#makes me wish i was a string player
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go listen to schoenberg verklärte nacht and cry for half an hour then maybe you'll feel better
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Sleep Token on Royal Albert Hall with a live orchestra. Ascensionism starts with a beautiful string section. The cellos take over with some really soft, high violin tremolos, and a beautiful viola base.
#I wish i was a better violinist so I could make this happen a little bit#I am committing to double down on my violin practice so this will come to fruition#please tell me we have more string players here please that would be so yummy. cellos i am calling out#(this is very much inspired by BMTH Royal Albert Hall concert yes. I am listening to Ascensionism and this arrangement just came to mind)#I cannot stress how much I need this to be a real thing#string players save me. string players. save me string players#sleep token
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Have you ever wrote something like
Detective reader x criminal yandere or vice versa
♡ TW: yandere, kidnapping, serial killer, mutilation, blood and gore, amatuer amputation
♡ gn reader
It’s so sweet of you to be so obsessed with him. Following his every track—of the tracks he decides to leave behind for you, of course. But in this game the two of you play it’s clear who’s the better player. But then again, it’s not exactly a fair fight. You have to follow the law, after all, and he doesn’t. It’s way easier for him when he can watch you through any means he deems necessary—while you have to go through your boss each and every time you wish to follow up on any simple lead.
Oh, but you’re so cute—with your little crimeboard. “Is all that red string for little old me?” he’ll chuckle under his breath, sipping his coffee as he stares at your busy body from across the room. It’s too bad it’s all a waste. You’ll never find him, even though he’s right under your nose as a fellow detective.
In a way, he wishes you could play cat and mouse forever, constantly switching the roles. Though he salutes you for getting this far—there have been times when you’ve made him have to work twice as diligently—but in the end, it’s far too easy to stop you.
“I’m sorry about this—I wish I could do it differently, but you, of all people, know my M.O. better than anyone,” he apologizes, kneeling before the spot he has you strapped to a chair in his living room—a plastic sheet beneath you with your wrist neatly fixed to the armrest as he holds a heated knife to your pinky.
The gag between your teeth soaks with your spit and screams as he expertly snips the little finger clean off.
“There we go, all done!” he cheers, smiling at you gently, then putting your lopped-off digit into a plastic container filled with ice. “I’ll make sure our respected coworkers find this tomorrow.”
You shiver, screams turning to sobs and gasps. He places the box and knife onto the floor, then proceeds to cup your face in both blood-wet hands.
“Don’t worry,” he ushers. “I’m not gonna kill you like I did all the others.”
He gets in close. Thumbs stroking your tear-soaked cheeks, painting them red. His eyes seem black—eclipsed with something inhuman as he skitters across your face from your glassy doll eyes all swollen and glittery to your sniffling nose and your plumped lips sucking the cloth he’d tied around the back of your head.
Even closer now, he continues with a rasp, “No—just for you—I’ll break my ritual and keep you safe and sound with me as a living trophy,” he laughs then, breathily with elation, placing his forehead upon your sweat-pilled one. “You’ll be my audience while I continue my work,” he muses while smiling giddily up at you. “My sweetest and prettiest little fan.”
♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Hawks, ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Tendou, Atsumu ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Kiryu, Umemiya, Togame ♡ AOT – Armin
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au mlist) - smut; f!reader; short drabble only!
yea i bet youre all tired of hearing hockey come out of my mouth but thinking about—
hockey player simon receiving a text from you after a game.
they defeated their opponent in a shutout—price carrying the team on enemy ice, with garrick coming in with solid defences, allowing mactavish and simon to sink a shot after another.
it was an electrifying game; even now as he’s stuffed in his cubicle, simon feels like he’s on top of the world. like the cup is so close to his reach—just a few more rally and he’s bringing it home.
the locker room is buzzed, congratulations getting passed from one to another while their coach awards the disk to price for the shutout. the media is still taping this whole interaction so the team remains conscious, guarded, until, finally, everything is wrapped up.
the others clamber to the showers but simon digs for his phone, desperate to talk to you. to tell you that he’s won—he doesn’t know if you’ve watched the game, not with how packed your schedule’s gotten—so if you haven’t, he wishes to at least be the first to let you know.
he wants you to hear it from him; hear from him how they dominated tonight’s game.
(6-0 for the specgru. in the playoffs.)
but there’s already a message from you, sitting atop the strings of notification filling up his phone screen. he ignores the emails from brands reaching out for brand deals or fans sending in messages to his public socials, and taps on your name.
his eyes grow wide, his breath hitching, because—
> 2 goals tonight, baby. almost a hatty.
> have i told you how your hockey makes me hot? almost makes me want to fly there to give you a reward
the start of a whimper builds in the base of his throat, scratching at his trachea.
jesus.
the last time you’ve rewarded him for his performance—a hatty, one of which was an empty net goal—simon had to grit through the horror of seeing you have a difficulty in sitting down the next few days. until now, he swears that he tried holding back, to take it easy despite his needs, but then you crawled to his lap and sang praises in his ears, and simon was gone.
you were so needy for him. for his skate and his play and his victory. and how could simon control himself then?
so this—your messages that are lidded with a tease—is torture. the flight won’t even be until tomorrow morning so you’ve just left him extremely pent-up, buzzing, with his desires poorly-leashed.
all he could do is send a weak,
when i’m back, can you give it then? <
you’ve only liked his message as a reply and simon knows it for what it is—a deliberate hooking; filling him up with tension. with unbridled energy, all uncontainable, so he can fuck all of that into you.
shit. now he’s all hard underneath his cup.
the quick rub in the shower stalls was not enough so he races to their hotel, locking himself in his room and proceeds to fuck his fist as he swipes at the album he’s locked away in his gallery. it’s the gallery that only you and simon know about.
it’s full of pictures. of videos and audios.
it’s full of you fingering your sensitive pussy, and of simon finally getting his hands on your cunt and dragging you up to his mouth for a taste, and of simon fucking you at every surface—on the island, in the living room, against the window, in front of the mirror.
in some of them, he’s still wearing his jersey. in most of them, you’re the one who has it on.
simon cums once. then rubs another one before the flight because he makes the mistake of rereading your previous message. the release isn’t euphoric; sure, it’s enough to stop the fever, but it was almost too clinical.
you’re still in your gym clothes when simon’s clumsily making his way home. you shriek at the way he just covers you with his bulk, before giggling at the ticklish feeling of his scruff rubbing against your cheek.
“missed you,” he says.
you whine, nodding, before pushing him back just enough that you can finally jump into his arms. simon soaks up the attention, like it’s sticky liquorice, and the nuzzled kisses.
even the words pressed on his lips, he devours but there’s one thing simon needs more, and he’s almost shaking when you finally noticed.
you laugh, poking his cheek, before giving him what he wants.
“your hockey’s so hot, si,” you trill. “fuck me?”
“please,” simon croaks out because that is all he could truly say.
#suns#hockey au#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#hockey player simon#f!reader#truly wrote this to decrompress after the playoff ���
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hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?
MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)
summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate
face claim : no-one exact
notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.
pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader
BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.
You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.
Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.
Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.
One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.
You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.
"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."
"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."
Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."
Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"
Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."
"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.
"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."
Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"
"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.
Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"
He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"
You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."
"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."
He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."
As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.
"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.
"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"
"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.
As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"
"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."
"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."
At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.
"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).
Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.
He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.
"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.
You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."
Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"
"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."
He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.
You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."
His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.
As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"
"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."
Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"
Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."
Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.
"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.
"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."
Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.
You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.
Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.
Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.
You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.
He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."
It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.
#fc barcelona x reader#fcb x reader#marc guiu fluff#marc guiu imagine#marc x reader#marc guiu x reader#Marc guiu paz x reader#marc guiu#pablo gavi x reader#pedri x reader#joao felix x reader#marc guiu fanfic#marc guiu oneshot#marc guiu fic#fc barcelona#barca#fc barca#football imagine#football fanfic#barça#fc barça#barcelona fc#footballer imagine#pedri#pablo gavi#gavi#hector fort#lamine yamal#pau cubarsi#joao felix
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at your service | rafayel
summary: Gaining the upper hand in Kitty Cards has its benefits, which solely consist of making the loser (Rafayel) comply to the winner’s choice.
tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, kitty cards (derogatory), teasing, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), 'miss bodyguard' name mention, thomas mention, maid!rafayel, sub!rafayel, costumes, roleplay, maids, photography, kissing, praise kink, ‘master’ kink, brief mouth fucking, finger sucking, handjobs, m!orgasm, ejaculate, implied/suggestive ending
wc: 3.0k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist
a/n: don't ask me what happened but just know i will die on the hill that is maid!rafayel
You couldn’t believe your luck.
And Rafayel couldn’t understand his lack of it.
The Evol kittens were no better in-between the two of you—some were happily purring or fast asleep, comfortable in their colored teacups. More importantly, unbothered and unaware of the two players on opposite spectrums in their aftermath.
Out of the nine creatures, an overwhelming majority belonged to you. After a long, arduous dual and third round sweep, you had overshadowed Rafayel with a score of thirty-two points to his measly eight sum. He held a quarter to your victory.
“This game sucks,” Rafayel sulks. His frown mirrors one of the red Evol kittens closest to him, rounded tears blobbing down its cheeks. Both defeated, worse for wear at the outcome.
You let out a small laugh. “You say that, and yet you still play with me every week.”
You poke the cheek of a cheery green Evol kitten, who nudges against your touch in turn and meows. “Isn’t that right, little fella?” It delightfully purrs back at you, the accordance only rubbing more salt into Rafayel’s poor wound.
“Hmph.” He doesn’t fight you there, chin resting in the palm of his hand and averting your teasing gaze.
You collect your hand and his, returning all cards to the discard pile with a satisfied hum. No sooner did a café worker come by to clear your table, leaving the two of you to your devices.
“And you know what that means, don’t you?” You lean forward, reaching to his sulking demeanor. Catching the sleeve of his blouse, you lightly pinch the silk between your fingers, putting on your own petulant expression. “Unless you forgot so soon.”
As long as he breathed and lived, it was actually Rafayel who would constantly have to remind you of things said and done in the past. Less of the forgetful one between you, he takes pride in his memory retention.
Even so, he couldn’t stay upset with you for so long. His shoulders relax at the sound, back straightening and taking your hand into his. A scoff of, “Puh-lease, of course I remember,” answers your questions.
“Loser does what the winner wants,” he tacks on in confidence.
It was the terms agreed upon when stepping into Meow Meow Café earlier that day—he didn’t think much of it at the time, confident he would win today’s rounds.
But, that wasn’t the case. Right. You won the first, he the second, and as for the third…
Rafayel pauses then, dual-chromed eyes now narrowing in suspicion. “Wait a minute. I’m the loser.”
You nod, a grin plastered to your face. “Today you are, yeah.”
“And you’re the winner,” he follows up.
(If you look close enough, you could make out swirls of equations and calculations floating around his head.)
“Two for two, you’re absolutely correct.” With a gentle tug and rise from your seat, you string along a bewildered artist in tow.
It came altogether then. A sense of dread at your unrevealed schemes quickly fills his tone, face already draining of its color. “Oh no,” Rafayel groans.
“Oh yes,” you chirp. “I have a wish that needs to be granted, and you’re going to help me out!”
—
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
You stood outside the bathroom door, which was currently (and firmly) locked from within. Not that you were going to barge in unannounced, but surely it warranted some concern when Rafayel hadn’t stepped a single foot out since entering. Only the rustles of clothing and hushed utterances echoed the acoustics of tiled walls; you couldn’t really make out any of the finer details otherwise.
And it’s been ten minutes.
You clear your throat, wondering if he missed the first time you called out. “Ra—fa—yel—“
The door swings open then, the man of the hour greeting you with, “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”
It took a second to register his reappearance, and your mouth fell slack taking him in. “Woah,” you breathe out in awe.
No longer in his casual blouse and accompanying slacks, the artist stood before you in a newly picked attire.
White knee-high socks stuck to his calves, with the edge of their supporting garters partially hidden and neatly wrapped all the same. A frilled apron of ivory linen rested neatly above his kneecaps, blanketing the black satin of a dress in an equally-met length underneath. Sleeves puffed around his shoulders, and a pointed collar was tastefully unbuttoned in fashion—undoubtedly of his own doing, revealing the flush of his chest and collarbone that homed one of his many beauty marks.
To which, he instinctively covers up with a defensive cross of arms and ears tipped in a bright red. Embarrassment follows his rather meek stance. “So like, that’s all, right? Can I take this off now?”
You take a step closer, hands clasped behind your back in observation and hum. It was well-fitted to his body, hugged neatly in all the places where it mattered. Thomas came in clutch when you asked him the other day, catching him at Flux Arts during one of the slower viewing hours.
“His measurements?” The agent pondered your request. A couple swipes to his tab later, he adds on with a smile, “Sure thing. If it’s for Rafayel’s sake, then I’ll send them over.”
A little secret kept between the two of you, unbeknownst to the wearer. It was probably for the best, you wouldn’t hear the end of his moping otherwise.
Rafayel whines under your scrutinizing gaze that was lost in thought. “Hey—“
“Not yet,” you say with a shake of your head. “Indulge me for a while more. You took forever in there all by yourself, anyhow.”
You reveal a matching headdress between your once hidden fingers, a row of pleated ribbon swiftly placed amongst his wavy locks. The final piece of the puzzle, a maid in all his glory and in the comforts of your humble abode. A sense of glittering pride holds your gaze to his.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” he points out.
Your shoulders raise in a slight shrug. “Of course I am, it’s the winner’s right.” A hand trails down to the curve of his jaw, holding the face that continues to pout. With a light snicker and compliment in attendance, you tell him, “You look very cute, by the way.”
Rafayel’s pout twitches for a second, slyly revealing his enjoyment to the compliment. He clears his throat, saying, “Yeaaah right. Take a picture, I’m sure it’ll last longer.”
Oh, but he spoke too soon. His eyes widen when you actually take out your phone, much to his better judgment. “Hold on, you’re not planning on really keeping a memo, are you?”
“It would be a shame if I didn’t,” you counter. He said so himself—might as well take his word for it.
Swiping to the camera app, you position the lens inches away and see his furrowed brows through the viewfinder. You gently tug him forward, fingers fully curled underneath his chin. On the other hand, he purposefully sways back and forth in an effort to blur your captures.
You tsk. “The more you squirm, the longer I’ll have to keep trying to take a shot.”
“What, you don’t like my blurry faces too? They’re all handsome,” he huffs. Though a squish to his cheeks cuts him short, stilling him long enough for a ring of shutters to seal the deal.
“Alright, alright,” you coo to console his woes. “I think I managed to get a good one.”
You lower the phone in observation, scrolling through the new gallery additions. The flurry of dark lavender and hazy skin aside, a few select shots captured the paused moment of time where he did behave.
Device neatly tucked away into your back pocket, your attention turns back to the subject of your newest wallpaper. Even if this was a reward for you, he deserved just as much in compensation.
A soft kiss to Rafayel’s jutted lip melts some of his tension, brows no longer scrunched together. You smile at his relaxing shoulders and opening arms when you give another.
You shower him in adoration, butterflied smooches and his closing eyes soon pressing against the closest wall. Your hands run over the frills of his skirt, smooth to the touch and gently laid out atop his thighs. The barrier of fabric did nothing to hide the amount of warmth emanating through, the effect of your touches having a clear reaction on him.
You wondered if there was more to be seen—only one way to find out.
Shifting, you drag your lips away from his and to the sweet spot where his jaw and earlobe meet. You ask in a low voice, “So, what do you think?” His blush steadily follows into the very space, worsening when you blow gently over the affected skin. “Dressing up like this for me.”
“My thoughts?”
Whether it was in disbelief or furthered embarrassment—perhaps a fine condition of both—Rafayel could only exhale. You could feel his legs pressing together in unspoken confirmation, and a bashful turn of his head carries his murmur of, “What do you think I’m thinking about when you touch me like that?”
“Well,” you trail off. “I’d rather show and not tell.”
In a blink, your fingers bunch up the skirt fabric into messied pleats that reveal the answers you sought after. And it truly was a lovely sight to see—you let out a low whistle, impressed at the state he’s in. Through the sheer lace of white trim, a curved tip as red as his ears was weeping quietly, soiling the undergarment dutifully.
“Don’t look,” he whines, attempting to cover up his hardened arousal with the satin.
“Would you prefer if I touched instead?” You tease, catching his wrist in apt timing. You guide his hand over where his body couldn’t lie, and he noticeably twitches. “Oh? Maybe you prefer touching yourself.”
“I can’t do that,” Rafayel weakly counters. It breaks into a low moan when you slowly inch him closer to the beads of precum pulsing past his slit. He hisses when your thumb slips against it, purposefully smearing his come against the lace. “You’re so, so mean, Miss Bodygu—“
“Ah, not so fast.” You tut, drawing back and a string of his arousal follows. He gasps at the unexpected loss, protests shaping his lips before you continue your turn. “That’s not my proper title.”
Confusion tints the hues of red and blue that, already, were far dipped into the seas of lust. “I call you that all the time though.”
In hindsight, you are his Miss Bodyguard. Have been, for months on end, and with generous bank statements stamped with his name as a source of proof. One who graciously accompanies him when your schedules allow it, to even sightseeing trips for both business and pleasure.
He pauses, then notably gawks with the cogs of realization spinning. “You… Don’t tell me, you want me to call you that?”
It wouldn’t be the first time this particular name has come up in conversation, but the circumstances were vastly different. You bring your soiled thumb to his lips, swiping it across and allowing it to settle into a thin layer of gloss.
“You can’t be serious,” he says.
“Sorry, are you talking to me right now? I only listen to those with manners.” His eyes only grow in size, yet you feign indifference to it. Of course you would hear him out—though only with the proper name.
Ignorance was never bliss, but rather a crude form of torture for Rafayel. “M… m…” The word laid on the tip of his tongue in a hesitant sound, before a quick mumble follows.
“I can’t hear you.” Your fingers curl themselves once more in a grip over his chin, directing his gaze to go nowhere else but to you. And your eyes were steadfast, committing his flustered face to memory.
“Speak up,” you encourage.
The air above sea had never felt so suffocating yet enticing all at once. Rafayel couldn’t help but enjoy the heat, and the root cause of it, to which he says in a low groan, “Master.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Your faceted praise comes with a tilt of his head and a kiss to reward his newfound diligence. He sighs into your warmth that welcomes him, though it shifts to a whine when you pull away too soon.
Rafayel nudges your nose with his, a pity show pooling in his eyes. “More, Master.”
“More of what, exactly?” You contemplate, before a decisive, downwards push of his lacey underwear has him sighing.
His length stood proud against his abdomen, way past a softened state, firm and twitching to the exposed air. You draw a fine line from base to sensitive head, gauging his reaction. The other hand toys with the closest garter on his thigh, fingers dipping past the fine leather. “My sweet Rafayel,” you purr. “What should I do with you?”
“Want you to touch me,” he strains, an edge of impatience to confession. His lips move to mouth at your collarbone, no longer hiding his neediness and taking it in stride. It was rare for you to see this side of him, so vulnerable yet entirely reserved for you—a face he wouldn’t dare show anyone else.
Rafayel spoke with heat in his voice and hazy stars in his eyes. “Master, please. I swear I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything,” you muse, squeezing his thigh thoughtfully. “And all you want me to do is touch you.” You can’t help but chuckle when his enthusiastic nod only adds to your point.
You could see his illusory fox ears flatten in disappointment when you pull away, against his wishes. He lets out a small yelp when your fingers release the garter and smack against his skin.
“Master, I—“
“Open,” you instruct, fingers searching his lips once more.
And Rafayel does, choking a moan when you place them against his tongue. Carefully, you stroke his warm cavern, to which his mouth closes around and sucks with zeal. He swirls his tongue against the pads of your fingers, determined to please you.
His canines briefly graze your skin when you depart with a faint string. Now finely coated in a layer of his saliva, you dip your hand downwards—curling the sticky fingers around his nearly-neglected cock. Rafayel cants his hips immediately, supporting the salaciously wet noises that echo in tune.
You squeeze his length in warning, pressing the other hand to his abdomen. “Stay still,” you scold, feeling him contract beneath your pressure. “If you can’t follow a simple order, I’ll leave you high and dry.”
“No, no, no,” he whimpers, shaking his head adamantly. His hands grip the skirt, desperate and knuckles almost turning white from their strength. Something to keep him grounded, to make sure he listens well to his beloved—“Master, I won’t move, promise.”
You purse your lips. “We’ll see about that.”
Up and down, you tenderly attend to his arousal in generous strokes. Steady rubs and an occasional swipe to his sensitive head last for what feels like an eternity to Rafayel. He was so well-behaved when his orgasm was threatened, all in the palm of your hand.
“You’re close,” you observe with a particularly firm flick, “Aren’t you?”
“Mhm, ‘m very close,” Rafayel quickly admits, his breaths ardent and changing in pitch. He looked so beautiful like this, prettily wrapped around your fingers and a sweet song of your name resonates from his throat.
Abandoning the languid strokes, you angle your elbow to reach him sooner—faster. “A good, honest boy,” you coo. His blush only deepens at the sound, and his keens grow in volume. You’d apologize to the neighbors later.
“Should I let you come?” You ask knowingly.
“Master, Ma—ah—ster,” he cries out. “Can feel it, I’m about to—“ A tear rolls down his cheek, matching the one threatening to bead past his slit. “Please, please.” Overwhelmed and in a desperate need for relief, Rafayel’s expression stirred a flame within you.
“Let it out,” you coax, pace unrelenting and threatening to cramp your fingers. The finish line was only a step away, and you say with a smile, “Do it for me. Come undone, my little maid.”
Blissful orgasm wrecks his body, accompanying his labored whines and pearls of white leaving his spent cock. Both the fabric of his outfit and your hand became victims to the viscous liquid, with the air equally met with nothing but the scent of it.
Rafayel was boneless by the time he was nothing but dribbles of cum and a wrinkled skirt, slouching against the wall.
Your dry hand finds its way to his face, kindly stroking his cheek and adding a kiss to his relaxed brow. “You did so well, Raf.”
“Course I did,” he manages to jest in a hoarse voice. He eyes the state of his clothes and your dirtied hand, to which he nods towards. “Give me your hand.”
“What?” You look down, before raising it between your faces. It glistens, brought to the light and sinking into the creases of your skin. “Why—Ah.”
Obediently, Rafayel takes your fingers dripping in release to his mouth. He licks in strides at the leftovers as if it were a swirl of ice cream on a hot, summer day.
“Cleaning up the mess you made,” you muse, though make no movement to stop him. “What a dutiful maid I have.”
He nips your now unsullied fingertips at the comment. His hold on your wrist brings you closer—you stumble unexpectedly, letting go of his face to steady a hand to his chest.
“Raf—“ Your voice stutters when you feel his knee rub between your legs. Purposeful and angled, the pressure stokes the forsaken flames in your abdomen. “Rafayel,” you breathe, attempting to collect your bearings.
“I hope you know I won’t easily forget all the things you’ve done,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes glimmering in mischief. “I won’t let you off easy, Master.”
#kinktober#love and deepspace#rafayel#love and deepspace smut#rafayel smut#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#lads smut#lnds smut#lnd smut#lads x reader#lnds x reader#lnd x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace scenarios#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace rafayel#lads rafayel#lnd rafayel#lnds rafayel#gklnd#grandisknight fics#grandisknight kinktober
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night in - jb blurb.
warm bubble feeling burns your chest as you feel jude place a kiss on your temple, sitting right next to you on the floor, placing your hot drink next to his. “you’re having way to much fun on this,” he teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, while looking at you intently as you finished the second bag of the moana’s flowerpot legos.
“i fear i’m having way too much fun,” you joke back, clicking and connecting the small lego. “you realize these are made for nine year olds right?” he pushed further, helping you separate the legos in piles so you could find the legos easier. “so? i don’t complain when you play fifa at your grown age? screaming like a little girl when you unpack a player?” you defend watching jude open his mouth in shock, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.
“i’m glad we stayed in. i haven’t seen you much lately and i didn’t want to have just dinner and the call if a night. i love these little moments with you, d’you know? our playlist playing in the back, some baking, maybe cooking? but definitely how i have you all to myself…” jude says, his hand running up and down your spine, making you spin and face him directly where you brush a tamed curl back to already done hair.
“sounds like you just want to keep me for yourself?” you say watching how jude is ready to explain and yap but you cut him off quickly. “i’m kidding. i love staying in dates. especially around this time of your when your season is beginning to get hectic. believe it or not these dates have so much more meanings to when we’re out. i get to see a side of you only i can experience and see, and im so incredibly grateful for that. for you,” you smile leaning into his side where jude shyly looks down.
“don’t get shy with me mister.”
“oh like how you get shy after we-”
“okay so that’s like completely different?” you laugh dismissing the idea that was brewing in his head. “also i get to play house when i’m here. look at this place! the kitchen? the pool? the garden? the garden is my favorite we’ve grown so much in just under a year!” you say excitedly, giving up on the lego set, as now all you wanted was to be next with jude. to feel his safe embrace, his scent, to feel the comfort only he can give.
“those damn bunnies ruined it at first, i swear i was going to insane. i just know they were doing it on purpose after one stared me down as it ate the cherry tomatoes!” jude reclaimed, leaning back against the couch, bringing you to his lap where he traced your bracelet and the tiny tattoo on your thigh. the one of many you had, but this one was jude’s favorite. you didn’t have to tell him, but he could tell it was meant for him.
“to be fair you tormented that poor thing,” you recalled, thinking of the endless possibilities jude did so he could get rid of the bunnies in a happy manner. “it got what it deserved,” jude shrugged, taking a sip of mug, offering one of the infamous pumpkin pilsbury cookies to you.
“what else is on your fall bucket list?”
“we’ve done mostly all besides watching scary movies, visit a pumpkin patch and get a couples costume for trent’s party soon. besides that we’ve knocked everything else out,” you say cheery, the sense of joy never leaving you, knowing you were able to cross off and completely those wishes. “what has been your favorite activity yet?” he asked, tugging on a tiny string from your knitted sweater.
“probably decorating your house for the fall, since it was way to white… that or when we painted the pumpkins with the little kids,” you spoke softy and gently. watching jude’s eyes crinkle from paying attention to remembering the beautiful memory. “i really enjoyed that too, but nothing could beat fright fest,” jude laugh making you shake your head rapidly. t
“jude! i still haven’t forgave you for that! you take us to apparently a theme park and then walking in, there’s horror everywhere. especially those damn clowns…” you say, a tint of nervousness as you spoke out loud. “but i made it up to you,” he pouts, leaning up and pulling your face closer to his. “i won you a plenty stuffed animals and went downstairs for a week to get a glass of water. i was your protector.”
“you always are,” you hug him, your fingers grazing and tracing his ears down to his. “the beard has grown on me. you look very manly,” you say, his hairs tickling your palm. “i was thinking about shaving it soon,” he says, feeling completely relaxed as you touched him. it was that effect you had on him and he loved that so much. no feeling or person could make him feel the way you felt.
“nope. it will take too long for me to get used to,” you deny shaking your head as jude chuckles, grabbing your thighs and placing you on your back, jude not holding back from his physical touch. peppering kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks, your lips then down to your neck where you had another tattoo. your weak spot. “stop it, i know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work,” you warn.
“i’m just trying to show you my love and affection,” he said sarcastically, playing with the fabric on your chest, as he had layed his head gently on you. “yes but you have two meanings towards that… your mom is also right upstairs…” you whisper the last part, afraid of speaking to loudly. this was her house as much as it was his as well. he sighs, accepting defeat and pulling you closer to him. not before pulling you into a kiss that made you want to say fuck it. that damn kiss that forever leaves you breathless and wanting more.
“we should watch a horror movie,” you try to say between his kiss but jude was to focused on you. how you kissed him. how you tasted. feeling weaker but also stronger than ever. “no,” he stoped, this time flipping you over so you could lay on his chest.
“right i forgot. you’re a scaredy cat when it comes-”
“no i’m not! i just don’t want to bring any bad energy in my house,” he cheesed hardly, looking up knowing you were giving him a “are you serious look”.
“the best i can do is watch the nightmare before christmas. take it or leave it,” he shrugged hearing you laugh. “works for me, i’ll hold you tight so you don’t run off,” you teased, jude gasping. “listen the movie is already creepy as it is… especially that little scientist,” he shuddered.
after cleaning up and putting away any mess and cleaning the dishes, instead of traumatizing your tall boyfriend, you settled with his choice of movie. happy either way since you knew jude loved showing you his collection of favorite old films. another part of his love language towards you. you couldn’t count how many times, not just with movies, but items, people even, that meant so much to him.
“are you sleepy?” you whisper, jude nodding. “i am but i want to stay up because i want to spend all the time i can with you,” he yawned, kissing your head. “i can stay the night if that’s okay with you and your mom,” you suggested knowing jude would be immediately agreeing. “my mom adores you and you know she would rather have you stay than leave so late, especially me,” jude said, his thumb drawing circles on your hip.
“i’ll stay,” you smile, cuddling closer to jude as he looked down and smiled. not holding back from taking a picture and posting it, with an old school r&b song. soft launching you once again to the world. which you didn’t mind. “hey, why aren’t we shark boy and lava girl for trent’s party? or-” jude said abruptly.
“i’m leaving.”
“wait no!”
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⋆ DOUBLE SHOT ESPRESSO — YJW
╰—— “ say you can't sleep? baby, i know, that's that me espresso ” — where jungwon still remembers the way to your heart
🪽 𝖾𝗑-����𝖿! 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈�� x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g . 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌𝟤𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 1855 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 ! 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ CATALOGUE
๑´ ³`) ノ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!
ib — espresso by sabrina carpenter ♡ for @okwonyo ’s celestial ballet event!
“jay?”, you pause your typing on the desktop, groaning as you massage your temples. “can you grab my usual drink from the cafeteria?”
“double shot espresso”, a mellow voice floats to you from the cubicle to your left, “am i right?”
“yeah, you're righ—”, wait. this doesn't sound like park jongseong. his voice is more serious, and besides you never had to repeat your order for jay. then whose voice is this? it sounds so familiar, so close. almost as if you know the face behind it.
you push your heels against the cold office floor, propelling yourself backward in your swivel chair, rolling away from your cubicle. it's dull, the atmosphere inside the office. the central AC cranked to the coolest setting, contributing to the dim lighting to make you squirm on your seat. outside, the sky is overcast, heavy with the promise of rain.
the wall separating you from the unknown man's cubicle, is now visible. behind it you can only see the outline of his black shirt, sleeves rolled up, fingers pretending to type.
“uhm”, you clear your throat, now just behind him, “you new here?”
“new to the office,” he finally spoke again, this time turning around in his chair, only to give you a heart attack, “but definitely not new to you.”
yang fucking jungwon. this cheeky bastard. you wish you could punch that sly smirk out of his face. the way his arms are crossed together with his head held high, eyes glinting with a mischievous hint while he holds his smirk on his lips.
is he trying to challenge you? but the last time you saw him was 5 months ago, in a desperate cry of getting you back in front of your apartment doorstep, with a bouquet of roses and baby's breath he bought in a rush. you had a hard time shooing him away that night. but then again jungwon is a fishy player, always at the node of your suspicion.
he has you banging your head against the wall, internally of course, yet again after 6 whole months.
jungwon leans back in his chair, head resting back, that teasing smile never leaving. this nonchalant asshole. "new job, same floor. didn't expect to see me, did you?”
“what do you want, jungwon?”, you try to keep your cool, arms crossed with a bored expression.
“ouch!”, he places a hand over his heart, pretending to be in pain— all the while having a smile attached, “jungwon? where's won? wonnie, my love? can we not do that?” what a drama queen.
you furrow your brows, a suspicious look casting over your face, “are you stalking me now?”
jungwon chuckles, sitting up straight in his chair, “stalking? no, i just happened to get a job here. pure coincidence.”
you narrow your eyes, not buying it for a second. “really? pure coincidence?”
“okay, maybe i pulled a few strings,” he admits, raising his hands in mock surrender. “but can you blame me? i missed you.”
“seriously, get out”, you whisper-scoff, loud enough for him to hear and frown. pushing your heels against the floor again, you return to your cubicle.
you cannot believe this man right now, did he actually stalk you enough to know your workplace? is he that desperate? heck, you can't even remember why you broke up with him in the first place. not with that pretty face of his following you to your cubicle, on his own swivel chair. and oh you can already predict his whines and horrific shenanigans to impress you back.
not to say, you do enjoy his company. he's a charming devil, always knowing how to make you laugh even when you don't want to. but you refuse to let him think he can just waltz back into your life without any consequences.
jungwon rolls his chair up beside yours, the wheels squeaking slightly. “ever since we've broken up, i can't sleep y/n. you're there in my dreams.”
you let out a chortle, loud enough to echo back to you, as you turn your head to jungwon— still laughing sarcastically. “i know, that's me, espresso. it's my kinda effect.”
“c’mon babe, let me have a chance to prove myself—”
“...i need to check this paperwork”, you stand up abruptly, collecting the messy papers filled with sticky notes all in a bunch and hurrying to the desk at the corner of the office.
before even putting the paperwork down on the desk, you feel his presence again beside you. he is speed, didn't waste a second of his time right after you broke up to show up at your door with your favourite plush toy he won at the claw machine in 5 minutes paired with his horrible guitar skills. to be very honest, you enjoy jungwon's antics. maybe even love it, he is an incredible person to be around. but he just can't be your hype boy, and you crave hype in your life.
you sigh, rummaging through the paperwork.
“remember our dance nights?”, you gasp at his sudden proximity, his lips nearly grazing the tip of your ears, the strong smell of his perfume ghosting all over. he moved a tad bit closer, the soft outline of his abs pressing gently against your back, “or the karaoke ones? or our late night swimming session? when have i ever bored you out, baby?”, his voice drops to a whisper.
thank god the office was empty, you don't how you would've explained your flustered face. you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, let them fly around, yang jungwon's going to mess up anyway. find some absurd antic of his to give you the ick and then you're gonna shoo him away again.
no more yang jungwon, no more headache, no more drama.
but what is life without a little drama? you've given the poor guy a fair chase of 6 months. he loves to chase hard to get, you love to play hard to get. it's a simple equation really, a match made in heaven. you can't deny the void you felt in your heart all these months when jungwon was away too. you were eager, longing, almost manifesting for his touch, for him to come back in your life.
and the universe listened, so you shouldn't complain now.
“i've been thinking of you, every day, every night”, his voice becoming huskier, now standing just behind. his fingers threaten to close in your waist; he plays with the fabric of your shirt.
“isn't that sweet?”, you reply, unable to move a muscle— you're under his spell, or is he under yours?
“i guess so,” he scoffs, “everything about you is sweet.” his hands finally close in around your waist, chin resting on top of your shoulder.
god, why aren't there any people in this office! it's only giving yang jungwon more courage to pull you closer, until your back pressed against his broad chest. a wave of nostalgia, dangerous for both of yet more for him. he has missed you, your touch, your voice, your daily espresso. god knows how bad he waited for this, again.
feathery lips brushing against the tip of your ears, a shiver down your spine. are you in for it again?
“why now?” you ask, exasperation creeping into your voice. “why after all these months?”
he takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious, arms tightening around you. “because i’ve had time to think. time to realise how much i screwed up and how much i miss you. i know it won’t be easy, but i'm willing to do whatever it takes.”
you shake your head, feeling the weight of his words but unwilling to give in just yet. “jungwon, we broke up for a reason. we both needed space and time to figure things out.”
“i know,” he says softly, turning you around. “and i've used that time to work on myself. i’ve changed, love. let me show you.”
you look into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. but all you see is sincerity and determination. it’s the same look he had when you first fell for him.
a moment of bliss, before jungwon makes it even more euphoric. he pulls you in, in a long awaited kiss, lips desperately in search of the lost taste of espresso in yours. the bitter sweetness that he misses so hard. his hands grasp around your waist and pull you in closer, tongue running past your lips.
a bold move. all of this. a serious kiss with your ex on the first day of your new job? jungwon knows you like this type of bold.
“so..”, you pull away from the kiss, hands resting behind his neck, “...what now?”
“you still taste sweet,” jungwon lets out a breathy laugh, brushing his thumb against your lower lip, “just like i remember, like your double shot espresso.”
you can’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you and your cheesy lines, won. some things never change.”
“some things shouldn’t,” he retorts, his gaze softening. “like us.”
you open your mouth to respond, but the moment is interrupted by the sound of a familiar melody playing from his phone. jungwon grins, pulling back just enough to fish his phone out of his pocket.
“speaking of espresso,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes, “remember our dance nights?”
before you can protest, he’s already hit play, the catchy beat filling the otherwise quiet office. he holds out a hand, eyes twinkling with bliss. “may i have this dance?”
you glance around, ensuring the office is still empty, then take his hand with a resigned sigh. “you're impossible, jungwon. impresaing with dance steps now?”
he pulls you close, swaying to the music. “impossible to resist, you mean.”
you laugh despite yourself, letting him twirl you around the small space. jungwon’s dance moves are as ridiculous yet fabulous as ever, over-exaggerated and comically dramatic, but it’s exactly what you needed. he spins you out and back into his arms, dipping you low as the chorus hits.
“you always did love this song,” you say breathlessly as he pulls you back up.
“because it reminds me of you,” he replies, his expression softening. “strong, bold, unforgettable.”
your heart flutters at his words, and you find yourself leaning into him, the familiar comfort of his presence washing over you. maybe, just maybe, giving him another chance wouldn’t be the worst idea.
as the song ends, jungwon holds you close, his forehead resting against yours once more. “so, what now?”
you smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that you haven’t felt in months. “now, we take it one step at a time.”
“deal,” he agrees, his smile matching yours. “but can we start with that double shot espresso?”
“i'm more of a one shot espresso girl now.”
“one shot, double shot, triple shot, anything to get you back now”, jungwon presses a soft kiss against your lips.
espresso and jungwon will definitely be your favourites in the world, for a long long time.
a/n — omg i had so much fun writing this, i hope i brought out the best meaning of that song through this writing ^^ once again, happy 3k jiah pie,, love ya loads always mwah mwah ><
© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
📌 :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! nets. @/k-labels tags! @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha @shinrjj @nishislcve @luvlyhee
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I didnt expect to see Octavio in the Grandfest...and neither did 3, for that matter.
In my interp of the lore, Inkadia is aware of who he is. 3 and the platoon have been fighting for years with the Inkadian powers that be to recognize Octaria as a legitimate nation, for it to be held in equal regard.
That day finally came on the Grandfest. Or at least, the beginnings of it, anyway.
More on the two's convo below!
"Hm! |...Sir Octavio! Im...surprised to see you here.|"
"What. You think Octaria doesnt deserve to celebrate the biggest event in the continent alongside you squits?"
"|No! No! Im...|" they chuckle, a smile breaking across ther face. "|...glad to see that you made it!
But I dont remember arranging a pass for you...|"
"Aah. Well. Your old man pulled some strings. That, and the Inkadian and Splatlandian powers that be invited me themself."
Now 3s surprised. "|...Really?|"
"Mhm. I brought the dome-dwellers up here with me. Look around! Didnt you notice them in your matches?"
Are they dreaming?
They never noticed them at all. It wasnt even like there was much of a difference. For months there have been an increase of migrators and visitors. Allowed to turf. Allowed to stay. Allowed to...
Live in the sunshine.
They stagger, which made the Octarian king hold out a tentacle to steady them. "You alright, bucko?"
3 nods. "|A-a little overwhelmed, thats all.
All those patrols. All those deserters I helped to assimilate. All that struggle they had to go through to escape Octaria-
And now, its just...so...|"
"Easy?"
3 nods again, silently.
"Mmmm. I'll admit though, not everyone is keen on just letting people explore. Not everyone was keen on coming up here for this festival, either.
...too much, has happened for them to trust Inkadia again."
3 hangs their head low. He held their chin and made them look up again.
"...But you. You and your platoon of hooligans. Youve been changing that. You are Inkadians that went the extra mile in understanding us. Listening to us, respecting our decisions. Allowing us to rule our nation as we wished.
It means...a lot. More than you know.
To the point where even those who dont trust Inkadia are at least respecting it from a distance now."
The conversation is cut short by a couple of young Inkfish kids.
"Oaah...its the Octarian king!"
"Hes REAL!!!"
"Of course Im real, squirts! Who'dya think leads all the Octarians?"
"Yeah!!" squeaks another kid, who waddles closer. "Our king is so nice! He brought us up here to play!!"
"Woaah, really?"
"Mhm." He grunts. "Everyone deserves the sunshine."
The kids eyes all shine. Theyve had ex-Octarian friends who spoke much kinder words about the king. It was easy for them to accept the fact that hes just there, grinding wasabi peacefully. Talking to the Inkfish who wants merch. Having generally gruff but...daresay, gentle vibes.
Octavio grunts out a chuckle. "Are you enjoying the surface, little one?"
"VERY!! I made new friends!! The sun feels so warm, ah!! The music! The music!! Oh, so wonderful!!!"
3 smiles again...
"Oooh... wait, I can finally ask!!" squeaks one of the kids. "Mister king, sir! Did you really fight someone called Agent 3???"
3s smile becomes a nervous one. Octavio picks that up immediately.
"Why yes. Little hooligan, that one. Ack! Gave me a headache like nothing else!"
"Did they convince you? To be good now?"
"Mh. Its a little more complicated than that, kiddoes. But I..." he sighs. "...I guess, they did."
"Wooow!!"
"So cool...I wish I could meet them!!"
"Well..."
Octavio sees, from the corner of his eye, 3 making the subtlest movement of shaking their head.
"Its said...that theyre one of the top players in the leagues. If you look hard enough, youll find em."
The Octarian kid looks straight at 3, knowingly. The two other kids notice -- and look at the golden badge they hung around their neck.
"Oh! Oh! Youre a top player, right?"
"Do you think youve met them?"
Octavio is doing EVERYTHING he can to not laugh.
"|...Im not sure. Im not exactly sure what to look for.|"
"Ill help your search, all of you." Octavio grunts again. "What exactly to look for."
3 looks at him, eyebrow raised.
"Theyre ruthless on the field. Whether it be a real fight, or in the leagues. They think on their feet, move faster than most eyes can register.
But underneath that cold efficiency...
Is one of the gentlest, most understanding squids I know."
3s expression changed from nervous to...comfort? Theyre not sure what it is, but its warm.
"Watch for a player who goes out of their way to be nice to kids and beginners. One who's a good sport in the cutthroat top leagues. One who's willing to share their battle tech to anyone, something that most top players keep under wraps.
One who's motivated to help you become the best version of yourself.
No matter how long it takes."
Octavio sees 3s shoulders relax a bit. He smiles.
"Yeah, I may have fought them a lot, back in the day. But now, Id really rather think of them as a friend."
The kids start bickering about which player it could be. The Octarian kid already knew. Shes seen them before, after all. She points at them now.
"Hehee! Maybe you should try looking in a mirror, miss. That sounds a lot like you!"
The other kids stop bickering and take a closer look.
"Huh?? Them? Hmmm...now that you say it-"
"Shes right!!! Its right in front of us!! FOR3VRFRSH! Agent 3!!!"
Octavio grinds one of his wasabi sticks a little harsher on the table to get their attention. "Kids, kids! Remember what the legend says!"
That confirms it!! They shush each other, but are still sqealing quietly. They look up at 3 again, the new info putting the top player in a different light. They threw a glance at Octavio before squatting down to their level.
"Yes," they rasp. "Me and the king...were more friends now...than enemies. Time...passes. People...change.
Remember that, okay?"
"Yes miss! We'll remember!!"
They wink. "Good...now...Stay Forever Fresh!"
Octavio looks on, leaning slightly to whisper to the floating squid jerky next to him.
"You did good with this one, Cuttlefish."
He says nothing, like during this whole conversation. One thought was in his head.
He didnt do that. That...was all 3. They were better than he ever was. He only wished...
He didnt push them as hard as he did.
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HOO BOY THATS A DOOZY OF A READ. I didnt PLAN for the beginnings of the acceptance of Octaria to come this early but Nintendo gave me material!! A lot of this is still semi-rough so forgive me if the pacing is whack. I just had to make and write something!!
#splatoon#splatoon fanart#agent 3#captain 3#dj octavio#grand festival#grand fest splatoon#opal owl’s nest
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The skeletons hiding in their closet
Images from Pinterest. Each group consists of a total of 6 cards. Deck used : Tarot of the Velvet Moon.
Group 1 | page of wands, queen of cups, queen of swords, 8 of pentacles, Queen of pentacles, Judgement
This person used to be a player. They entertained a lot of relationships with no strings attached, especially work connections. This person enjoyed mixing business with pleasure. I'm picking up on someone having the habit of doing their work meetings in a bar or a club, having a couple drinks with their coworkers and flirting in the process. However, meeting you, this person realized that their behavior would be a problem eventually if they wanted your connection to grow and be fruitful. So this person is doing their very best to clean their past and bury it six feet deep. They're scared of karma coming to bite them in the ass. They did everything to clean their life and present to you the best version of themselves that they could : if this person used to drink a lot, they did everything in their power to get sober. If they used to get down with many people, they cut ties with them and made sure that these people would keep silent about their shady past. They likely bribed these people. That or they blocked them in every way they could so that they wouldn't be able to get to you and tell you about these skeletons. If they were in a connection before you met, even if it was just a situationship, they cleaned the slate by releasing this person. I'm picking up on someone using a lot of their energy to hide their tracks. They do not rest well knowing at any moment you could find out. Too bad for them, I spilled the tea. The only thing that can save this person and work in their favor is that their intentions are sincere and authentic. They did all of this because they knew you deserved better than that and they wanted to prove you that they could be serious and reliable. That they had more to give than just bread crumbs and empty promises. Your arrival in this person's life has changed the course of the game. I can't help but to laugh. Because I'm picking up on the expression "CHECKMATE". This person is surrendering to you and is less in control than they think.
Group 2 | Knight of cups, 10 of wands, the Chariot, knight of wands, ace of wands, Death, High priestess
This person tends to get scared when things get serious. They have good intentions, care deeply about people and wish to move forward but when they feel like things are getting too intimate they tend to self sabotage. In the past, this person was in love with someone else. The connection felt like a burden to them, yet they kept moving forward hoping that things would be better. Except that it didn't. The relationship was hidden. Either they or the other person was too ashamed of making it official. This relationship ended badly which lead to them being heartbroken. This is a part of their past that they would like to keep hidden because they're not proud about it. They feel like they've wronged someone badly and they can't forgive themselves for that. This is someone that can be very passionate and get attached to people very easily but if things get tough they have a hard time finding a way to release the tensions in the couple. This person is also very scared to get hurt. They don't want people to know that because it makes them vulnerable. They're also afraid of being a burden to other people. They also want to hide the fact that they can get pretty kinky because they used to be teased about it. They lack confidence and think that they can't be attractive to others. This is also someone that used to struggle with drepression. They're afraid that their darkness will rub on other people.
Group 3 | 2 of wands, 3 of swords, 7 of pentacles, king of swords, 7 of swords, 6 of swords, 2 of pentacles
For this group I am getting different scenarios so bear with me. Scenario A : this person left their family and friends for work or studies but the truth was that they wanted to run away from their home and cut ties with them. Their job/studies was the perfect opportunity to do that and the only way they could find to distance themselves from an authoritarian figure, like a dad or a grand father. Every day, they are struggling and when their family reaches out, they pretend that everything is okay. They may say things like "I want to go home but I can't because this thing still isn't working as I want, I would like to have more time". In reality they might not be as invested in their job as they say. They may purposefully bite their time. Scenario B : we're talking about a person that is already in a relationship. Things may not have been going well with their partner so they decided to momentarily break up and/or this person used their work as an excuse to get away from their partner. Which lead them to meeting you. This person is playing a double game. While they are getting to know you, trying to work on your connection and move on from their past, their "ex" partner is trying to come back into their life and make amends. Whatever the situation may be, this person is trying their best to keep this truth away from you because they know it could ruin your connection. Or at least, if we consider option A, they know it would completely change the image you have of them. In the case of option B, I'm not sure they are completely over their past partner. So they may be in a limbo state right now. Actually, in both cases, they're in a limbo state because they're torn between their past obligations and the present moment with you. Like maybe they swore their family they would come back home after a certain amount of time but every time they're pushing the deadline. Or maybe they swore their past partner that they would come back when they were ready and now their promises are coming back at them.
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absolution live 2017/2023
here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh
also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie
anyway, under the cut
I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.
Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.
Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.
Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.
Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.
Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.
Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.
Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable.
Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.
Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.
Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.
In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.
Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.
Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.
Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.
Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.
#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#hypnone gear talks#mountain ghoul#rain ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#ifrit ghoul#aether ghoul#phantom ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#aurora ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iii#zephyr ghoul
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I love your fluffy headcanons for Astarion! Will you please write headcanons self aware!Astarion? Like he knows he’s in the game and maybe he tries to interact with the player?
(Yes yes yes yes yes-)
👾 *•.-.•*-.• Come to Me*•.-.•*-.•🎮
Self Aware!Astarion x Player!reader
He could hear the narrator’s voice. The feminine voice playing from the beginning yet again. Gods do they really love him that much? He’s only a video game character.
But he wishes he was more.
He wanted to be with Tav, but not the character in front of him. The one who pulls the string on this puppet. The player.
He’s been breaking the fourth wall to look at them. Can’t they see? Well, maybe he has to do more. Can he do more? He sure hope so.
He makes his glances longer. He’s practically staring. Hearing the player mumble about some glitch made him pout a little as they restart. He then ended up at the beginning. The narrator giving him time to think of plan.
Astarion pushed Tav down and pointed the dagger at her throat. He thought on what to do. He lightly smirked at the idea.
“Shhh. Not a word. Let’s try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece, hmm? Well- this one’s neck.” Astarion then looks at the screen. He knew they were probably confused.
“Hello dear. Can’t get enough of me? I suppose I can’t blame you.” He lightly teased, walking towards where the screen would be.
“What is your real name?”
Ever since that day, Astarion learns how to connect himself to their world. He learned how to communicate, letting his crush type where options would be, being able to hear them, and then he finally found out how to see them.
The first time, he couldn’t believe it. Wow his beloved is so gorgeous. Almost as gorgeous as him! He really just says at them, observing and memorizing every imperfect perfections on them. Sometimes Astarion truly just stares for hours. When has he fallen so hard for someone?
Astarion also gives his lover details and secrets that the game won’t reveal. Going into so much detail just for his beloved on the other side of the screen.
Astarion asks his lover to be his by making a small place to confess. He asks, calling them “his little player.”
Sometimes he looks at the screen and pouts. He will just drop a, “I wish I was on the other side of screen with you.” Before going back to whatever is happening.
One time after saying that wish he placed his hand on the screen. When his lover placed theirs over his, he actually felt it. Let’s just say that he hasn’t shut up about it yet.
#fan fic writing#astarion headcanons#astarion fluff#astarion x reader#bg3 x reader#bg3 astarion#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3
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Chapter 43.9
I arrive at GeekCon both sweaty and with a vague sense of unease. The stifling heatwave has turned the city into a pressure cooker, and it feels foreboding, like something terrible is building and about to break free.
I’m greeted by my own face by the door, advertising the panel that I’m supposed to be on this morning. I never got comfortable seeing myself like this, I prefer it when they just use the logo or my masked promo pictures. At least today is the last time I’ll appear as Llama Man in any official capacity, and then…
Then I don’t know.
But there’ll be time to figure that out later, right now I’m about to see Julia again. I can’t believe it’s only been a year since we met, and I have no idea how she feels about me right now.
I spent most of the night in my hotel room tossing and turning, thinking about what I’ll say to her, but I still don’t have a plan. I just want to apologise for ending things so abruptly.
It really wasn’t my best work.
She said she just wanted to be with you. And then you dumped her.
I groan inwardly as I scan the faces of everyone I see. There’s no sign of her, but the cosplay competition isn’t until later, she may not have arrived yet.
I wonder if she’ll refuse to speak to me at all. I wouldn’t blame her, but she never seemed like the type to carry a grudge. I just want to see her and make sure she’s not too upset about how things ended, something I should have done months ago.
I need to make sure she doesn’t hate me. I can’t handle if she hates me.
I guess I’ll have to play it by ear, although Lee would tell me that’s not my strongest suit.
I leave my jacket in the wardrobe and linger a bit, fiddling with my VIP bracelet. The gallery’s air-conditioning is working overtime, and it helps a little with the heat but I still feel uneasy. My eyes are drawn to the bathroom door.
If this was a movie, Julia would come out of the bathroom right now, exactly like last time. Our eyes would meet. A beat, as the camera cut from her face to mine, both of us too surprised to speak. I would recover first, tell her that we can’t keep meeting like this, and her face would crack into a smile. Then she’d leap into my arms and I would kiss her like there were no tomorrow.
Get it together, Romeo. She’s not kissing you ever again, you’re going to be lucky if she even speaks to you. Focus. You’re at work.
At least I’m not in full costume this year, I would probably have died from heatstroke. And it would have made me feel silly trying to have a serious conversation with Julia.
I decide to take a quick tour of the convention floor before the panel starts.
Even though it’s still early in the day, there’s people everywhere. Some tabletop role-players are recording their podcast on location, kids are running around, and several people are dressed up despite the heat. I wish Julia had shown me pictures of the costume she was planning so I knew what to look for.
A woman with long, red hair makes me do a double take, but I know it isn’t Julia before she even turns around, the way she moves is wrong. I know every inch of Julia’s body and this isn’t it. Everything Julia is, the way she walks and talks and laughs is imprinted on my brain, and it feels like I should be able to locate her by telepathy, by following some sort of invisible string tying me to her.
“Uh, Mr. Romeo! Sorry, hello.”
“Oh, hey. Edmund, right?”
The young man beams, clearly pleased that I remember his name. His booth was next to mine last year, we talked about old movies. I wish I could introduce Julia to him, she would have loved to discuss Cow Plant Love with an expert.
“Wait, you do know him? I thought you were lying!” The teenage girl next to him sounds somewhere between impressed and angry.
“Yeah, why would I lie about that? Sorry, sir, this is my sister Liz, she’s a big fan of Llama Man.”
“Can I have your autograph? I collect them, I already got the Coolala guy and the Freezer Bunny lady this morning. Oh, and can you make it out to ‘Lizette’, with a Z, please?”
“Of course. That’s a very cool costume, Lizette with a Z.”
“I made it myself! It’s Michelle from Doherty’s Revenge, have you seen it? The one with the zombie gym teacher?”
“Oh? Haven’t heard of it, do you think I should watch it?”
“You have to, it’s so good! I used to think it was actually really scary but now I just think it’s funny. Me and Edmund watch a lot of like, retro movies with dad, we even watched the really old Llama Man movies once. I’m gonna tell my dad I met you, he won’t believe it!”
“I’m flattered. Thanks for the movie recommendation, I’ll make sure to check it out.” I hand her the autograph before waving goodbye to Edmund who mouths a silent thank you.
Retro.
I know everything seems ancient to a teenager, but the word tastes like dusty VHS tapes, like lava lamps and shag carpets, like mid-century kitchens. This is my demographic, I suppose, nostalgic dads and their excitable kids.
Julia is not in the panel crowd either, but I guess that would have been too much to hope for. I would probably have found her presence too distracting anyway.
I know one of the other panellists, Mei Zhang, the iconic voice of the Freezer Bunny for over fifteen years. We’ve met briefly at conventions and even on a few gigs, but never really got a chance to speak much.
The third panellist is a young man named Andy Okeke, who seems to be voicing a few Voidcritters as well as a bear-like creature I’ve never heard of. It’s his first time on a panel, but he’s already annoyingly good for his age, and I can imagine him having a pretty impressive career at the speed he’s going.
I answer the same questions I’ve answered a million times before and try to find some sort of comfort in the fact that it’s the last time. As much as I loved my job, it got repetitive after almost a decade. Maybe I should get that number for Sierra’s agent, try to get back on screen. Maybe I’ve grown too complacent, stagnant.
Finally, the questions dry up and the last people leave the room, and just like that, I’m free from my contract. It doesn’t feel like freedom, though, more like a free fall.
“Hey, Romeo, wait up.” Mei stops me by the doors.
“How are you doing? It must be so weird.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they ever retire Bunny.”
“You’ll still have others, won’t you?”
“I know, but I’m known for Freezer Bunny, not for… four or five Voidcritters. I can’t even keep track of their names, which is ironic since it’s all they ever say.”
I’m not sure how to respond so I just nod. I’m impatient to get to the cosplay competition, but I don’t want to be rude.
“Mei, it was great seeing you again, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.”
“Sure. Would you – would you want to grab coffee some time, though?”
Shit. Before Julia, I would have gladly followed Mei home tonight, maybe we’d even go on a couple of real dates before things fizzled out as they normally do. But right now, every muscle in my body is telling me that I have to go, to move, to be somewhere else.
“Sorry, I’m, uh. Maybe another time, I don’t…”
The giant poster of my face is judging my lame attempt at stringing together a sentence, and I’m painfully aware that the woman behind us has been sweeping the same spot for a minute now, pretending not to eavesdrop.
“I’m a big girl, Romeo. If you’re not interested, that’s fine.”
“Right. I am sorry, though, it’s not…” I mumble something politely incoherent and more or less flee the room.
Fuck. One year and I’ve completely lost my touch.
I hurry up the stairs, the competition must be just about to end. I can see through the doors before I even reach them, all of the contestants are on stage – and she’s not there.
I stand in front of the doors, frozen, arm still outstretched. This doesn’t make sense, she loves this, she told me about the costume she was planning, she should be here.
There’s no time to dwell on why I so desperately need to see her again, what I would even say to her, the only thing left is fear.
What if something has happened to her? Would I ever know? We’re not together anymore and we have no friends in common, no one who would think of me or assume I’d want to know if she got hurt or sick.
She could be dead. She could be dead and I would never know.
I’m vaguely aware that I’m spiralling but I can’t stop, I feel dizzy. The heat and the lights and the people, everything is too much and I can barely see.
Somehow my feet carry me outside, to the very same bench where we talked for hours on that first night. I try to breathe, deep breaths, but the air is too warm and feels thick.
My hands shake as I log into the anonymous account I made during a moment of weakness after she blocked me, and I pull up her social media in the hopes that she posted something recently, anything that can reassure me that she’s fine.
Relief floods through me when I see the timestamp on her latest updates. San Sequoia Aquarium, just a couple of hours ago. But the relief dissipates quickly as I scroll through the photos.
Nestled between fish and family pictures, there are two selfies with her friend Marten.
I stare at them, suddenly feeling numb.
Her eyes are shining like stars in the lights from the tanks. She’s smiling, and so is he. His arm is around her, possessively, and there’s a hint of triumph in his eyes that I don’t like.
He seems to be carrying her on his back in the other photo, and the thought of her legs wrapped around him awakens an urge to tear him away from her that is almost suffocating.
If they’re not already dating, it’s a matter of time. They would probably have gotten together a long time ago if I hadn’t been there. A petty part of me wonders if he was really being her friend or just biding his time, waiting for me to fumble, but that’s crazy. I barely know the guy. Actually, I don’t really know any of Julia’s friends, I just have a vague idea about their names and who they were to her.
I wasn’t a very good boyfriend, was I?
I told you it was better this way.
I’ve kept reminding myself that I didn’t make a mistake, and here’s proof at last. This was meant to be, they were meant to get together, I just happened to get in the way. He’s been a good friend to her, nice and considerate, while I only brought her chaos and pain.
I was so worried that Julia was wasting my time, but all along, I was the one wasting hers. She deserves better, I know this, but it still feels like I lost her all over again.
I put away the phone and take a deep breath of the scorching air. And then I reach for the tiny, secret corner of my heart where I was nursing my last hope of getting her back and stomp it out.
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old money | carlos sainz
Description: He falls in love with a crazy rich asian.
Pairing: carlos sainz/heiress!reader
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Carlos Sainz never felt nervous when he attended press conferences. He never felt nervous before a race - but he felt nervous meeting your family. He grew up in Spain, he's raised in a European way - and you always told him that the Asian way was different.
"Carlito, they'll love you." you comforted him while taking a casual sip of your champagne. He was surprised to enter the airport and find out that his first class seats were upgraded to business class. Courtesy of who your family was. "I don't know how to act around them." he buried his face in the plane provided pillow.
"Hey, we practiced this a thousand times." you added with a playful smile. Your family was going to love him. Yes, he was an outsider but he played a sport that they could actually boast - unlike your sister's boyfriend that was always on reserve. "I'm so nervous," he chuckled.
Carlossainz55: MAD🇪🇸 to SIN🇸🇬 ✈️
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ketchupmustard67: Ariana what r u doing here 😭
kelseyjaja: OMG YOUR IN SINGAPORE???? AAAAAAA
Carlos couldn't believe that you were this rich. He always assumed that money wasn't a problem with you - but he didn't realize that money will never be a problem to you. He tried to buy an apartment in Singapore a few years ago - but he turned it down after realizing how much it costed. After stepping inside your family's penthouse. He couldn't believe how much it costed.
"You're early," your mother smiled - wrapping you in a warm embrace. "Yes, I was under the impression that there's going to be a flight delay - but thank god that there wasn't one." you mumbled, breaking free from her vice-like grip. You leaned into Carlos' body. Placing a hand around his back while you pushed him closer to your mother.
"This is my boyfriend, Carlos." you greeted and he was quick to mumble strings of appreciation. He complimented the house - then your mother's outfit. He was getting all the brownie points.
He let out a sigh of relief when your mother welcomed him inside. He removed his shoes, thanking the maid when she handed him a clean pair of plastic slippers. "We bought this house shortly after Y/N went to college. She's the last one to leave the nest. I was happy because we could finally buy nice things." your mother took a jab at you.
"Feel at home, dinner will start soon." she smiled, leaving the both of you while she walked inside the kitchen.
Carlos was awe-struck.
He adored your mansion in Turks and Caicos. He adored your endless rants about how Bruce Willis used to own the island, but now he couldn't help but adore you. He couldn't help but believe that he was making the right choice - you were humble. He liked that.
"The entire apartment is wow," he whispered in your ears.
"Yep, mama got some help. My grandmother's sister-in-law is an interior designer - but I kinda wished that she asked for my help." you giggled, leaning deeper into his touch.
mysecretaccount55: he met mama's crusty musty dog.
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frederic.arnault: his name is oreo ! - mysecretaccount55: wow i didn't know that 🤣
cheskaarnault: Will be there soon. Please tell mama to wait for us. Sun is still out, dinner is at seven. - mysecretaccount55: nah y u starving me.
notcarlossainz55: Oreo bites 😂 - mysecretaccount55: he has no teeth
Your family was the black sheep of the old money community. You were the only family that seemed to be private and public at the same time. It all started when your older sister, Cheska, married that Arnault guy - it was all anyone could talk about. From Brunei to Palau - all they could talk about was how Frederic's family was the opposite of humble.
'The boy has money, but they're too showy with their wealth.'
'Money can't buy name.'
Your parents assumed that the last hurrah would come from your younger sister, who is currently engaged to a mid-tier basketball player. But they were wrong - because Carlos Sainz was about to enter the frame.
"You play for Ferrari, right?" Frederic inquired while the music faded in the background. "Yes, you were there last time right?" your boyfriend inquired, memorizing Max's complaints about some stuck-up rich dude. "Ahh, oui. It was fun." the man nodded.
"He's not even that kind of french." your younger sister whispers.
You couldn't help but giggle.
Oh, this was going to be eventful.
"That went well," you hummed - walking out of your parent's apartment with newfound joy. "Tiring but surprisingly well," he placed your hand in his pocket.
"I had fun." he smiled.
#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz#c55#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz x reader social media au#f1 social media au
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I would love to hear about your three AUs! (Entangled, Springlock and Ribbons Attached)
All of them have gorgeous designs!!!
tysm!!! honestly i wish i did a little more with the springlock designs but didnt know what more i could do xd let me try my best explaining these aus haha, feel free to ask for elaboration!
Entangled AU
Is about Jax being stuck in a dating simulator with the hostess being, Ringleader Gangle!
cos it rhymes with gangle :)
In this AU, Gangle is a AI whos aware shes not real. So she tries to not be too attached to whoever plays, its hard since shes programmed to love em' throughout them playing the game correctly, because if they win they wont play again
She used to miss/yearn for the player(s) return but fucked around with coding to get rid of this feeling by deleting some saved data, ensuring Gangle won't even remember them if they 'won' and left the game
How to win is basically romancing Gangle and confessing your love to her, allowing you to leave the game. Which is why Jax is stuck here because he can't/won't "win the game" (Theres no reason for this, hes just being a stubborn asshole)
Despite Jax not playing the 'dating' part of the simulator or earning her affection in the correct way, Gangle falls in love with Jax oddly enough. The reasons as to why will be explored in the future!
couple of notes!
* Within this AU it's just them! The others won't be in this AU xd but im willing to explore some designs of how they mightve looked like
* Shoutout to the person who thought this was a Balan Wonderworld AU because Gangle was totally based off Balan with Jax being based off NiGHTS
Ribbons Attached AU
Springlock AU
like 'strings attached' and jax being the puppeter of gangle *wave off hand* you get it
If you like the asshole aspect of Jax and want him to be worse while liking Ribbun this may be the AU for you!
In this AU! Jax is actually a dead person stuck haunting this game as the Ringleader, no i won't explained how he died and how hes in the game just listen to cabinet man by lemon demon
It's quite a simple AU though, Jax makes torturous adventures based off the others fear. Gangle's prevalent fear in this AU is claustrophobia.
His main goal is to make the cast abstract for a laugh and possibly to not feel lonely? Since if they did abstract, its not like they can leave.
It's why his favorite is Gangle! He'd hate for her to leave somehow.
couple of notes!
* All the cast has some sort of clown names, Gangle being Jingle because of her bells.
* I like to think each "Ringleader!Character" has their gimmick. With Caine having "all seeing eyes" I like to imagine Jax has many expendable and extendable hands/arms? not like a spider!! think of floating gloves/hands
cos... gangle has springs and.. jax is a dead guy whos trapped as a rabbit.... you can only understand if you know about fnaf
In this AU, it's also kinda simple. I've been bouncing between the idea if I should keep Gangle as a AI and Jax as a human or just make them both human or both AI but its basically: Jax is Caine and Gangle is Bubble
Its a bit blaaand at the moment but hopefully I can come up with some ideas for this one..
The cast includes: Pomni, Kafumo, Queenie, Ragatha, Zooble and Kinger :) thanks for reading!! and sorry for answering this late :c
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A little book rant! I love dual pov in romance books! I love them so so so much!!
And I especially love them when there's a closed off love interest who doesn't really emote much!
Because we go to character A (main character) and we see things from their perspective. They might do something stupid. They might be doing the most normal thing ever. They might be doing something very romantic. Heck they might be just breathing. And they look at character B and they're just standing there looking blankly, or looking grumpy, at most they might have a small smile.
AND THAN WE GET TO CHARACTER B POV!! AND THEY ARE JUST SCREAMING ON THE INSIDE!! LIKE THEY ARE GOING AKSKLDKSNSLDKNSKSPSNSKSOKS! They are in fact this close👌 to crying because of the feelings character A is making them feel.
I go feral over this!!
If I have to give some excamples
I would say one of the greatest moments in my existence was when I was reading Assistant To The Villain and Evie kissed Trystan AND THAN IMMEDIATELY we jumped to Trystan's pov! I almost cried ngl. I freaking screamed for 3 minutes straight (on the inside because I was in public). Honestly it was hilarious going to Evie's pov and she's all "Oh my god I would kill for him, I can't let him figure me out" and than we go to Trystan's and he's all "Crap I'd kill for her I can't let her figure me out".
Wes isn't the type of love interest I described but the extra chapters from Better Than The Movies that were from his pov (The party, Liz's proposal, Basketball Night and their road trip chapters) might have completed my entire life. Might have been the missing piece of my soul. Might have given me a new purpose for living. Might have rewired my brain. Just might have.
A Thousand Heartbeats by Kiera Cass made me experience all the emotions THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH THOSE FREAKING IDIOTS!!
*punching a wall* AARON! FUCKING! WARNER'S! POV! CHAPTERS!!!!
I'm reading the Shepherd King duology and book 2, Two Twisted Crowns has 3 pov but 2 of those are between the main character and her love interest in the first book so it counts (also this series is amazing please read it!!!)
I rescently read The Brightest Light of Sunshine by Lisina Coney, NA romance with an age gap, and it was so so cute and touching and when you read their povs you could tell they both were in love with each other from the begining but they were too stubborn to admit it to themselves! Again the love interest isn't really the type that I described but still they're idiots and he constantly fangirls over her so yeah.
Butcher and Blackbird gets a special mention because I love them! Idiots! Bafoons! Dumbasses in love! Both of them just go asjjskdjdd over each other tho so into the list it goes. God I'm eating this audiobook up like Rowan ate that beef niçoise (iykyk)!!!
Some very specific NA hockey player books and book series. I have needs.
I have to mention Defy The Night, I have to. I have yet to finish Defend The Dawn so shush don't tell me anything. Though I loved the dual pov there less about the romance and more when it came to presenting the current situation of the kingdom from both perspectives of the Royals and the Wilds. So it doesn't really fit with what this post is about but I just wanted to mention it because I really liked this book
And if I had to pick one book that I wish would have a dual pov...... Red White And Royal Blue. Even if Henry's inner monologue would have been a long string of "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKK I'M SO GAY I'M SO SO SO BLOODY GAY!!!!!". I'd pay good money for that actually
#book tropes#book rec#book recommendations#romance books#romantasy#dual pov#tropes#assistant to the villain#attv#better than the movies#bttm#wes bennett#a thousand heartbeats#kiera cass#shatter me#shatter me series#aaron warner#shepherd king#one dark window#two twisted crowns#the brightest light of sunshine#butcher and blackbird#defy the night#defend the dawn#red white and royal blue#rwarb#bookblr#book tumblr
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