#mans got talent and i will talk about him given the chance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 4 months ago

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Worth The Wait ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 3.3K

GENRE: established relationships, old friends to lovers, soft, sweet, cute, yoongi having a crush, dancer reader, reunited, kiss, soft, sweet

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

a/n: i hope i did this right for you? I lost the original screenshot and im so scared this is all wrong <3 I did try my hardest with it so I hope it comes across that way. This was for the "american" yoongi song request.

You were a talented dancer on BTS's American tour, every time they came to the US you were on the team first of who they wanted on stage. It was something that made you tingle every time you got the call that you were asked to come back for them. After working with them for the first year you'd gotten pretty close with Jimin and Hoseok. You figured it was because the three of you were naturally born dancers but there was nothing more there than friendship between you.

However, what you didn't realize was that over the years of working closely with each of the boys, Yoongi was harbouring a crush on you and it was getting closer and closer to the end of the tour and he could feel his chance with you slipping away before his very eyes.

Yoongi had sat quietly in the back of the rehearsal studio, watching as you and Jimin executed your routine with synchronized grace. The two of you had been working on the routine for filter which only made Yoongi feel a little more jealous at the thought of Jimin having his hands all over you.

You were dazzling under the dim lights, every move captivating him in ways he couldn’t explain, his heart raced with every move of your body, his palms sweaty as he imagined himself being the one to dance with you instead of Jimin. He sighed deeply, realizing he had it bad and that there was no way out of this for him, not without confessing at least. But how could he even do that?

There was the chance you'd shoot him down or even laugh in his face and then you'd never want to work with them again. He wasn't going to risk you losing the gig you loved because he found himself falling for you.

"You should say something," Hoseok whispered as he dropped down beside Yoongi, Yoongi quickly tore his gaze away from you and acted as though he had no idea what Hoseok was talking about.

"We all see it, Hyung," Hoseok smirked, Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the younger man and shook his head trying to play dumb.

"See what?" He mumbled a little as you finished your routine with Jimin and he cursed himself for not watching you smile at the end. Your smile at the end of every dance was the largest and he'd give anything to see it every single second of the day if he could. There was something about it that just made his heart race and his skin clammy.

"The way You watch her," Hoseok was at least trying to keep his voice down since there was a chance you'd be able to hear him if you were close enough.

"You make me sound like a freak," Yoongi grumbles, running his hands through his hair. Did he really watch you that much? Did you even notice him the way that he noticed you?

God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever gotten like this over a girl but it must have been when he was in school.

"No, but we all notice the way you watch her. How you're always there in case she's coming to practice. You didn't even have to be here today," Hoseok chuckled softly and Yoongi felt his skin heating up. It was true, he didn't need to be here for today's practice but he'd thrown in the excuse that he wanted to come for one practice before tomorrow.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow for stage practice," You called out, throwing the boys a giant smile, you glanced in Yoongi's direction and waved. Your smile shifted from the bright one you'd given the rest of the boys to a small shy one for Yoongi and he felt his skin heating up more as he waved goodbye.

Jimin, ever perceptive, noticed and rushed straight over to Yoongi and smirked at him.

"Don't-"

"You’ve been staring at Y/N a lot lately, hyung," Jimin said as he looked at him, Yoongi's cheeks were now a bright red colour as he shook his head,

"I was just telling him this," Hoseok laughs softly, earning a glare from Yoongi,

"What? No, I was just… watching the choreography." Jimin laughed, taking a seat beside him as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and shook his head.

"You’ve been watching her more than the choreography." Yoongi paused, knowing Jimin wasn’t wrong and that he'd been caught by not just Hoseok but by Jimin as well. He had developed feelings for you over the past few months, and it had become harder to keep them to himself. Harder to stop himself from watching you or being near you when his body cried out to be close to you every single second of the day,

"Okay, maybe I have a bit of a crush," Yoongi muttered to them both before they exchanged grins,

"A bit? Hyung, you barely even watch our rehearsals anymore unless she's involved." Jimin laughed softly at him, earning an eye roll from Yoongi but a small smile tugged on his lips.

"I don’t know what to do about it though. She’s close to you and Hoseok, and I don’t want to mess anything up. What if I ask her out and she never works with us again? I don't want to take her dream away from her..." He trailed off as the boys looked at him.

Jimin looks at him. It was something that he worried about as well knowing his friend had a crush on someone they worked so closely with but if he didn't try he wouldn't know.

"You like her a lot, right?" He asked as Yoongi nodded his head. He might even love you but he wasn't going to say that to anybody else just yet.

"Y/N’s great, and honestly, I think you should just go for it. Why don’t you invite her to be part of the team permanently? Keep her on tour...See where things could go from there." Jimin shrugged. It wasn't completely unheard of, people had been asked to follow them on tour before.

"As a dancer, you mean?" Yoongi looked at him and Jimin smirked,

"Well, maybe more than just that." Jimin nudged him a little.

"But invite her...See what she says and see what happens along the way?" Hoseok told him this time making Yoongi bite his lip as he considered it.

He knew that being with you would require more than just asking you to stay and go on another tour with them. The two of you came from different worlds—different cultures, and he wasn’t sure if you would even be interested in being with someone like him in the long run but it was always worth a shot. Right?

After the show the next night Yoongi ran over to you, he was already high from his adrenaline rush from the stage and he didn't want to lose the courage he found himself swimming in right now.

"Y/N, can we talk for a minute?" You looked up, surprised but curious, it wasn't like Yoongi to seek you out on his own after a show. Usually, he would drag one of the others along with him, or so you'd noticed. You nodded at him as you drank from your water bottle trying to catch your breath from the dance you'd just finished.

"Sure, what’s up?" Yoongi hesitated for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. The adrenaline he'd just had was now gone as he stared at you, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't used to being so vulnerable, but something about you made him want to take the leap.

"I was wondering… once this leg of the tour is over, would you consider staying on with us? I mean, joining us for the rest of the tour? I-In Korea and everywhere...else" You blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. You'd always loved the idea of travelling the world and getting to do what you loved while you did it,

"You mean as a dancer? Wow, I’d love that. But… why are you asking me personally? I thought Jimin or the managers would handle that kind of thing." Yoongi cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling more anxious than he was before.

"It’s not just about dance. I want you to stay… because I like you. More than just as part of the team." The silence that followed made his heart race, did he freak you out? What if you just started to laugh in his face? You were quiet, processing his words as you stared at him.

The truth was, you'd had a crush on Yoongi for the longest time as well but you'd seen first-hand what this life did to people and how people in your position handled relationships. It wasn't something that could easily happen.

"Yoongi… I didn’t see this coming, honestly. You’ve always been so quiet around me. But there’s something you should know." You didn't want him to feel alone in the way he felt but you also didn't want him to think you were just going to rush into something with him. Things like these take time. He looked at you, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I like you too, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. We’re from such different cultures, and that could be tricky. I’ve seen what being in the spotlight does to relationships, and with you going to the military soon…" You trailed off a little. You knew as soon as this tour was finished he was going to be gone for two years. Yoongi’s heart sank at the mention of his upcoming enlistment, but he nodded, understanding your hesitation.

"I get it. You’re right. But I still want to try...If you're willing to..." You felt your heart melt at how unsure he seemed and you smiled softly, your expression full of warmth. You stepped closer to him, your hand brushing his.

"How about this—we give it time? I join you guys on tour...We hang out more, get to know each other and Once you finish your military service, we can see where we’re both at. I don’t want to rush anything and risk hurting you or myself." Yoongi felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t a rejection, but rather a promise of something more when the time was right.

"That sounds… fair. But I’ll hold you to that, Y/N." You smirk at him as you nod your head.

"Have management talk with my manager and I'll join you on tour...But I mean it, it's just hanging out...just friends for now. Okay?" You gave Yoongi a pointed look as he blushed a little more, nodding his head before practically racing to tell the boys the good news.

The rest of the tour continued smoothly, and your connection to one another only grew stronger. The two of you found each other spending almost every single night together, even on the nights Yoongi was working you'd found yourself in his hotel room while he worked on his laptop and you relaxed on the sofa. Talking all night long. Going out to dinner every now and again.

The two of you claimed it was hanging out as friends but anyone could see it was much more than that. The closeness you shared was hard to deny. he laughed at all your jokes, you laughed at all of his. He made you feel as though you were the only woman in the whole world and you were pretty sure if he kept it up you were going to fall more in love with him than you already were.

Because you knew that's what you were. In love. But you weren't ready to admit it to him just yet, not when you knew he was going to be leaving for two years with hardly any contact with you. Though, he had promised you he was going to be writing you letters once a month so he could keep you up to date on everything he was going to be doing.

"I’m going to miss this—the adrenaline, the excitement of the stage. But I think I’ll miss you more." You admitted on the last night. The two of you were sitting in his hotel room having the biggest burger you could order off of the room service menu. In Yoongi's words, he told you to "go big or go home" deciding he wanted to spend his last night having trashy food, trashy movies and being close to you,

"I’ll miss you too. But knowing you’ll be here when I get back… it makes it easier." His hand reached out to touch yours and you felt your heart racing at the same time as it breaking.

You hadn't expected to fall so hard and so quickly for him and yet now you found yourself wanting to keep him close to you.

"You promise you'll write?" You hated that you sounded so vulnerable as you asked him this. He didn't owe you anything, hell, he could just forget all about you while he was away if he wanted to but you craved his connection with you.

"I promise, Yn." He whispered, hearing how unsure you sounded. His fingers ran along your knuckles softly as the soft tapping on the door let you know your ride was there.

"I have to go," You look at him as you bite your lip a little. All day you'd been debating with yourself about if you should kiss him or not but you were through waiting.

You leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, your heart practically leaping into his hands and waiting for him to accept it. It was sweet, tender, and full of promise.

"I’ll be waiting for you, Min Yoongi. And when you come back, I expect another one of these." You whispered against his lips, your foreheads resting against one another as the tapping on the door grew louder, signalling the other person's impatience for you. Yoongi chuckled softly, his heart full despite the bittersweet goodbye looming over them.

"Deal." He whispers as you slowly get up, dragging your bags to the door and giving him a sad wave goodbye.

It had been 21 months. Almost 639 days since Yoongi had been in service and as promised he had written you a letter once a month and had sent you a package on your birthday. Though you had done the same for him, sending him his favourite snacks from your village so he could get a taste of you while he was away. But today was the day.

You were finally going to see each other after being away and you couldn't decide if you were anxious about seeing him again or if you were so excited your body took it as a sign of anxiety.

The air was chilly despite the warmth of the early spring afternoon. The crowd outside the base was thick with families, friends, and loved ones, all eagerly awaiting the return of their soldiers. You stood among them, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shallow bursts as your eyes scanned the sea of faces.

The anticipation was almost unbearable—two long years had passed since you had seen Yoongi in person, and now, in this very moment, he was somewhere among the crowd.

But you couldn’t find him.

You moved through the crowd, your chest constricting with every second that passed. What if you missed him? What if he had left before you could even catch a glimpse? Anxiety crept in, and you felt the weight of the past two years settle heavily on your shoulders. You'd promised yourself that you were going to be patient, that this moment would be worth the wait, but the fear of not seeing him right away gnawed at you.

You pushed your way through more people, your hands trembling slightly as you clutched the edges of your jacket, well, his jacket. He'd sent you one so you could wear it and smell him, be close to him kind of. You could feel tears threatening to spill over as you continued to look through the crowd unable to find the man you loved.

Just when you were about to give up hope, you heard a familiar voice—low, smooth, and full of warmth.

"Looking for someone?" You whipped around, your breath catching in your throat. There he was. Standing just a few feet away, dressed in his military uniform, looking a little older, a little sharper, but still unmistakably him. You drank in his appearance, unable to get enough of him as you whimpered a little.

Yoongi’s eyes softened when they met yours, and in that moment, the world around them seemed to blur into nothing. This was everything he'd been dreaming about for the last few months of his service, and nothing could have prepared him for it. You felt the tears welling up again, but this time they weren’t from anxiety—they were from sheer relief and joy.

"You… I couldn’t find you. I thought—" You choked out a laugh but before you could finish your sentence, Yoongi closed the distance between them in just a few steps. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, pulling you into a tight embrace. You let out a small gasp as he spun you around, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. All you could focus on was the feeling of Yoongi’s arms around your body, solid and real. When he set you down gently, he didn’t let you go. Instead, he tilted his head down, his eyes gleaming with the warmth you had missed so much.

"I told you I’d return that kiss." But before you could respond, he kissed you deeply, his lips soft but firm against yours. The kiss was nothing like the sweet, tentative one you had shared before he left. This one was filled with the weight of two years’ worth of longing, of promises kept and the joy of being together again.

You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he held you close, the kiss lasting long enough to make you dizzy but in the best possible way. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.

"You did. And it was worth the wait." You giggled a little as he linked his hand with yours, refusing to let you go for even a second, the two of you had been apart for two years, there was no way he was letting you go anytime soon.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I got a visa for six months," You smirked at him and Yoongi's eyes practically bulged out of his head at you.

"Six months?" He was already trying to think of everything he could fit into those six months with you. He had some time off now he was out of his service but he wasn't exactly sure how long that was going to be. Almost as if you could see the clogs turning in his mind you smirk at him,

"It gives me time with you, I do have a job to do while I'm here though, I'm hoping my contract will be renewed at the end of the six months though." You smirk at him as he looked at you,

"Oh?" A giant grin began to form on his face at the thought of keeping you longer than he had planned.

"I'm dancing with le Sserafim," By now his heart was racing as he realised just how close the two of you were going to be working together and he kissed you deeply, groaning against you as you giggled against his lips.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagine

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yamujiburo · 11 months ago

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I get the feeling that Ash gets his pokemon trainer talent from his mother (making his father even more of a deadbeat failure in the main series timeline)- but Delia never really had a chance to figure out and use this talent.

This is more or less canon! The novel talks about how badly she wanted to be a trainer but her mother didn’t let her when she was 10. In the show, there’s a couple instances where she battles (really well) and Ash’s friends comment that “that’s where Ash got it from”

“Hanako herself loved Pokémon and wished she could have become a trainer too.

If she didn't have to take over Masara House as the only daughter of her family, Hanako would have ignored any opposition from her mother and left home to become a Pokémon Trainer when she was ten, just like Satoshi.

When becoming a Pokémon Trainer, it's always better to start young.

But it's not too late to start as a teenager.

If there was anyone else who could take over Masara House, Hanako would have left it to them and left town.

She hadn't given up yet.

However...

When she was 18... While Hanako's mother was still alive.

There was a young man hoping to become a Pokémon Trainer who stayed at Masara House and she fell in love. The relationship escalated quickly and in practically the blink of the eye they were married.

And then in another blink of the eye, the young man left town, never to return again.

And in yet another blink of the eye, her mother fell ill and passed away, leaving her with only Masara House and the newborn Satoshi.

If you were to ask her if she still loved that young man... Satoshi's father... her answer would be a flat “no”.

After leaving a woman like Hanako alone for over ten years, she wouldn't even get mad at him if he returned, she'd simply ignore him outright.

Up until the day Satoshi left home on a journey to become a Pokémon Trainer, Hanako had hung in there all by herself.

It's only natural... Hanako thought to herself.

Satoshi was her beloved child. She'd take care of him until the day he left. It was her responsibility.

Hanako had decided to continue doing her best on her own... But in the morning, Satoshi would finally be leaving.

She was sad to see Satoshi leave home, yet also somewhat excited.

... When the morning comes, I'll be free. I'm still in my twenties... It's a bit too late to become a Pokémon Trainer, but there's lots of things I could do.

Hanako briefly reconsidered the hundreds of proposals she'd rejected... Ahaha... I'd rather not... Lalala.

Hanako felt like a student about to start a summer vacation without any homework.

She then came to her senses.

Satoshi isn't leaving until the morning. She had to keep being his mother up until then.

Hanako nodded to herself and said “yeah”.”

#ask yam #pocket monsters the animation

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sexydoffyman · 9 months ago

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Weird request but how would TF141+König and Alejandro react to meeting an orphan around 15 years of age who's like extremely talented in engineering, mathematics and physics, like they could build a rocket if they had the materials ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It can be HC, whatever you want! I was thinking maybe said orphan got in trouble with the government for unknowingly building some sort of weapon, maybe it was stolen? Twist that however you wish.

Just ignore this ask if you wanna <3

A KID?

genre: action

characters: König, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick

A/n: expect a lot more mistakes. Also thinking this needs a second part.

It’s been 6 years now since the war began. You were left stranded. All by yourself. Left on your own by everyone. Living was hard, but you pulled through. You learned how to do a lot of shit since you were there only with yourself for some time. Building stuff. That was your biggest interest.

You were constantly making things. New weapons mostly. You were always moving, never staying in one place for too long. You got brutal throughout the years you were alone. You took the uniform of a dead soldier. To blend in. You were mistaken for a recruit and pulled inside a helicopter by a military dude.

The military was a great provider of food and healthcare. So you just went along with everything they threw at you. Your knowledge of building shit helped out a lot. And even when some dude figured out you were a kid he let you stay.

The same dude put you in a task force with a man he trusted. You were cautious of everyone in there, but at least you had some people who you could trust a bit.

You picked up how things work from the years of pretending to be a soldier. Pretending to be an adult was getting easier and the task force you were assigned to found a place in your heart.

“There’s gotta be a way.” You finally snapped out of thinking about life before the war. You thought that the military would be a great cover. But now all your hope of making it out alive hit zero. You were stuck and with gas slowly filling the room that you and the others were in you knew your chances of survival were low.

You sat in the corner of the room. You had given up a few minutes ago already. The others were still trying to figure something out.

Suddently you felt something inside of you snap. You were not gonna die today. It must’ve been the panicking of the rough men infront of you that made you have that feeling. You started to search for a solution.

You found a small vent. It was too small to fit a grown man in, but you were not a grown man. You took off your gear and crawled into the vent unnoticed by your team.

You finally got to use the skills you gained. You crawled through the vent and dropped down from the ceiling right on the other side of a door that the rest of your team was trying to open. You managed to get inside some kind of an electrical system. You cut some wires and reconnected some other ones. The door opened with a space in between the doors just a centimeter big.

Grabbing a metal piece from the electrical you prayed the door open. You were met with the looks of your crew. You looked down and put your hand above your forehead to block your face. By now all of them realized that you weren't of age.

You ran into the room to grab your gear while your team gave each other a disgusted glance. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” you said as you walked away from the room. Price grabbed you by the shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with your mask on now.

“How old are you?” he was looking at you worriedly while he said that. You didn’t know what to answer and so after a few stutters you answered “Classified” This only made them feel more curious.

It has been days since that mission and nobody brought up the fact that you were a kid. You did notice that Price stopped shouting orders at you and started just saying them in a normal calm tone. Soap was making more small talk with you than usual. Ghost was staying closer to you, knowing you might not be able to fend off an enemy. Gaz was making sure to double-check your gear.

When you teamed up with Mexican special forces and met Alejandro you were given tasks that you’d be on with multiple people.

When you were stranded from the team, finding your way to a spot they could locate you at, you met another dude. Austrian and huge. Big dude. He was your enemy, but it didn’t take him long to find out that an adult dude would have a little more strength than you did. He forced your mask off and found out that you were in fact a kid.

Instead of killing you, he spared you. Helping you locate your tram instead of them having to look for you.

Would you survive the next missions? That you don’t know. But you do know that you don’t have to worry about pretending to be an adult.

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blakeswritingimagines · 7 months ago

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Talk Is Cheap, So Show Me

Summary: Aegon is a pathetic fanboy over you - the cosplayer who's got his eye.

Word count: 5.1k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Aegon, the eldest of the wealthy and powerful Targaryen family. He was a handsome young man, with wavy platinum blonde hair and striking lavender eyes. Despite his spoiled privilege and high status, Aegon found solace in gaming. He spent hours playing various video games and role-playing games online, immersing himself in fantastical worlds. But one particular interest caught his attention - cosplay. He loved scrolling through pictures and videos of beautiful women dressed up as his favorite characters, admiring their creativity and dedication to the craft. It became an obsession for him. You were a cosplayer, spending hours crafting your costumes and perfecting your makeup. Although you came from a humble background, you had always had a fascination for fantasy and fiction, which led you to the world of cosplay. You took great pride in your work and were known in the cosplay community for your intricate and accurate costumes. One day, while sorting through your cosplay photos online, you noticed a name continuously popping up in the comments - Aegon.

Aegon had been stalking your social media accounts for weeks now, unable to resist the allure of your gorgeous cosplays. His heart pounded every time he saw a new post or comment from you, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement. He knew it was wrong, given that you were both from very different backgrounds, but he couldn't deny his growing attraction towards you. One night, after another long session of gaming, he decided to take a chance. He sent you a private message on one of the popular social networking sites. As you were scrolling through your messages, you saw a notification from Aegon. Your eyes widened slightly as you clicked on the message, feeling a mixture of curiosity and surprise. You had noticed his comments before but never paid much attention to them. Now, as you read his words, you felt a flutter in your chest. ~Absolutely gorgeous, I've never seen a more perfect cosplay of that character. You nailed it.~ You hesitated for a moment. Should you reply to him? You weren't sure what his intentions were, but there was something about his message that intrigued you. Aegon watched eagerly as you opened his message. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response. He felt a rush of relief mixed with anticipation by having finally said something.

He quickly typed out another reply, trying to sound casual yet flirty. ~You must have put so much effort into making that costume. I'm impressed!~ He hit send and then immediately regretted sounding too nice. He didn't want to scare you off by being too forward, but at the same time, he wanted to make sure you knew how much he appreciated your work. You smiled at Aegon's response. His words were sincere, and you could tell he genuinely appreciated your work. You couldn't help but feel a little flutter of excitement in your chest. Before responding, you took a moment to think. You didn't want to come off as too eager, but you also wanted to let him know that you were interested in continuing the conversation. After taking a deep breath, you typed out a response. ~Thank you! It means a lot coming from someone who appreciates cosplay. It did take hours to make, but it was worth it in the end.~ Aegon's heart skipped a beat when he received your response. He hadn't expected you to write back so soon, let alone with such a warm and friendly tone. He felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, fueling his fingers as they danced across the keyboard.

~I can only imagine how much time and effort goes into creating these masterpieces. I wish I had your talent!~ He hit send, hoping that his compliment wouldn't come off as insincere. He had always admired people who were passionate about their crafts, especially when it came to cosplay. You were certainly one of those individuals, and he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You smiled as you read Aegon's message. He seemed genuine in his praise, and you appreciated his kindness. You had to admit, it was nice to have someone appreciate your work for what it was even though you couldn't tell he had practically been drooling each time you posted a new photo. ~Talent only gets you so far. It's the passion and dedication that really make the difference. I've spent hours and hours practicing and experimenting to get to where I am now.~ You replied, feeling a sense of pride in your accomplishments.

Aegon read your response and felt a surge of admiration for you. The way you talked about your passion made him realize just how much he underestimated cosplayers like you. They weren't just dressing up; they were artists in their own right. ~That's amazing! It's clear that you love what you do, and it shows in your work. I bet you're already thinking about your next project…~ He wrote back, trying to keep things light-hearted while still showing his appreciation for your dedication. He couldn't wait to see what you would create next and kept quiet that he'd love to see more. You chuckled as you read Aegon's message. You were used to people making assumptions about cosplayers being shallow and pretentious, so it was refreshing to see someone who understood the passion and dedication behind it all. ~Actually, I do have a few ideas in mind for my next project. I always have several on the back burner. But I won't give too much away yet, you'll just have to wait and see.~ You typed back, teasing him gently.

Aegon laughed softly as he read your message. Your playful banter was contagious, and he found himself enjoying the conversation more than he thought he would. He liked how you kept things interesting and exciting, not giving anything away too easily. ~Oh, is that so? Well, I suppose I'll just have to wait in anticipation then. Don't keep me waiting too long though!~ He wrote back, matching your playful tone. He was starting to feel a connection with you, something he hadn't experienced with many others due to how stuffy, boring, and pretentious they were in his day-to-day life. Maybe this was the start of something special.

You found yourself thinking about Aegon more and more as the weeks went by. Your online conversations had become a regular part of your life, and you looked forward to seeing his name pop up in your notifications. You had kept things playful and casual, both of you enjoying the flirting and banter. But there was something more there, a connection that neither of you could deny. One night, after a particularly long conversation, you found yourself lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about Aegon. You wondered what he was doing at that moment, whether he was thinking about you too. Aegon couldn't stop thinking about you either. Every time he got home from partying, he checked his phone to see if you'd messaged him. Even when he tried to focus on other things, like playing games or watching TV, his mind always drifted back to you. There was something about you that drew him in, and he found himself wondering what kind of person you were outside of the online world. As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling just like you, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was building between you two. He was scared, yes, but also excited. What would happen if he crossed that line and asked you out? Would you say yes? Or would he ruin everything by overstepping his bounds?

He wanted to meet you in person, to see if the chemistry between you was as strong as it was online. One evening, after another engaging chat with you, Aegon found himself looking at your profile pictures again. He couldn't help but admire your beauty and the passion you put into your cosplays. He knew he had to take the next step, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. You rolled over onto your side, staring at the phone on your bedside table. Your conversation with Aegon had ended a few hours ago, but you couldn't get him out of your mind. You closed your eyes, imagining what he might be like in person. Was he just as charming and engaging as he was online? Or was there something different about him that you hadn't been able to glean from the conversations so far? Aegon tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position in his bed. His mind was racing, filled with thoughts of you. He couldn't understand why he was so drawn to you. Sure, you were beautiful, but there were plenty of beautiful women out there. So what was it about you that made him crave more? He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen before he decided to type out a message. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he needed to hear your voice. To know that you were thinking about him too.

Your eyes abruptly opened as you heard the notification sound from your phone. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should even check it or not. But you couldn't resist the temptation. You reached for your phone and unlocked it, your heart racing as you saw the notification icon on the screen. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw that it was a message from Aegon. You quickly swiped open the message, your fingers shaking slightly as you began to read his words. Aegon stared at the message he had just sent, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been so nervous about a simple text before. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he hoped that whatever happened next would be worth it. ~I hope you're still awake,~ he typed, adding a winking emoji at the end for good measure. He pressed send, hoping against hope that you would respond.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read Aegon's message. You couldn't help but chuckle at the winking emoji, finding it both cute and endearing. You quickly typed out her reply, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. ~What makes you think I would be sleeping at this late hour?~ You teased, adding a blushing emoji for good measure. Aegon let out a low whistle as he read your message. That damn blushing emoji did things to him. He could almost imagine how flustered you would act, and it made him want to reach out and touch you. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed out his response, eager to keep the conversation going. ~Well, I guess I'm just lucky then. You're wide awake and ready to chat.~ He wrote, adding another winking emoji because he couldn't resist. He hit send, grinning to himself as he waited for your response. You chuckled again as you read Aegon's response. He really was a smooth talker, and you couldn't deny the effect he was having on you. But you weren't going to let him rile you up too much. Not yet, anyway. ~Lucky indeed. But I have a feeling you were hoping I would still be awake,~ You typed back, adding a cheeky smirk emoji. ~What's on your mind so late at night?~

Aegon smiled as he read your message. You were definitely keeping things interesting, and he found himself looking forward to these nightly chats more and more. ~You're right. I was hoping you'd still be awake. Can't deny that now, can we?~ He wrote back, adding a laughing emoji to lighten the mood. As for what was on his mind… well, he wasn't quite ready to share that just yet. But he was getting close. You chuckled again, feeling your cheeks flush slightly at Aegon's words. You were enjoying this little game you both were playing, the flirty banter and teasing back-and-forth. It was exhilarating, and it made you feel alive. ~I knew it. You just can't get enough of me, can you?~ You teased, adding a tongue-sticking-out emoji for good measure. ~But you didn't answer my question. What's keeping you up late at night, hm?~ Aegon laughed at your comment, shaking his head slightly as he read your message. You certainly knew how to keep things light and fun, which was exactly what he needed right now. ~Oh, you know… Just thinking about you,~ he wrote back, adding a winky face to emphasize his point. He hit send and laid back in his bed, a satisfied smile on his face. He couldn't wait to see what you would say next.

You read Aegon's message and almost choked on your own saliva. You hadn't expected him to be so bold, but you definitely weren't complaining. The thought of him lying in bed, thinking about you, sent a shiver down your spine. ~Oh really? And what kind of thoughts might those be?~ You typed back, your fingers trembling slightly as you hit send. You were suddenly feeling a little flustered, but you tried your best to play it cool. Aegon's pulse quickened as he read your message. He couldn't believe how daring you were being, pushing him to reveal more. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart before he replied. ~Thinking about how pretty you are,~ he started, adding a blush emoji just to show that he meant it. Then, without missing a beat, he added, ~And wondering what you look like under all those clothes you wear during our late-night conversations.~ Your eyes widened as you read Aegon's message. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. You certainly hadn't been expecting such a direct response, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the tension of it all. ~Are you trying to get me flustered? Because it's working,~ You typed back, adding a flushed face emoji for good measure. ~And if you're curious, why don't you use your imagination? I'm sure you've got quite a vivid one…~

Aegon's grin grew wider as he read your message. You were definitely playing along, and he liked where this was heading. ~Oh, I have an imagination alright,~ he responded, adding a devilish smiley face. He paused for a moment, considering his next move carefully before typing out his final message. ~But sometimes, seeing is believing. Why don't we arrange a little video call later tonight? I promise I won't disappoint.~ You felt your heart skip a beat as you read Aegon's message. A video call? That certainly escalated things quickly. But you couldn't deny that you were intrigued. You thought about it for a moment, picturing what it would be like to see him face-to-face for the first time. ~Are you really that eager to get a peak at what I look like under my clothes?~ You teased back, adding a winking emoji for good measure. ~Sure, let's set something up later tomorrow. I'm excited to see what you have in store for me.~ Aegon's heart pounded in his chest as he read your message. His mind raced with anticipation, imagining what the video call would entail. He couldn't wait any longer; he wanted to see you now. ~How about now?~ he asked, typing back immediately. He hit send and sat up in bed, waiting anxiously for your response.

You raised an eyebrow as you read Aegon's message. Now? You hadn't expected him to push things so quickly, but you couldn't deny that the idea was tantalizing. ~Now? I mean, I suppose I could make time for a quick video call…~ You typed back, adding a thoughtful emoji for good measure. You sat up in bed too, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. Aegon's pulse quickened as he read your reply. This was happening. You two were actually doing this. He felt a rush of adrenaline surge through him, making his hands tremble slightly as he reached for his phone. Before he could change his mind, he hit accept on the incoming video call. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw your image come onto the screen. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he looked into your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Aegon's face appear on your screen. He was just as handsome as he had described himself, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach. You adjusted your own phone, making sure the camera captured your face from a flattering angle. You smiled at him nervously, trying to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you. "Hey there…" she greeted softly, her voice trembling just a bit.

Aegon returned your smile, his eyes locked on yours. He felt a strange warmth spreading through him, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from your face. "Hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control over himself. "You look amazing." His hand moved towards the edge of his blanket, slowly pulling it down to reveal his bare chest. He gave you a playful wink, then leaned back against his pillows, awaiting your reaction. Your eyes widened as you noticed the blanket falling slightly, revealing his bare chest. You couldn't help but admire his muscular physique, your eyes roaming over his chest and arms for just a moment before you met his gaze again. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice: "You… you don't look so bad yourself," you managed to say, your voice shaky with barely contained enthusiasm. "Is this your way of trying to tempt me?"

Aegon grinned at your words, his confidence growing with every second that passed. He loved the way your eyes roamed over his body, taking in every detail. It made him feel alive and desirable. "I wouldn't dream of tempting you," he lied smoothly, his tone dripping with flirtation. "I'd never do anything to jeopardize our… arrangement." He tilted his head slightly, running a hand through his hair as he watched you closely. There was something incredibly intoxicating about how you reacted to him, and he got harder by the second. You chuckled softly, your eyes flickering over Aegon's muscular chest once again. You were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by the chemistry between you, and you couldn't deny the effect he was having on you. "Oh really? You wouldn't dream of tempting me? Then what would you call this…" You gestured at the way he was leaning back against his pillows, bare-chested and confident as if he knew exactly how attractive he was. "Because I'd call it a very tempting sight, indeed."

Aegon laughed lightly, enjoying the banter between you both. He liked how you weren't easily intimidated or impressed - it only made him want to impress you more. "Well then," he said, smirking playfully, "it seems like I've got some work cut out for me. How do you suggest I go about not tempting you?" His eyes twinkled with mischief as he awaited your answer, his hand idly tracing patterns on the sheet covering his lap. You couldn't help but grin at Aegon's playful demeanor. He was effortlessly charming, and it was starting to wear your defenses down. You feigned thoughtfulness, tapping a finger against your chin as you pretended to consider his question. "Hmmm… I suppose you could start by putting your shirt back on," you suggested, your eyes darting down to his hand tracing patterns on the sheet. You bit your lip, trying to maintain some measure of control and failing miserably. Aegon chuckled, shaking his head slightly at your suggestion. He liked your sense of humor, even if it was aimed at him. "Oh come now," he protested, "isn't part of the fun seeing what's underneath?" His hand stopped its idle movements on the sheet, instead sliding further down to tease the edge of his pants.

"But since you're so concerned," he added with a devilish smirk, "I can always put these back on too…" With that, he began to sit up, reaching for his pants as if ready to pull them up and cover himself completely. The anticipation was killing him, and he loved every second of it. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Aegon reach for his pants. You wanted to stop him, to tell him to keep everything off, but your mouth wouldn't cooperate. All you could do was watch silently as he teased you, slowly rising from the bed with a smirk on his face. "You're enjoying this," you accused, your voice sounding slightly hoarse. "You're loving the fact that you have me all flustered and worked up right now, aren't you? Just admit it." Aegon paused mid-movement, looking directly into your eyes as you spoke. He didn't respond verbally, but the glint in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. Yes, he was enjoying this. Every second of it. Without another word, he let out a low chuckle and shook his head. But instead of pulling up his pants, he did the exact opposite, letting them slide down just enough to expose more of his toned thighs. His fingers toyed with the waistband teasingly, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. "And why would I deny it?" he asked, his voice smooth and seductive.

You watched with wide eyes as Aegon slowly peeled away his pants, revealing more of his golden expanse of skin. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, and your body reacting to the sight in ways that surprised you. You took a steadying breath, trying to regain some measure of control over yourself. "Because… because it's unfair," you finally managed to say, your voice low and slightly shaky. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, and it's not fair!" Aegon let out a low laugh, feeling his own excitement building. The way your pupils dilated as you looked at him. And there was no denying the way your body reacted to him, despite all your protests. He shrugged nonchalantly, letting his pants fall completely off his hips. Completely exposed now, he sat back against the pile of pillows behind him, making sure to give you a good view of his throbbing member. "Unfair or not," he said, grinning widely, "you're enjoying it too much to care."

Your eyes drifted down to Aegon's exposed member, and you gasped softly as you saw the evidence of his own arousal. Your breath caught in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your own desires in check. "That's not-" You cut yourself off, too flustered to argue. Dammit, he was right; you were enjoying this. Too much. You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus on his face instead of his body. "You're a tease, you know that?" You accused, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably. Aegon smirked at your accusation, knowing full well that he was being a complete tease. But damn, it felt good. He loved pushing buttons, especially when it came to someone as fiery as you. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted with a shrug. "But don't pretend like you hate it." As he spoke, his hands moved lower, wrapping around his shaft firmly. He gave it a few slow strokes, his thumb circling the sensitive tip as he watched your reaction carefully. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower as he continued to touch himself in front of you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched Aegon's hands move over his own member. It was a blatant display of dominance, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how much you were turned on by it, how wet you already were between your legs. "I…" You started, but cut yourself off, unable to form words. You crossed your arms under your breasts, squeezing them slightly as if trying to distract yourself from the show in front of you. You watched closely as Aegon started stroking himself, his words sending shivers down your spine. You hated to admit it, but you found yourself getting turned on by his boldness, his arrogance. It was infuriating, yet incredibly hot. Aegon watched as you struggled to find words, your heaving chest giving away your true feelings. He enjoyed watching you squirm, enjoyed knowing that he had this effect on you. It was power, pure and simple. He continued to stroke himself slowly, keeping his gaze locked onto yours. He could almost taste the frustration in the air between you two, and it only served to heighten his own arousal. "So tell me," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "What are you going to do about it?"

Your entire body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. You couldn't tear your eyes away from Aegon's hand moving over his thick cock. God, you wanted it. Wanted him. But the arrogant bastard was enjoying this too much. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he was reveling in it. Your breath hitched again as he spoke, his deep voice sending another jolt straight to your core. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, you simply stood there, staring at him, your body trembling with need. "Fuck," you cursed under your breath, hating how much you were affected by him. Aegon watched as you stood there, frozen in place, your body trembling with desire. He loved seeing you so conflicted, so frustrated. He loved knowing that he was the one causing those reactions in you. His hand slowed its pace, teasingly close to reaching the peak before stopping abruptly. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the conflict written all over your face. He relished in it, allowing himself a moment of silent satisfaction. "But isn't it better this way?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. "Don't you prefer the chase?"

You gritted your teeth, feeling the ache between your legs growing stronger by the second. You couldn't stand it anymore. The way he was playing with himself, the way he was taunting you. The way he was enjoying it all. You were going crazy here. And then, without thinking, you reached down and touched yourself through your panties, rubbing your swollen clit in small circles. You moaned softly, biting your lip to stifle the sound nearly dropping your phone. Your body was screaming at you to take matters into your own hands, to go over there and straddle him, to ride him until you were both panting and spent. But something about that thought made your stomach twist with anticipation. Because even though he was a total asshole, there was no denying the chemistry between you. It was explosive, and it terrified you. Aegon's eyes flickered with surprise as he heard your soft moan, followed quickly by the sight of you touching yourself. His fingers tightened around his shaft instinctively, his other hand reaching up to adjust his position on the bed. He was rock hard, throbbing painfully with need. Seeing you touch yourself was enough to push him to the edge.

His breathing became ragged as he watched you, his own movements becoming erratic as he neared his climax. He groaned, low and guttural, as he felt his balls tighten and his orgasm building. He didn't stop you, didn't try to stop himself. Instead, he just lay there, letting you watch as he came undone. "Oh fuck," he muttered, his voice strained as he shot ropes of cum across his stomach, each spurt painting a perfect picture of his frustration and desire. Seeing Aegon come undone was more than enough to send you over the edge. You bit your lip to muffle your moans, your hips bucking against your hand as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, focusing on the sensation of your fingers rubbing against your soaked panties. When you finally came back to reality, you realized you were still on the video chat with Aegon. You felt mortified by what you'd done, but also oddly satisfied. There was no hiding the fact that you'd just gotten off to watching him masturbate. "I can't believe we just did that," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Aegon watched as you came apart on screen, your moans filling the room. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, a sense of accomplishment. He'd done that to you, made you lose control. When you finally broke the silence, he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Believe it," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "And remember it too."

You glared at him, feeling humiliated and turned on all at once. Why did he have to be such an arrogant jerk? And why did he have to be so fucking attractive? You pulled your fingers out of your panties, bringing them up to your lips. Slowly, you sucked your fingers clean, savoring the taste of yourself while still on camera. You knew you were pushing things, but you couldn't resist the urge to torment him further. "And now, I'm going to get cleaned up," you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Aegon watched as you sucked your fingers clean, his eyes wide with disbelief. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, and he certainly hadn't expected that reaction. But he wasn't about to complain. If anything, it only served to fuel his own desires. "Well, I hope you enjoyed your little show," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Because I don't think you're ever going to forget it."

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you weren't going to forget any of it. Ever. Especially not the taste of yourself on your fingers. It was strangely erotic, and it sent shivers down your spine. You needed to cool off, and fast. But you couldn't deny that the whole situation was turning you on. More than you cared to admit. "Just keep telling yourself that," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you hung up the call. You grabbed your towel and headed towards the shower, your body still trembling from the orgasm he'd given you. And damn if it didn't make you want more. But you weren't about to let him know that. Aegon's grin widened as he heard your breathy sarcasm. You were playing hard to get, and he loved it. It added an extra layer of intrigue to the conversation.

~I was just thinking about our last conversation…and how much fun we had.~ He wrote, adding a playful wink emoji. ~And well…I was wondering if you'd be interested in taking things offline. Perhaps meeting up sometime? Just you and me?~

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd #1000 celebration

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aurae-rori · 9 months ago

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DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

#aurae analyzes #dr ratio #drratio #veritas ratio #analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #hsr #aventio #ratiorine #aventurine #dr ratio x aventurine #character study

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strlingsav · 2 years ago

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Idek if you will see this but i been reading your work and its amazing!! You’re genuenly so talented in writing. but could you maybe do a fic on Ghost and y/n jus having a steamy makeout sesh, don’t matter the context or backstory but just to include a lot of kissing. 🫣🫣

Thank you! 🤍 I can definitely do this!! Steamy make-outs are underrated.

Alone

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— You're left alone with Johnny's friend Simon.

Johnny had offered to help you move over the weekend, offering Simon's help too, in exchange for a case of beer. You were happy to oblige, eager for the extra help and a chance to see Simon again.

Johnny talked a lot about him. It was a given; they worked so closely together, and near-death experiences could really bring people together. You'd grown to know Simon through Johnny, enough to find yourself attracted to the brooding man.

Aside from your developing crush, you were glad Johnny had someone watching his back. Someone that seemed reliable and trustworthy. It was part of the reason why you'd so quickly accepted Simon's help. The way Johnny spoke of him only had you even more intrigued. Every story he told let you piece Simon together, bit by bit. You were starting to take interest in the puzzle of a man.

He was quiet, not much of a talker and his humour was dry. Most people would be off-put by his demeanour, but you liked it. Being so close with Johnny meant that sometimes, a break from the incessant talking was nice. Enjoyable even.

"Just leave it there, I can take it to my room," You said, waving your hand to dismiss Johnny carrying a large box full of sheets and blankets.

"You sure?" He asked, his brow quirked as he lowered it.

"Yeah, yeah," You replied. "It's not heavy. Won't need it tonight anyways."

Johnny nodded, leaving the box on the floor before joining you at the kitchen island.

You handed him a beer, taking a sip of the one in your hand.

"Thanks again," You said.

"Not a problem. Simon's done most of the work anyways."

"I expected as much," You hid your grin.

"Y'can find someone else to move your shite then," He scowled, moving around to sit on the chair. "You like it here?"

"It's not bad. Roomy. Only a few minutes from work."

You sat on the sofa, curling your feet up under you.

"Aye," He nodded. "Better than the last."

Simon stepped out of the spare room, rolling his shoulders before settling beside you.

"'S'all moved in there," He said, lifting his arm to the back of the couch.

"Thanks," You smiled softly. "Let me grab you a beer."

You came back with a beer in hand, passing it to him before sitting back down.

"Cheers," He nodded.

You looked around the room, still cluttered with boxes and random items you'd have to find a home for. Your head fell back, groaning softly.

"I still have a ton of shit to do."

"Wish I could stay an' help," Johnny said, setting down his empty beer. "I've got myself a dinner with my maw. I can stop by after."

"It's alright. I'll stay up and get it done before Monday."

"Maybe Simon could help ya?" Johnny's eyes shifted to Simon, who swallowed a sip of beer.

You avoided Johnny's gaze, knowing he'd be staring at you as your cheeks flushed, suspecting something of your bashful reaction. He'd sensed the attraction between the two of you; you were both too stubborn and proud to admit it.

Simon breathed in, "No plans tonight. If you need the help-"

"You really don't have to," You insisted, your eyes locking with his.

"Don't mind."

Johnny watched the interaction with a small smirk, enjoying the discomfort he created. You sighed, turning to Johnny with wide eyes and an expression that read, 'I'm going to murder you'.

"That's really nice of you," You smiled. "I'll owe you one."

Johnny left not long after, leaving yourself and Simon to unpacking the many boxes left in your living room.

It was silent between the two of you, hardly satiated by the quiet sound of the music in the background. You glanced over every so often, amused by the sight of him hunched over on your floor, rummaging through a box of plates and cutlery.

"Thanks again." Your voice was louder than anticipated, shattering the silence. "For staying to help."

He looked up at you, expressionless, though his eyes softened.

"Not much to do when I'm home," He said. "Beer and company ain't bad."

You nodded- a small smile crawled over you face as you tried not to read too much into his simple statement. You turned back to the box, taking a soft breath in.

"Johnny talks about you a lot," You said.

"He's a good mate."

"Seems to think the same of you."

"You known each other long?"

"Since college."

Silence ascended again, busying yourself with tidying and unpacking.

You blew out a harsh breath, looking over the array of boxes, half-opened around the cluttered living room.

"Don't think this'll be done by Monday," You huffed. "Let's just call it."

Simon smiled, not enough that you'd noticed, but he was amused.

He'd accepted Johnny's offer in hopes of spending more time with you. He despised civilian life. He didn't know how to function in a world without gunfire or imminent death. Despite that, he was okay doing mind-numbing tasks if he could sit and talk to you.

Part of him knew he owed Johnny a thanks for giving the two of you time together, though the other wanted to kill him for putting him on the spot.

You stood up, Simon following, and your foot caught on the nearest box. Simon's hand reached out to steady you, grabbing hold of your bicep before you fell forward.

"Y'alright?"

You nodded. Though inside, you could swear there was a tidal wave of nerves igniting with heat at the touch of his hand.

You stepped around the box, grabbing another couple beers from the fridge.

You rested your back against the island, sipping slowly, your eyes following Simon as he stood across from you. Your fingers nervously tapped the bottle, rhythmic, soothing- it didn't seem to work.

"You- um," You spoke up again. "You like this music?"

He could tell you were grasping at straws, looking for anything to fill the awkward silence. He wasn't one for idle chatter, and he didn't mind the silence, but he could tell his presence had you on edge. He knew you were trying to cover up the nervous habits you had; chewing your lip, bouncing your knee.

"Not bad," He nodded.

"Do you like being in the army?"

He furrowed his brows at the sudden subject change, an amused smile forming across his lips.

"That what you really want to ask me? 'Bout my work?"

"Just making conversation," You shrugged.

"Yeah, it's alright," He tilted his head. "You always so nervous makin' conversation?" He'd struck a nerve; your eyes flashed to his, wide and unblinking.

"Not really," You smiled. "Not really sure how to talk to you," You breathed out.

"I make you nervous?" He set the beer down beside him, moving slowly, predator-like as he inched toward you.

"You make everyone nervous," You teased.

It was a pathetic reach for comfort, for something to ease the building tension in your stomach as he stood before you.

"Don't think that's the case here," His lips were parted, stillness in the air. "You have somethin' else you wanna ask me, sweetheart?" He had his hands planted on the counter, trapping you within the confines of his body.

Sweetheart. The word rolled off his tongue, soft, smooth- it nearly made you melt. Your jugular pounded in your throat- he was flirting with you.

"Do you want another beer?"

He chuckled, low and dry. His head shook, before his eyes landed on yours.

"Would y'let me kiss you?"

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart threatening to jump out of your throat, palms tacky with sweat.

"Yes," You said, barely above a whisper, void of any tone, focused solely on his lips as he brought himself even closer.

His lips touched yours softly, hardly enough to feel, though it created sparks in your abdomen. He was gentle, creating a fleeting touch that made you chase after his lips when he pulled back.

Your eyes opened to find his, searching your face, appreciating the flush on your skin, the lust-filled glaze over your eyes.

He didn't hesitate this time, his lips making firm contact with yours, still apprehensive but savouring how good you felt against him. He let out a satisfied but restrained sigh, basking in the utter pleasure, while his hand mindlessly moved to your waist, delicately holding on, pulling you just a bit closer.

You had to crane your neck, nearly stand on your toes to reach him, your wobbly disposition worsening when forced to balance yourself.

He noticed, pulling away and lifting you swiftly onto the countertop. You parted your thighs, making room for his torso, accepting him closer than before.

Your lips reconnected, feverish and greedy as you devoured the bitterness and surprising softness on his lips. For an army man, he had miraculously smooth lips, addictive and warm.

His hand held onto your waist, the other resting on the top of your thigh, holding you close, aching for the feel of your body under his grip. They engulfed you, swallowed you whole, erased any other thoughts aside from the heat swarming inside you.

Your own hands had travelled around his shoulders, feeling the taught muscles surrounding his neck, your palms gliding up to lay against the nape of his neck. He was solid- strong and authoritative-it made your stomach churn with excitement.

Your tongue grazed his bottom lip, a teasing stroke that made his grip tighten. Your back arched into him, letting your tongue caress his lip until he reciprocated, gliding his against yours.

Like lighting a match, the sparks in your body lit up, creating a burn in your stomach.

His hand slid down past your hip, grabbing a handful of your ass as he pulled you off the counter to his hips. You inadvertently wrapped your legs around him, still moving your lips against his as he walked past the pile of boxes to lie you down on the couch.

He towered over you, removing the restrictive jacket he had on, his biceps flexing as he yanked them from the sleeves. Your gaze moved to see the tattoos covering his arms, the way his T-shirt fit so perfectly over his well-worked muscles.

He, in turn, had his eyes glued to you. Your hair splayed out on the pillow, your swollen lips now red with irritation, your eyes in the dim light of the room, how the baggy T-shirt you wore fell taught against your breasts when you breathed in. He could see the swell of your breasts, your perked nipples through the white fabric, and when you reached to grasp his shoulders, he felt heat travel to his groin.

His hands trailed from your hips, diving beneath your shirt to feel your smooth skin, the dip between your ribs. A bit further up, he ran teasing fingers over your breasts, eliciting a quiet gasp from your parted lips.

"Simon," You whispered, a fleeting announcement of pleasure that echoed in his head.

"Bloody hell," He said, low and guttural. "You been drivin' me mad, love."

You grinned, "That so?" You quipped, eager to learn more.

"Since I met you."

You hummed with satisfaction, sitting up to press your lips against his, to wrap your hand around his neck and pull him into you. He chuckled into your lips, his hand settling above you on the couch.

Your eyes drifted shut, toes curling with the feeling of his lips leaving soft kisses across your neck, before he reached your lips again.

He pushed his torso further between your thighs, unintentionally grinding his pelvis against yours. You moaned softly into his mouth, nipping at the plump flesh of his lip. He breathed out, his hips driving into yours, hitting just the right angle to grind against your clit. Your whimpers against his mouth had his cock hardening against you.

"I don't have any condoms," You said shyly, a blush creeping up your neck.

"Eager, are you?" He leaned in, his nose gently nudging your head aside so he could kiss the smooth skin of your neck. "'S'alright- rather take you out 'fore any o'that."

His body was flush with yours, lips connecting with unbroken ferventness. Your hands pulled against his shirt, forcing him into your body, holding him hostage.

"Y'make it real difficult to wait, sweetheart."

Your eyes brows crested, yearning for him, in his entirety.

"Sorry," You sighed. "Better take me to dinner soon."

A knock at your apartment door made your heads turn. It must've been Johnny, back from dinner.

"Open up, kid."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you #ask strlingsav #aloneseries

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campbell-rose · 1 year ago

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Hazbin Trailer + Rewrite Spitballing

The Hazbin Trailer omg

I finally watched it and like... it's so bad guys. Honestly, the only people I pity are the animators and the pilot voice actors, and the new actors too. Blake Roman especially, the man is super talented, but trying to fill the massive shoes of Michael is weighing his performance down so bad. Honestly, if Viv wasn't a petty brat, she could've kept Michael and gotten Blake as the singing voice.

Apparently there's a war on Heaven plot? I hope to god not, like that's NOT THE PREMISE. God Viv just cannot stick to her premises, can she? This happened with Zoophobia, initially it seemed like it was going to follow Cameron but slowly lost focus on her. Then Helluva Boss losing the hired assassin plot for the sake of shitty Stolitz drama. Seems redeeming sinners is going to be a side plot which is unfortunate because that was one of the biggest things i wanted from this show. I remember when i used to love Vivziepop and i got so excited for the pilot of Hazbin. Redeeming sinneers, that sounded so cool. It's what got me into demonology and was a big part of my life. Sad to see this happen.

I genuinely hate the stupid trope of heaven, the place that is literally paradise for good people, being bad. Like, i cannot feasibly imagine a universe in which Viv manages to write that in any compelling way. And why is it just ‘heaven bad’??? This could be an interesting story that discusses the nature of good and bad, talks about what makes someone a good person, should people be given redemption if they already blew their chance, is the definition of 'good' wrong? Like, in the hands of competent writers, Hazbin could be an interesting story, like a Walmart Good Place! But no, heaven bad, let's go kill angels that say fuck.

Like, as an example of my above point, let’s look at a familiar face from Helluva Boss, Mrs. Mayberry.

She killed someone, tried to kill someone, then herself, and is now in hell. But a good question could be raised of if her being in hell is even justified. Yes, she killed a person (and attempted to kill another) which is not a good thing to do. But she killed her husband in a fit of rage after seeing him cheating on her – like actively, red handed, balls deep cheating on her. From what we see of her before her death, she seems like an attentive and caring teacher and wife, she even says herself she was ‘good my entire life’. Her students love her, and literally the reason she kills herself seems to be because she realizes that they saw her literally murder someone. She did choke and throw a child, but that was played for comedy so I'm not counting that against her. She kills herself because she’s so shocked about what she’s done. She’s bitter because she’s in hell.

Her husband was a cheater and the woman she tried to kill was a murderer and a cannibal, so by that logic, doesn’t her killing a bad person negate the killing? Yes, murder is bad, she should’ve controlled herself, but this was one terrible moment in a lifetime of being good. Like, say someone kills a pedobear, is the person commiting the murder a bad person for killing someone who deserved it? Not that her husband deserved to die for cheating, a good beat down maybe. If a good person kills a bad person, does that make them a bad person too? Or does it come down to intention? Did the good only kill the bad for a selfish reason?

That’s an interesting conundrum (in my opinion). Does she deserve to redeem herself? How would she redeem herself? If I keep thinking on it, i'll ramble, but that's my thinking. Anyway, this made me think about a rewrite that follows this line of thinking.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Charlie being an angel and Vaggie being her Exterminator guard who goes with her to hell to redeem sinners is the best way to make this mess an interesting thing. Like, Charlie is an optimistic angel who thinks the extermination of sinners is inhumane and that the standards of Heaven need changed. Vaggie is literally trained to kill sinners and sees Charlie’s efforts as futile but is assigned to help her anyway. Makes sense why everyone would disrespect Charlie and treat her like an idiot for wanting to redeem sinners, instead of insulting the daughter of FUCKING LUCIFER HIMSELF, they’re laughing at an angel who came down out of nowhere and is acting high and mighty.

Also, Charlie can keep the name Charlie Magne instead of Morningstar because she's no longer Lucifer's daughter. Vaggie is just V. boom, problem solved, i'm a genius.

Have a doodle

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #sorry for the ramble #i just like exploring actual interesting things in writing

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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could u maybe make a batfam x male reader and where the reader is like trained to be an spy or something and their mission was to figure out what was going on inside the manor but they figured out to much and got roped into the batfams family

Oh shit. Poor reader... He is going to get roped in well. Also, sorry everyone for this being short and vague. School started about a week ago and I'm already tired. Haha...

Summary: (Y/N) is sent to find out what is happening in the Wayne manor for a mission. He gets to roped in.

Warnings:

(Y/N) was still shocked at the mission he got. He isn't a stranger when it comes to infiltration and undercover missions, but this mission is on a whole a new level. The mission is about going undercover in the Wayne manor.

He had his fair share of undercover and infiltration missions, but he never had a mission of this type. It wasn't just a mission of few weeks, this was going to be take a very long time. Probably up to year or even longer.

He still doesn't understand what Bruce Wayne might hide in that manor of his. Sure, he is considered to be one of the richest and one of the most powerful people in the world, but still.

What type of information this man could have? More so, why are the kids thrown in to equation too? They seemed to be a happy family. He wasn't a fan of long term missions, he hated them with burning passion, but he didn't have any choice in the matter.

He takes what he is given and gets the job done as quickly as possible. You only say yes sir and go get ready.

The plan was for him to spend some time on the streets as an 'orphan'. It was a detailed plan. Every single possibility was considered when creating this plan.

One of the things in the spy business is that you can't get attached to people you are going after.

(Y/N) was going to break the rule very soon.

It has been 5 months since he infiltrated the Wayne manor. (Y/N) concluded pretty quickly that the family didn't have anything to hide. They are a normal family, with all the chaos that normally goes with it.

But what he didn't expect that he got too roped in. He got attached... The burden of why he was really in the manor was really weighing on him.

It felt heavy on his shoulders and he didn't know what to do now. He finally got a family, although through deception, but still, he finally got a family. He was alone in his life, but now he had a chance to be happy.

He was often told by his superiors that he had a natural talent for this line of work. It often grinded his gears when he heard it. Just because he was good at something, doesn't mean he wants to do it for the rest of his life.

He was in his room, sighing for the nth time. He needed to tell them. How was he going to tell them?

After another sleepless night, he ventured downstairs into the kitchen. He saw Tim alone, putting Red Bull in his coffee. They locked eyes for a moment and Tim pointed at his mug with his finger.

" Thanks. " (Y/N) mumbled, walking over to the mug.

" Is something bothering you? " Tim asked, raising his brow.

(Y/N) froze for a moment. Did they catch on? Is this a trap?

" No. " (Y/N) lied, taking a sip of his coffee.

" I don't mean to bother you, but you look like you aren't doing well. You can always come talk to me if you need to. " Tim offered and (Y/N) offered him a smile in return. It took some effort to smile genuinely, but he hoped that it worked.

" Okay. If you need me, you know where to find me. " Tim said, sitting down at the table. (Y/N) heard the others come in and he also moved to sit down at the table.

He tapped his fingers against his mug, feeling something weird. It was a gut feeling, something that came periodically. And wow, did come in strong now. Why would it come so strong now, he didn't know, but he knew that this going to be a hard day to go through.

" (Y/N), are you okay? You look exhausted. " Bruce commented, looking at (Y/N).

" I'm fine, just some trouble sleeping. " (Y/N) said, eyes moving back down to the coffee. Bruce exchanged a look with others.

It was now evening and the others formed a plan. They were going to confront (Y/N) with the evidence. They noticed how he wasn't even trying to fish out information anymore. They knew that he was trying in the beginning, but they were feeding him false information.

But he didn't need to know that.

Not for now at least.

The dinner was over and (Y/N) was ready to go to his room. Bruce, however, wasn't having it.

" (Y/N) we need to talk. " Bruce said, motioning with his head for (Y/N) to sit down. (Y/N) listened. What was this about? Was it about something he has done with the boys?

About the time when they put glitter on Bruce's work suit? Or when they accidently shot the wall and covered it up with a random photo? Or was it about (Y/N)'s true identity?

(Y/N) hoped it wasn't about that. But with all of the stuff that has been on his mind?

He was screwed.

He sat back down, watching as everyone's face turned neutral. Oh God.

He was made. His cover was blown. Gone. (Y/N) saw a paper folder with his name on it.

(Y/N) was exposed.

He raised his head, trying to stay neutral. He can't show his emotions.

" We knew from the beginning. " Bruce said, showing him the file. (Y/N)'s eyes widened for a little bit. What? Then... Whaaat?

" I know that look in your eyes. You are not doing this out of your own freewill. " Bruce continued, his blue eyes looking right into his soul.

" So I'm giving you a choice. Since your feelings were genuine and since the boys bonded with you, you can have an out. Or you can go back. " Bruce concluded and (Y/N) blinked a few times trying to comprehend all of this.

He was never this disarmed so quickly.

" I... I don't know what to say. " (Y/N) admitted softly and so quietly.

" Well, think about it at least. I won't force anything on you. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded, standing up.

" I'm going to my room. I really need to think. "

Everyone just nodded and (Y/N) left, letting out a breath. This... This went well.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #batfamily #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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norlestappen · 9 months ago

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The Williams Shitstorm - LS2

Summary: After Alex crashed in Australia, Logan was just ready to be sad with y/n, but y/n was having none of that. She was ready to fight everyone to make sure her boyfriend was happy again. Sad-boyfriend!Logan x confident gf!reader

Time flew by, you cheering for your boyfriend, feeling so confident in his performance in the current season. You felt so happy knowing that Logan got his second chance and could finally prove that he was just as talented as the other drivers on the grid.

When you used to work in a boring office, you would always miss your boyfriend, seeing him on the television that was positioned on the other end of the room.

Dating a racing driver had its ups and downs, but you would never trade it for the world. You had a gentle, kind, and wholehearted man by your side, who never once doubted your abilities or you.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity when you were offered a job in Williams when Logan resigned for another year. You felt ecstatic being able to stay with your boyfriend, still being able to work and finally having that free time together that you guys always missed out on.

All of that gratefulness ended when you were in Melbourne, Alex had just crashed in FP2 and they had to find a solution on what to do. You were on edge a little bit, not liking the fact what the team was talking about. Getting Alex to race in Logans car? Impossible. Trying to repair his car? Unless they were magicians, that would be pretty impossible too. You were getting impatient, waiting in Logan’s drivers’ room, wanting an answer on this whole situation. You knew that Logan would agree to anything that James made him do, because he was just that person. Never arguing, in hopes to not raise any attention to himself.

So, when the door opened and he just laid down next to you on the tiny couch, you just knew something must have happened. He would always try to escape his mind by cuddling into you, like an infant. But you also knew that there was no way to get the information at that given moment. He needed to calm down, collect his thoughts and just relax before approaching the subject.

In the meantime, you were texting the wags group chat, trying to get more information on whatever drama was going on in the other teams. But most things weren’t new.

Kika and Flavy were complaining about Alpine being shit. Alexandra and Rebecca had their own conversation going on, while both Lilys, Luisa, and you were discussing what was going on with Logan. Barely a few minutes went on, when you got a message of Alex’s Lily:

Lily Albono: heyy girl, so I just talked to Alex, and I got horrible news. Alex is fine btw, but idk about Logan. Is he with you? Alex is worried. Apparently, Alex is driving Logans car tomorrow? Wish I had better news, but James said that Logan is sitting out this GP since Alex always has more points than him.

Your phone fell down, accidentally hitting Logan’s head as it fell down onto the floor. You couldn’t even process what happened as your whole body was suddenly fueled with anger and frustration.

Sitting up, you looked at your confused and sleepy boyfriend and you just hug him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lo? You do know that you can always tell me anything, right?” He looked up at you, nodding slightly, tears escaping his eyes already.

“You know about it, don’t you? That I can’t race anymore this week?” You nodded, not wanting to scare Logan because you knew that he was just the babygirl in this relationship.

#logan sargeant smut #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lily muni he #australia 2024 #gp australia #melbourne #williams racing #james vowels #williams f1 #alex taking logans car #chassis #logan sargeant is soooo hot

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quillandink22 · 13 days ago

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Happy late Christmas, @winniemaywebber. I'm your secret santa this year. Sorry for the delay in posting

It's honestly been such a pleasure getting to know you. You're an amazingly talented writer and content creator. Thanks again for letting me borrow Olive for this story, and I hope I did her some justice. And a special thanks to @blakelysco-pilot for letting me name drop her fabulous OC Val. Please check out both of their amazing stories to get to know their girls better than I could ever hope to write them !!

Thanks aswell to @hbowardaily for organising the event !

There had been nothing remarkable about that day nothing to set that Thursday apart from any other on the base. Rain, powdered eggs, and endless training. The kind of day that blurred into the monotony of military life, destined to slip through his memory unnoticed. The kind of day that had bored him senseless before he flew his first mission.

Sweet Like Honey

Unremarkable.

People didn’t die on unremarkable days. There were

no letters to write, no footlockers to pack and ship home. Those days didn’t bore him anymore.

It would have stayed unremarkable if Blakely hadn’t dragged him out. And he wouldn’t have gone at all if DeMarco hadn’t been rambling on about some girl he was hoping to impress. Douglass couldn’t resist the chance to witness that particular disaster unfold, so he went.

He’d settled into the seat next to Blakely, beer in hand, completely unaware that he was about to live through a moment that would stay with him forever.

He’d remember the brass band playing Moonlight Serenade in the corner of the room, the air thick with smoke and cheap cologne. He’d remember the way his heart skipped when the door swung open. How Blakely had straightened in his chair, his dimples deepening as a grin spread across his face at the sight of his Val.

And then, there she was hand in hand with Val.

The soft blue of her dress stood out against the sea of endless uniforms. But it wasn’t the dress, lovely as it was. Nor was it the way her soft brown hair fell in perfect curls around her beautiful face. As flawless as all that seemed, nothing could compare to her eyes.

The way they scanned the room, wide and searching, like she was seeing it for the first time. Like this little bar was something special, something set apart from every other dance hall or pub in England.

And yet, there was something in the way she walked confident, poised, as though she’d been here a hundred times before. She moved like she belonged. And yet, to Douglass, it felt like she was stepping into his world for the very first time.

“That’s hardly DeMarco’s girl, is it?” Blakely whispered, leaning in as they watched the man in question make a beeline for her.

“Not yet,” Douglass teased, though his confidence wavered when her eyes locked with his across the bar.

She held his gaze for a moment, long enough for him to notice they were hazel. Long enough for him to shoot her a wink more out of habit than intention. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her gaze, making him grin.

“Don’t do it,” Blakely warned, shooting him a knowing look.

“Can’t a guy introduce himself?” he shot back, though he was debating it in his mind.

He liked Demarco and hed been talking about this mystery girl since she’d “appeared out of thin air,” as he’d put it. He should have done the decent thing and stayed away, given Benny a chance.

But then she caught his eye again.

There was something so different about her. Maybe he just knew. Knew, the way the characters in Brady’s fancy plays always seemed to know in those great love stories. He’d never believed in that love at first sight.

Then there was Olive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was no room for fear in a flying fortress. He couldn't afford to let it seep into his mind—not when the flak got so heavy the plane pivoted, not in the silence that followed, brief as it always was before the Luftwaffe arrived. There was no place for fear among the scattered bullet casings. He ignored every hit as best he could, blotted out the holes as they appeared, and dismissed the bullets that zipped by all too close.

He couldn't fear not when he needed steady hands and a clear head. Not when Blakely put all his faith in him and handed over control. Once, he'd asked Blakely what it felt like to lose that control, for a pilot to let go of the plane and trust someone else. Blakely had simply raised an eyebrow, probably worried about the whiskey that had led his friend to such a serious question. Then he'd smiled and said, "As long as it’s you, Douglass, I ain't got no fear."

He’d never admit to the feeling none of them did. They left it behind on the hardstand, buried it under routine checks and procedures that reduced every mission to a series of ticked boxes. When rubber met tarmac at the end of it all, he thanked God he’d made it and moved on.

But as the air miles racked up and the missions grew more intense, it became harder to leave it behind. Harder to leave her behind. She’d smile and kiss his cheek, wishing him luck with a determination in her eyes so fierce he sometimes wondered if her will alone brought him back. But he worried now. As casualties mounted and men went missing, as their missions grew riskier and less planned, the fear followed him into the cockpit.

The fear of leaving her behind.

So he became determined to make every second count, to give her more than one memory to remember him by.

“Are you sure it’s not too... I dunno, cheesy?” he asked, eyeing the blanket he’d laid out on the ground. His cheeks burned. He wasn’t shy, but he’d never made an effort like this before, and her silence wasn’t helping. He was afraid to look at her.

Her hand found his, and their eyes finally met. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles.

“I’m sure.” To drive away any doubt, she kissed his cheek.

“Well then, sweetheart,” he said, flashing his best smile as he guided her toward the quilt. The light purple fabric stood out against the lush green meadow that rolled around the hardstand, still covered in the soft dew of morning. He’d laid a tarp underneath to keep the damp from seeping through.

He helped her sit, settling down beside her, close enough to catch the sweet scent of her perfume. She hadn’t had much time to prepare—he’d told Val to drag her out of bed and send her his way at dawn. It showed. Her face was bare of makeup, soft pillow lines still visible on her cheek. But her uniform was perfect, and he liked her this way.

“It’s a little early,” she teased with a yawn.

“Had to be,” he said, smirking. “You’d miss it otherwise.” He gestured toward the horizon, where the sun was breaking through the clouds. He’d seen his fair share of sunrises lately.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes lighting up. He couldn’t help but admire her.

“You James Douglass are more romantic than you let on,” she teased, though a slight shiver betrayed her. It wasn’t exactly warm, and he almost felt guilty for dragging her out of her cozy bed.

“Here,” he said, pulling a lavender blanket from the picnic basket he’d hidden in the long grass. He draped it gently over her shoulders and smiled as she snuggled into it, leaning against him.

“You hungry?” he asked, pulling out the delicately wrapped pancakes he’d bartered for in the mess. They were worth the Lucky Strikes he’d traded to see her smile. He handed her a bottle of cherry Coke, knowing he was onto a winner.

“What’s all this for?” she asked, not skeptically but in that teasing way of hers.

“Can’t a guy treat his girl?”

She smiled and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

The sun climbed higher, tiny rainbows glinting in the morning dew. The base wasn’t fully awake yet—just a few distant shadows of men returning from the pub or finishing night shifts. But the meadow was alive in other ways. Birds sang softly, unaware of the war, as if it were just another morning. Swallows swooped low, catching sleepy bugs, while cows grazed peacefully in the distance.

“You make me strong, Ollie,” he whispered against her ear as they ate. As they huddled closer together, his arm dropped around her shoulders. Her head tucked gently against his collarbone. He couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers through her delicate curls. She didn’t complain, though he was sure he was slowly unwinding them from their tight spirals.

“It’s beautiful, Dougie,” she sighed, her eyes watching the horizon.

“Ain’t as pretty as you.”

She sat up and faced him, the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

He wasn’t sure who closed the gap. Maybe they’d both just been falling, pulled together by some invisible string. It was natural now, more polished yet no less exciting than their first kiss. No less perfect. She had a way of taking his breath away.

His hands stayed wrapped in her soft hair as hers ran along his uniform jacket, awakening every nerve in his body. There was only her.

When they pulled apart, breathless, their eyes were wide with want. The taste of her lingered on his lips, as sweet as honey.

“You’re staring at me,” she whispered against his lips.

“You know I can't help it ” he smiled.

#hbowarsanta24 #masters of the air #james douglass #james douglass x oc #mota fanfic

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itsdeniini · 7 months ago

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𖹭 SUNOO'S FUTURE PATHS IN CAREER 𖹭

(₊˚ʚ🪼₊˚✧ ) note ᰔᩚ ⊹ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ𓆜ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂㅤ🪩 𓇼

i am a self-taught tarot reader, and the interpretations i provide are personal. if anyone would like to share their own insights, i would be more than happy to hear them! please be kind <3

career atm!↪

《ten of wands, eight of swords, the devil》

:c Ah, how do I start? Well, you deserve much better, Sunoo. MUCH BETTER. At the moment, he feels extremely drained, like he's so exhausted by everything that's happening at the moment. it's too much to handle, and the pressure on him is going overdrive. But... he's standing on both feet strong to not disappoint engene. There are a lot of tears, late-night talking, and thoughts like, "Am I doing everything right? I suppose I'm doing a good job and I should push it more; it's still not enough, and I still have a lot of things to bring to the table, but... I feel like losing my ground, and there is a lot of competition surrounding me. How can I maintain myself in a good mood and do my best at the same time when it's so tough and I'm almost worn out? Hm, I should be patient and keep working hard." I've been going through the oracles and they're literally saying that he's been feeling lost and excessively restricted in his career. There is a lot of self-doubt that is plaguing him. deep inside, he wishes he would have the chance to take some control over his own career, but he understands that now that's something surreal, and he has to keep agreeing to the terms of his hard obtained contract and follow the rules that were set for him. And those are impediments that are literally suffocating him and his artistic soul, making him feel like he's not moving further and standing in the same place for too damn long. that's not something that has been happening for just a few months; no, it's been almost 4 years, and there are still a lot of fears to overcome and challenges to face. His inner child may be happy that his mature self managed to pursue his dream career, but at what cost?

However, he feels a bit more at ease lately as he's getting some opportunities to showcase himself. It's not like he's feeling satisfied with the bare minimum though; that's not even something he's associating himself with because Sunoo is aware he's got the talent, the visuals, and the overall presence that can carry him through his whole life. He knows it's not just a natural gift that was given to him; it's constant hard work he's been putting in for a long time now, and he wants the seeds he planted as a young man to blossom until the time he reaches his peak. That's why now he's trying to snatch every opportunity in his way (in fact, there were a lot of them in the past, but they were all fumbled because of be-) .. ANYWAYS 😌 Sunoo is really thriving at the moment with those little lucky chances he's getting; he knows that's his time to shine, and he wouldn't want to stop any soon.

future career paths! ↪

《the magician, the star, the ace of pentacles》

GRANDIOSE PLANS!

Sunoo will get involved in a lot of activities in the future, BUT there is something... 🐟 .. yeah, something FISHY will be going on. I think there will be a big crew that will manage Sunoo's career, and some of these crew members may not exactly be his perfect co-workers. There will be people who may want to screw him by creating behind-the-scenes rumors or even a whole scandal that revolves around him. It feels like echoes from the past will also reappear and will make themselves known. It will be an unexpected blow to his career. Everything will fall on him at once, and this will be one of the most difficult periods of his life. From here, the energy breaks off, and it’s a little unclear to me what he’s going to do next, since the picture seems to be that this is a fatal knockout that cannot be avoided, but knowing Sunoo, I think he won’t give up without a fight. Still, some outcome is foreseen. This story will have an ending.

But let's talk about the good stuff now!

He is a entertainer. He knows how to 🌟ENTERTAIN🌟 the public!

First of all, he is an incredible fit for the variety shows (and that's not a secret to anyone), so... I think he's most probably thinking of one of his own. It may be a podcast or daily talk show where he would be able to express himself and maybe even talk about his own activities, like something casual, his daily routine, for example, but mainly about photo shoots, his involvement in the media, and most importantly, about his ACTING! Yeah, actor Sunoo is coming, and that career branch of his can even potentially overtake the singing one. Like, we'll be GAGGED when he gets that male lead role (he'll be starting with something BIG; this opportunity will be one of a kind and thus will give him a boost that many newbie actors would wish to have). He will be all over the place, and his singing capabilities will also be used rightfully (he will probably sing an OST?) to attract the audience and gain more attention to his new beginnings in this field. And of course, a lot of individuals will not be happy with that situation because, as I said, some echoes from the past will be sure that this success is thanks to them, and they're the ones who made him famous. This battle for justice will last for some time, and the outcome will become clearer with time. Some things may indicate that the initial stages of this conflict are already behind the scenes at the moment, and when it all becomes public, there will be THAT period when everything will collapse at once.

In addition to the things that I mentioned earlier, there is also the possibility of him starting his own brand, which will initially generate passive income, but then grow into something with a fairly larger impact.

Sunoo may start as a muse for a brand (🧴🌬️) and take this as experience for creating his own thing later. He wants to participate in the making process of his product and then translate this on his platform so he can show everything, from how the idea appeared to how you use it.

Something cute and practical like this, hm?

That was it, I wish Sunoo all the best, I know he'll make it through and we'll be so proud of him! >.<

#𖹭densunie-readings #enhypen #enhypen reading #enhypen tarot #kpop #kpop reading #kpop tarot #sunoo #sunoo tarot #sunoo reading

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skwigelfskwisgaar · 8 months ago

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Cold.

Skwisgaar always hated the cold. But it wasn't like he wasn't used to it - he had grown up swaddled in the biting cold winds, reminders that his mother had forgotten to buy food, to purchase new coats, socks, boots for her growing boy. He was an afterthought, to be left outside like the rest of her worries.

It was why he hated the cold.

He said it was because he was always stuck outside and exposed to it - which wasn't a total lie - but in reality it was because it was a reminder that he was unwanted by the one person he ever wanted to be noticed by when he was young. He wasn't meant for love, he wasn't deserving of it. He was unworthy of it.

He loathed everything about the cold and the snow.

It's why he was probably the only one opposed to the idea of the concert in Danzig - the cold affected sound quality, and it was cold.

Right now, he was trapped in the icy wilds of who knew where and stuck with Toki, without a guitar, and no cell reception. In the cold. But to the more pressing matter at hand, he had to tell Toki about something that was absolutely necessary before he forgot.

"I coulds hear your feedback in mine monitors!"

Skwisgaar hated the snow, but maybe because they were stranded together and he felt some kinship with a fellow Scandinavian that instead of complaining about the fact that they were needing rescue, the blonde felt maybe he should try to dig into Toki's subpar playing at their concert. Especially given that Toki had grown up playing in the harsh Norwegian landscapes and should know to tune his guitar for colder temps -

"How dares you - !" Toki cuts him off, offended that Skwisgaar had told him his playing sucked. Maybe if he practiced or actually paid attention to Skwisgaar when they practiced, maybe he wouldn't have feedback during the concert. Sometimes, it felt like Toki wanted Skwisgaar to be disappointed. It didn't make sense that such a talented guitarist would make such careless mistakes otherwise.

Regardless, he tried to hear Toki's rebuttal about how he was 'killings it', but he was too worried about the cold.

There was a pit growing in his stomach with each step they both took and it was taking every fiber in his body to stop himself from cutting Toki off on his rant - it felt like he was that young little boy again running home excited to show his mom that he got a passing grade in his home ec and music class only to see --

A tree exploded next to them. Halted to a stop, Skwisgaar's thoughts froze, and he stood still, much like Toki before he decided to comment.

"That was weirds."

A large brutish man emerged from the tree line, letting loose a battle cry. Already on edge from the botched concert and a failed escape attempt, Skwisgaar joined Toki in screaming out in fright.

"Time to die!" Both turn in a frenzy and run, long hair wildly whipping behind them. Neither make it far enough and get shoved down as their chaser pulls out a weapon.

In a panic, Skwisgaar thought of how much he hated that after all this time, he was going to die in the snow. Surrounded by the cold. The very thing reminding him the he was unworthy of love. He looked over to see Toki, who was much more confused than panicked, maybe because he had a fighting chance at kicking this guy's ass than Skwisgaar. He took a moment to let his mind calm down from the frantic thoughts speeding through it before he spoke.

He thought of the way the snow crunched under the boots of the man as he took his time to pick between him and his friend. He thought of how he often wanted to play music forever with Toki, and so, quickly formulated that into words before anything else happened.

He thought of all the times he felt the happiest.

The image of Toki and his audition, and how he impressed the band and blew Skwisgaar's mind.

The first recording of them in the studio together as a band.

The privilege of having a fellow Scandinavian who understood basic Swedish and knowing enough Norsk to talk to Toki when he could.

The times when Toki told him how safe he felt, or the times he opened up about why guitars had saved him much like how Skwisgaar felt they had saved him too.

So he said the only thing he could.

The only thing he felt was appropriate.

"I's ... will sees you in Valhallska, Toki."

Toki looked over, a hesitation lasting half a second.

"I always ... hateds you, Skwisgaar." There was a half second in his response but Skwisgaar's heart was singing at the very idea that anyone admitted to feeling anything for him. Toki admitting that he felt this passionate anger, this brutal fury for Skwisgaar made the blonde's heart soar. Toki had this black fury, brutal anger, raw talent that he had trusted Skwisgaar with to pour into their music. To hear Toki aim at him when it was probably more of Toki trusting Skwisgaar with it was neither here nor there, but nonetheless it cemented what Skwisgaar had thought of their musical dynamic for a long time now.

To hear him say it out loud was euphoric.

He knew there were days that Toki wanted to rip Skwisgaar apart, or who knew what else with that wild primal look he had in his eyes after practice sessions - but for him to admit this on what might be their metaphorical deathbeds?

It was the highest form of flattery Skwisgaar had ever been granted and he had no way of of knowing how to respond. So he smiled.

He cracked a small, albeit genuine, smile.

And he answered honestly.

"...I knows Toki, I knows."

- - - - -

It was cold in his room, no matter how often he fiddled with the thermostat. Ever since he had the scare with Toki and his new guitar teacher, Skwisgaar's room became colder. He was sure Toki was playing tricks on him at this point, or the others were messing around with him when he wasn't looking. They all knew he hated the cold. It was probably more mind tricks.

Right now he had a hard time even playing classic Dethklok songs because his hands were so cold. He muttered a few curses under his breath and started again from the top, gluing his eyes back on to the metronome and internalizing the beat.

Closing his eyes, Skwisgaar tried to playing the Duncan Hills jingle again from memory, trying to forget the recital and the events that led up to it. Toki's tutor had died last week, which should have meant Toki and the other guys would find a way to stop fucking around with Skwisgaar - they moved on to the next thing which was Murderface and a line of Planet Piss watches he was planning on launching. Yet Skwisgaar hadn't been able to find a way to regulate the room to a stable temperature he could tolerate.

He was in the middle of playing the stupid coffee jingle when he heard a knock on the door. Skwisgaar mumbled something about coming in before rolling his eyes at the hulking mass that was Nathan - probably there to tease him about Toki still. He made his peace that he wasn't the best tutor for Toki, as much as that hurt to admit, but they weren't going to stop him from being better.

"Hey, I heard Toki was - holy shit Skwisgaar - !"

In a flash Nathan had torn Skwisgaar's hands away from his Explorer, with Pickles and Murderface in tow as they now poked and prodded at his bloodied hands with very poorly veiled concerns.

It took over an hour of some careful wording and promises to Charles to get everyone to leave him alone after all was said and done. Even Toki had stopped by to see what happened, to which he put his foot down and shooed everyone out with promises of care and rest if they left him alone

Everyone except Nathan.

"Nat'an, you amnst needs to dotes on mes like Fatty Ding Dongs."

Nathan had taken a seat on the bed next to him, looking at him like he did when Toki or Murderface screwed up their parts.

With pity.

"Uh. Just. Take it easy, need you in peak shape."

"Can'ts stays in peak shapes if I can'ts praktises." Skwisgaar pulled his signature white fur cover on himself, his room unbearably cold still. He forgot to mention to Charles about the fact that his room needed servicing.

"Well. Maybe. Hrm. Maybe ease up. On the whole... uh. On the whole practicing thing."

"Nat'an, I has to be betters than Tokis - !"

"Skwisgaar. We were messing with you. We - I didn't think - this was a joke."

Skwisgaar looked down at his hands. He knew guitarists who had done bloody messes of themselves trying to meet deadlines. Hell, Skwisgaar had done that to himself several times trying to complete songs with Toki and Murderface, all 3 of them sporting some gnarly blisters; bloody bandaids the days after recordings were finished worn as badges of honor. Why was this a concern all of a sudden?

"I's had bloody blisters before meeting deadlines. Williams, Toki, mes toos. Amns dis about somet'ings else, Nat'ans?" Skwisgaar could see Nathan struggling to spin this in a way where nobody broke that stupid rule but it wasn't like they had particularly tried to hide it this time. Maybe it was habit at this point - Pickles talking about the insurance policies Charles took out on each of his fingers and Murderface talking about how devastated Toki would be and how he would be burdened with the younger man. As if either one of them actually played their instrument outside of concerts or the recording room.

"Look, I'm only saying this because no one else is here to hear this but Skwisgaar, this is ... uh. Concerning."

"Ands?"

"And? Is Toki getting better than you really that big a deal to you?"

"Woulds it be that bigs a deal to admit that I has not'ing else?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I only has de guitar. If I amnst de best at de guitar, what do I has to mine name?"

"You have Dethklok. You have us."

Nathan got up, giving Skwisgaar a squeeze on the shoulder, before leaving the room. His room, oddly enough, was no longer cold after that night. At least now he knew he had his band. He had his friends.

- - - - -

The Dethcopter was cold. Maybe it was because Toki and Pickles beat the living shit out of Murderface and he insisted they stay an extra hour to get some ice for his aching bruises, or maybe because he had just broken up with Tori, the first time he felt like he was at home outside of Mordhaus. Regardless of which, Skwisgaar was over it. The cold was exactly as it was from his memories - sharp, biting, numbing.

Sitting across from him, Murderface gave him an accusatory look - something Murderface had mastered over the years as their profit chasing bassist. Despite both seats facing the same direction, they both managed to face each other while they made small talk.

"Looks like Pickle and Tokis really puts de boots to you."

"I wish those fuckers put the boots to me..."

Skwisgaar, out of pity, or out of duty to the band, took his freezing hands and placed them on Murderface's knuckles, red and bruised from covering himself from Toki's and Pickles' beating. Couldn't have a bassist with useless hands. Murderface flinched at first, then took Skwisgaar's cold fingers and placed them on his other knuckles, alternating them every few seconds.

"Amns wantings to knows whats you dids to get beaten by Pickle and Toki." Murderface grumbled, or mumbled, Skwisgaar could never tell with that terrible lisp of his, before he responded.

"You know, that chick you were with looked an awful lot like schomeone we know, Skwischgaar."

Skwisgaar arched an eyebrow. He thought about all the women they knew, which wasn't many to begin with, and tried very hard to think of who his ex-girlfriend could even remotely look like.

"I's... not sure who she amns looking like." Murderface made a smug face, as a Klokateer came by to give him an ice pack for his leg.

"Whats?" Murderface took the ice pack from his knee and placed it on his hands when Skwisgaar retreated his hands, trying to question Murderface now.

"Brown hair, blue eyes. Blue sweater, really Skwischgaar?"

"She amns sweet and kinds, and likes animals. She hads a small collection of sea creature plushies. Wants to be a doctor." He smiled a little, remembering the fun dates he had with Tori, and the fun outing to the aquarium in Stockholm. He didn't even know about Skansen-Akvariet and now it became a new favorite spot in his home country to visit.

"Holy schit, plushies?" Murderface clamped a less bruised hand over his mouth, looking more like he was trying to contain his laughter instead of trying to have a conversation. Skwisgaar scowled at him.

"Ja, Williams. She amns havings a sweet side. Classy lady nameds Tori Skarsgard. She hads me whats call binge watch Moomintroll wit her, even if I alreadies seen it with Toki when he amns join - !"

"Why the fuck am I the only one here to hear this?!"

"You amns just jealous dat I founds a wonderful lady even ifs I's not famous." Skwisgaar crossed his arms in indignance, a bit upset that Murderface was finding humor in any of this. Maybe Skwisgaar was sore about letting Tori go. Maybe he was upset about the cold. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

"Skwischgaar." Murderface stopped smiling and more or less kept a serious face. At this point Skwisgaar saw that maybe Murderface was seeing something he wasn't - maybe that Tori resembled someone he already knew.

" ... whatevers. It amns over wit her." Murderface sighed, a placed a hand on Skwisgaar's shoulder. Was that pity he picked up on in the bassist's voice?

"What, Williams? Are you goings to tells me to stops de moping over Tori? Tori amns amazings but evens Tori amnst a worthy of a gods?"

"What the fuck - no, I wasch going to say that she was Toki with tits, you fucking egotistical prick!"

Skwisgaar's brain short circuited at the words that came spilling out of Murderface's mouth. He blinked, and he registered that Murderface had begun to to snap his fingers in front of his face and had said - asked actually, about something. But nothing was registering.

Brunette with a large plushie collection. The blue sweater he gifted her for their aquarium date. A shared love for animals. The fact that both of them made him sit down and watch Moomintroll nonstop --

Snap!

Skwisgaar shot his hands up and slapped it over Murderface's mouth, as he scanned the Dethcopter for prying ears. Once he saw not even Klokateers were nearby, he leaned in to whisper. Murderface, who was caught mid finger snap, stopped as if frozen in ice. He locked eyes with Skwisgaar once the hands came off his mouth.

"So, what gives Skwischgaar?! Your first ever girlfriend and it's literally a female Toki - !"

"I misseds Mordhaus."

"Excuses." He and Murderface glare at each other before Murderface sighs and lets out a laugh.

"What amns funny, Williams?!" Skwisgaar crosses his arms again, furious that he didn't have his Explorer on hand and sits facing the right direction, forward to avoid looking at Murderface and his ridicule.

"You literally just realized that?!"

"Whatevers, you dildo. At least I amnst denyings dat I misses mine band."

"Nah, you missed him." Skiwsgaar spun around so fast Murderface almost got a mouth full of blonde hair.

"Never mention dis agains. Got its?"

"...I got it. If it makes you feel better - well, you didn't hear it from me personally- but I- we saw more blonde groupies too. Not even to like fuck them or anything, but just like, to have them around. The other guys, I mean. I- we all missed you." Murderface looked away, trying to put on a cool bravado and not look like he was outing himself but instead more like he was ratting out the rest of the band for blatantly caring as much as they did. With both now facing forward, Skwisgaar could swallow the humiliation of being told by Murderface of all people that Tori had been 'Toki with tits'.

Skwisgaar nodded, then replied, "What a weird ways to says the bands misses me."

"Whatever." Murderface leaned away again, before he spoke again.

"What a weird way to admit you dated a Toki with tits."

"Dat amnst true, Moidaface - !"

When Pickles and Nathan came back on the Dethcopter they found Skwisgaar and Murderface rolling around like idiots, fighting about who knew what - probably about who slept with more groupies. Again.

- - - - -

Skwisgaar felt a bone-deep cold that he couldn't shake off. It was Sweden 1984 all over again. In the distance, he could see the dying fires of riots from fans still upset about Dethklok breaking up. Rumbling in the sky signaled that the weatherman was correct as always, and rain should be coming in later. Despite this, Skwisgaar doesn't care.

His band is no more.

He takes a swig of the ipen bottle of vodka he has with him and looks from his high balcony as he leans forward on his arms. Everyone is trying to put out fires, it feels like.

With Murderface still dealing with the fallout in the political sphere after his nudes leaked, and Pickles and Nathan still fighting over a woman that Skwisgaar was positive wanted nothing to do with either of them, it left little for Skwisgaar to do except drink and think. He wandered Mordhaus like a ghost, except he was riddled with dread and stress. Maybe less a ghost, and more a haunted soul left to carry the burdens of mistakes made. To drink and think on decisions made.

And he's had plenty of time to drink and think since Pickles announced he was quitting the band.

To think about how awful he's been to Toki. To drink to the good times he took for granted. To blame himself on how he turned Toki's admiration, that righteous brutality he wanted to draw out and funnel into his playing - how he twisted it into an acidic poison that's corrupted into a desperate plea for validation. While Toki could have attempted to pour that angry energy into his guitar playing, Skwisgaar definitely didn't encourage Toki in positive ways.

He twisted Toki into the monstrosity that backstabbed him all for a stupid solo - which Toki bombed and was also still trying to make up for with those fans too.

" Oh hey, Skwisgahr! Mind if I join ya?"

Seeing that this was the balcony overlooking what was the Mordhaus equivalent of a backyard, Skwisgaar looked at Pickles and nodded. It's not like he and Pickles didn't hang out often, but nowadays, it felt like Skwisgaar had been left out to dry just like everyone else, while Pickles and Nathan feuded over Abigail.

"I see you're hitting the liquor early tonight."

"Heughs, I ackshualies am starting lates tonights."

"...is that so?"

"Yeahs. But amns enoughs about mes. Wants some?"

"Sure!" Pickles took the vodka from Skwisgaar and really took in the sight of the man. He felt those emerald green eyes look over him as he approached. Blonde locks looked dull, skin had a grey pallor, and unless his eyes betrayed him, the guitarist looked sleep deprived. Or at least Skwisgaar would assume Pickles could tell that from a glance - Pickles was always so good at seeing and telling right away what was wrong with someone.

"You okey, dood?"

"I wills be. Not my foirst times having a band break ups."

"Right. Look, I was actually lookin for ya, I wanted to say sorry fer -!"

"For whats? Tellings Nat'an dat he amnst right for breakings de master records?"

"No - !"

"For goings back to your moms after you tolds me you amnst let hers do whats she dids last time we dids mom talk?"

"Dood, unrelated and no!" Pickles downs almost the entire bottle of vodka like a true champ before Skwisgaar takes it back and drinks the remainder. He doesn't look at him when he produces the other bottle he had brought out with him, and he just knows Pickles is going to judge him for it - which is rich coming from the guy who was in rehab for drinking.

"I came to say sorry for being a shit friend. I was so bent outta shape about my shit wit' Nathan thet I forgot to check in with ya, especially after the whole thin' with Toki."

Skwisgaar spins around and smacks Pickles with his hair. Pickles sputters, trying to wipe his face.

"What amns you knows about me and Tokis?" he asks, popping the cork on the new bottle, before leaning to look at the dying riots in the distance, "Amns as much mine faults anyways, amns a punishments for mine hubris." He takes the bottle to his lips and takes a sip, and not wanting to not wake up hungover for Cornickelson's funeral offers the bottle to Pickles.

Pickles stands there gobsmacked before he takes the bottle away from Skwisgaar again. Skwisgaar rolls his eyes.

"Looks, Pickle. I cames here to be miserables before de funeral. I amnst in de mood - !"

"I'm not gonna stand here and see you kill your liver over fuckin' Toki!"

"It amnst over just hims! It amns de band, mine friends, mine music careers! I pours mine entire hearts and souls into dis!" Pickles takes a step back as Skwisgaar, drunk on both vodka and misery, looms over him as each syllable spills out of him.

"Seems likes I amns de only ones who amns not wanting Dethklok to breaks up, because it amns de foirst time I likes people - de fans and de label and mine friends - !"

Pickles tries to tackle Skwisgaar but becomes a hug when the guitarist wraps his arms around him; Skwisgaar pets his head and while the humiliation of the failed tackle stabs at his pride for a split second, there remains a longer burning shame for neglecting a friend who has been suffering in the shadows of the much more prominent fighting between himself and Nathan. He feel Skwisgaar's arms shudder, no doubt because the man was always somehow cold.

"... fuck, Skwisgahr - I'm so fuckin' sorry."

"I don'ts want de pity. I wants mine band backs."

"It's not pity, you fuckin' douchebag."

"What amns dis huh, Pickle?"

"Fuckin' ... shut up and just let me keep yer beanpole ass warm for a sec."

"You amns such a moms."

"So... do you accept my apology?"

"Ja, apolejacks accepteds."

"Geez, we have got to get you an' Toki to some classes - wait, I got an idea."

Tearing himself off of Skwisgaar, Pickles produces his phone out of his pocket and taps away, while clouds overhead blot out the stars. Skwisgaar decides his legs need too much coordination to keep him upright and slumps down next to the railing.

"You invites goirls?"

"No, I invited Toki."

Pickles had never seen someone try to sober up as quickly as Skwisgaar did. The man knew he was an emotional drunk, as evidenced by the hug earlier, and the half-confession, half-admission of him caring about the break up. And for some reason unknown to the band, Skwisgaar always refused to get drunk around Toki alone, or would get drunk with everyone. Pickles squinted at Skwisgaar as a suspicion began setting in; the guitarist is busy trying to make himself puke over the balcony, before looking back to the entryway to their home.

"Skwisgahr."

"Nej, dis amns terribles time, I's drunk as shits - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Calls Williams, or get some groupies - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Waits, maybes I gets sloppies and just pass out - !"

"Dood, why are you so against having Toki here?"

Skwisgaar freezes like a deer in headlights, before slumping back down against the balcony and pulling his legs up and laying his head against his knees. Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer, Pickles joins him, pulling out a joint and asking again.

"Skwisgahr, I'm askin' as a friend 'ere."

"You guys knows I amnst likings to be drunk with Toki around. Amns bad influence."

"... never stopped you from drinking and partying with 'im on ... tours..." Skwisgaar looks up to Pickles as if confused for the drifting off at the end.

Pickles looks back at him, confusion in his face.

"Now that I say it, it's like - it's with the rest of the band. Is there something else I'm not seein' here, beanpole?"

"Nothings you dildo! I don't wants him to sees de poirson whats invites him to de band to acts like... wells like drunk idiot!" Skwisgaar and Pickles both look to the entryway for a short second because they saw movement; when they see a few Klokateers come and go and one come out with ice, some drinks and glasses, Pickles continues. He thought Toki said he was close by, and he could swear on his drum set that he saw those pale blue eyes for a split second.

"What's wrong with thet?"

"Toki ands I went drinking alones once. We don't drives anymore. It were a careless act." Pickles gives him a face of realization, recalling the incident. They thought it was really awesome to see them on the news, drunk driving on live TV on a police chase. Toki shooting a gun at the news helicopter and then the crash into the barricade was the highlight. The band was excited to pick them up, even if it meant that Skwisgaar and Toki had lost their licenses to drive.

"I remember! Thet was fuckin' great."

"I crash de car. We hads de buckles on, which amns goods but..."

"Oh yeah, so... you really care thet much?"

"Toki ... he amns like music... soul twin. He amns differents. I's be a dildo to not says dat. I has been dildo to hims. Amns why I amnst mads about de book, I's mad it took a book to sees it. I deserves it for not appreskiatings Toki's skill. "

"... this is the first time I've ever heard ya talk about the kid in a nice way. But I've seen ya, Skwisgahr! You care, like, a lot."

" You amnst foirst to tells me dat." Pickles lit a joint up and passed it to Skwisgaar, who took a good puff out of it.

"Pickle? Ams Toki, I's here!"

Skwisgaar promptly started choking on the puff he took. Pickles let out a hearty chuckle. Toki waved, looking at Pickles before his eyes landed on Skwisgaar. The kid seemed nervous. Apprehensive about approaching them, and for a second it felt like he was watching a rabbit approach a wolf in its den. Maybe his eyes hadn't played tricks on him earlier.

"Amns you been arounds a long time?!"

"Nei? I's uhm, I's justs gots here." After composing himself from what looked like a potential heart attack, Skwisgaar passed the joint back to Pickles, who made a huge wave of his arm to make Toki sit down. He took a small puff then passed it to Toki once he finally sat across from them.

"So, Toki. Heard ya leaked the nudes that killed Murderface's political cahreer."

Skwisgaar leaned in, and so did the others. "If you dids, Toki, I says you dids de woirld a favors. No ones in politics amns taking bads nudes like dat."

Pickes let out a loud howl of laughter as Toki giggled.

"...amns you been drinking, Skwisgaar?"

"Ja, amns been rough wit ... Nat'an and de new music he amns doings. It's dildos." Pickles gave him a disapproving look, but Skwisgaar would rather go back to Sweden than talk about why he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Nat'en ams needs to apologise to Pickle. It ams wrong what he did." Pickles raised the vodka bottle he had managed to get without much moving and then drank. Toki took it next after passing the joint to Skwisgaar, who snatched it from him.

"Nej, amns bads for yous."

"Pickle!?" Pickles smacked him on the arm.

"Fines."

"Play nice, both of ya."

"Skwisgaar started it."

"Toki, we all need apologize. I came to say sorry to Beanpole here." Skwisgaar felt himself shrivel up, as Toki looked at Pickles with curiosity.

"Whats about?"

"Eh, another time, kid. But I think, before we get crazy here - ya both need to clear up some shit. I'm gonna get Murderface, he just texted thet he got lost."

Toki asked why not text him again, like he did with him as Skwisgaar flopped on either trying to pull Pickles back down or freezing up.

As Pickles vanished, Skwisgaar felt too drunk and too aware and in his skin all at once. His eyes locked with Toki, and he immediately slumped back on the balcony railing, opting to grab the abandoned bottle.

"... yous not just drinking because of Nat'ens, ams you."

"Amazings brain usings, Toki. De skies amns blue too, you knows dat?"

"Okei fucker, whys Pickle says dat and leaves me wit your sour pusses?"

Skwisgaar didn't respond. He took the bottle to his lips, dipped his head back and drank. And drank. And drank. And drank --

"Stops! You amns gonna kills your liver!"

'I's not drunk or highs enoughs for dis."

"For whats?!"

He looks at Toki, who looks lost and afraid. He's not seen Skwisgaar hit a low like this, not even when he lost the endorsements after the book published, or his career was pulverized into pieces. Last time he saw Skwisgaar this drunk was the night they got arrested for drunk driving. He thought about how things were different then, how simpler their dynamic was, how easier it was to trust his band, to trust Toki.

How he took it all for granted.

"I's sorries, Tokis. You amnst deserves dis."

"What ams you talking abouts?!" Toki pulled himself closer; Skwisgaar's eyes drifted away from those pale blue hues and to Toki's hands. Those hands that he had been trusted to write for. To care for. To cherish and to play music with.

He sighed.

"You needs to talk to mes when I amnst fuckeds up. Meets me at de bar after de funerals?"

Toki, looking at him with concern and apprehension and some suspicion, nodded in agreement. Pickles came back and told them it would be a few more minutes, and Toki volunteered to go with him.

Skwisgaar cracked a small smile. Toki did too. Pickles looked at Skwisgaar, and he gave him a sloppy thumbs up. Pickles gave him one back.

- - - - -

The first thing he felt was cold. It was a common thing to feel when he didn't remember the events leading him there. Stiff and sore, he took an attempt to slip back under because being sober was awful.

Was that puke on his face?

"...eurgh.....hrmph..."

He pulled himself out of the tangle of hair, limbs and liquor spilled on and around him before he grabbed a bottle. Surprisingly, it still had alcohol in it, so he took it and a semi-clean robe and wandered out of the room. Alcohol was better for avoiding sobriety this early, for now.

It felt like it was a lifetime ago that he spent his night under that cloudy night getting drunk and high with Murderface and Pickles and Toki. With the promise of meeting Toki under better circumstances after the funeral to talk.

That night he sat at the bar by himself until he couldn't sit straight anymore.

And since then, he refused to stay sober.

It was easier that way.

And when alcohol wasn't doing it, he began to raid Pickles' stash. When Pickles cornered him, he lashed out and finally went out and found himself back on the streets of 1999, chasing a high that he promised to leave behind.

Pickles finally came to him in hysterics when he threw out his Explorer, a book he wrote some music ideas on, and a few CD cases he had stashed Toki's old guitar riffs on. Pickles only knew Skwisgaar was doing it because a CD hit one of the groupie sluts he was talking to in the backyard.

Skiwsgaar was so high on meth that Pickles had to get Murderface and Nathan to help him bring the blonde inside. It didn't take long to see that the guitarist was not drunk but high and less time for Pickles to see what it was when he saw track marks.

"I's not gonnas get lectures from you Pickle. You wents to rehabs for dis." Stunned at the remark, Murderface and Nathan watched as they both had a shouting match until both stormed off. At least Skwisgaar stopped taking meth.

That was last month.

Or last week.

Or was it last year?

He lost track of time.

It didn't matter anymore. Not without Toki.

Skwisgaar picked up a pastry in the kitchen and listened as they talked about using a new recording as part of the concert coming up. Skwisgaar nearly gagged.

"Amnst de sames."

"It'll have to do. We have recordings - !"

"Nei, Nat'an. I won'ts do its."

"Skwischgaar - !"

He threw his glass of juice at the first wall he saw.

"Fines! Dos whatever, fucking dildos."

He shoved the pastry into his mouth before they said anything and walked off. Stumbling, like a toddler just learning to walk. He makes it to the entry of the kitchen as he hears Pickles finally pipe up.

"What the fuck is Skwisgahr's problem now?"

"He, uh. He doesn't want recordings."

"... did I ever tell you guysch about the girlfriend he had in Sweden?"

Immediately, Skwisgaar turns on his heel and comes back into the kitchen and makes a dive at Murderface, until Nathan tackles him and tosses him against a counter. Pickles makes a dash to get out of the way as Murderface slowly lowers the arms he instinctively raised in his defense.

"Yous amns fuckings dildo lickers! You fuckings-- you amnst GETS ITS!"

And while his silent cries and tears didn't make sense that day, a week later when he quietly held Toki in the Dethcopter and whispered all the things he didn't get to tell him at the bar the day of the funeral, they understood.

- - - - -

Cold.

Something about the Arctic cold that made bones creak. It made joints crack like glass. Fingers ache. Skwisgaar hated it. Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was the cold, still.

How long had it been since they had first stepped onto Danzig? How much had changed since then?

His head throbbed, the ground wobbled -

A warm arm wrapped around his middle before his knees gave out.

"Shit - Toki, come help with yer brother!"

If Skwisgaar wasn't on the verge of puking his guts out he'd chew out Pickles for calling on Toki to help him. With Murderface on his right side Toki came up on the other, clutching Deaddy Bear as Pickles ran his hand over Skwisgaar's head. Wait, when did Skwisgaar get shorter?

"Of course Skwischgaar is a mess, he's light as fuck! Feels like a lady!"

"Yous a lady, Williams!"

"Dood, how many fingers am I holdin'?"

"Amnst blind, Pickle - !"

"No, but uh. You have a concussion. Got those in high school. Erm. A lot. I know one when I see one."

As Pickles and Nathan both talked about how Skwisgaar was going to recover, and Murderface grumbled about how no one cared about how he felt after having been possessed - all Skwisgaar wanted to do was make sure he at least made it back to Mordhaus -

"Skwisgaar?"

Toki pressed Deaddy Bear to Skwisgaar's arms, and then held Skwisgaar in a tight hug. The cold he felt began to seep out of him as Toki slowly looked up and finally locked eyes with him. He had taken a seat next to him, under Skwisgaar's arm still.

"I know it was you who carried me," he said in Swedish, "Let Toki carry you now."

"... this is a hug, Toki." Toki just hugged him tighter.

"What have I said about not speakin' English? No Snow-Speak!"

"Picklesch, its called Swedish." Toki gave Murderface a look, as Skwisgaar finally manages to hold down the Doritos they gave them in their cells the night before. He says what he assumed Toki was also thinking.

"...what de fucks amns Snows ... Speaks?"

"A schtupid term he picked up from reading ..."

Skwisgaar saw Pickles panic for a split second as Murderface stopped. Toki loosens his arms, but doesn't let go of Skwisgaar, to lean closer to Murderface, who also looks like he's panicking.

"Readings what?"

"Wowies, Mordaface, how ams you knows wes speaking Svenska?"

"I made an educated guessch."

"Yeah! Ya only speak in Swedish when - !"

"Readings what, Pickle?!"

"Uh... fans! Social media stuff! The fans think you an' Tokes have some secret language! They call it thet." Based on Nathan's own face, Skwisgaar felt like maybe Pickles was lying through his teeth. He was not going to pry further now, however - his stomach was threatening to empty itself again. Skwisgaar pried his right arm away from Murderface to clamp his mouth and then rub his stomach as he took a deep breath.

"Shit, uh. We gotta get you, mhrm, Murderface, and Charles looked at. Like, now." Pickles made a quick turn and immediately pointed at something Skwisgaar couldn't see from his angle. Sitting on the snow aside, the view out here wasn't bad. Nathan patted Pickles on the shoulder before walking in the direction he pointed. Maybe it was Charles? Pickles began walking away and talking with Nathan, before he stopped and made a motion to Murderface.

"Murderface, come help Nathan grab Charles! Looks like there's someone helpin' already."

Murderface grumbled something about suffering from success, which made absolutely no sense to Skwisgaar, but he was using the time of quiet to gather his thoughts. Toki finally, slowly pulled himself away from him and smiled sweetly.

"...Skwisgaar, I know you and I have had our problems, and I haven't made a great friend. But I mean it. Let Toki carry the weight for now. If that includes you when things get tough, then I will." Skwisgaar grabs Toki's fretting hand and rubs his thumb over the callouses there. Even now Toki is clingy, needy, affectionate, caring. And it's not just with Skwisgaar, even if it is who he does it the most with - he went to Pickles or Nathan if he needed help with anything or to Murderface for fun and laughter.

With Skwisgaar he often just sat and listened to what the Swede said, chords and strings and arpeggios the backdrop for the lessons and practice sessions in Deus Keep.

He wondered what happened in the time they forgot.

He wondered what made this Toki so clingy.

He wondered if he did something to him.

He wondered why Toki and not --

"You are thinking too loud."

"Sorry, my head is a mess."

"Speak your mind, Skwisgaar."

He lets go of Toki's hand, and holds himself in the biting cold as he formulates his thoughts. Danzig is where they both 'confessed' to their intentions going forward in their music, and Skwisgaar wanted to keep that same spirit. Here was Toki wanting to mend things - either because he felt guilty about the book or because he felt he wasn't pulling enough weight in the dynamic, but here he was ready to help Skwisgaar.

Ready to not just be an equal, but his friend.

"Toki... if you have been a bad friend, then I've been outright shit to you. You trusted me with your talent, and I squandered that. I never gave you reason enough to be excited or passionate for the music if I never let you shine. It's just as much my fault - !"

Toki launches himself on Skwisgaar, a crushing hug and then shaking shoulders. Skwisgaar panics as he realizes Toki's crying, and he slowly and awkwardly begins to rub the younger man's back as he pulls himself tighter on the blonde.

"I promise to put my ego aside from now on. Okay?"

Toki nods his head, and Skwisgaar suddenly realizes something.

"Tokis... amns you using mine shoirts to wipes your face?!"

Toki shakes his head no, but then pulls himself away and gives Skwisgaar an angry look.

"You says nice things and you worry about yous stupid shirt?!"

"It amnst a hankys chef to wipes snot off ... your - !" Almost immediately, Skwisgaar feels it and loses to his stomach, as it empties itself and he only feels Toki rub his back as he goes for a second round, and finally, his stomach gives up fighting him. Thankfully all he did was turn his face to the side and Toki managed to get his face out of the way before he whispered reassurances that it would get better once he had something to eat and some proper food and sleep.

"...the fucker exploded into red mist! Farm equipment is brutal!"

"That uh. That explains why we didn't see a corpse."

"Skwisgahr ain't doing so great too, Charles, we're gonna get ya'll checked out."

"Thanks, boys."

Skwisgaar wipes part of his mouth as Toki keeps a hand on him and the other cradling Deaddy Bear. It sounds like they did find Charles. Good.

His ears ring for half a second, before he sees Charles carried by Nathan and Murderface. Behind them is what looks like a nurse and a paramedic, and a Klokateer with a duffel bag slung on over a shoulder - if he recalled correctly, many of the non-combat Gears had been left in chapters scattered throughout cities to help in the days of the prophecy but to still see them around was --

"Wowies, a Klokateers?!"

"Lord Wartooth, Lord Skwigelf, an honor. I have some emergency first aid kits and these two medical professionals volunteered to assist with what they could. Mr. Offdensen has been stabilized and can be treated for minor injuries while we look at Lord Murderface and Lord Skwigelf."

Pickles approached Toki with a diabetes monitor and insulin kit, while the paramedic looked at Skwisgaar, and the nurse looked over Murderface. Murderface was cleared physically of anomalies, and Toki was given a sticker and insulin to make sure his levels were stable. With that, Pickles and Nathan helped clean up Charles with the nurse ans Toki and Murderface kept Skwisgaar company.

With both sitting next to him, he only has to whisper as the paramedic does some final checks and gives him some medications.

"Sos, Williams, Toki. When amns you thinkings dat Nat'en and Pickle finallies realizes de truth?"

"Truth about what, Skwischgaar?"

"... you amnst sees it!?"

Toki sticks out his tongue as he squints hard at the pair, busy trying to make sure they help. They're both helping Charles with his mangled hand, cleaning and bandaging what they can.

"...thats they sucks at doctors?"

"You amns dildos at dis. Nat'en and Pickles? De worry abohts eqch other? De way de boths amns so carings wit each other?" Murderface and Toki both let out a sound of realization, before excitement and shock creeps over both of them.

"Wait, you think they are together?!"

"That ams make it reals mom and dad?!"

"Looks, we amns smart and can sees it. We amnst idiots. We can sees what amns plains as light of days!"

At this point, Murderface looks at Skwisgaar and then Toki. Henarrows his eyes at the guitarists, as if he's expecting either of them to say something - Skwisgaar looks at him and gives him a questioning look instead.

"What, Williams?"

He just needed to find the people that wanted him first.

"You know what, Skwischgaar? You aschtound me. You really do." Skwisgaar smiled, as he realized that he hadn't felt cold for a while now. Here he was out in Danzig, in near Arctic temperatures, and he felt warm as if he was standing outside on a sunny day. Maybe he was wanted, after all.

Like Nathan, who reminded him he had more than just his guitar - he was Skwisgaar and he had his friends too.

Like Murderface, who reminded him his band wasn't just another gig, it was his friends who liked him for him.

Like Pickles, who reminded him that he didn't need to struggle alone, and apologies made people grow.

And like Toki, who showed Skwisgaar that he was someone worth trusting.

Who, despite all their up and downs, still wanted to be his friend. Who still wanted to play music with him.

Toki, who wanted to shine just as much as he wanted Skwisgaar to shine too.

Toki. His friend. His brother. His equal.

#metalocalypse #mtl #dethklok #fanfic #long fic #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #charles foster offdensen #implied skwistok #nickles #other:#felt possessed to write this #so much of this is just what. i think happened between or after big events #will post to AO3 at some point idk

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 1 year ago

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Quarterfinals, Match 3

expand to see all propaganda received!

PJ Harvey:

"She's just so real, Polly Jean with her thinness and her red lips and her talent. The woman who dumped Nick Cave with a phone call!"

"no other musician in this entire tournament has an album where there are two different songs about having an enormous strap-on. and if 50ft Queenie and Man-Size weren't enough, she followed it up with ANOTHER on her next record. stream Long Snake Moan"

Stone Gossard:

"Have you seen that jawline?"

"Would you just look at the hair, the eyes, the jawline. He's cute and funny and a guitar god. Who else could write the riff in Once? Alive? Even Flow?"

"Search for Stone Gossard and auto fill suggests Stone Golem 5e. As somebody said he looks like sexy Squidward."

"Anthony had noticed Stone's interest over the last few months. Stone was cute, with his long hair and his nimble guitar playing fingers. Anthony harbored a few fantasies himself, mostly involving Stone's fingers being put to good use. He often imagined, when he was lying in bed fingering himself, that it was Stone's fingers instead. It would leave him panting and sweating just thinking about how good it would feel. Anthony was certain Stone didn't have a lot of experience, and there were some things he would definitely be honored to teach him given the chance. He was about 90% sure Stone was a virgin. That would explain why he was so shy. The water park was small enough that they had the whole place to themselves. As both bands enjoyed the slides and the fountains, Stone found himself working up the nerve to talk to Anthony. Not that he hadn't talked to him, but he hadn't said much more than a passing "hey, great show." Anthony, for his part, was formulating a plan. He would be the one to make the first move. Swimming over to Stone, he cleared his throat. "Hey." Stone blanched for a moment but gathered his composure back. "Hey yourself." "Um, so, listen. You wanna come back and hang out after we leave here? My room has a VCR and any movie you want." Stone considered for a moment. Anthony was asking him if he wanted to come back to his hotel room? Maybe there was a God. "Sure. I guess. I don't have anything else to do. Movies sound cool." And maybe more than a movie... Later on, after the two had shared a slide and splashed each other several times, Stone riding on Anthony's shoulders in a game of chicken against Eddie and Chad, the two made their way into Anthony's room. "Alright dude, I've got Pretty Woman, Back to the Future, Ferris Bueller..." Anthony ticked off the options. "Bueller is fine. You wanna order a pizza?" Anthony nodded as he slid the tape into the player and pushed the play button. Stone called the pizza place and ordered two large everything pizzas and two cokes. Now content that they had their evening's activities planned, Anthony turned to Stone. "Listen, I didn't just ask you here to watch a movie and get pizza, Stone. I need to be honest with you. You intrigue me. You're so intelligent and sexy. Can I kiss you?" Anthony asked him. Stone, heart pounding in his chest, could only nod his head. Anthony leaned in, kissed him full on the mouth as if to suck out Stone's breath. He slipped his tongue in Stone's mouth and massaged it gently with his. Stone let out a moan, who knew you could get hard with just a kiss? Ianlilith1316. "Can't Resist." Rockfic. 1 August 2020. Accessed 21 November 2023. "

"he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my wife he’s my-"

"Clearly hand-crafted by an incredibly horny Renaissance artist. Like Botticelli. And y’know what they say about paintings…nail ‘em against the wall ;)"

"He is the queen of grunge!!! How could you not vote for him?!??!"

"A vote for Stone is a vote for Squidward."

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #pj harvey #polly jean harvey #stone gossard #pearl jam #temple of the dog #90s music #tournament

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iolaussharpe-24 · 9 months ago

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Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Chapter Two

Shoutouts to @reallyrallyauthor, @redeyerhaenyra, & @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction who are all my biggest inspirations for this story. (Grace Smith is my OC inspired by Samara Weaving. I have no experience writing 'xreader' fanfics and I have no talent for writing in the 2nd person POV.)

(I'm gonna leave this one marked as 'For Everyone' because there's nothing too explicit. Little bit of gore, but it's hand waved away. Brief mention of a sex dungeon, but no one uses it.)

Story part under the cut. Cross posted on my Wattpad page.

She knew too much about him. There was no leaving. There was only dismissal. And that would likely mean a hail of gunfire that would cut her life short in the living room before his massive bodyguards took her away to some place where she’d never be found again.

All because she caught his eye.

~ One Month Later ~

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.

It really wasn’t.

Tony Thompson wasn’t really anyone to Grace. He was just another rich asshole that did business with Mr. Vogelweide. Not even big business at that. Just gambling. As far as she cared to know at least.

He was a young man. Younger than her. It showed. He was a naïve idiot. Exactly the kind of person Mr. Vogelweide liked to work with. Someone easy to manage. Tony was the kind of guy who could be told that the sky was green and believe it without a second thought until someone else told him to go outside and look up.

Thank God he was good in bed.

Grace had started seeing Tony about two weeks after her nerve-wracking “talk” in the office. Tony had been over to the mansion to pay off a debt he owed after some high school game and Grace had been working that same day. She’d been the one to open the door for him and the one to lead him to the office.

They’d talked during the walk and found that they had a lot in common. And, once his meeting was done, they’d talked a little more and Grace had been given Tony’s number. After that they’d gone out a time or two. And they’d gotten physical with one another.

Grace couldn’t say she loved Tony – not so early in their little relationship – but she liked him. He was friendly enough. Though, it was incredibly hard to believe that someone like him could have business with someone like Mr. Vogelweide. Mostly because Tony was.… what’s the word?.... spineless. He was spineless. Like a jellyfish with no stinger. A small one that can fit in the palm of your hand.

He was the best kind of pathetic. He’d never hurt anyone. Not in a million years. He oozed affection and took every single micro chance he got to show it. He was like a clingy little kid always hanging on her leg because he didn’t want to be alone. She liked it. She liked him. A lot.

For a while, her life was good. Surprisingly good. Well paying job working for an obscenely rich gangster, a friendly and non-threatening “boyfriend” that knew how to show a girl a good time, and a free dorm room in a smaller building on the same property as the house. She didn’t have to worry about travel expenses or rent. She didn’t need to worry about a lot of things. Despite everything, Mr. Vogelweide took care of the people under him. He made sure everyone was comfortable. He kept everyone safe from external threats. (Though, protection from internal threats like Mr. Vogelweide himself was off the table.)

Of course, all good things must eventually come to an end.

The day started off normally. She went to work in the mansion, cleaning up fresh blood from the back patio where some poor schmuck tried to run and failed to get away. She found a chunk of bloody meat while she was scrubbing. It was the size of a coin. Maybe an earlobe? She couldn’t know. Instead, she wrapped it up in a handkerchief and gave it to someone else to take care of.

Afterwards, she dusted the bookshelves in the library. Snuck a few peeks at a couple of books while she was at it. Old literature that was written in German and smelled sour. She couldn’t understand a word of it besides ‘ja’ and ‘nein’ but, judging by the pictures, it looked like a sex ed book from way back when. Then she found a fake book. The cover opened to reveal that it was hollow and… contained a dildo. A very strange one at that. Shaped like an octopus tentacle. Had to be new.

From there, she went to the bedroom and changed the sheets. The white ones came off and the gold ones were laid down. Tomorrow, it would be the navy sheets, she reminded herself as she unfolded the burgundy comforter that went with the gold sheets. She took her time setting it on the massive bed. This should be a two-person job, but since she was the only one doing it, she needed to make she that everything was straight and that there were no ruffles or lumps. If the other maids were to be believed, there was one girl who apparently lost a finger for making the bed wrong back when Mr. Vogelweide was younger. Grace didn’t want to find out. She’d just gotten her nails done and she’d prefer to keep all ten of them.

She ate lunch outside in one of the smaller gardens. Óscar passed by, going to the shed to get his cleaning supplies. When she waved, he looked down his nose at her in disgust and kept walking. Clearly still upset by how he’d been treated lately. It wasn’t really her fault, but there wasn’t much she could do about it aside from what she was already doing. Which was to pretend that none of it had actually happened.

The sex dungeon was next. Good god it was a mess. Every time she had to come in here, Grace wore latex gloves on top of latex gloves, a face mask, a pair of goggles, and a shower cap because she never knew what to expect from this room. Especially after the incident. After that day, she could come into this room wearing a full hazmat suit and it still wouldn’t feel like overkill. It always took her forever to completely sanitize everything. And then she did it again just for good measure.

Mr. Vogelweide had a meeting with Tony and a few other associates that day. Grace heard the gunfire while she was dusting outside.

She went in to clean up the blood once everyone was gone and the body had been taken away. But, she quickly realized that she wasn’t alone when a pair of hands grabbed her around the waist as she bent over to start cleaning. She jumped up and turned to see Tony behind her.

“Go away, I’m working,” she told him with a smile.

He grinned and kissed her cheek. “Come on, how could I come all the way here and not say hi? I missed you, Gracie. Didn’t you miss me?”

“You’re crazy. But yes. I missed you. A little bit,” she teased. “Now go away. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“Okay, okay. Today’s… Friday, right? You get off a little early?”

“Yeah. Donut day. Get up early, get out early. Off day tomorrow. Why?”

Tony grinned wider and wrapped his arms around Grace’s slender waist. “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. And then, I’m not bringing you back until Monday morning. Just in time for the laundry. That sound like a plan?”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “That sounds perfect. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Yeah. Tonight. It’s a date.”

“Shoo.”

He laughed, kissed her cheek, and left the office so she could get back to work.

She knelt down again to clean, only to be startled by the sound of feet quickly stomping back into the room. Looking up again, Grace caught sight of Tony just as he slapped her ass and then took off running again.

“Hey!” she shouted, getting up to chase him. “Come back here you perv-” She froze in the doorway and lowered her head. “Hello, Mr. Vogelweide.”

“Having fun?” he asked, raising a thick eyebrow over the frame of his glasses.

“I… I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.” She turned on her heel and went back into the office. This time, she actually got back to work and started scrubbing the blood out of the rug.

“You seem quite close with Mr. Thompson. Is this a recent development?” Mr. Vogelweide asked, his tone light and unbothered.

Grace nodded. “Yes sir. We uh… well…. He’s nice to me.”

“Did this happen before or after our talk last month?”

She swallowed, unsure where he was going with this. “It was after, sir.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just stared at Grace through those gold lenses while she went back to cleaning. Part of her regretted telling him that. She shouldn’t have done it. For all she knew, she could have accidentally put Tony’s life at risk. But… shit, if she hadn’t there was always that strange chance that he’d know anyway. He always seemed to know everything. And if he knew and she tried to lie about it that would piss him off. And when Mr. Vogelweide was pissed off, the guns come out and heads get blown off, and then bodies get taken away to be disposed of, and-

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Mr. Vogelweide staring down at her. For fuck’s sake, that leg brace announced his every step, how was he constantly managing to sneak up on her like this? He idly trailed his fingers over the top of her head, curled her baby hairs around them, and said, “So long as you are happy, I suppose. That is the important part. You’re such a lovely woman.”

“…. Sir?”

He removed his hand from her head. “Go enjoy yourself. I’ll have Ms. Baxter finish in here. And… tell Mr. Thompson that I will cover your expenses for the night.”

She sat up on her knees and stared up at him, surprised and , quite frankly, shocked. She heard his breath hitch as he stared down at her. Which, granted, she probably should have expected from a man as hypersexual as him. He caressed her cheek for a moment, just like he had a month ago, and smiled. Not for the first time, she wondered why he did it. Was it because he wanted to make her feel comfortable around him? Was it just a sensory thing? Or… was he inspecting her? Honestly, it felt like the latter.

“Thank you, Mr. Vogelweide. You’re too kind.”

“No. I’m not. Run along now.”

Grace stood up and slowly walked away, only taking a brief moment to look back at him over her shoulder for a quick goodbye before she left the room entirely.

~ Dinner ~

Grace stood outside the restaurant, wearing a skintight black dress, with her hair pulled up in a French twist. Tony had told her to be there and ready at six for their reservation. She’d arrived early, wanting to meet him outside, but he hadn’t shown up yet.

When her phone beeped at six, she went inside without him and used his name to be seated. She was handed a menu, a glass of ice water, and a basket of hot bread was placed in front of her. She thanked the waiter and decided to wait for Tony before she started eating anything. Instead, she alternated between reading the menu and watching the door for him.

Half the things on the menu didn’t even sound like real things. And most of the descriptions sounded… disgusting. The pictures didn’t look much better. Thankfully, there were a few things that seemed normal and edible. The pastas looked good. Maybe a nice alfredo.

…. He’s twenty minutes late. He’s never been this late before. Did something come up?

She checked her phone for any sign that he’d reached out to her. No text. No missed call. Nothing on any of his socials. His last post was a week-old beach selfie of him in a speedo. Oh, and there was Grace in the background. Sitting in the sand. Wearing a bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

She zoomed in on the background, staring at her own tits for a second. Right along the edge of the cup was a circular mark on her skin. Darker than the rest of her porcelain skin. Not a bruise, she could tell that much. But she didn’t know… oh.

“Oh, shit. That’s a nipple. Jesus, that has to be why so many creepy people were looking at me that day.”

She put her phone down and looked up towards the door again. Still nothing. He wasn’t there yet. Somehow. He was usually early. Usually already waiting at the door ten minutes beforehand just so he could see whatever she was wearing before she made it in. He said that she looked good in low light. It gave the illusion that he skin glowed, according to him.

It wasn’t normal for him to be late. It wasn’t normal for him not to say anything. He’d cancelled on her before. Why should this be any different? That is, if he really needed to cancel… he wouldn’t stand her up, would he? No. He was too sweet for that. And he sounded so excited in the office when he asked her out. Made it sound like he had plans for them. And the stars had finally aligned so that both of her off days landed on Saturday and Sunday. She was the lucky one with the blessed schedule. Why wouldn’t he be here?

Did she do something wrong? Did Tony think he did something wrong? Could it be traffic? What does traffic look like where he lives? …. Where does he live? She’d never asked. He’d never shown her. When they spent the night together it always involved an overnight bag and a nice bed and breakfast he picked. Hell, her bag was packed. It was sitting in the trunk of her car. Not that it was her car; per se, it was one of the rentals that Mr. Vogelweide kept on hand for his staff. It wasn’t even a nice one. She deliberately took the car that got used the least just so no one would miss the vehicle.

God, she felt scatterbrained!

“Grace!”

Startled, she looked up to see the last person she was expecting to bump into outside of work. Mr. Anselm Vogelweide himself. She’d never seen him leave the mansion, what were the odds that he’d show up here and now?!

She quickly rose to her feet as he limped over to the table, a smile on his bearded face. Hoping to make it easier for him, she walked towards him as well, meeting him in the middle. She kept a bright smile on her face. The same one she tended to wear while working. It was… something. Fake. Wide. Joyless. She felt like a Barbie doll. Blonde and plastic with a perfect white grin molded onto her face. She asked, “What brings you here, sir? I… had no idea you’d enjoy places like this.”

“I do not leave my home often, it’s true. However, this fine establishment has treated me well for many years. More, I believe, than you have been alive.” He looked around for a moment. One person at a table for two. Two menus. One drink. An untouched basket of bread. “I thought you were supposed to be out with Mr. Thompson?”

“I am- well, I will be. He’s running a bit late. But I’m sure that he’ll be here soon. He’s never let me down before.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she spoke. To hide her fear, she kept her smile plastered on her face. She’d done this before. It was something she was good at. Hiding her emotions. Pretending to be something she really wasn’t. It kept her alive. And, before that, it got her ahead in life where she would have fallen behind.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

#anselm/oc #anselm vogelweide #fanfic

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