yeah, that's not what I was expecting from a bestiary description of a dragon either.

The interesting thing about it to me is that it's absolutely not what you generally see in fictional depictions of dragons in medieval literature. The bestiary entry is very firm on the idea that it's not venomous, it's a constrictor, it kills with its tail -- and most medieval dragons I've read about are highly venomous. Some of them aren't even that large; they're dangerous for their venom rather than their size. So maybe this is a bit of medieval mythbusting -- "no, guys, real dragons actually don't have venom at all".

And yes, this means there's historical precedent for the green & black dragons in D&D; dragons being so venomous they spit, breathe, or blow out poison instead of having to inject it with a bite is a pretty common motif in medieval dragon stories. I think a lot of people think of those as just variants on the classic fire-breathing version depicted by the red dragon, but actually there aren't that many fire-breathing dragons in medieval stories as far as I remember. (I would do some research on this, but I wanted to have this posted like two hours ago, so you're just getting what I remember off the top of my head instead of proper sources, sorry.) To my understanding, the classic fantasy dragon breathes fire because Smaug breathed fire. And Smaug breathed fire because the dragon in Beowulf breathed fire. But the Beowulf dragon isn't actually representative in that regard; the venom-spitting dragon is more common as far as I've seen. (No word on lightning or cold, sorry blue and white dragons.)

Anyway, there's probably room to reintroduce the constrictor dragon that kills with its tail. What colors haven't already been used up in the various monster manuals, splatbooks, &c.?

I'm rambling. End of post.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #choglaem

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lifeafterartsch00l · 3 months ago

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✨ Sns rec’s ✨

I read a fabulous post from @longlivefeedback about supporting authors so I thought I’d try and give it a go since I’m constantly looking through the Naruto/Sasuke tag 🙊 I’m going to try and make a new habit and post once a week with my sasunaru/narusasu/sns (and maybe other pairings/fandoms) recs!

Some awesome fics I’ve been enjoying on a03 lately include:

Finger on the detonator by foreverbaby

Twelve Steps by foreverbaby

An anchor in the storm by cecific

don’t act like it’s a bad thing (to fall in love with me) by heartsugu

What counts for anything by kayeeyooblue

Solis occasum by wouldyoukiindly

Konohamaru wanted to rest by anaria_k

Thank you talented authors 😊 I don’t think I’m following any of these authors on tumblr 🤔 but I’ll look for them! 🤗 please tag them in the comments if you know who they are!

Read below for details on fic recommendations ⬇️

Finger on the detonator by foreverbaby

Im so happy i finally found this author! I started with Finger on the detonator but Twelve Steps really spoke to me and my own feelings/experiences with a difficult childhood. And making art! I love how sexy and meta and healing and radical they are. I’m excited to read more from this author ❤️ Multiple chapters.

“Chapters: 2/?

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Shimura Danzou, Hyuuga Neji, Sai (Naruto), Juugo (Naruto)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Activism, High School, Military Backstory, Politics, Teenage Rebellion, Partners in Crime, Gay Uchiha Sasuke, Crack Treated Seriously, Anarchy, Making Out, lazy US-specific setting...sorry, Wet Dream, Breaking and Entering, Minor Injuries, Closet Sex, Frottage

Summary:

uzumakiswag: this might b kinda weird but like i just got back from my deployment and stuff and i saw u on the kwp direct action discord when i joined that? and i was gonna go to a meetup but idk anybody else there yet sooo do u go to those? wld u want to go together next week? hahaha

taka99: That's a joke right

uzumakiswag: no y is that funnyp

taka99: You’re literally in the US military

It's totally normal to engage in a little gay domestic terrorism just to impress your crush...right?”

Twelve Steps by foreverbaby

“Chapters: 3/3

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, minor past naruto/sakura and sasuke/suigetsu

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hoozuki Suigetsu, Haruno Sakura

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV Alternating, Alcoholics Anonymous, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Addiction, Homophobia, Light Angst, sasuke vapes, criterion channel and chill, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Friends to Lovers, naruto's bi awakening, sasuke's issues

Summary: One day at a time, they always said. But for Sasuke every single day was exactly the same: serving the same gruff truckers the same greasy pancakes and eggs, heading to the same gym to do the same workout, going home to stare at the same half-formed Final Draft document, then waking up the next morning to do the same thing all over again. Was that really one day at a time, or was it more like one single hellish stretched-out day that dragged on endlessly and forever? And what exactly was the point of staying clean when that was your reward?

Everybody told Naruto after Sakura called off their engagement that what he needed was a “fresh start.” Naruto’s fresh start had so far consisted of a new city where he knew nobody, a park ranger job that paid him sub-minimum-wage, an empty studio apartment in a part of town not yet gentrified enough to be out of that price range, a lot of lonely Skyping with his friends, and, now, apparently, an A.A. meeting at a Quality Inn.

When Naruto moves away from his hometown after a breakup, he's surprised to see someone he recognizes at his first A.A. meeting in a new city: his childhood best friend, Sasuke Uchiha”

An anchor in the storm by cecific

One shot, contemporary au, poem. POV from Sasuke. I haven’t read any poems before for sns! Lovely, great ending 🥹💗 the author says their English is bad but I truly think no apology is needed because i think their English is great and hell I only speak English and can’t write poetry!

“Chapters: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Idiots in Love, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Falling In Love, slow burn but it never actually lights on fire, Sasuke's mother is dead, Sick Character, Soulmates

Summary: Sasuke's on a blind date set up by his father, his date is late so a young bright man keeps him company.. It feels like a fated encounter between the two.

Essentially a poem that tells a story. Also sorry, English is my first language and yet I'm horrid!”

don’t act like it’s a bad thing (to fall in love with me) by heartsugu

One shot. Sweet n spicy, my fave combination! 🍭🔥 I really loved how Naruto was written here & that it’s Sakura positive 😊 I really hope this author writes more sns 🤞😍🤞

“Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Ensemble (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Hatake Kakashi

Additional Tags: POV Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke Returns to Konoha, Blank Period (Naruto), Haruno Sakura is So Done, Background Relationships, Mild Hurt/Comfort, mostly fluff tbh, Bad Humor, Emotional Constipation, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Shenanigans (Naruto), Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke are Best Friends, Domestic, Making Out, Love Bites, Resolved Sexual Tension, No beta we die like Neji, Everyone Is Gay, Self-Indulgent, Minor Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino

Summary: He hadn’t meant for it to get this bad, but being back in Konoha had shown him how dull his world was without Naruto.

Being dragged around on dumb errands, or training together, or even just sitting around and watching the sunset had given Sasuke peace of mind he hadn’t ever known. He felt like himself again, and Naruto was the cause.

Naruto was his home.

5,000 words of sns word vomit because this is what makes me happy these days idk”

What counts for anything by kayeeyooblue

I love how in this fic Sasuke gets to try normalcy and be an awkward teen! 😭 ❤️ great dynamic between Sasuke & Naruto (I really enjoyed reading about their developing relationship) & also spicy 🔥

“Chapters: 12/?

Rating: Not Rated

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi, Tsunade (Naruto), Haruno Sakura, Nara Shikamaru, Uchiha Itachi

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Coming of Age, Soft Uchiha Sasuke, Sexual exploration, First Kiss, First Time

Summary: months after the 4th war, sasuke and naruto meet again. except now they have time”

Solis occasum by wouldyoukiindly

Reading this was like a fresh breath of air! I loved how the characterisation felt very true. I hope they do more chapters! 💗🙏🏽Canon divergent Boruto-era.

“Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, Hyuuga Hinata

Additional Tags: Old men naruto and sasuke find out they're gay in their 30s, Hokage Uzumaki Naruto, Co-Parenting, Divorce, more tags when i write more!, Hinata is Naruto's best friend, Sakura is Sasuke's best friend, Domestic Fluff, Naruto has ADHD, sasuke has autism

Summary: After becoming Hokage, Naruto notices that despite it all, he's had no time to hang out with his best friend. He never realized how much he missed Sasuke's attitude, demeanour, and all around being; he hasn't felt this way about anyone before.

It's always been Sasuke, hasn't it?

And maybe that realization will be the very end of him.

(Naruto and sasuke realize they're gay in their 30s and divorce their wives, who in turn, realize they are also gay and everyone is friends and co-parents. yessir.)”

Konohamaru wanted to rest by anaria_k

Cheeky, sexy, & Konohamaru POV! One shot. I love looking at sasunaru fanart and I love it when clever authors make fanfic inspired by it (author links the art which helped inspire the fic). 😋🫶🏽 one shot

“Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Sarutobi Konohamaru, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke

Additional Tags: Comedy, Post-Canon, Post-War, Blank Period (Naruto), Post-Fourth Shinobi War (Naruto), Drabble, Pre-Slash, Semi-Public Sex, Third Wheels, Konohamaru sees something he wasn't intending to see, Hot, Dirty Thoughts, Pre-Relationship, Canon Compliant, Not a Date, Idiots in Love, Boys In Love, everyone can see it, Konohamaru does for sure, Sexual Tension, also Konohamaru might be accidentaly bi

Summary: Konohamaru returns from a mission to the village and, finding himself in a bar, accidentally witnesses a very non-accidental scene. He doesn't like it. Although?…”

🍥+🍅=❤️

#naruto #sns #sasunaru #narusasu #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #a03 author #read on a03 #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #naruto fanfic #my fic recs #lifeafterartsch00l fic recs

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cecilysass · 8 months ago

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Shine On (4/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 4: The Art of Profiling

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 20, 2015

The pizza that Fox Mulder ordered isn’t from a pizza place Jackson has ever heard of, like Domino’s or Pizza Hut, but it’s really good anyway. Or at least it tastes good to someone who hasn’t eaten all day. Jackson eats the first piece really quickly, then he grabs for a second without thinking, forgetting his manners. When he realizes what he’s done, he hesitates.

“Go for it,” the older man says, his eyes darting sharply back and forth between the pizza and Jackson’s face. “Eat as much as you want.”

Fox Mulder has been acting much more intense ever since Jackson told him about the red-headed lady.

Jackson’s tired, and he has only barely skimmed the surface of the man’s difficult mind, but he can tell that the guy’s stunned by the news. Fox Mulder’s mind is channeling down a dozen different paths right now: fast, mazelike thoughts, like bobsleds going down tracks. A current of sharp worry running through like a winter chill.

It’s honestly exhausting to try to figure out. Jackson closes off the shine for now, takes another big bite of pizza. This sausage is a little spicy, which is exactly how he likes it.

“I have a lot of questions for you,” Fox Mulder says, his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. But I … gotta ask some of them.”

Jackson nods reluctantly, his mouth full. He doesn’t feel like answering questions at all. Still, he supposes the more he gets out of the way, the better.

“You said you have visions,” the man says, setting his own piece of pizza down. “Do you have other … abilities?”

Jackson studies him cautiously as he finishes chewing his bite of pizza. He’s not in the habit of discussing what he can do. It’s only really ever been trouble when he has, so he’s almost instinctively secretive about it. But things are different now. And Fox Mulder, well, he seems to know all about this kind of thing.

“Yeah,” Jackson says carefully. “I do.”

The man runs his hand over his mouth. Jackson notices he’s only eaten half of his slice of pizza. Either he’s not hungry, or he’s too distracted.

“You can read thoughts,” Fox Mulder guesses, leaning back, speaking with certainty. He folds his hands in front of him. “You can focus on other people’s thoughts. Not just one person, but several at once.”

Jackson sets his slice of pizza down in shock. “How did you know that?”

“You can move objects, too.”

Jackson blinks at him. “I have been able to do that. Some. I could do it easier when I was little.”

“What else?”

“I can, like, change people’s perceptions. What they see. Not for forever, just for a little while. So, if I, like, need a distraction in class or something, I can make the teacher think someone opened the door and mooned us. Stupid stuff like that.”

Fox Mulder looks undeniably fascinated. “Wow,” he says. “Interesting.” He taps his fingers on the table. Jackson doesn’t have to use his shine to see that the man is thinking this over. “So does that mean you could effectively shapeshift? If you wanted to?”

“Yeah,” admits Jackson. “At least I can make other people think I look like someone else.”

“Huh,” the man says, squinting thoughtfully. He tilts his head, looking at Jackson again. “Are you reading my mind right now?”

“No,” Jackson says honestly.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired,” Jackson says. “It’s work, sometimes. And no offense, but you’re kind of complicated and hard.”

Fox Mulder chuckles. “I don’t know if I should take offense at that or not.”

“I did read your mind earlier,” Jackson confesses. “And the red-haired lady …. she was really easy. I hardly had to try with her at all. It was like her thoughts just flew at me. I was wondering if that was because she was my birth mom. Do you think that could be right?”

The man stares at him blankly, not directly answering. “Her name is Dana Scully.”

“Dana Scully,” repeats Jackson.

“Have you ever heard that name before?”

“No,” Jackson says. “I don’t think so.”

“Did your parents tell you anything about your birth parents? Who they were, where you were from?”

“I don’t think they knew anything about them,” Jackson says. “It was a closed adoption.”

Fox Mulder nods, scratching his chin. “Yeah,” he says. It’s like a cloud of sadness has fallen over him. “Yeah, it would have been.” He fixes Jackson with a curious look. “Do you … have any questions for me? About any of this?”

“Uh. Sure.” Jackson looks around the room, slowly, as if the best question to ask might be scrawled on the walls. The faces peering out of the framed photos draw his attention again, but it’s all so much. He looks away, back at the box of pizza in front of them instead. “Is it… okay if I have another slice, Mr. Mulder?”

The man laughs a little, crossing his arms. “You can just call me Mulder.”

“I think I’m eating more than you, Mulder,” Jackson points out seriously. “It doesn’t seem fair. It’s your pizza.”

“I told you, eat as much as you want.”

Jackson feels like he has been polite enough. He shrugs. “Thanks,” Jackson says, taking another slice.

“Jackson,” Mulder says, watching him eat, his voice suddenly too casual. “Do you have any idea who your birth father is?”

Jackson picks up his piece of pizza and studies it, pulling off a particularly delicious-looking piece of sausage and sampling it. “Well,” he says, through a mouthful, “I’ve got a guess. Based on certain clues. But I don’t know for sure.”

“Clues you’ve read in people’s minds? Or clues you’ve noticed?”

Jackson shrugs again. “Both, I guess.” He gives Mulder a look, raising his eyebrows.

There’s a pause.

“What clues?”

“Well, I’m not stupid,” Jackson says matter-of-factly. “That woman, Dana Scully, was here, fighting with you. Lots of big feelings. Then, the way you’re acting now. Like you think I’m a brand new iPhone and you can’t stop looking at me. And how you seem to know things about me. That’s a bunch of clues.”

Mulder has been sitting with his arms crossed, and he hasn’t moved the entire time Jackson’s been talking. But now Jackson can see a tear sprouting in his eye. It surprises him. Wayne Van De Kamp, his father, would never have cried in front of him. Mulder blots it with his sleeve, and Jackson sees his hands are shaking, too.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that so carelessly, kind of flippantly. It’s obviously a big deal to Mulder. Really, truthfully, it’s a big deal to Jackson, too—something he’s wondered about his whole life. But right now he just can’t have everything feel like a big deal all at once. Or he’ll explode or something.

He meets the man’s damp eyes.

“Yeah,” Mulder says roughly, trying to smile. “Okay. A lot of clues.” He pauses, uncrosses his arms, places his hands on the table. “I get the sense you can’t handle a lot more emotional drama right now, Jackson, and I get that, I really do. Believe it or not, I’ve been in that place myself.”

Jackson’s speechless. It’s like the man read his mind, but that’s not possible.

“I just want to say, we can talk about it whenever you want to,” Mulder adds. “No pressure.”

Jackson nods his head up and down, licking his lips nervously.

***

After dinner, they go back into the part of the room with the couch, which is surrounded by all the messy piles of books. Jackson sits on the floor and starts picking up volumes curiously. “The Art of Profiling?” he says. “Is that an art book?”

“No,” Mulder says with a smile, trying to kick piles out of the way. “It’s psychological profiling. Like for criminals.”

“Oh,” Jackson says, making a connection. “Like on Criminal Minds.”

“What’s that? A TV show?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “My parents love it. It’s about a team of FBI agents who profile dangerous criminals.” An exciting thought occurs to him. “Wait, is that what you did?”

“Yes,” Mulder says. “No. Kind of. I was a profiler, years and years ago. But then I was put on the X-files, where I investigated cases that had unexplainable, supernatural associations.”

“That’s why you have books like this,” Jackson says. He lifts the book Sasquatch: Diverse Perspectives. “Or this?” Extraterrestrial Abductions Beyond the Media.

“Yeah,” Mulder says, a self-deprecating shrug. “That’s right.”

“That’s badass,” Jackson says, a root of an idea occurring to him. He belatedly realizes his mistake. “I mean, that’s cool. Very cool,” he corrects himself.

“It was badass,” Mulder agrees, seemingly unaffected by Jackson’s profanity. “Although… it could be difficult. We went through a lot, working on the X-files. Scully and me.”

Jackson absorbs this information. “So you and Dana Scully worked together on the X-files. In the F.B.I.. That’s how you knew one another?”

“We were partners,” Mulder says with quiet precision, like this sentence is very important.

They’re just three words—we were partners—but Jackson can tell they tell an entire complicated story the length of a book or more. His shine cries out to be used, but Jackson pushes it aside.

“Mulder,” Jackson says slowly. “Is it a coincidence that you and my birth mom worked on these X-files … and that I have these abilities?”

“No, Jackson,” Mulder says, sighing heavily. “It’s probably not a coincidence.” He sits on the couch, looking down at Jackson still sitting on the floor. “There are things that both of us were exposed to that could have … caused the abilities.”

“But you guys don’t have them yourselves, right?”

“No. Not like you.”

It’s a frustrating answer. “Not like me? Or not at all?”

“Some things I want to wait to talk to you about,” Mulder replies. “Until we’ve had a chance to talk to your mother, too.”

Your mother.

Jackson inhales sharply, the words sending an unexpected shock through him.

“I meant Scully, of course,” Mulder says quickly, noticing his reaction. “I’m sorry.”

“Dana Scully isn’t my mother,” Jackson says with emphasis. “I have a mother.”

“I know.” Mulder’s eyes look impossibly sad. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I know.”

“I’m not looking to replace my parents,” Jackson says tightly. “That’s not why I’m here or what this is about. They’ll always be my parents. I love them.”

Mulder appears to sink further into the couch. “Yeah,” he says. “I can tell you do.”

Jackson looks down quickly at the stack of books again, playing silently with the cover of Criminology Through The Ages. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten angry. He knows Mulder didn’t mean anything by it, and he’s having to struggle with his shine now to keep from sensing any bad feelings or thoughts coming off of Mulder.

It’s just Jackson feels almost disloyal, sitting here talking to this man, learning this information about his birth parents’ lives, when his parents just died. When they probably died because of him.

“Jackson.” Mulder’s voice is kind. “What were they like? Your parents. Do you want to … tell me about them? I don’t know anything about them.”

Jackson pauses, still staring at the book in his hand. “Yeah,” he says. He tries to find the right words. He has to be the person who remembers them, who speaks for them to the world now. “They were … they weren’t anything like me. But they were great.”

Mulder waits patiently, his soft eyes on Jackson. Jackson puts the book back carefully on top of a pile.

“My dad was the shop teacher at Rawlins High School. He was good at woodworking, cabinetry. He was always trying to teach me.”

“Were you good at it, too?”

“No,” Jackson says with a tiny smile. “I was really, really bad at it.”

“Oh yeah?” Mulder echoes the tiny smile.

“I couldn’t cut straight. I forgot to measure,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “I was always disappointing him.”

“Not really,” Mulder guesses softly.

“No,” Jackson agrees, just as softly. “Not really.” He’s quiet, thinking more about his goofy, sweater-vested dad. “He was always cheerful. He thought you should look on the positive side of things, you know? Really into baseball. He coached my Little League team for a while.”

“That’s good,” Mulder says encouragingly. “It’s good to play sports.” He’s quiet, too. “And your mom?”

“Her job was running the church preschool,” Jackson says. “She was always singing. She loved holiday decorations, and to cook and bake.” He feels tears threatening. “She is just … she was a really good mom to me. Like, she hugged me all the time. I acted like I didn’t like it, but I did.”

“I’m glad she did that,” Mulder whispers. “I’m so glad.”

“She was really Christian. Really into church. They both were.”

“You were raised religious?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “Lutheran.” He glances at Mulder wryly. “But I was really bad at that, too.”

Mulder returns the look. “I’m not very good at that myself,” he says. “Scully’s religious, in her own way. But I’ve never been … that kind of believer. It’s just never made sense to me”

Something warm blooms in Jackson at being understood in this way. It’s never made sense to him, either.

“What are you good at?” Mulder asks. His tone is gentle, but Jackson’s shine is suddenly alert, suddenly aware of what’s underneath the man’s exterior. Mulder is hungry to know more about him, desperate for any detail. His need is so overwhelming, Jackson closes the door on it quickly.

“I don’t know,” Jackson says casually. “I’m good at math, I guess. Math comes easy to me.”

Mulder’s face lights up. “Scully’s amazing at math.” Looking over at Jackson, he seems to regret his words. His scolding to himself shines through. —stop making everything he says about me and Scully. “Sorry. You’re telling me about yourself.”

“I like to run,” Jackson continues. “I’m pretty fast, and I think I’m a good distance runner. I was thinking maybe I’d try out for the track team in high school.” He pauses. “But I guess I’m not going to high school now.”

“Come on,” Mulder says. “Of course you’re going to high school. Your life isn’t over.”

“I’m most likely going to prison,” Jackson mumbles darkly.

“Nah. Not going to happen.”

“I don’t even know where I’m going to live,” Jackson adds. “Where I’m going to stay tonight.”

“You’re obviously going to stay here tonight,” Mulder insists. “After that, we’ll figure it out.”

The lightning-fast image of a school building with a sign— Farrs Corner High School—and then another fast image, the two of them, Mulder and Jackson, running side by side on a country road, a road that looks a lot like the road right outside the farmhouse. Then almost instantly, more scolding in Mulder’s mind: Way ahead of yourself. Stop it. Haven’t even told Scully. Need to confirm.

“How will we confirm?” Jackson asks quickly. “What does that mean?”

Mulder’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Sorry,” Jackson says. “That was kind of rude of me, probably.”

“I have to remind myself you’re listening,” Mulder says with a small smile.

“I normally try to hide it more,” Jackson says. He stands up, stepping around the books to sit next to Mulder on the couch. “But I mean … what’s the point if you already know, right?”

“I was just thinking that before we introduce you to Scully, we should run DNA,” Mulder says. “Yours against mine. To confirm it.”

“Why?” Jackson says, frowning. “You don’t believe me?”

“Can’t you tell that I believe you?”

Jackson sighs. “Yeah, I think you do.” He kicks out his long legs and leans his head back against the back of the couch. “But like I said, you’re not the easiest.”

“The people that Scully and I used to be involved with,” Mulder says, “were the kind of people who would go to extremes. Even extremes like convincing a kid his birth mother was someone she wasn’t. Like planting ideas into people’s heads. I don’t think you’re lying, but I think it would be smart to know for sure.”

Jackson swings his head to look at Mulder. “Who were these people?”

Mulder regards him with a troubled expression. “I’ll answer that, Jackson. But I think you need to answer this, too: who drove you here? To Virginia?”

“I told you,” Jackson says, folding his arms defensively, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?” Mulder’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “It worries me a little. Did the person who drove you ask you not to tell me?”

“Yeah, they did,” Jackson admits. “But I don’t think they’re one of these bad people you’re talking about. They were just trying to help me.”

“But Jackson,” Mulder says urgently, “you need to understand that—”

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Jackson insists, and his voice sounds younger than he intends. “Please. Just trust me.”

Mulder rubs his temple with one finger. “Okay,” he says simply. “I can do trust.” He leans forward on his forearms. “But still, Jackson, I think we gotta do the DNA test. If you’re not … the person we think you are—and who Scully thinks you are, it would be too hard for her.”

“She’s been wanting to see me that bad?”

Mulder is surprised. “Of course she has. Of course.”

“But it was a closed adoption. Her choice.”

Mulder opens and closes his mouth, again seeming not to know what to say. “Since the second she let you go,” he says, his voice strained, “she’s been wanting to see you again.”

Jackson’s shine pulls in an image then of a baby in a crib, crying, and then the woman Mulder calls Scully, younger, crying and crying, inconsolable.

It’s all too sad, and Jackson is sad already.

“Okay. DNA test tomorrow then,” Jackson says, shrugging. “No big deal.”

“Great,” Mulder says, standing up. “Now I thought I’d show you where you’ll be sleeping if you want. I’ll have to put sheets on the guest bed first. Maybe you can help me. This place used to be a little more organized when Scully lived here.”

“You have a guest room, huh?” Jackson says. “Fancy.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says in a strange voice. “It’s just an extra bedroom. Small. Not too fancy.”

It was supposed to be your room. In case we got you back somehow. Mulder’s thoughts are suddenly and unexpectedly clear.

“Then I guess I better sleep in it,” Jackson responds flatly, following along behind him.

***

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp #my fic #shine on

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 2 years ago

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girl yeeeesssss spill the fucking tea 😫 don't go hiding that drama in the tags

Okay, so originally I wasn’t going to say anything because I did not have the energy or desire to rehash all of this to a community that I hardly interact with besides post-dumping every ~4 months. But then, ironically, two people DM’d me about this this week and now I’m feeling spiteful again, so let me regale you with the cringe tales of the Tumblr g/t community and why it gives me a headache to think about. And you know what? This bitch is being a pinned post, too, because I’m not going to let it be swept under the rug anymore. I’m rocking the boat, I’m naming names, I’ll be a little goblin starting dumpster fires.

Now, I will say there are definitely further issues in the community that I can’t personally speak on – rampant racism, transphobia, etc. That’s not to say these things aren’t happening or aren’t important to bring attention to, but I am not someone who witnessed it firsthand or experienced it. In my handful of years being active in this community, they are topics that have been brought up a fair few times, which is enough of a sign that it’s an ongoing issue. However, I also have not looked at any g/t related tags in almost a year, so whether or not these discussions are still happening or have been relatively resolved, I don’t know. It’s not my place to talk about them in depth when I would have no idea what I’m talking about or what to reference, in which case I implore others who have unfortunately dealt with this to please speak out about it. There’s other drama I am able to talk about because I went through it myself or by proxy, and so that’s only what I’m going to be relaying in this post.

I feel like the most infamous implosion was the GTMS/Chamomile-g-tea debacle from half a year or so back, but at the same time based on the messages and DM’s I’ve received, it seems like…a lot of people have forgotten about that, or at least weren’t around/invested enough to know what happened. The quick recap is that @unicornofgt created a written series about giant mech suits that were actually powered by giant humans in a post-apocalyptic setting, inspired by a post made by our shared friend bolshoycorvid about Pacific Rim. It grew into a fairly well known series in the community, and while I had only read the first chapter, I still at least recognized it from my mutuals and some of the tags.

And then Cham found it and became utterly obsessed with it, pumping out fanart left and right and opening the floodgates for its popularity. And that’s so cool! That’s great that such a talented artist with a large following genuinely enjoys someone else’s work that much, and is introducing it further to the fanbase for people to read! It’s amazing to get that kind of feedback to know people want to make art of your handcrafted characters because they adore them that much, it’s one of the best compliments a writer can get!

Except Cham really started getting into it. Like, helping-create-two-Discord-servers-without-permission, kind of into it. Like, posting-fanart-on-multiple-platforms-without-source-credit, kind of into it. Like, repeatedly-responding-to-messages-about-the-characters-without-consulting, kind of into it. And when I tell you her art for the main characters were everywhere, I mean they were everywhere, not just in the Tumblr g/t community. Tiktok, Twitter, Instagram, they were posted, and they were never credited back to unicornofgt. I had friends send me her animatics of it, gushing about how amazing it was, totally unaware that it was a storyboard to the first chapter of GTMS (which I recognized and told them, at least).

And was unicornofgt mentioned in any of these posts, was their fic linked, was it even noted that these weren’t her original creations she was spamming to every platform? Nope. Not a word. They actually had to repeatedly ask Cham to credit them as she continued to drop the ball, and even so it was too little too late, finally coming in the few weeks before unicornofgt put a stop to it altogether. Some platforms would only allow an additional note to be added via comment, which was often missed or drowned out by the sea of other messages. Other places like Tumblr could allow a full body edit, however that did nothing for the hundreds of reblogs that were already circulating without a link back to unicornofgt, and are still out there, even if unicornofgt had Cham delete her GTMS posts.

And naturally, if you’re not in the already niche Tumblr community, and even if you’re new to said community, you would have no idea! You would see her post these characters, answer questions about details for these characters, maybe even be invited by Cham to one or both of the two Discord servers for these characters (of which unicornofgt was a member of, but more often than not still not addressed for their story as Cham would take over and talk about GTMS when they were not online to agree/disagree) – Of course you’d naturally assume these are her characters and her story, and even if you knew different, you might become one of the many people swept up in the fandom environment created by Cham, which treated her as the forefront of it.

And please, don’t think I’m taking this out of context. Understand that unicornofgt DM’d me about all of this before they eventually abandoned their Tumblr a while ago due to this situation and the rampant bigotry in the community , and you can read their farewell post here. They told me about the growing anxiety and morphing disdain they felt when it came to their series, because it felt like that creative freedom had been robbed, pressured to morph their original vision to appease Cham, even at the expense of their own passion for GTMS. They felt unheard, ignored, and pushed aside while Cham got to reap the benefits of their own hard work to bring it into existence in the first place. No matter how much they spoke about it in private with Cham or openly on the two Discord servers (they had never wanted in the first place), it didn’t matter.

They told me about the instances in which they had multiple talks with Cham about this crossing boundaries, but ultimately not feeling they could enforce them because as a meager content creator, they should feel grateful that someone so popular was giving their work as much attention as it was getting. Friends and followers agreed with that sentiment because more and more people were becoming unaware who the true creator was, and it seemed on the surface unicornofgt consented. They told me about how Cham had to be repeatedly told to stop and redirect any questions relating to GTMS to unicornofgt, instead of taking it upon herself to answer them, as a majority of the time whatever she said was at best a bad rehashing of unicornofgt’s own explainations that watered down unicornofgt’s characters to “silly stupid little incompenant man” and “big badass woman who loves him sooo much”, and completely ignored bolshoycorvid’s characters altogether. Sure, to Cham’s benefit, she would back down…for a little while, and then start those habits all over again and ignore what was previously requested, especially during the mini internet breaks unicornofgt would have to take since the pressure gave them further fatigue, contributing to their pre-existing chronic health problems.

Let’s not forget the free for all fandom that was created as well. Anyone with questions/comments/concerns all went straight to Cham and rarely to unicornofgt. Art requests, ideas or what-ifs, AUs – all to Cham. Her friends and mutuals straight up telling bolshoycorvid that they’ve never read their GTMS fics despite them being a fair chunk of the overarching universe, simply because they were hardly acknowledged in Cham’s art and frequent posting. The influx of underaged users coming in to join the fun and the Discord servers, which unicornofgt had already said they were uncomfortable with and had wanted the main server to at least be 18+ (a request that was, once again, ignored by Cham, who irresposibily never checked the ages of new users to the point any and all of her mod privileges were revoked and all invites were turned off). So many problems came from having those kids in an 18+ space, essentially taken over by Cham, that unicornofgt decided to pull the plug on the entire server and cut finally Cham off a week later.

From my understanding, this fandom behavior was even worse on Twitter to the point the GTMS characters were selected to be used in a roleplay tournament. The host reached out to Cham for her opinion of character authenticity during the rounds, while others were asking if they could use her art/comics for voice acting. Meanwhile Cham sent all of these to unicornogft because she thought it was funny, but didn’t reiterate to any of these people that these were NOT her characters and if they wanted permission from the creator, they needed to reach out to unicornofgt. Even when unicornofgt tried to pass on this message, it was ignored by Cham’s little fandom, who continued to view her as the creative authority.

But even worse than Twitter was the Tiktok, where many of Cham’s GTMS videos went semi-viral, still leaving her sitting pretty at 18k followers while neither unicornofgt or bolshoycorvid saw any of it. Hundreds of comments gushed about the art, meanwhile both the true creators were lost in it. Eventually Cham didn’t even ask permission before posting, not bothering to check if it was true to the characters, but why stop to think when those videos are getting views up to 250k, with all the comments telling you they adore you and your work? It is your work, right?

What’s so insane to me is that you would think for such a talented artist, she would know the value of being properly credited for your work, especially fanwork across multiple platforms. But no, it had to be explained to her the importance of crediting the real creators of these characters in her posts, and the highly contrasting way people consume art, quick and easy to appreciate, vs writing, which takes more time to consume and appreciate. This isn’t some multi-billion dollar international franchise that’s universally recognized at a glance like DC/Marvel. This was a fun little series created between friends and shared with a small community as something new to enjoy for a little while. It’s not a licensed IP, it’s someone’s personal pet project that they enjoy. It’s completely unreasonable to assume a rando on Twitter is going to look at a badass pose of a giant woman and know that it at least came from an obscure series from an obscure fandom by a single person who was just trying to have fun on the internet. Hell, even 4chan users on the hentai board ask for sources all the time, to know who created these characters they’re jacking off to so that they can go check out their other work!!

Instead, you try to get the source for a GTMS fanart, you likely get Cham, and from Cham you get…no one. Because she failed over and over to make reference that it belonged to anyone else, via tags or in the text body, until long after it was too late with an edit. And there’s no sense in trying to beat around the bush, that’s borderline art theft. You took a character word for word, design for design, setting for setting, and sold it off as your own. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t your intention, that you were ignorant of the consequences – it’s what happened and it needs to be owned up to. This isn’t a petty squabble between two teens on fanfic.net about a demonsona OC for Sonic Underground, this is an adult making a conscious decision to post content of something that doesn’t belong to her and not give an ounce of credit. Not only that, it just furthers the divide between artists and writers in a creative space, with the latter hardly ever getting their dues for putting in their effort for a written piece that an artist can doodle in 15 min.

It was like creating a spectacle out of smoke, a flimsy foundation that was bearing its full weight down on the mental and emotional health of the person who actually created it. In a matter of months unicornofgt had gone from a simple writer of funny size difference things to being forced to watch their vision be watered down for the sake of uwu soft giantess wholesomeness, none of it being done by their hand.

And I think the worst part about all of this, after this whole mess finally came to light thanks to unicornofgt finally finding the courage to put their foot down and cut Cham off completely (both as a friend and for having permission to make anything GTMS related in the future), is that it was unicornofgt who had to leave this platform. It was bolshoycorvid who had to leave, in part for other reasons, but because they were also snuffed during this fiasco as well as both a co-creator and someone who had their own canon OCs/fics in the GTMS world. It was other friends and mutuals who left because they couldn’t stand the toxicity of this fandom anymore, the hypocrisy, the sheer lack of critical thinking and the inability to hold people accountable for their actions. GTMS was essentially abandoned after the dumpster fire was put out and that was it. The series that everyone seemed to fawn over and adore was forgotten at the drop of a hat.

Why? Because it wasn’t the written fics or unicornofgt that everyone was attached to; it was Cham’s art and her version of an OOC story she was pushing they loved. And once she stopped posting it, that was it. Dead in the water. Absolutely tainted. Can you blame unicornofgt for not wanting to touch their own creation that they had made from the ground up and put so much thought and energy into, all because it had been essentially stolen and ruined by someone with a much larger following? A following that hit over 20K during Cham’s GTMS reign across multiple platforms , might I add, while unicornofgt was lucky to see a fraction of that for the same concept.

I also want to note again that these are retellings told directly to me from the persons involved, including unicornofgt prior to their leaving, former fans, and Discord members, that I am airing with their permission. I’m also not someone who has a lot of social media or who followed GTMS at all, this is almost entirely coming from the creator (the REAL creator) in the time before they left, their experience dealing with the fallout, and the sentiment that even still they don’t hate Cham, but just wish there was even a single legitimate consequence on Cham’s part (and that non stop self bashing at the rescue of yes-men does not count). And it hurts to see a fellow g/t content creator be so scarred from this, to lose all interest in the things they cared about most and only wanted to share with their friends, due to one person’s inability to stop and think about their actions. And sure, maybe this is old drama, maybe it’s small and petty to still bring up, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else is going to pull back the rug that this was swept under, so it might as well be the local menace to the community to make a long ass post about it. Chamomile-g-tea killed an entire series and drove the creator, the co-creator, several fans and several more friends who also made g/t content off of an entire website because she couldn’t be bothered to not feel entitled to other people’s toys.

I lost a lot of good friends as a result of this, and the g/t community lost a lot of good content creators as well, to the point this really was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me to say fuck it. To sit here and watch my mutuals abandon their Tumblr’s and all their works in favor of avoiding Cham and her followers who keep pretending she did nothing wrong, acting like her excitement justified her “promotion” of the story, never holding her accountable and accepting at face value her claims that she had no idea the distress she was creating, letting her act as if she’s the victim of this whole ordeal – nah, chief. It didn’t matter if it was on purpose or not, it still happened, and she was allowed to get away with it scot-free, so I will continually throw this in everyone’s face so that the g/t community never forgets its track record .

Because I really don’t understand how this entire community can go through the same run around of “is fearplay/petplay morally wrong to create in a place full of minors” (which is another debate I am NOT getting into right now) and cause several blogs to abandon ship over the backlash they received…but a well known artist forces a popular series to be discontinued and runs off the original creator and their friends after she stole their concept, and everyone is just like “damn, that sucks, she just got too excited /:” and pretends it’s nothing? There have been plenty of former blogs that were called out for less and were forced to be accountable for whatever fuckery they were doing. Besides, I thought we were supposed to be thinking about the poor children here, the sweet minors, which was what her wholesome SFW blog catered to. Last I heard from one of her followers she started posting softcore GTS (I wouldn’t know, I have literally 0 desire to scout her blog), which sure, go ham bestie with your titties and light crushing, we all know I’m an 18+ blog.

But then she continues to interact and mass reblog from minors and bring them into her inner circle, sooo…which is it? Are we worried about corrupting the kids or not? Do minors have the ability to use critical thinking about what concepts are right or wrong, or not? Are people accountable for what they post or is it the responsibility of the viewers who need to heed the tags? Y’all don’t get to have it both ways. Not to mention, I will reiterate again, she never verified anyone’s ages and let them in freely to what was intended to be an 18+ space on the GTMS servers, which created PROBLEMS to the point the servers had to be shut down.

Everyone else can sit around thinking she got off scot-free and never needing to address the fact she destroyed an entire series beyond a meaningless sorry, but I’m not going to forget, even if I’m still the only one left from that era and friend group to be able to tell this side of the story. That hurt my friends just as much as it hurt the community to lose such incredible writers and their beloved content, and that’s inexcusable to me. Writers in general are already treated awful, especially in the g/t community, to the point people have the audacity to complain there’s no new content to enjoy after all the good writers got fed up with the lack of recognition. Art and writing are two different mediums and they both require an insane amount of talent to pull off beautifully – just because you can enjoy a pretty picture in 15 seconds versus a plot-rich fic in twenty-five minutes does not make one superior to the other. But if those fics are continually pushed aside, then why would any creator waste their hours and days and weeks and months making a story for no one to see?

Writing out concepts and ideas are a labor of love that are graciously shared to YOU to also enjoy. Trust me, I have no problem keeping an idea to myself or to be tossed back and forth to my friends for fun, it’s far less effort to still ‘see’ whatever story I would have jotted down for 20K words. If the community is going to continue treating writers like shit, as demonstrated through this hot mess, then of course no one is going to stick around to deal with it. A talented writer lost the world they built, the characters they developed, the story they were trying to tell, to one single artist, yet they were the one who had to pack it up and call it quits after getting hit with hate, while the other gets to roll in the second hand clout from un-credited posts across various platforms to further their own artistic career.

And frankly, I don’t really care about what kind of reception this post has; if it’s only seen by 5 people or if it’s seen by Cham herself, if people agree or disagree vehemently with it. This blog is also more or less dead aside from the few times a year I drop a new fic or art, so feel free to scream into its void as much as you want lmao

#g/t #g/t community #gtms #so anyways yeah fuck the g/t community all my homies hate the g/t community #and there's soooooo so so so much more drama that i didn't even touch here #because my main thing was about cham and i started getting more and more heated as i wrote this lmao #but i also prob won't be talking about those other dramas either because i just cannot bring myself to care anymore #if the last thing i do here is to bring light to this situation than so be it #idk i dont rly have much to say besides that i miss my friends and i miss the good times of 2019/20 and i miss the vibes

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pancho-pinto · 1 month ago

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I think our past is haunting you

my gift for @ccssystem / @tyberious-arts-sometimes as a pinch-hit for @mcyt-yaoi-exchange

Fandom: 3rd Life, Hermitcraft SMP Words: 3,037 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationships: Etho/Joel Additional Tags: Mild Gore, Illusions, Hallucinations, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Joel-centric Summary: Despite their time apart, Joel joining Hermitcraft might've triggered specific memories. And quite bloody memories.

Fic under cut.

The first time happens shortly after returning home. Joel barely even remembers the images imposed in his mind, only left with the searing pain of sharp weapons slashing through his body. Paper thin skin, waterfalls of blood, only one survivor.

Vaguely, he sees an arena, a colosseum that expanded from horizon to horizon; a thousand eyes in the sky like stars, burning up in broad daylight. The eyes watched them for hours without blinking. His and their every move and action for their amusement.

On worse nights, when sleeping is impossible and the experience becomes present, a feeling bubbles under his skin. He stares at his hands relentlessly—flashes of blood, bloodied weapon in his hands, a body gone cold. Breathing is hard on those nights, the guilt overwhelming.

But time passes and it becomes a distant memory.

One day he stops flinching when he hears sounds behind him. One day he holds the handle of his sword with confidence again, one day his ax makes a return and he feels complete.

With time, everything returns to normal.

Until they are summoned again. And again. And again.

Five seasons. Five whole seasons, all those months he will never get back. All the scars he got in return—

Joel thinks he is handling it pretty well, all things considered. He is tough, and he is resilient, and, above it all, he is stubborn. There is nothing that can keep him down—he refuses to stay down.

And yet…

Two months flew by since Secret Life, and suddenly Joel finds himself in a new world. A whole new server, though not another game. Something nicer—somewhere more domestic where death means little, and friends are less back-stabby with many new faces.

Some familiar, the rest strangers he will know in time.

Despite it being a piece of paper, the invitation in his pocket weighs more than he could imagine. He still hears Jimmy’s cheering in the back of his mind, and right now, he has Grian babbling on and on about whatever.

He should be listening. But something else distracts him.

While the whole group discusses how to divide the cherry mountain, Joel looks to the horizon, the only way he can answer the abrupt tug on his soul—much too familiar, jarringly familiar. His body stays frozen as the world heats up, crisp air replaced with smoke and cherry petals turning into soot.

Pinks and greens become reds and browns, a world set ablaze. It eats his clothes, consuming threads by threads, clawing at his skin and eating through the muscle down to the bones. Arduous lashes cut through, shattering bones as the smoke wraps around his neck.

There is screaming. Throat scorched and his words dry. Voices, there is someone calling out to him—

After that, Demise plays out as everyone settles into the new world. Activity is plenty, and block by block, bases rise up from the ground. Of course, Joel is among them.

Skyscrapers reaching out to the sky, bustling city with signs that never sleep. Soon, his world is filled with more and more, and yet he feels hollow. The pride he feels is not enough to mute the call.

During a sleepless night, one of many, Joel sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the planks of his floor. His body is stone but far too wired to rest, so he sinks his elbows into his knees and drops his head.

There is static under his skin, soot under his fingernails, a fire he cannot see but feels. Licks of fire on his face, running fingers through his hair, wishing him back in the arena where blood can be shed.

He has made it a habit to store his tools away at night. In a special shulker in his ender chest, the sharpness kept from his hands and delicate skin. Death means nothing on this server, but it calls with a honey-sweet voice.

The itch to sink his ax into something until it squirms, until it stops squirming and a pool of red flows under. Break a bone or two, push someone off a cliff, explosions that lead to a warm rain—bloody raindrops and rotting guts.

Joel yanks his hand down, digging his fingers into the edge of his mattress, the tension pushing back on his fingers on his hand. His eyes unfocus on the planks, lines of wood becoming tripwire in the darkness. Awaiting. Awaiting. Some poor soul—

A hand grabs his forearm tight, claws tense around his muscle, nearly piercing. There is growling in front of him, purple particles floating down as the hand freezes his arm. It pulls him but he fights back.

It screeches.

His hearts begin to tick down.

Joel throws his body back, left hand wrapped around his right, trying desperately to pull it back, feet planted for support. He screams when his shoulder pops out of place, slowly, slowly he feels the muscle pulling as it comes undone, ripping under his shirt.

Blindly, he kicks forward. The sole of his foot makes contact with something and he frees himself, quickly gathering his bearings before running out of his room. He practically throws himself down the stairs, a jolt of pain shooting up his spine when the heel of his foot plants forcefully on the hard planks.

In his haste, he runs with an empty inventory, shoeless down the stone streets. Lights sparkle around him as every cut and every bruise on his body resurfaces—lighting down his spine, burning coal under his feet.

He runs out of his city, from the overwhelming to the eerily quiet and cold. He hears mobs, all his instincts heightened to the max as survival kicks in. Without a plan or a way to protect himself, he runs through the fields, evading hungry groans and zapping arrows.

Water rushes nearby, raging waves against his thundering heartbeat. His sweat is like sludge, stuck to his brow and slowly dripping, burning up his nostrils and filling his tongue with a bitter taste.

A vine latches from his left shoulder to his right hip, looping back to lasso him back. Thin, wire-like vine that slices through his clothes, sliding cuts across his chest as it pulls him back. Another vines loops on his right upper arm, drawing a hiss from his lips as it pulls on already sensitive muscle. Then one more around his left ankle, like weed growing up his leg with thorns embedding into it.

Despite holding strong on his chest, his limbs waver with every step, hung back closer to the grasp of whoever or whatever behind him. Joel spares no glance, gritting his teeth with white-knuckle fists, pulling his body forward. Every muscle in his body strained, but his determination remains unbroken, until—

Stupidly, he slips on a rabbit-hole, twisting his ankle with a shout. His body slams against the ground, the pain quickly dulled by the sharpness and harness of being dragged through the ground. Rocks and sticks make a mess of his clothes and body, the grass staining his ripped clothes into a mocking green.

Green is safe. Green is good.

Ironic.

How very ironic.

His body folds over a trunk, knocking the wind from his lungs, but his instincts make the most of it, arms rapidly around the base, holding on tight as his body finally stops moving. Whatever is behind continues to pull, pull, pull, but his body stays in place. Bark chips against his face and arms, sweaty palms slide slightly but he holds on.

With brute force and fiery determination, Joel climbs the tree until he is on his feet again, more vines around his body now. There are some around the tree too, trapping him to it but not as firm and without the tension. He presses his forearm across the trunk, keeping himself from fully hugging the tree. He breathes in fire and breathes out smoke, tasting iron and salt on his tongue, skin like wet ash and the rest of his body wails in agonizing pain.

At this rate, he will be torn apart muscle by muscle.

A bloody taste appears on his tongue, his teeth sharpening into the canines of a wolf, sharp enough to tear through muscle. He had. He had—

Joel pulls his body away from the tree as he uses his forearms to push back, the tension of the vines merely growing. Snap, snap, snap, he chants in his head. His plea works when a couple break, though not without a price. The broken ends whips into his back and sides—more cuts, he is almost numb to the pain.

He sobs when he finds his opening, one more cut against his palm before he is running again.

Shaky legs. Soaked in sweat and body. Strangling vines still latched.

Then one more. He feels it, casted like a line. Half a loop, from his left shoulder to the right side of his hip again, then it stops—

A single claw hooks—

It drags a deep line, retracing the path already made, opening his shirt to the harsh wind. He screams into the dark of night. The claw catches on the bone of his shoulder before he finally breaks through it. It snaps, the line breaks, and he wishes he could land.

Instead, he keeps running.

He remembers.

He answers.

He calls.

His soul rattles, screaming into the void so it screams back. Tear stained face, bloodied body, torn muscles— He prays Etho feels not an ounce.

In his fogged up state, Joel realizes too late, unable to stop himself from plummeting off the cliff. From one second to the next, the ground stops existing under his feet and he splashes. Cold shocks his body before it burns, he sinks, he sinks—

Lava.

It burns.

It melts.

He gasps for air when he breaks the surface, losing feeling of his body as he loses himself. Lost in the the dead of night, lost somewhere in the world, he looks up and a thousand burning eyes stare back at him—

The crowd laugh and cheer when he is too weak, when every blink takes longer to recover from. A voice, it calls to him—

Still, he wakes up in darkness, jolted awake with sweat on his brow. His body aches and his lungs cannot quite fill up when he heaves.

Warmth. A light. Dim—

“Settle down. Aren’t you tired?”

No, not darkness. There is the dim light of a candle nearby, Joel does not bother finding it; instead, he finds the voice, follows it until he faces him.

Etho.

His soulmate.

Former?

Etho does not question the silence nor tries to fill it in. Despite their whole thing this Hermitcraft season, Etho is content to not play along right now. Joel almost finds it odd, if it were not for the fact that he feels relief. Relief at the mere sight of him.

Etho chuckles as he hands him a cup of water, “Drink up. Though you had plenty of water already.”

Joel accepts the cup and gulps it down, only acknowledging his thirst once the cup is empty. He looks at Etho with big eyes and a pathetic look, and Etho gives him his cup. When he finishes Etho’s cup too, he clinks the cups, eyes fixed on them rather than his companion. He thinks about Etho’s words, but before he can ask, Etho is sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, watching as always.

He clinks the cups one more time then asks, “It didn’t happen, did it?”

A second, then another, then an answer. Quiet, hushed, sweet. “No.”

“I…”

“Ran into the river. I…” Etho pauses, Joel is scared to look. “You were sinking. Almost halfway down when I found you. You… You were so weak and… I… I’m sorry. I should’ve found you sooner.”

That makes Joel look up, unsure if hopeful or confused.

“I had this feeling that you were calling. I didn’t think… Grian… He said it wasn’t supposed to happen—a bug, he called it. Impossible.” Etho chuckles, dropping his gaze to the side. Joel looks at his naked face, traces the sad smile on his lips, wonders idly about the same things he had thought about back then. How his lips tasted, how it would feel to be held by him, how it would be to be with him. “Grian said it was impossible, and look at us. Still… still tied together.”

“Do you hate it?” Joel asks, quiet and terrified. He feels small and stupid.

Sitting in Etho’s too big bed, wearing clothes that are not his own, holding two empty cups. Staring at his former soulmate—this stranger turned soulmate turned enemy. I love you, Etho had said last game, Joel hung onto the words even if he knew better.

His eyes drop when Etho does not look back, landing on his arms. Scarred skin, burn marks that will stay with them for a while. Not many but some linger, and he feels a patch of skin burn in his own arm. Matching, exactly the same.

Joel thinks about his base, his own bed. He feels tired. The chase must have not been real, but his body is still exhausted.

He must have run circles around the server. Lucky enough to not die to any mob or fall into some ravine. Luckier to still have made his way to Etho as he subconsciously wanted.

Luckiest that Etho found him?

Can he say that?

“Of course I don’t hate it.” The words break Joel out of his trance, head snapping to find Etho looking at him, brow knit. He opens his mouth to say something but Etho gets ahead of him. “You’re tired. And sad, but mostly tired. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought you wouldn’t care.”

“Wh–”

“It’s not like you came to me either.”

Etho presses his lips shut, but this time, he holds Joel’s gaze. Joel catches flickering determination in his eyes, specks of fire like the time they had turned Red together. When the Relation-Ship burnt down. He knows that fire, his fire that ignited Etho’s.

“You care,” Joel mouths the statement, hesitation in the background.

“I care,” Etho confirms.

One of the cup rolls between his legs as he drags his now free hand down his face. There is lingering tension on his body with a healthy dose of phantom pain. Etho squints, attentive. Joel worries,

Etho sighs, “I don’t think the soulbound is fully back. I can… feel you, but not like before. It’s like a tug, a weakish one.”

Joel forces himself to relax, even after being told Etho knows, slapping a smirk on his lips. “You feel me? Gee, Eefo, I know this is the first time we are spending alone since Double Life, but—”

He still wavers.

Coward.

“No, no, finish that,” Etho taunts, crossing his arms over his chest in a challenging stance. He quirks an eyebrow, lips mostly a line.

Joel tosses the other cup beside his thigh.

“Come on,” Etho says, and Joel can begin to pick up the laced taunting in his tone, “finish your statement, Joel. I want to know.”

The smile appears eventually, enough to soothe some strain—physical and emotional in equal parts. He finds it odd to be able to stare at his face for so long. He almost laughs at his past self for holding onto those glimpses and brief moments too tightly, so close to his chest. If only past Joel knew he would be able to openly look at Etho's maskless face, he wonders how things would have played out back then.

He still finds it hard to believe.

“But…” he starts, but comes out short with no continuation.

“What if I kissed you? We don’t have to talk. We’re not very good at talking.” Etho offers, and Joel clutches the sheets tight. Etho smirks, “Breathe, Joel. You know how to.”

“Don’t use the soulbound against me!”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“You are being dramatic. Have you considered that you are just so easy to read? Or maybe, just maybe I know a little about you? Enough to know your tells.”

“You don’t know anything about me. You haven’t talked to me since Double Life, and the times you have, it’s always been around others. You can’t know me. Double Life was so short. You—”

Etho leaps closer, right knee pressing down on Joel’s right thigh, looking right into his eyes. Heat. Again.

This is how they died. Back in the portal. Surrounded by raining lava, burning up, staring at each other with defeat and acceptance and feelings that went unspoken.

Joel remembers that moment. Has it engraved in his mind, carved with chisel into his very soul and heart. Etho’s face dulled the pain back then—Etho’s presence lights up the fire this time.

A hand cradling his face, slightly cool against burning skin, dizzying heat all around him. The cup rattles as Etho tosses it with the other. Joel finds it hard to breathe, finds it hard to break from the fire and cold of Etho’s eyes, he finds himself entranced and trance and so happily content to be where he is.

Lips scorch his, just a touch that has them breathing into each other. A sigh, relief, satisfaction. Etho goes for another, longer, lingering. His body pushes forward too, free arm wrapped around his side, messing up the sheets under them even more. Joel wants to kick them off, but he also wants to push back, kiss him back like he has always dreamed about.

Rather, his head falls back as heat trickles down from the corners of his lips to his jaw, pooling around his neck. He closes his eyes and he sees red, shallow breaths and sighs as lips nip on skin. His body stutters when Etho kisses the underside of his jaw, trailing up under his ear where teeth teases shudder from his lips.

Wet lips lock on his again, leaving his neck burning without attention.

Joel kisses back, a new kind of burning that numbs his mind. The night stays sleepless but the memories are quieter after.

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #smalletho #boat boys #ethoslab #smallishbeans #panfic #content warnings are at the top #and the content being warned is under the cut #>.>

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meruz · 11 months ago

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hi im putting all my asks in one post again. these are from like the past month and a half approx? some digimon thoughts some tmnt thoughts some art musings u know the usual

@waywardistics YAYY thank you so much for ordering! I'm glad it got to you & that you are enjoying it!

this is kind of a missive to everyone who ordered but: I am very nervous about pre-orders whenever I do them... nervous that not very many people will order, nervous that there will be supply chain or production dilemmas and I won't be able to get copies out to people in a timely fashion, nervous about having people's money but having an indeterminate amt of time where i have not yet "held up my part of the bargain" etc etc SO. THANK U GUYS...FOR ORDERING and being patient and im so glad it got to y'all

@seanonthemoon (idk why i cant tag u BUT) interesting... i gotta be honest I don't think abt the crests that much. i agree that they're very much like heres the "girl" crest heres the "nerd boy" crest etc to the point that it becomes almost meaningless. but i think what makes them even more meaningless to me, and is probably the reason they kind of designated girl/boy crests etc is that i think like the digivices they're toys and merchandise more than they are actual narrative tools LOL. I wouldve loved something with cody and mimi! theyre both so deeply empathetic and sensitive.. theres a lot they share but i think because they look so different on the surface it would make it difficult to market that merch...booo capitalism boooo toy marketing its all sexist bullshit at least here in the u.s. idk if japan is that different though.

I'm actually a little frustrated with how often 02 and 02 related media squanders cody in general lol. he feels like a parallel of izzy, joe, and TK(season 1 tk) while also being kind of none of those and suffering through lackluster characterization as a result... and then once ken joins the team it feels a little redundant. there's a couple cody-centric eps of 02 I remember really liking but then i think abt how he's been used since in like post-series content and 02:the beginning where they made him type on the computer even though obviously that's yoleis thing but because he had nothing else to do and aghh... my blood boils. i feel like the youngest but most serious anime achetype even at its bare bones is actually rly interesting idk why they don't play it up. UM. Once again my opinion is that he should be taller LOL and maybe they should play up his kendo martial arts honorable training stuff more idk. tallest + youngest + most serious just seems like a recipe for success for me. well. theres still time. and theres always fanfic.

THIS IS SO NICE TO SAY and not the first time someone has said it but i appreciate it everytime because i really admire the mm art style so much. It's like part of why I got really into the movie because I really recognized my own artistic sensibilities and aspirations in the way they stylized everything.

UM And i feel like since watching the movie and looking at all the concept art and making my own art i do feel like its only become more obvious how much my own art is lacking LOL LIKE when you see something that feels so similar I think the differences only become more stark. those artists are definitely on a different level than me. But it's nice to hear people say it doesn't look so different from their pov. thank u ^^

thank u!!!!!!! i love mundanity and naturalism... there's something so beautiful abt it to me lol... I feel like my anatomy needs work actually but ive been feeling better abt it this year so it's good to hear! thank you!

DLKGDSGDLALSNDF WAS IT TOO FAR..?? firstly, yeah I was thinking late teen/young adult ages for both of them ie 18-19ish, definitely not the age the kids are in the movie lol.

but also they arent DOING anything in that pic it is literally just a confrontation + some innuendo... I think teens should be allowed some less than subtle innuendo.. its like one of the top 3 classically teen pastimes...

this is such a funny ask to get because i feel like i haven't been able to do thin lineart until like. this past year or two maybe LOL. UM having a line-centric art job helped I think. I started on craig of the creek back in 2022 and thats a show where we spend a lot of time inking so I had a job where I was constantly moderating my line weight 40 hours a week every week for over a year. disappointingly, much of improvement is simply horrendous amounts of practice.

Here's a tip though: I think a lot of thin lineart boils down to confidence. I think instinctively we read thick, bold, fast lines as confident but theres actually a lot of obscuring you can do with a thick line. if you're not sure whether the nose on the face or a browline should be a little more left or a little more down you can hide that with a thick line and pretend its a shadow. or hide it with a bunch of quick lines and the eye can kind of approximate where looks best among the mass.. whereas a thin line is rly singular and stark and hides nothing, it needs to be precise. so anytime i know i want thin lineart i spend a LOT of time sketching, making sure i know exactly where i want my lines to go. so im not second guessing by the time im inking...

ok thats kind of a broad tip lol... here's one thats more applicable: IF POSSIBLE, lower your pressure sensitivity on your device. most devices have some way to edit your pressure sensitivity curve. I use a surface pro at home and this is what my pressure curve looks like most of the time.

When I work on a wacom it looks even more like a reverse L shape LOL. I'm naturally a really heavy-handed artist and I use a "light" or "hard" pressure curve to compensate for how hard I'm always pressing on the pen lol. if you're like me and you struggle with going too hard with the ink too fast... this will probably help a lot!

SFHASLDFH I LOVE THIS ASK this is like the type of question a person gets asked when chalk drawing on the sidewalk at recess LOL. but i understand because I've been struggling also for like. months. I think I'm finally starting to nail it down though so here's some of my observations.

[feel free to save this img but **please do not re-post it or share broadly**. my biggest fear in the world is to spend 30 min on some notes and become a widely proliferated art tutorial im not even kidding. i made it low contrast and difficult to read on purpose.]

my other tip is to just look at and study a lot of reference because that's all ive been doing. the tmnt are really cartoony so its difficult to use like actual anatomical reference unless ur going for that look BUT theres been so many adaptions in so many different styles that there's a real treasure trove of stuff to look at for how to simplify, stylize, and dissect these characters while keeping the recognizable essence. so theres lots to pull from.

If you want to expand further, it's also good to have 5) something sci-fi 6)something fantasy 7)something mundane/slice of life. a bedroom is a really good go-to. And of course some bgs can be two or more of these things at once.

I've definitely answered asks abt bg tips before but here's one specifically for if you want to do bg design for a job:

Your portfolio should probably have at least one of each of the following 1) an interior 2) an exterior 3) a cityscape 4) a nature scene. Just to cover kind of the basics of what you'd be asked to draw on any given project.

I actually feel like I don't have that many cityscrapes in my portfolio... this is something I'm gonna try to work on in the coming year LOL. OH ALSO. This is a very basic tip and people will tell you it all the time but its worth repeating: look up portfolio websites of artists who have the job you want. An easy way to do this is to go onto imdb for any cartoon or movie you like and to find the names listed as "bg/background designer" or whatever then just google that name +"art" or "animation" most artists have some public facing internet presence so it's not hard. spend time studying their work and hold those images in your head! it's a good way to get a good idea of what "industry standard" looks like and comparing ur own art to it... I know people sometimes get bummed comparing their art to others but if you can keep your head up lol.. it'll help you figure out what you need to work on!

ok thats all i have to say sorry for typing so much. happy new year everybody who read this far LMAO!!!!!

#ask

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