#my own art in my camera roll how embarrassing

[ryuki-blogs]

Adopted by a teenager doomed by the narrative, now that'd be hilarious. :'D Too bad I already signed the adoption papers myself. Get over here, boy, we're getting you a cozy furnished room with warm blankets, home-cooked meals and a birthday cake!

Tagging @chanceofcloud and @charliedzilla but feel free to join in!

last fictional character in ur camera roll just adopted u

(Yes I did do this only because I want him to adopt me. Fuck off)

tags: @cryptidwithaninternetconnection @reggie-the-inferi @gingerbreadeel24 @pickupstyx

and whoever the fuck sees this

[vhstown]

miles away

— 1610!miles morales x gn!reader

summary: Long distance is hard — even more so when your boyfriend's mom is Rio Morales.

warnings: fluff, spanish that is hopefully right??? (pls feel free to correct if not)

word count: 2k

a/n: worst eboy known to man. another miles one-shot i thought of way too late at night lmao my boy miles is STRUGGLING somewhat edited

convention boy is online.

Miles was active: the cute boy you'd met at a Brooklyn science con last year and had been talking to for the past few months — your boyfriend? He might as well be, if it weren't for the absurd distance between you two. You almost missed the call icon with how fast you tapped it, buzzing with anticipation at the thought of speaking to him again; you hadn't talked properly in so long you almost thought he changed numbers.

Riiiiiing... Riiiiiing...

You stared at your own reflection, which was frowning back at you as the call rang for longer than usual. "Convention boy" (you'd definitely have to change that soon) was probably just busy, but your day had been infinitely boring, and you really wanted to talk to him. The both of you had chatted pretty much every day after you left Brooklyn, and despite the time difference, your calls went on for hours, making conversation about school, art, the science convention you were both forced to go to, how you almost got run over for the hundredth time — nothing and everything.

Miles probably knew more about you than your actual friends. You had jokes that nobody would be able to understand even if you tried explaining them, thousands pictures saved of each other, lots of random games you played together (that you always seemed to win somehow) and so many messages where you were flirting like you were in a middle school relationship; embarrassment was a foreign concept in your chat logs. The only thing you didn't have was... Miles himself.

He was in Brooklyn, probably the most exciting place right now. Maybe it was for the fact that Brooklyn had Spider-Man, or you were getting sick of living with your parents. Either way, you were glad you were getting out of here soon; your parents hadn't told you much, but you knew you were going to New York for school. That meant you'd be closer to Miles. Maybe you could even meet up — if Miles picked up, that is.

Beep, beep, beep!

The line went dead, and you were left staring at your own string of messages. They were read, but there was no response; he was ignoring you. Did he just... give up on you, or something? Was he no longer interested? Surely not... Should you try calling again?

He was offline now, and you flopped on your bed with a groan. It had been a whole week since you'd even texted — surely he'd let you know if something was up? It was late in New York right now, but that hadn't stopped him before. Maybe you'd try again tomorrow; he couldn't be available for you all the time.

That didn't stop you from being petty, though.

Missed voice call at 10:29PM

k Read 10:31PM

You gritted your teeth when you saw that it had been read, stopping yourself from typing another text as you rolled on your side, throwing your phone out of sight. Maybe you should ghost him — okay, you were definitely just being petty. He could still have a reason for being radio silent for so long that you just didn't know about.

The lack of his voice or even just a "hey" made you miss him, though, and the pillow you held just made your arms feel more empty than usual. You were being a little unreasonable, but you hadn't exactly had the best week. Maybe you should leave his contact name as it was, because right now it seemed like he didn't want to be anything more than some kid you met at a convention. And you thought he was supposed to be your boyfriend—

Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! You reached for your phone, a preview of your own face coming up on screen. "convention boy" — he was video calling you? That was weird; as much as you did video call, he was always reluctant to turn his camera on, and he never started them. He was always "on a run" or on low battery or something; maybe he wasn't today? You realised you'd been staring at your own face for too long, scrambling to fix yourself up a little and accept the call before you missed it.

Miles' face appeared on screen; he had his headphones on, brows drawn together and eyes fixed somewhere else for a moment, before he looked back at his phone. He gave you the tiniest wave and that wonky smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Hey," you muttered, hating the fact that you probably didn't sound as mad as you wanted to be. "What's up with you? You okay?"

Miles just nodded silently, giving you another smile that looked more like a grimace before glancing off to the side again. Weird.

"...Are you sure?" you asked again, raising an eyebrow at him. Whatever Miles was trying to convince you of was completely thrown out the window, his lips pressing together in debate before he mouthed something. You couldn't make it out.

"Uh, what?" You squinted at the screen, your brows drew together even more in confusion.

"I'm GROUNDED," he mouthed again, his own brows raising to emphasise what he was trying to say. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

"You're GROUNDED?" you mouthed back, trying to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your face.

It didn't help, Miles' eye twitching a little in embarrassment as he mouthed back "YES!"

"So you're like, grounded grounded?" you continued to mouth, making Miles narrow his eyes at you. "Like, actually grounded?"

He didn't seem to entertain your mockery, just crossing his arms at you and moving away on his chair. His phone appeared to be propped up on his desk, and you caught a glimpse of his textbooks in the corner.

You gave up, rolling your eyes. "Fine, fine, but you can't like, speak at all?"

He shook his head, before you heard his door creaking open. The camera immediately went black as he shoved his phone underneath the textbooks before you had a chance to say anything.

"Mijo, what are you still doing up?" You could recognise the voice as his mom's. Oh boy.

"Uh, just studyin', ma." You could tell he was lying by the way he was speaking, but you stayed silent despite his headphones, hoping his mother didn't catch on.

"You better be studying Español, then." Miles laughed awkwardly in response, but you couldn't tell if it was a joke or a threat. He'd only ever referred to you as a "friend" to his mom, so you turned off your camera just in case, hoping Miles had some God to pray to in the mean time.

"Yeah, uh, estoy estudiado—"

"Estudiando", she corrected, with rapid execution. You decided she was scarier in Spanish, and Miles seemed to as well, murmuring something in apology you couldn't catch.

You decided to look through your notifications while Miles was keeping his mom at bay to see that he actually had texted you back after you sent that very creative message.

sry im grounded

i dint mean 2 ingore u

dnt be mad pls :(

He must've resorted to calling you. At least your pettiness had worked.

"Estoy estudiando..." (I'm studying...) you heard Miles continue carefully. "And tired, so I'll go to bed soon."

"That light better be off, niño," (boy) she replied, and you heard the door faintly creak again. A few moments passed before you heard Miles' chair move and the door very quietly shutting all the way before he retrieved his phone and looked down at it from his lap. You had no idea what on Earth Miles had done to get grounded, but the way his mom spoke to him and the worried expression he was wearing right now didn't tell you anything good.

Miles looked back at his door for a second longer before picking up his phone, hesitantly preparing to say something. If it weren't for your own tension, you would've probably laughed at the way his face looked from that angle.

"Why's your camera off?" you heard him whisper, his worried expression still stuck in place.

"Do you really need to see my face?" You decided to tease anyway, despite his predicament, getting a sigh out of him.

"Ba—" He winced as he caught himself, eyes automatically trailing to his door again. Miles was lucky he couldn't see your amused grin. Baby? Babe? Hopefully not basta—

"Please?" he mouthed, almost looking hurt.

You turned your camera on so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You also prayed it was dark enough for him not to see the blush burning away at your cheeks; you just couldn't say no when he looked at you like that.

"Thank you," he nearly whispered. He let out another breath, shaking his head and smiling before mouthing something you couldn't make out.

"Huh?" you asked way too many times as he tried to mumble it a little louder. Both of you were too stubborn to end the call, so it was like playing charades, but with someone who really sucked at charades. He was pointing to his face, and then at you, and then trying to draw it out in the air.

"Just text me," you sighed, letting out a slight chuckle at his defeated expression.

you look cute

Your stomach flipped, cheeks tingling with warmth again as you stared at the text message for far too long, almost forgetting Miles was in the corner of your screen.

"...Thanks, you too," you mumbled out, hoping you didn't sound too weird over the call. "You sure you don't wanna just text...?"

na

wnt2 see ur face

n hear u speak

A part of you wanted to decline right now out of sheer self respect; you were so hot in the face by his... simple words that the darkness of your room definitely couldn't hide how flustered you were.

"Fine," you murmured, trying to keep your eyes on the screen as he watched you. "Can't you at least try to text properly, though?"

Miles frowned, and you could hear the gentle tap of his fingers on the screen as another text followed.

tryin 2 keep up w u gimme a break

The two of you shared a smile before you talked for a bit through this awkward system. It was good enough for now; at least Miles didn't have to watch his back so often.

ur cute

"You already said that..."

cutie

"Dude." Miles seemed to forget you could see him, sporting the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he scrambled to keep texting you.

dont call me dude

my pride

thought we were passed that

past*

convention boy is typing...

hol on gank is txting me

"Gank...?"

romm mmate

You decided to let it be, watching Miles' cheeks puff with air as he switched over to text his "romm mmate". It was taking a little long and you didn't want to start missing him when he was right in front of you (albeit just on your screen) so you decided to talk anyway.

"Uh, there's something I wanted to tell you," you started, and Miles' eyes flicked upwards for a second, kind of like if you were actually sat opposite him.

"I'm moving states soon — for school." He raised an eyebrow, the tapping of his fingers slowing down a little. "New York. I don't know where exactly, but I should be getting an email soon? I was thinking maybe we could like... meet."

Miles stopped texting entirely, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face.

"After you get uh, un-grounded."

The smile faded just as fast. His eyes fell in defeat, lips twisting awkwardly as he got back to texting "Gank".

"I haven't checked my emails in a while actually, let me see..."

You scrolled through your email— well, it was a shared email (an email you often deleted a lot of school-related stuff from.) An email you'd missed ages ago caught your eye; you assumed it was from the school you were supposed to go to, the sender titled "Ms. Weber."

"We would like you welcome you with open arms to our academy..." The email bored you with its formalities and packing list and many many flourished attachments. You didn't read through it properly — most likely because you didn't want to face the fact that you might actually miss your home here.

What caught your attention, though, was the school name; it was in Brooklyn. Miles was in Brooklyn.

"Miles — the school's in Brooklyn, that's even better!" You couldn't hide your giddy smile, Miles' eyebrows raising in interest as so many thoughts swirled through your head. You could actually meet up again. Maybe you could even go on dates that weren't to do with science conventions. Maybe you could actually be a couple.

Bzzt! Miles' text appeared at the top of your screen.

what school is it?

"Uh..." You paused, unintentionally dramatically as you checked the name again. "Brooklyn Visions Academy."

"WHAT?!"

Miles' mouth went agape as you saw him roll back on his chair, bringing his face towards the camera to look at you almost hysterically. You were about to ask why he was so taken aback before—

"¡MILES! ¡¿CON QUIÉN ESTÁS HABLANDO TAN TARDE?!" (WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO THIS LATE?!)

Maybe your meet-up would have to wait a little longer.

🕸️🔭🎧

omg this was ... longer than expected anyways i could not get this idea out of my head haha i wrote it partly for myself and my friend chewy (who helped me w the summary ily i suck at em) and now its for u! hope u enjoyed (also if the spanish is weird pls correct i literally take spanish as a subject but i suck)

reblogs appreciated as always i get so happy when ppl reblog lol <3 catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[potato-lord-but-not]

anon bc i’ve already said this to you an embarrassing amount of times but:

i literally adore your art style so much. like it’s genuinely so cool, i love how you draw noses and eyes and hands and bodies and clothes and just everything in general??? DHDNCJJDSKSKKS it’s so scrumptious and delicious and delectableeeeeee!! i’ve shown at least 3+ irls your art when they asked me what inspires my own art style. also your COLORING is just so wonderful, i want to get new markers bc mine are old and crusty and NOT satisfactory for trying to color like you :) every few weeks i just go through your blog and look at ur art and smile and giggle and squeal and kick my feet like a schoolgirl except instead of talking to my crush im just admiring your drawinfs

okay yeah i think thats it <3

p.s. i think i have like over 300 of ur drawings saved to my camera roll in a whole album and i like to look at them when i get uninspired because ALL of ur art is so awesome and cool and (the sniper in the tree outside my window takes the shot)

GAHHH TYSMMM teehee I’m so glad my art can inspire you so much <33333 I hope you’re treating my babies well in your camera roll <33

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Love your writing and your blog!! 💞

It’s a little bit ways out 😆 but how do you think modern!era Basim would celebrate Valentine’s with his s/o?

Thank you so much queen!! <3

Modern!Basim Ibn Ishaq - Valentine's Day headcanons

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!Reader

Word count: 615

He’s a romantic at heart, so he loves having a good reason to shower you with affection (not that he needs a reason to begin with).

Valentine’s Day with Basim is kind of like any other day, since he’s always trying to woo you. The only difference is that this time he has an excuse to buy you more things than usual.

He’s the type of person who tries to look cool and scoffs when he sees Valentine’s Day merch in every shop, but gives in and buys lots of stuff anyway.

Basim, with 5 bouquets of flowers: “I’m a victim of consumerism.”

I hope you like sweets because he’s going to buy you lots of those. You could go into hibernation and live off of candy if you pleased.

“That box of chocolates you got me was really good.”

“Would you like more?”

“I’m good–”

“Here’s 10 more.”

Truth be told, he enjoys spending time together more than exchanging gifts. Breakfast in bed, a picnic with homemade food and stargazing are some of his personal favorites (you’ll have him wrapped around your finger if you do all three on the same day) (he’ll be all yours for the night).

Anyways–

Yes, he gets changed for the sake of your date (thank God). He ditches those cargo pants and wolf shirt in favor of a more formal attire.

He also cancels all plans for the day. Valentine’s Day is all about you two, and being so sickeningly sweet to each other that Shaun gags at the sight of you. Basim presses kisses on your nape whenever he can, and the Brit can’t help but retch like a cat trying to hairball.

“Step back I think I’m gonna vomit–”

Basim is kind of quiet, so you fill the silence. You’re at a picnic, ranting about one of your interests again when you hear the shutter of a camera, and see Basim pointing his phone at you. He’s snapping pictures of you when you’re not looking and adding them to his folder.

“Apologies, songbird. What were you saying?”

(it’s all pictures of you sleeping, working, or dancing. You try to get him to erase the more embarrassing photos, but he says they hold a special place in his heart)

Speaking of photos, he keeps his favorite in his wallet. It’s a Polaroid photo of you snuggled up on the couch as you read. He shows it off to anyone who is willing –or unwilling– to listen.

For the love of God, don’t take him to an art gallery. He’s an art critic with incredibly high standards and will not hold back.

“Is this what people call art these days?”

“It’s just a banana taped to a wall.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Sir, please stop ripping the artwork.”

Gives you lots of pet names throughout the day. He usually calls you “my dear”, but when February 14th rolls around, he goes all out. You’re his dear, but also his beloved, his sweetheart, his soul.

He’s always touching you – a hand on your lower back, your fingers laced together, his knuckles caressing your face... He’s like a leech for the next 24 hours.

You spend the evening baking some muffins and watching a movie. You’re sprawled out on the couch, limbs tangled together; and eventually, you become more invested in his touch than whatever bank the characters in the film are trying to rob. Things grow steamy as you kiss in the privacy of your own apartment, with no Abstergo agents barging through your door, and it’s difficult to hold yourself back when you feel his smirk against your lips.

You decide how to end the date. He won’t complain either way👀

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 36: Fear & Delight (2)

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: There's a third theme the performer adores that ties alienation and abstraction together so very nicely…but there comes a point where technology cannot be distinguished from magic.

Author's Note: The title song and breaks is Fear & Delight by The Correspondents. The song within the chapter is Autocorrect by KONGOS.

I've decided after much debate that I don't care if that's not how the Sharingan works. My city now. I've had this idea for so long and only death will stop me now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was not my own volition, but I fell in deep

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Betwixt a thumb and index finger is pressed the thin, prickly stem of a leaf that stood out to Deidara from the crowd— er, pile. Most others by this time are a dead, dull brown...but this one...—

He hums to himself, eye glinting in late autumn sunlight, the barest glints of it that stream from thick, darkening clouds.

—This one is quite the charmer. Bright orange, little splotches of fungal black. The sculptor, in his boredom, rolls the stem between his fingers in order to flip it, observe all the edges of this arboreal waste. It’s familiar, somehow...why?

In the blurs of distant vision, he sees a silhouette approach from behind his latest study. The unmistakable woman in the flesh, sauntering up to his seat on the porch, bundle of sticks held behind her back. Ah...that’s why. He smiles at her.

“Takara-chan,” he asks, lowering the object in his hand. “Whatcha got there?” And so predictably, she sputters; even with a boost in her confidence and a kick in her step, there is no stopping the inevitable. Art is an explosion just as much as Takara will take a step back before thinking of going forward.

“I— uh…” The shift in her body language, the locking of her knees, makes it clear to Deidara she didn’t expect to be asked. “They’re...branches.”

He blinks and repeats the obvious word. He tries to communicate in gaze alone to not be so embarrassed, darling, but she doesn’t get the memo, heating up in the face instead. After more stammering, his other hand reaches up with a ‘come hither’ gesture. “Yeah? Come on, Takara, what are they for? Unless you fancied yard work all of a sudden.” She shakes her head, taking a seat on one step lower than him, turning at the waist and bringing them to her lap. All of a sudden, seeing lines of various colors all bundled together so daintily in her arms...the purpose is clear.

“Ahhh,” he mutters, “I get it. It’s nearly a bouquet you got there, un.” Indeed it is. Different shades of wood and decay, yellow grasses and swallowing moss. She smiles. No, Deidara thinks...not quite there, not quite the kind of grin he's been aiming for...—

“I don’t really have...a use for them. But, man…” and the woman’s voice upturns, lifting his spirits too; her attitude is contagious. “This season is so pretty! And I...don’t really have a way to memorialize it…” The woman's fingers fidget, a bit of bark detaching from one of the squatter sticks in the bundle, allowing crumbles to rest upon her dress’s embroidered folds. It’ll be quite interesting if Sasori catches her treating his gift like this, Deidara notes with amusement. But she continues, causing his gaze to flicker back up.

“I don’t really...have a camera like I used to.”

“Ah?” Deidara blinks as he repeats the soft exclamation, grin slight but unwavering. “We could get a photographer, if you’re really so inclined…” He really isn’t; immortalization of things isn’t really his style, after all, but if the lady wants it…

But her brow furrows. “Well— I don’t think that’s necessary. I wasn’t really thinking��” And her grip tightens; she hesitates, for some reason, and a mouse's voice gets even quieter. “...Never mind.” But that just won't do.

“...You should know better than that, Takara-chan.” Her surprise is delicious, no matter how calmly nor slowly he reaches over, stealing what appears to be a thread of golden wild wheat from her bundle. An idle, painted ring of blue watches it bounce with the slight breeze in the air, since she so obviously wants to hide from eye contact. “You know that I want to know everything.”

Practically purrs at her, and a wary heart races. She’s already shared so much; why does this feel more dangerous? With a swallow, she tests the water:

“Deidara...what are your cameras like?”

Eye narrows, most of the new length of his growing grin hiding behind his bangs. “Big, bulky things. Ungraceful. Haul them around and make you stand so verrry still.” It’s a real talent of his, making even disdain sound playful, admirable. It’s like he finds meaning in everything and anything.

“W-w-well.” Ohhh, she’s stuttering even worse! That has to be a good thing, he imagines. It means he's onto something. “Ours— uh. Mine. Was…”

…

“...I should just show you.”

That’s not the answer he expected.

A minute or two later, the woman's love letter bag replaces the spot of the sticks on her lap, heart-shaped button coming undone so she may reach inside and withdraw…

“...Ohh,” the artist hums, though he has to pretend he hasn’t seen this item before. “What a strange thing you got there.” That's one word for it. The object he found the morning he nosed his way into her bag of secrets. Deidara observes once again how it looks black and glassy on one side, while the other side is a matte, sunny yellow, slightly pliable to the touch. The woman looks at it like she's trying to explain brain surgery, frowning and stalling.

“This is...uhhh…”

But all the patience in the world will allow him to wait. There is no way she is getting out of this one. She begins to see that, worming her way back to coherent sentences.

“This is...well. It’s a lot of things. But it’s my...camera.” Her face gets redder, and abruptly shy eyes flutter and scurry away from his scrutiny even more. It feels like a mistake; is this a mistake?! “Was. My camera.” And suddenly the blackness of the glass takes a new meaning. The man observes the stranger exhale, long and hard as she attempts to let go since she's already made it this far, sharing her reality. This is, after all, a piece of her. Silly, but it really is. 

Sitting alone in the dark, curtains drawn and a rectangle of white light streaming onto her face, it was a lot of her, in the worst of days.

A firm shake of the head and the woman returns to the present. “It doesn’t work anymore. Not since I got here.”

This was so much more than he signed up for, in the very best of ways. That azure eye pops wide, wide, wide— wide enough to swallow every millimeter of the block’s surface in. “That…?” he marvels, breathless. “That's really a whole damn camera…?!”

She nods. And then...she offers it, lowering her wrist and showing it glassy side up. Yes, she has to let go, in more ways than one. Her world isn't coming back; it was apparent the third or fourth hundred time she fruitlessly pressed the power button. “You can hold it. Just. Doesn’t do anything.” Release be damned, it's still all she's got, so attachment can't be eased so readily.

Deidara doesn't pick it up right away, instead glancing up to observe how she appears. Her expression is tense, gaze down onto the camera but still somehow distant, like it's a looking glass into the other dimension, deep as the night sky without stars, as she describes to be born of. She hardly shifts as he holds it, delicately and with an alien sense of observation. A dark painted nail slides into the corners of the barrier, where yellow and black meet. He notes the very small amount of give—

“Hey!" The traveler quickly bites back her tongue, stammering once more as she tries to explain what he's doing. "Uh—”

“Mm?” He’s halfway into prying the case off. It’s dead, for god's sake; why does his inspection make her so antsy?! She has one pretty damn good guess:

“I—It’s…” Gently, the technology is taken back so soon, just before Deidara could make something out of it. “It’s...one of the only things I have left," she whispers, almost ashamed. "From home.” And without another thought, the phone is slipped into the bag and sealed up, protected once more and held close to her torso as he shifts to hug the bag, bouquet aside and forgotten. “It used to be how I...communicated with people. ...Better. I mean.”

Oh, goodness me. The rumored power she has, the one that no one has questioned, pried upon despite how much it's a box begging to be opened. An eyebrow raises and he tilts his chin up with keen, serious interest. “This...infinite knowledge I’ve heard of.”

…

And the woman nods, but only after great consideration. Her knees bend up so she resembles a pill bug a bit more, hunching around her few possessions. “Of a kind. But it’s like going to a library; you gotta find yourself what you want. Know what it means. And if you don’t...look for the answers in another book, or ask the librarian.” …Is this analogy even any good? It sort of feels trite. “...You know what I mean?”

His mouth purses, lopsided.“...Kinda,” he shrugs. Truth is, she's right: “Hard to get it without more concrete description, un.”

...And she sighs again. All of a sudden she’s an open book herself, but it isn’t the kind of story Deidara expected.

“I wanna tell you something." This is the most confident the stranger has ever sounded to him. "I’ve...felt bad. I’ve felt guilty that...seeing people die in front of me has fucked me up so much. When. When...it meant nothing to me to see it in movies. You remember how I described them.” Hard to forget; she’s really good at detailing the various innards of the massacred and how they came to be separated from their bodies. “Part of me is like...that’s terrible! That’s terrible you have that...disconnect.” A blink and she's back in her room again, refracted red of a closed curtain falling to her feet as she leans against her bed, sitting on the floor. A thumb twitches and she's scrolling through another blog, another story that depicts agonies and atrocities. That's bad for you, she hears a loved one say, the first time she so excitedly explained her new favorite movie. You shouldn't be doing this.

But, Deidara thinks—

“But," the woman says.

And he holds his breath, so pleasantly shocked she’s beating him to the punch.

“But stories...art...that’s different. What would we be if we only thought about happy things? It’s impossible, that’s what I think. We’d all say we think about happy things, and then keep this terrible, horrible secret that we don’t. That’s...honestly my world is kind of halfway there. Halfway to...not admitting, once ever, that they can be unhappy.” But the times where she reached out and read those books, saw those films, flipped through those comics...those were what allowed her to introspect, even about things in real life not nearly as awful yet hurt so much more. 

And for a final time, she's back on the beige carpet floor. A chat message pops up from the new group chat she was invited to, over screenshots of that old movie her dad told her not to see, and it refers to something she had just said, so shy and afraid of being wrong. The blue bubble tells her, in all capital letters:

YOU GET IT!!! <3 <3 <3

And underneath the palid glow of a lonely woman's phone, she smiled. The past fades and though now she wears a white dress and a rose-clasped cape, that smile remains, the budding dreams of comradery and joy. Finally, finally, a soft gaze rises and meets Deidara's, a small giggle in her throat. "You get it..." she hopes, so sweetly it makes him wonder where all that sugar came from, "...Right?"

Despite the subject matter, this is the most delighted the artist has ever been in the presence of this performer. He nods in agreement. "I understand completely."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By running the distance I'd been advised to keep

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“And like...we have to embrace it! We have this technology...we have to let it enhance the abstraction of these concepts! We have to let ourselves think and imagine and SEE! We have to...talk about the representative. Not just the literal.”

They’re taking a lovely walk, kicking aside dead leaves and walking under bare trees. She nervously asked to hold his hand to not get lost, and he allowed. He enjoys the way her arm swings his as she talks so much.

“Like...it helps us...think about ourselves. It helps us...process things. I uh. I had some fucked up things happen to me, you know?” No, not the killing herself thing. That counts but even before then. “And it...meant a lot to me once I saw media that talked about it back to me. Like a mirror, both objective and more subjective, somehow.”

…

The woman notices he hasn't said a thing

“Deidara? I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’ll get to the point—”

“No.” And his voice is soft, softer than she's ever heard it, and though he always smiles, this time feels different. “You’re doing marvelously, un.”

The swing in their arms is now a bit because of him, and he strokes the back of her knuckles. Perhaps it is okay to be getting far too comfortable with someone so unknowable.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I trot to the wolf as a doting sheep

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“And it went...ah...shit...!”

A pan down from skies cloudy and angry and gray-indigo, below which sit two artists. The lakeside is so different now than last they were here together, discussing the arts, the top of the water scummy and swishing about the crumpled paper dropped from trees. The frogs still sing, but there aren’t as many, and the crickets have crawled underground to begin hibernation. The woman holds her chin, grumbling frustration while Deidara holds his tongues about how adorable she fucking is; he's going to save that for later, at a more ample time to get her back for telling him he makes a face when he's concentrating. But for the first time since the hour-long conversation started, he’s starting to feel annoyed as well. All these things...miraculous and bizarre and incredible...verbal description only gets you so far. Damn shame that camera of hers is broken, unable to show him these things, let him hear the kinds of sounds she says don't exist here. Now all he gets is a second hand account, and she’s so clearly struggling.

“The song went...like…” Cheeks puffed out, she raises her fists, feigning some sort of instrument he has never seen. “BUM! Bewbeh bewbewbew! BUHbew buhbewbewbew!"

The man scoffs, unable to hide how ridiculous that is. “Is that even a real instrument? Are you serious?!”

“NO!” Too loud; the lady speedily corrects. “I mean— yes! But. But. You can’t like...replicate it." Obviously not, he thinks. "Not without the real thing.” And guilt washes over her so heavily he nearly regrets teasing her so hard, getting those cute cheeks so red. “I’m sorry.”

Now it's Deidara's turn to exhale, long and exasperated. “That’s a damn shame… You make it sound like such a massive feat of musical development…” And here we are. Her making sounds like an angry cat trying to bark like a rabid dog. Surely that's not what music from her world is supposed to be like.

Seeing him react this way, unable to hand him what she loves so dearly without making it seem stupid...how can it be helped but to become deeply sad? Helpless and unable to set free the unimaginable from her soul and put it right into his head.

...

...

Until.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's wrong, but I want you tonight

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

...Until he sees her again, stepping forward from behind the wall, just as he enters the house from the back porch. She’s beaming, and so reflexively, he beams back! After a conversation like theirs, it can't be helped. But just before he can greet her name... a sandal that matches Deidara's own steps in, too. Shit. He has to swallow back his surprise as Itachi approaches after her, piercing eyes only for the blonde. These two are very contradictory factors for the man from Iwagakure.

“Eh?" he feigns casualness, crossing his arms; perhaps this all means nothing, despite his nerves. "What’s up?”

The musician holds her hands behind her back, twisting and nearly writhing with anticipation. She opens her mouth...and abruptly turns back to Itachi; those starry eyes ask HIM for approval, something which the Uchiha gives with a silent nod. She nods back, returning to Deidara as a pit starts to sink into his stomach. “I...I have an idea," she says, and he notes how she is very much trying to keep her eye contact this time. He correctly deduces it means she is trying to convince. "But. I have to make sure it’s okay first.”

He hums, long and hard to try to guard how worried this is making him. No matter how sweet and soft and kind the woman is...Deidara has not forgotten she is a siren. As for the other man, Itachi looks...well, like he always does. But also a touch more...serious. Somehow. Yes, he always looks serious, but still—

“Takara-chan?” he asks, turning back from artless eyes to her bright ones. “Well...?” He’s not agreeing to something he doesn’t know; not this time. Not again.

“So uh. Itachi told me...he can try something.”

Oh no.

“He can help me show you—”

Oh FUCK no!

“Takara—” And this sounds more like a threat than merely interrupting her. “I don’t exactly want to give free access to my brain, darling.” A very pointed, challenging look to the Uchiha; you wouldn’t fucking dare.

But the response is simple, at least in concept: “It’s not your brain.”

His head whips around with a sharp, questioning grunt. What he sees is a woman who knocks a finger against her temple, the mind beneath. The traveler has heavily weighed these options...and whimsy and trust won over nightmares and eternal sleep. That is why she offers:

“You’ll be in mine.”

And his jaw drops. And his eye shakes in its socket. And he can’t talk. There is no choice but to watch her go on, proselytize insanity.

“That song. I can have you hear that song I was trying to describe...just as I hear it...in my own head.” Her chin tilts up; a tinge of fear lies underneath, and Deidara spots it. “I can show you. The things I see...when I listen.”

And now it’s his turn for his heart to race and stomach to flip.

“Well?”

He nearly shrieks as the magician speaks for the first time in this whole while, the sculptor jumping in place to turn to him. Itachi takes a step forward, and Deidara fights back every instinct to step back. No...not again...he does not FEAR him! The swallow is thick in his throat, tongue weighted with worry and maybe even regret. He will not...he will not—!

“You don’t have to.”

...And the meaning of the denials in Deidara’s head changes instantaneously, soon as she speaks. No...that's going about it all wrong. The real answer...the real strength...is that he will not let the Sharingan win. Even if he falls into the trap again. Even if he sees the unthinkable, dies a thousand deaths. To leave now is more shame than to not stand tall and take her hand, when she is so willing to walk into hell to satiate his curiosity. Whatever power she has beat his genjutsu, after all...and what a mighty power that must be, indeed. So all that means is if he’s willing to trust her...trust she can save him, pull him to balance as he walks the tightrope, wind billowing to try to blow him into Itachi's disgusting abyss.

Tightly— too tightly— he grasps the performer’s hand, locking his glare at the one who claims total control with his stare alone. He— yes, he does— Deidara dares him.

“No,” he states, as composed as he can be, speaking to the siren even as he turns his head away. The raven looks unaffected. “When you put it that way…” A forced chuckle. “I can’t help but wonder...un.” And directly to the torturer:

“ Do it.”

And that’s it. A low “hn” and dark eyes close. Itachi has already embraced the unwise decision to let the dreamy, thorny rose do as she pleases. At least he can make it up to her, somehow, his mistakes. At least he can share in her life, in some meaningful way, before destiny takes him and he succumbs to his own formulated vengeance. Surely that's enough to make the risk worth it. Red raises like moons in the sky, casting will upon two people at once. It’ll be tricky...but it’ll happen. He has the power, and she has the will; as long as the woman does not flounder— if she can compose herself just as she’s promised— then his universe is hers to control, project, and share. The blonde braces himself, and she’ll wonder why she has bruises on her knuckles later, if she gripped him so harshly first.

And that's it.

Black. Nothingness. Fading in is the Sharingan, not painted upon an eyeball but alone, a crimson orb floating. Take it, the woman is told. A ringless hand raises, palm facing up, until the circle is on the edge of her fingers. Hesitation...and then...—

A flash. Her hand has clasped and the Sharingan is gone.

What...

is she...

to make?

Like the aftermath of a grenade, ringing penetrates Deidara to the very core. He cannot breathe. He can't even see. Then all of a sudden, he has a body. And so does she. He stands in front of her, or her of him. The woman’s stance is tall, but she is just a silhouette, glowing light against the vast emptiness. Her dress is missing, the shape of her blurred almost like he's looking through square-pained glass. An arm raises, and she demonstrates a song. "Demonstrate" is the word...because it encompasses everything. All the world's a stage; it was before, the performer always wearing clear masks, but never before has a character in life been allowed to make the scene conform...rather than she conform to it. Big, big eyes riddled with possibilities as wide as her imagination gaze upon her own form...and then past her fingertips. A blonde man, with beautiful blue irises, fuzzy in the background of her vision until she forces herself to focus. The awe on his face feels like nothing she's ever felt before. It staggers her own breath, just as soon as she recognizes it is there.

He's waiting. Try to show him, Takara.

The ringing deepens to a hum...and then..it begins.

In the future

Will I need my mind?

The world— a world, only hers to have seen, heard, touched before, erupts from the traveler's very being. Deidara sees it. He sees it all. It’s beyond fathom. Light and dark and spectacle, overloading images and movements and faces, every angle of him seen and known just as it is here to be seen and known by him! It is surrounding, blows his hair out of place like a storm. His skin tingles as luminescence swirls and hounds around the man until he can't recognize anything else anymore, the entity encroaching over his shoulder until he can feel it is alive. She’s there. A shriek and Deidara flinches backwards. She reaches forward through static—

I’m so tired

Of using my head

But bit by bit, she drifts away so quickly. Dumbfounded, Deidara is left to feel the music in every iota of his body, every molecule and every cell. Deep in his heart, in the parts of his brain that he didn’t know he had…—

I wanna get fucked up

And then hit undo

...There it is.

I wanna be free

Of all responsibility

Rhythm and sound and melody! There are things within them that he didn’t even know EXISTED! It sounds like...like shooting stars! Spinning planets, electricity crackling in his ears! It feels like a heart attack. It feels like an injection of euthanasia. Her smile behind all the glitching screens, filters of pixels, the RBG glow and other such things he cannot name… Further and further into the oceans of data she reaches out for him to share that with no comparison outside of her own head. Real or imagination, it does not matter. She is the source of it all. She contains multitudes, and what he has fallen into is a representation of this world of infinite communication. It is so complex it is abhorrent. So consuming that it is beautiful. And somewhere in it all...every question and puzzle and opportunity one could ever find.

And if it looks like I’m about to hit the ground

I know that I won't pay the price

And he. Wants. More.

Like fairy dust the electricity dances around him, raising goosebumps on his arms. An open mouth begins to feel its lips upturn as each little piece of digital debris folds together, curls her fingers for a hungry soul to come hither. Itachi is not forgotten— far from it. Deidara is so very small...but this world is so big, both outside of him now and within the bass drumming so bottomless that it replaces the human beat within his ribcage. Blocky orange sprites fizzle around him, the woman remembering the day they flew in the clouds and chased monarch butterflies and trying to bring it back to life anew. Is this what she felt like? Or is this something new entirely?

I don't care, I don't care if trouble feels like coming around

'Cause I got Autocorrect

For life

His mouth moves as if it is the one creating this sound, like it transferred from one person to another, two spirits merely conduits— speakers— for the gospel of technology. It feels like she is giving him a promise, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Deidara is happy to be powerless.

Just so long as she's the one that's in control. To be trapped with the likes of her is such unending magnificence. Risk, in itself, is the most tantalizing thing an artist may ever experience.

Autocorrect

For life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fear and delight

All the way through the night

With a little derring-do

Oh, I'll fall in love with you

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[aragarna]

🌿💞

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Powerful! LOL no but seriously, when I first writing fanfictions, it really felt like I discovered a magic power. The power to visit my favorite universe at will. Writing means I can stay with the characters after the cameras stopped rolling. I can stay with them a little longer. Hold their hands, a little longer. And of course, I can fix things, I can imagine the future, I can imagine all the happy reunions, the happy-ever-after, the kids growing up. The AUs, the craziest crossovers.

And writing, the act itself of thinking a sentence and typing it down, it feels like a shot of endorphine. It makes me all fuzzy inside as I'm spending time with my beloved characters, just as if I was watching the show.

For some reason, it's a bit different with art. When I'm making art/manips, of course, working on a subject or with a model that I appreciate staring at is always a bonus, but generally, making art, for me, feels more like craft, manual work. Probably because (for me, who can't actually draw) it's more about mastering Photoshop tools than anything and finding the best starting material, so it feels more technical. There's a whole process, that is actually longer than the creative part of coming up with the ideas and the design. But it is also a relaxing activity in its own right, and there's a real satisfaction in looking at the finish product on my screen.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

The FEELS. Angsty or fluffy (ideally angsty then fluffy!). So I guess it's the characters, and giving them challenges to overcome. Plots (or more accurately, settings), are just a way to set that up. Even if I come up with a plot idea first - like say, what if I was writing a WC/Forever crossover - then I'd try to figure out what would make it "fun". Someone has to become immortal. There's potential for angst there. Peter's been shot, dying. Neal's desperate. Neither of them know it's gonna be fine. Oh all the usual angst. You're my best friend, take care of El, etc... And he *really dies*. But disappears. MORE ANGST and confusion and dispair! But, then, twist! Peter walks back naked and wet, embarrassed and furious. Confused and cold. Comfort, happiness, fluff, and of course, LOLz. Gotta have Diana and Jones making fun of Peter. Or, depending on my mood, I can go a more fluffy way right away. In a world where Forever and WC coexist, Mozzie and Abe *got* to know each other. They'd totally be friends. Henry would have a lot less patience for Mozzie's excentricities. BUT Mozzie would totally figure out Henry's secret. So from there I just set up a meeting. Mozzie forge fake papers, Henry would need new papers every 10 years or so.

See, it all writes itself! (it just needs a lot of rework cause I'm stuck with plot, cause clearly plots aren't my favorite parts!)

Character interactions and feelings, I think that's the main thing for me.

Though I also have to note that all those different aspects are important in the final product. I do care about grammar. I do care about finding the correct phrase, or a coherent plot/setting. And I also very very much care about keeping characters in-character.

Wow that got longer than expected! I guess those were good questions! Or maybe I'm just procrastinating LOL Thanks for the ask <3

[steveskafte]

LOW STATION It's seen as pretty conventional wisdom not to brag about what you've got, but I've been wondering lately about the value in bragging about what we don't. As someone who was born with a plastic spoon in his mouth, I've nearly injured myself from rolling my eyes at those who think that poverty is an achievement. It's just a state of being, random coincidence of birth. It says nothing about your family or character. When it came to schooling, I was a champion failure, totally checked out by the last few grades. There was no hope once I started waiting for it all to end. But it turns out that being a bad student is something you can brag about as well. Some list it under the heading of secondary education, that they're graduates of the "School of Hard Knocks" or the "School of Life" – unaccredited institutions that offer no diploma. I'm not shy or embarrassed about admitting my low station, or ashamed of coming from a long line of blue collar workers. I'm not descended from money, neither historic or present, and the only things of value I own are my car and camera. But I've never seen the point in shouting it out. Sometimes, my silence makes for strange reactions from the aggressively proud poor. Some say that I'm privileged, uppity, arrogant, or judgmental – all for not loving my poverty like them. Writing isn't my way of playing king of the hill, and I worry about anyone who uses their literacy to make that assumption. Words were my salvation from failing grades and a lack of opportunity. They made me imagine worlds beyond my own, and see possibilities past my hometown's borders. Stringing them together taught me the value of storytelling, and how to mend myself with art. You are what you make. That's a sentence I've used to define my life for over a decade. When I started my daily journal in 2007, it was as a conversation with myself – then slowly with the rest of you. The ongoing lesson I've been learning is that we don't achieve anything by gaining or earn anything by lacking. What we put into people is the matter of life. If my words have value, and my photos have feeling, then I'm something so much better than rich or poor. Now, if only I can just make rent... October 18, 2023 Culloden, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5820 of my daily journal.

[d-andilion]

If you're looking for a prompt, can you do something inspired by that vlogger comic?

Congrats and hope you're having a wonderful day ❤️

(part 1/ part 2//)

i really did intend to do something super short but i should have known better than to think i’m capable of that lol 

the art in question is this adorable modern au comic by @zellydoodle, definitely check it out!!

thank you so much for the prompt - enjoy <3

~

The next time Geralt sees his new neighbor, they’re both squeezed into their building’s tiny laundry room, neither of them looking their best. The only clean shirt Geralt had left was the lime green tank top Lambert gave him as a gag for his birthday a few years back and, based on Jaskier’s mismatched pink t-shirt and bright orange shorts, he’s on the last scraps of his own wardrobe. 

Geralt had half a mind to turn around the moment he saw Jaskier loading a machine. Call him a coward, maybe he is, but being in close quarters with the cute guy from next door after the conversation he had with Lambert last week was the last thing he wanted.

‘Conversation’ is probably generous. It was really a string of incomprehensible key-smash texts and laughing emojis on Lambert’s side and pointed refusal to respond on Geralt’s. Somewhere in the middle of it all was a link to a YouTube video from a vlogger with almost a million subscribers. A vlogger who looked very, very familiar.

Geralt didn’t even need to watch it to know what it was about. The title said it all. 

         my neighbor is so hot :(

He did watch it, of course. Jaskier was as cute in his video as he’d been that day in the hall, though admittedly less sweaty. He sat on his floor in front of a wall of fairy lights, surrounded by boxes as he uncorked a bottle of wine.

“Unfortunately, my dears, today’s tale is a doozy,” he said miserably. “If you are prone to second-hand embarrassment, I highly suggest you click away from this video at once.”

One look at the view counter beside the video told Geralt that Jaskier’s followers most certainly did not click away. There were already nearly a million views, and more still rolling in.

“Today,” Jaskier continued, filling his wine glass to the brim as he spoke, “I met the love of my life.”

Geralt would deny it if ever asked, but he may or may not have tugged the neck of his jumper up over his nose to cover his surely bright red cheeks for the rest of the video. Jaskier described their encounter—Geralt coming across him in the hallway, offering to help with his boxes, refusing an invitation inside for pizza with an excuse about meeting someone for dinner.

Jaskier seemed to think Geralt had been making up his dinner plans to get away from his “weird, sweaty neighbor”, but Geralt really did have plans with Eskel that night. Besides, he’d thought Jaskier was only offering to be polite. He hadn’t wanted to impose.

With every passing minute of the video, Geralt’s stomach fluttered with more nervous butterflies. Where he had been berating himself for his usual taciturn one-word responses, Jaskier had been adoring his dry wit. When Geralt had worried about freaking out his new neighbor with yellow eyes and ghostly white hair, Jaskier had been thinking about how “otherworldly handsome” he was. 

And the most unbelievable part of it all was that Jaskier actually thought he was out of Geralt’s league. He lamented at length to his camera as he drained his wine glass that his super hot neighbor was surely weirded out and would never ever speak to him again. 

“I mean, seriously!” Jaskier cried with more than a hint of melodrama. “How am I supposed to marry this stupidly gorgeous buff angel now?”

Since watching the video (and lying face-down on his sofa for twenty minutes), Geralt had made every effort to avoid his neighbor. His brothers harangued him endlessly for it. After all, he had a cute, single guy right next door who was definitely interested. He was basically guaranteed at least a date if he asked. Why wouldn’t he jump at that chance?

But Jaskier was famous. Internet famous, but still. His video had more than two million views last time Geralt checked, and all his pictures on Instagram (yeah, Geralt looked, sue him) had tens of thousands of likes. And if his music was anything to go by, his career was only going up from here.

As Geralt scrolled through page upon page of commenters gushing about how amazing his neighbor was, all he could think about was, how could he fit into that? Sure, Jaskier liked him now as a handsome and helpful stranger, but getting to know him could easily change that. Better let Jaskier live in the fantasy he built up in his head. Let him keep thinking Geralt is interesting and mysterious instead of… well. Him.

The universe evidently had other plans.

Now Jaskier is leaning against his rumbling washing machine, his cheeks turning the same bright rosy color as his shirt. Geralt stands across from him in front of his own machine, stealing glances every now and then between drawn-out inspections of his shoelaces. Neither of them has said a word since their cursory hellos upon Geralt’s arrival. The silence is officially awkward.

Geralt flicks his eyes up for another glance, but this time Jaskier is looking. His eyes are the most perfect shade of blue, like the sky on a clear, clear day. He smiles, a bit nervous.

“So,” Jaskier begins pleasantly at the exact moment that Geralt blurts out, “I saw your video.”

For a split second, Jaskier’s expression is completely blank. Then his blush spreads from his cheeks to his entire face and down his neck, and he throws his head back with a groan, covering his face with both hands.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters. “I’m so sorry, Geralt, you were not supposed to see that.”

“It’s alright,” Geralt says dumbly, unsure what to say, but it seems to be the right thing. Jaskier removes his hands from his face and he’s wincing a little, but at least he’s looking Geralt in the eye.

“It’s really not, but I appreciate you saying that,” he replies with an embarrassed little grin. 

Geralt shrugs. “Always nice to hear you have biceps that could bring a man to tears.”

“Noooooooo,” Jaskier moans, but he’s smiling now. He has a lovely smile. Like sunshine.

They fall into another beat of silence, but this one is more comfortable than before, like all the tension has seeped out of the room.

“So, I suppose a date is out of the question now that I’ve waxed poetic about your muscles in front of the entire internet?” Jaskier asks. He’s clearly trying to keep a casual expression, but something else bleeds through—something hopeful.

Geralt takes a breath to temper his racing heart. It doesn’t work. “I wouldn’t say it’s completely out of the question,” he says.

Jaskier’s perfect blue eyes go wide. “Really?”

Geralt tries a smile. “Is it too late for pizza?”

Jaskier grins ear to ear. “Definitely not too late for pizza.”

~~

send me a prompt!

[lostcausezz]

Feisty

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱, 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞,𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱

The air felt cold as the breeze from the cold Air conditioner gilded against your skin. Goosebumps ran up your arms as you were wearing a black slip dress and some red bottoms. You walked around the lobby of the hotel until you heard music and could feel the beats vibrate on your feet.

You walked towards the secretary and showed them the card or where you were headed. You were nervous because this was a first for you to go into a hidden club. It was recommended by a friend so how could you refuse the opportunity to have this one night to change your life. 

You followed the employee that opened the secret door and you followed behind them as they led the way. "Have fun" they said as they left you on the top of the stairwell as you could feel eyes stabbing you everywhere. You walked down each step and you looked into the VIP booths and one specifically caught your eye. 

It was a buff man with a black blouse  with a cigarette on the corner of his mouth. The look you were giving to him was returned in a glance as he put his hand in the air to signal you to follow his way. You ignored his gesture and went into the crowd where everyone was dancing or talking. 

The music that they were playing wasn't your taste so you walked up to the bar and got some Hennessy to loosen you up a bit. You gulped down the shot then placed your glass on the wooden bar table. On the side of you you saw a man with long black hair that was tucked behind his ears.

The piercings he had were satisfying to you and intrigued you. As you were caught up in his trance he saw you staring at him. "Is there something you like? You're staring pretty hard." You turned your head in another direction since you felt embarrassed.

"Oh  it's nothing you just looked pretty that's all." You felt him move in closer to you as you were hiding your face in your phone. "Can you say that while looking at me?" The feeling of his hand on your chin surprised you. 

The tension in the air was too high for you to handle as your breathing get heavier as you looked into his dark eyes that examined you up and down. You leaned into him more and then moved closer to the point where both lips met as one.

It first started off as pecks until you felt his tongue sneak into your mouth. Moans escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck until you realized you didn't know his name. "Wait what's your name?" He leaned in to you and just as the words were about to escape his mouth you felt a grip on your wrist.

You were swept away from the stranger and pulled you through the crowd of drunks and drug addicts to a black stairwell. Just as you were about to take one step up the stairs you were swept off your feet and brought into an office that looked like it belonged to the owner of the club.

A bodyguard opened the door. The site amazed you that the person you saw in front of you looked familiar. "Who are you? Also why do you want me here?" The man that seemed so short in his office chair. He placed his palms on his desk and reached up to his toes and faced you. 

You were backing up as it seemed like it would be so difficult to look into his eyes since the more you moved back the closer he moved to you. “What do you want, Toji?” His eyes widened as he leaned into your face and puffed a cloud of smoke in your way. 

“Y/n you know how much I missed you and would call you. You never picked up either plus I have Megumi to take care of and I see a dead beat of a mother like you to make out with a stranger at a club I own.” You rolled your eyes and looked over to the side as you crossed your arms. 

“It’s karma bitch.” He leaned in closer to you and you felt his hand grip your cheeks making you connect eyes with him as the tension in the room got stronger and stronger. As you pushed his hand away you approached the edge of the office where the big windows were and saw the crowd of people and the lights changing.

“Toji be honest, really why did you want me all of a sudden?” He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist as he tucked his head in your shoulder and whispered in his deep voice, “I missed you and your attitude. You know what they say toxic sex is the best kind of sex.”

You turned around and faced him as you pressed your body on the glass window and looked up into his dark eyes. Toji had a smirk appear on his face as he leaned into you and bit your ear. The thought of everyone seeing you pressed against the glass and getting your brains fucked out aroused you. 

“Your guards are still here.” Toji put his hand up signaling the guards to leave the room and give the two of you privacy. You didn’t mind people watching but the way you look while Toji fucks you is a sight only for him to see. You knew this night with him wouldn’t be forever but you had to get all you can from him.

Toji approached you and you pulled your phone out and gave it to him. “Let’s make a movie.” Toji’s face grew red from the thought of him being able to replay the video and see you begging and pleading for his dick. “Well let’s undress first.” 

As you slid your dress down leaving you in black lingerie that complimented you looked up to see Toji slowly looking you up and down examining your body as if it was a work of art.

A slight smirk appeared on his face as he walked towards you with the camera in his phone. You looked at him as he paused and an idea shot into his mind. Toji walked to his office door as he covered your top half in his blazer and asked for a guard.

You turned around and saw Toji whispering something to a guard and then closed the door behind himself." Don't worry sweetheart, a guest will be joining us soon." You turned your body around and got out of the chair and met him near the door of his office where he was waiting for his guards at.

"I'm too hungry to wait." You move your body closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck and he moves in close to you and connects his lips with yours. The feeling of his tongue clashing against yours gave you adrenaline. "Let's get started." 

Toji wrapped his muscular arms around your legs and picked you up to the point where his legs were on his shoulders and your crotch was in his face. This was a new position, a new experience and a new sensation that you wanted more of. 

Toji placed his lips on your cunt and started to suck on your clit as you held onto his head for strength. "Fuck! Toji!" As soon as the loud noises escaped your mouth you heard a heavy knock on the door. 

Toji took his lips off your cunt and yelled out to the guards. "Bring him in."

You looked up to see the stranger from the bar that kissed you come into the room. "Geto sit there and record." The name sounded familiar until you realized that it was Gojos boy. 

Toji carefully took you off of his arms and he placed you on your feet on the ground and walked to the desk. "You already know what to do y/n." You laid on your stomach with your ass out and your hands gripping the other side of the desk. 

"Your cunt is soaking." Toji stuck his fingers inside of you and pulled them out to see your juices dripping from his fingers. "I'm putting it in now y/n." You nodded, not expecting one big thrust from him. 

"FUCK!" You felt like your stomach was filled with Toji's cock as if there was a bulge in your stomach. His thrust was deep and slow as you felt each thrust inside of you. 

The room was filled with your moans and grunts toji was making. "Baby look over to Geto as I fuck your brains out." You shook your head as you were being disobedient to his demand. Toji flipped your head over to the side and you expected Geto to be on the brink of tears but instead you saw a surprising sight.

It was of Geto holding the phone in one hand and the other hand was on his dick as he jerked himself off. You bit your lip as the view of Geto turned you on. "Daddy I want more." Toji wondered what more could mean until he looked down at you and saw how your eyes were attached to Geto.

Toji felt left out as he saw you gushing over Geto and asked for him to switch places when it came to the recording. As Toji pulled out of you the corner of your eyes were filled with tears. “You’re such a pretty crier. Now get up and go suck Geto's cock." 

Your legs wobbled as you approached Geto, his eyes were stuck on your beautiful body as you almost made it to his seat. "You looked so helpless as you masturbated to me getting fucked in front of you. I would've pitied you if you weren't such a pervert." He placed his hand around your back and pulled you in close to him to the fact you were able to be eye to eye with him.

Geto's hot breath drifted past your neck and felt a chill down your spine. The tension in the room got stronger as he leaned into your ear. "How am I the pervert of you're the one yahya wet from me playing with my dick."

A smirk appeared on your face and tilted your head to the side. "Touché" Your body moved down to your knees as you were ready to make him whimper and beg for you to stop as you were going to make him come.

You lowered your body and placed your knees on the ground. You looked up at him as you wrapped your hand around his long and thick cock. Your hand moved up and down as your thumb pressed on his tip causing him to hold off on releasing himself.

You spat on his cock and quickened the pace you looked into his eyes that was filled with tears and smirked. As you were enjoying teasing him you felt a slap on your ass. "AAAH! WHAT THE FUCK TOJI!" He smiled as he saw a tear form up in the corner of your eye. 

"Y/n would you like me to fill you up while you give him head?" You nodded and you took your thumb off of the tip of Geto's cock. "Let's start with the real show." Toji placed the camera on a stand as he knew yall would be in the ⁸same place all three of yall together. 

"Aah fuck more Toj~" it was a deep thrust into you making your stomach be filled and to see a bump in your stomach. You felt like you were getting distracted from the task in front of you so you stopped worrying about how deep Toji was and now to pleasure Geto.

"You ready, pretty boy?" Geto nodded and you inserted his cock into your mouth and closed your eyes as you swirl your tongue around his cock and started bobbing your head. You were eager to make Geto come as fast as he could and be pleasured. The stimulation of Toji aggressively thrusting into you and giving head made your mind feel fuzzy. 

Just as you felt yourself about to reach your breaking point you finished Geto off and just as you were about to pass out you said the words Geto wanted to hear. "Good boy."

As the morning came to be the  sunlight beamed on your eyes making you wake up in a tight position. You had your head laying back on a soft pillow. You started to blink your eyes and open them wider as you felt your body tingle.

You looked down and saw Geto sucking your nipple. A slight “aah~”  escaped your mouth and he looked up into your eyes and smiled. “So you're up? Do you remember what happened last night?”  You placed your hand on Geto’s head and rubbed it as you smiled looking at him in his eyes. 

“I think I do but how did I get here?” Geto sat up and faced you as your back rested on the headboard. “After you passed out Toji  left you on the floor laying there.” You would’ve at least expected him to help you clean up but he just left you on the floor like a used up fleshlight. “I put on my clothes and picked you up instead of leaving you there and this is how you ended up here.” 

You placed your hand on Geto’s face and leaned in close to his face and said, “Let’s finish where we left off.”

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Dallas Liu, PEN15

Actor and martial artist Dallas Liu plays Shuji Ishii-Peters in Hulu’s hit series PEN15. He also recently starred opposite Stella Hudgens as Taylor King in the young-adult drama series Players, which follows students at an elite Los Angeles high school. On the film front, Dallas can be seen starring in the drama short Ella alongside Nichole Bloom. Born and raised in Los Angeles, as a child, Dallas began training in mixed martial arts. At age seven, he was chosen to play young Jin Kazama in the Tekken film franchise and found a new passion in acting. He decided to commit to it at age twelve and has been working ever since. Dallas took the time to chat with us about the making of PEN15, middle school memories, and what’s next for him. Check it out:

Do you have any fun facts about the making of PEN15 that fans would be surprised to find out?

I think a lot of people would be surprised to find out that Maya’s mom in the show is actually her real mom.

What’s the most memorable or embarrassing thing that happened to you in middle school?

I think the most memorable AND embarrassing thing that happened to me in middle school was when I got rejected at a school dance for the first time.

What’s the funniest thing on your camera roll?

A video of my best friend in the world getting hit on by a 40-year-old woman at a restaurant.

If your life was a choose-your-own-adventure, what decisions would viewers have to make on an average day?

The hardest decision to make would definitely have to be what you want to eat. I’m always tempted to spend money online shopping because who doesn’t love that. And whether or not you should be staying awake or sleeping during the Zoom online classes because if you’re in school right now, you know how boring those classes can get.

Do you have a dream role that you’d like to play one day?

I’d love to play the MC of a live-action anime. I watch anime on a daily basis, so I’ve found a huge love for the plot lines and the character developments in anime shows.

Describe each of the following in one word: Who you are, what you value the most, and what you’d be if you were a food item.

Caring, Loyalty, Boba

What’s next for you?

This past February, I was able to take part in a studio feature film, so I’m really excited for that to come out and for everyone to see!

Thanks for taking the time, Dallas! PEN15 season 2 is now streaming on Hulu.

Photographer: Jonny Marlow 

Groomer: Nathaniel Dezan | Stylist: Adam Ballheim

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Feeling like a family

Summary: Y/n visits Harry during his lunch break, letting him in on the relationship both her and Milo have with Xavier. Then they go to the zoo and have a little family day :) 

warning/ disclaimers: swearing, family issues. 

Things have been going amazing with Harry and Y/n. Ever since their date a couple weeks ago they have been seeing each other more and more. Harry has been coming into her bookshop while she’s working when he can. Just to surprise her and make her day a little better, sometimes he brings her lunch on the weekends and she visits him when he is spending hours after school hours grading art work and setting projects up for his students. 

It’s been new and exciting, and extremely fun. Not to mention the kissing has definitely been a plus. They went to have coffee with each other a couple days after their date, spending a good portion of the morning together. They have basically been inseparable since, Harry even invited Y/n and Milo over for dinner so they could all get to know each other better. Loralie was just excited to have guests that weren't family, and also to see a friend from school outside of school. She had a great time with Milo, they played together while Harry and Y/n cleaned up dinner together and snuck kisses in the kitchen. 

It's another Wednesday. Harry had Loralie and Milo's class now and he is letting them finger paint. It’s mainly been a calm class, he didn’t have to deal with much usually and if a kid did have a melt down the teacher and/or teachers assistant would deal with it instead of making Harry deal with it. “Looks great, Lora,” Harry says, kissing the top of Loralies head before scooting past her and walking over to his messy desk. He has papers, projects, markers, paints, all over his desk, even with all the time he spends after school he feels like he may never get it organized. 

“My mummy likes your daddy.” He hears, looking up to see Milo and Loralie talking. His cheeks turn crimson when he hears it, did they really give it away that easy? Their children now caught onto the fact that the two were dating? That was just embarrassing. “My daddy likes your mummy.” But that was more embarrassing. 

Harry ignores it (and the burning in his cheeks) and just hopes that the teacher will hush the class. He busies himself with cleaning his desk, trying to shove the papers into the drawers and file folders that they belong to but his mind is still distracted. He’s gonna have to tell Y/n that their kids know. The bell rings and he looks up from his desk. “Okay, you can leave your paintings where they are. I'll put them on the drying rack and you’ll get them tomorrow!” Harry sings, moving over to Loralie to kiss her cheeks and say a goodbye until he sees her at lunch time. “Bye daddy” she says, waving to him after kissing his cheek and joining her class. 

Harry laughs, letting out a sigh and putting the messy finger paintings on one of his many drying racks. It’s his lunch time now. He has to supervise lunch so he gets his break before everyone else. 

He wanders around his class room, doing random things and cleaning up his messes that he’s made from the two days of the week before him. He didn’t have plans for lunch, he would probably just have an extra big dinner. He’s happy to find Y/n cured his rumbling tummy when he sees her walking through his classroom. He smiles, chuckling at her big dramatic smile that was obvious teasing. “Hi, darling.” He says, leaning over his desk to press a kiss to her lips. 

She sits on the art table in front of his desk, setting two to-go boxes down. “Hi,” she says back, handing him one of the to-go boxes. “No sitting on the tables.” Harry teases while he reaches out to take the white Styrofoam box in his hands, quickly thanking her. “Suck it up.” She shrugs, her feet setting in the chair that was once tucked under the art table. “I just got you a sub and fries.” She says, plucking a chip from her box and taking a bite out of it. 

“Why Are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” He smiles, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. She shrugs, tapping her shoes down on the chair while she pulls her food into her lap. “I forgot to put Milo's' lunch box in his backpack so I had to drop it off.” She says, making Harry smile. So he thought she would have lunch with him? She’s adorable. “So how’s your week been, babe?” Harry sings, sitting back in his big office hair and relaxing into it while he eats. 

“Fine. Milo's dad visited.” What?! Since when did he come around? And since when was he “Milo's dad” and not “Xavier”? Harry knits his brows, gulping down his food before he responds, a little nervous. Harry and Milo are best buds, they have grown closer and he’s tried to pay him more attention when he sees him in class as well, he doesn’t want their friendship to be ruined now, even though what he is thinking is selfish. Milo deserves a good daddy. 

“Since when does he come around?” He asks, Y/n rolling her eyes at his tone. “He’s a photographer so he’s always traveling the world. I mean he pays child support, he’s not a shit dad. I just have my own issues with him.” She says, her tone heavy with annoyance. Harry was under the impression that he was a horrible dad and didn’t even try to care for Milo, but now he hears he pays child support and visits? 

“I just thought he didn’t care.” 

“Well… he’s trying. Like I said he’s traveling the world so he can’t always see him but he pays child support and he’s trying to come around more. He did come over and take some cute photos of Milo though.” Y/n smiles, remembering how her baby posed so well for the camera. He was shy at first but then they found a stray kitty out on a walk and he was more than willing to pose with it. 

Harry nods, taking a bite out of his sub. He finishes his bite and wipes his mouth with the brown paper napkins, “Is he gonna take Milo for the night or something like that?” Harry questions. Y/n is happy that Xavier is trying to see him more but she doesn’t think she would be able to be away for a night, especially when he doesn’t see Milo that much anyways. “I don’t think I would be comfortable enough to let Milo stay with him, for now at least. But he’s flying off and leaving Friday so I don’t have to worry.” Y/n confesses, taking a bite of her sub while she waits for Harry’s response. 

“Yeah, I understand that.” 

They eat together before Y/n deems it time for her to go. Giving him a hug and a kiss goodbye before she heads out and opens the book shop back up, letting Harry finish out his day. 

*********************************************

Harry and Y/n had made plans to take their little ones to the zoo. Y/n told Harry that Milo had been going on and on about lions so it was the perfect time for them to go. Harry has packed up Loralies stroller, putting snacks, his wallet, and her diaper bag in the bottom carrier. Luckily (but also unluckily) Milo is at the age where he does not want to be in a stroller, every time Y/n tries to put him in it while they are out he complains and tries to get out of it the whole time. 

Harry had picked them up, driving about an hour to the zoo. Milo and Loralie babbled to each other the whole ride which made their parents happy- meanwhile they were just humming to the radio and making small talk the whole ride. 

“Are you ready to see the lions?” Y/n coos to Milo, pulling him out of his car seat and setting him on the ground, holding his hand so he doesn’t run off in the car park. Harry pulls Loralie out, pulling out her stroller from the back, preparing to put her in it. “No! I walk today.” Loralie says with a bit of aggression in her voice. Harry hands with his hand up defensively, “okay, but you're gonna want it after walking in the heat for hours.” Harry takes her stroller despite her not wanting to be in it, she takes Harry's hand instead, walking next to Milo. 

Their first stop is the stingrays, getting the food from the people who work there then getting down in front of the large pond to pet their slimy skin. Milo and Loralie giggle the whole time, pulling their hands away as soon as they feel like slimy stingray and making dramatic gross faces that make their parents laugh. The kids definitely had fun feeding them and petting them but Harry and Y/n instantly shipped them off to the bathroom so they could wash their hands. 

Next is the walk through aquarium, “come on, it's this way.” Y/n says, cooing down at Milo and fast walking toward the cave shaped aquarium. When they walk inside it's lit up blue. They look all around them and they see lots of fish, big whales, all different things. “Woah!” Loralie exclaims, making Harry laugh, kissing her cheeks. All of a sudden Milo breaks out in loud giggles, pulling at the length of her mom jeans. “Mama, Look!” Milo giggles, pointing to a fish sticking to the aquarium glass, looking like it's making a silly face at everyone. Y/n laughs, squatting down and wrapping her arm around Milo, resting a hand on his belly. “Let's go see them” Y/n says, pulling him up on her hip and kissing over his cheeks. She takes him over to the silly fish while Harry lets Loralie look around, staring above her at the large fish swimming by until she stumbles back. Harry catches her, standing her back up and taking her over where Milo and Y/n are, showing her the fish that Milo was trying to touch through the glass. 

“He's so cute.” Harry compliments, laughing at how Milo's is so obsessed with the silly looking fish. Y/n turns to look at Harry, thanking him cockily- taking all the credits for his adorableness. Harry bumps his nose with hers in a butterfly kiss while their kids are looking straight ahead. He gives her a peck while the kids are still distracted then he turns back to the fish. “Okay, it's time to go look at the animals!” Harry cheer, pulling Loralie off of the ledge she was standing on. 

They walk through the entrance of all the animals, seeing some monkeys. Loralie and Milo start to imitate the monkeys, giggling at each other and the animals. They move onto koalas, waving at the cuddly animals before they get to see the lions- this is what Milo has been waiting for. “ROAR!” Milo yells, trying to climb on the wooden fence between the people and lions. Y/n giggles at him, pulling him off the fence and on her hip. “You’re a baby lion, aren’t you?” Y/n coos, kissing his forehead. Milo nods before she pulls him in her hands, extending him out. “Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba!” She sings, making the boy giggle, roaring again before she pulls him back in, kissing all over his face, making him squeal and push away. 

Meanwhile Loralie wants to pet the real baby lions. She’s got a frustrated face on since Harry didn’t let her climb over the fencing and pet the furry lions. Harry can’t help but laugh at her. They walk a bit more, walking for a while until they go to their next exhibit. 

It’s all calm until Milo starts screaming. He sees a bird wandering free, it was a large blue bird with huge feathers framing its head. Y/n knew that the peacock was harmless, they wouldn't let it wander free if it was, but Milo was gonna be scared of it regardless. “No, no!” He yells, backing away from the bird, trying to scold it for just walking around. Y/n laughs while Milo grips onto her leg, wagging his finger at the bird and yelling at it for scaring him. “It’s not gonna get you, bubba.” She laughs, pulling him into her hip while they get to the penguin house. 

They walk into the cold penguin house, their noses instantly crinkling from the smell. “Brrr” Loralie says, running her arms up and does while her teeth chatter. Harry laughs, tossing her little jacket over her shoulder to warm her up. “Look at the baby penguin.” Harry coos to Loralie, holding her up to the glass so she can wave at the little puffins. “Tiny!” She squeals, waving at the baby penguins. 

“Yeah,” Harry laughs at her. “They are tiny, Lora.” He agrees with her, giving the back of her head a kiss before settling her back down on the ground, letting her wander off a few feet away to look around at the penguins a bit more before they leave and look at the polar bears. 

After the polar bears, they head to the gift shop, Loralie gets a purple bucket hat with a blue monkey on it and a stuffed penguin she named “tiny”. Milo got a shirt of the name of the zoo and a matching stuffed penguin that he couldn’t choose a name for just yet. 

They head back to the car, Loralie’s legs are tired on the walk but she refuses to go in her stroller, instead Harry holds her while they take the long walk back, one arm holding Loralie up to his hip and the other latched with Y/n’s hand while her other hand holds Milo's. Once they get to the car Loralie and Milo get buckled up in their car seats, sure to fall asleep soon. 

Harry and Y/n get into the front seats, their hands instantly finding the others. “I had a nice day with you.” Harry smiles, his face only inches from hers. Y/n blushes, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun.” She says, focusing on Harry’s thumb rubbing at the back of her hand. They hear little whispers and giggles, turning their heads back to their little ones. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” They whisper- chant. Their parents' cheeks instantly burn, looking back to each other with big cheesy smiles on their faces. 

“Well?” Harry shrugs, leaning in and pressing his lips to her. She giggles on his lips, both of the kids in the back yelling. “Ew!” Loralie says. “Gross!” Milo agrees. 

The parents laugh, pressing one last peck to each other's lips before Harry starts up the car. They had a good day together. Harry got closer to Milo and Y/n got closer to Loralie. It kinda feels like they are becoming a little family.

Hii!! if you liked this please reblog and tell me what you thought of it!! please let me know if you would like to be on my tag list!! and please make sure you have read the first two parts :) 

tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

[90stvshowgoth]

—BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.

w/c: 5064

tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson

a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.

The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.

You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.

Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.

It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.

His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.

A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.

“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.

“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”

You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”

Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.

“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.

‘Who does he think he is?’ You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.

You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.

When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.

“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.

You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”

“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.

Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”

That got his attention, “Him?”

“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”

The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”

He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”

You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”

He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.

“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”

Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.

“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.

He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.

“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.

You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”

He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.

“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”

You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.

“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”

Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...

“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”

Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.

That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.

“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.

Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit!”

He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”

You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”

You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.

“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”

You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.

When the realization hit him, it hit hard.

“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.

“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.

“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.

It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.

“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.

“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.

You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.

He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.

“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.

“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.

On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...

“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.

You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.

His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.

“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”

“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.

Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.

“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.

Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”

Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.

“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”

Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.

“Yes,”

Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.

“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.

‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.

All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.

“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.

“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.

You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.

Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.

His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.

“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.

“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.

Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, “I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”

“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?

“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.

Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“

“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.

The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.

“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.

Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.

Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”

Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”

Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.

“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”

The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.

You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.

“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.

“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?

Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.

“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”

The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.

“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.

“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.

Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”

Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.

“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”

As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.

“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.

It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”

The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.

“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.

“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.

“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”

Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“

You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.

You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.

“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.

“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.

He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”

You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.

“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.

Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”

His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”

Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.

“No...”

“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.

Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”

He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.

“Kiss me before you go?”

He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.

“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.

His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,”

@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp

[jeongvision]

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH HAPPY 1K FOLLOWERS EMILY! my smol bean, my favourite virgo, my es to my paña, may i request a museum!au with jaehyun and "it was a honest mistake" LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK UWUWUWUWUWUWUWUWUWU

pairing. frat boy! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader

genre. fluff, humor, enemies to lovers au, college au, museum au, non idol au

warnings. cursing, maybe some bickering, mentions of violence, all the good stuff we see in e2l! au’s ohoho (also not proofread bc i’m knocked up on meds rn but wbk)

author’s note. THE ES TO MY PAÑA I CAN’T WITH YOU ASJFKGJA BUT I LOVE YOU BBY!! this request has been inspired from a post i saw in a fb group hehe hope you like it bc it’s a DREAM to have

School trips are always a hit or miss: you either find it the best thing to happen in your school year or find it the most boring trip you’ve ever been. For your art history class, the professor made it an effort to allow all the students enrolled in the course to visit a nearby museum for an graded assignment.

Requirements to get full marks on this said assignment are as follows:

You must attend to the museum with your assigned partner at the same time to receive credit. Dates on your admission ticket with be used as proof.

You must act at least TWO scenes from any artwork mediums (canvas, sculpture, video, etc.) and take picture for submission as proof that you have done so.

Just adding in a partner was just a sprinkle on top of your dessert, but it can’t be that bad, right? Wrong, because your partner is none other than Jung Jaehyun, the annoying frat kid that always arrives ten minutes later into lecture with either a hoodie draped over his head or a black baseball cap, sometimes without any books or a backpack in possession.

It’s wonder how the professor manages to tolerate him and his unruly behavior, because you certainly can’t stand the fact you’re standing within a few feet away from him for this stupid assignment.

If there weren’t any bystanders nearby and cameras pointing at you from all angles in the museum, you would’ve sucker punched him in his throat the moment you saw him walk through the entrance with his black shirt and tan cargo pants with his hair tucked in his black baseball cap. But you’re a good person and you would like to pass the class very much, so you hold yourself back from doing so.

You’ll think about it later when you’re outside of the museum premises, you know?

It’s been over an hour since you have arrived at the museum, and you can feel your patience running thin. As you two continue to circulate inside the museum, all you can hear from Jaehyun’s mouth are groans and sighs. It ticked you off to know that yes, it’s a pain of an ass to go out of your way for an assignment, but he is not willing to participate in the matter any time soon.

You abruptly stop in your tracks and turn to face him, stopping Jaehyun in his tracks too. You pointed a finger against his chest.

“Okay, look here, asshole,” you spat. “I’m so fucking sick of you not caring about anything in this world just because you think that you’re some hot shot that can get away with anything with your attractive looks.” Your patience has long been thinned out for this man, and you couldn’t stop your words from holding back, each words vehemently attacking the person before you. “I want to get this assignment done with just as much as you do, so can you for once use that fucking single brain cell of yours and just cooperate with me for once, or so god help me, the security is gonna be called on us after I push you over to that replica statue of David we passed earlier.”

You wasted no time in hearing his refutes or seeing his reaction and turned around in search for the nearest artwork that you could use for your assignment. Behind you, Jaehyun trails behind in silence, but instead of the bored expression he always spotted, there was an amused smirk on his face. Never once has he seen you so riled up before, so he was curious to see more sides of you than he’d see in his class when he wasn’t paying attention.

You turned around the corner and found a replica painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir, an oil on canvas called Dance in the Country. You rolled your eyes. At this point, you could care less if the two re-enactments you had to do depicted any sorts of intimate relationship, you just wanted to go home and sleep. Grabbing your phone out of your pocket, you opened your camera app. After asking the nearest stranger to take a picture for you, you call out to Jaehyun.

“So are you just going to stand there or what?” you sarcastically remarked. You could see a smirk forming on his lips for whatever reason it may be, but shrugged it off. He maneuvers over to where you stood in front of the grand painting.

“Out of all the paintings, you chose this one?” he asked.

You sighed. “Not now, Jung. Let’s just finish this, please?”

He nods but the smirk on his face never wipes away, ticking you off a little more. Suppressing your annoyance for the latter, you went into position in placing one of your hands on his shoulder while he cautiously wraps one arm around your waist. With both of your free hands, you two interlocked fingers, just a shy away from reproducing the painting.

The only thing that set you two apart is the gap between both of your faces, showing an awkward distance that left everyone at unease.

The stranger that held your phone looks away from the camera app. “I think you two should move in a little closer to each other. It’ll look nice.”

Clearing his throat, he nears closer to your face, closing in on you. You start feeling yourself getting hotter, feverish almost, from the close intimacy you’re experiencing from someone you barely know about.

The stranger counts down.

“One..”

You could smell his minty breath and intoxicating cologne reeling you in, putting you in a daze-like trance as you look into his eyes.

“Two..”

No longer does he have his infamous smirk on his face, but is instead replaced with one of his sweet smiles you rarely see in the halls, one that you only see whenever he is with his group of friends.

“Three!”

A different stranger walks behind Jaehyun, bumping their shoulders into Jaehyun’s figure that sends him stumbling over you. It all happened in a blur, from the sound of the click of your camera to the ‘woah’ of Jaehyun’s lips to the sudden contact of his lips against your own.

Yes, you have indeed read that correctly — you just fucking kissed Jaehyun, the last person you would last see yourself kissing.

You pushed him off of him, your face flushed with shock and embarrassment. “W-What the hell was that, Jung!?” you stammered.

He held his hands out in front of him. “I swear, y/n, it was a honest mistake!”

You roll your eyes to mask your growing embarrassment. “Yeah, okay then. Accident, my ass.”

The stranger that took your photo walks back to the two of you and smiled, handing back your phone. “Other than that person that walked into your boyfriend just now, the photo came out great!” He examines both of your expressions, Jaehyun’s ears and neck turning red like no tomorrow with you refusing to make eye contact with him, too perplexed of what just occurred now. The stranger raises an eyebrow. “Do... Do you guys want me to take another picture or anything?”

Both you and Jaehyun are quick to answer.

“No, we’re good!”

jeongvision’s milestone event!

[thetriggeredhappy]

recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.

i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly

anyways your scout content gives me life thank you

scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal

(warnings for some canon-typical violence)

-

“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”

“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”

“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”

“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”

“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”

“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.

“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.

“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.

“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“

“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”

The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.

“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”

“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.

“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”

Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.

“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”

He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.

“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”

One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.

Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”

“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.

“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”

“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”

“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”

“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”

“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”

“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”

“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.

“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”

She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.

She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”

Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.

“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”

“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.

“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”

“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”

“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”

The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.

“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.

“What was your hint?”

“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”

She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”

He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.

“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“

“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”

“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”

“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”

“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.

“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.

“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”

“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.

“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.

“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.

-

“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”

“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.

“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.

“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.

“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”

“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.

In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.

“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.

“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”

Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.

“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”

“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”

“How early?” Heavy rumbled.

“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”

Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.

“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”

The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”

“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”

“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”

“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.

“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.

“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”

“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”


Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”

“Sure thing, Miss P.”

[imagine-that-100]

All of You

Description: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | After getting married, you and Alex go on your Honeymoon that comprises of two destinations. Athens is filled with shitty jokes whilst Bora Bora is filled with compliments and kisses.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Lil smut 

A/N: This was requested by the lovely @ghostlightqueen​. Really hope you like it and I hope the rest of you do too. Likes and reblog are appreciated and thank you so much for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You thought that the day you got married would be the happiest of your life, but it seems that the days that followed were somehow even more joyous. You travelled to your second Honeymoon destination a week after your wedding and the moment you got off the plane with your husband's hand in your own, you knew that this was heaven on earth.

Bora Bora was gorgeous, and it was truly the best Honeymoon destination for you and Alex. You don’t think he’d done nothing in his mind for a long time so the absence of the need to write songs really must have relaxed him.

You’d already been to Athens to see the sights. You both found a lovely antique store whilst you were there and by some miracle you both found an English poetry book in there and each night, before you slept, one of you read one to the other.

The sight-seeing was really fun with him too. You enjoyed going round with your polaroid camera and asking strangers to take a picture of the both of you.

You knew Alex didn’t really like pictures but the ones with you he never failed to smile for. Your husband was also hilarious with you the entire time you got excited to see something new.

Seeing the world was something Alex was obviously lucky enough to do, and you’d been lucky enough to to accompany him a few times, but this was totally different. You were viewing history and you found it so fascinating.

“You’re really Greek-ing out over the view, aren’t you?” Alex chuckles loving seeing you as excited as you are.

“Al, that was awful.” You giggle putting your camera down.

He laughs at your distaste for his joke, but he grins at you and nods, “But you are though.”

“Yes Alex, we’re standing in Acropolis… I’ve always wanted to come here.” You tell him what he already knows.

He smiles at you then before he quickly kisses you. When he pulls away, he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you carry on Greek-ing out.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh lord.”

The day after, you both go on a tour around the Parthenon, and Alex catches you looking at an ice cream cart. So, Alex, being the loving husband he is, he goes and gets you an ice cream as you continue to listen to the tour guide.

A minute later Alex came back over with two ice creams in hand and he whispers into your ear after he hands you yours, “What’s Athen’in?”

The way you rolled your eyes at that would have been comical if Alex saw it, but he didn’t, you elbowed him in his side for the awful way he asked, ‘what’s happening.’

“Thank you for my ice cream, you fucking nerd” You whisper back dismissively and Alex chuckles before taking your hand and following the rest of your group as you started moving from your current spot.

Alex continues to make his shit jokes all week and you won’t let yourself admit they are entertaining. You didn’t want to encourage his silly behaviour despite secretly loving it.

On your second to last day before you were due to travel again, you go to a museum and you absolutely love it. But your husband loves to be needy in the crowd of people you were in.

“I love you.” Alex says, leaning over your shoulder and kissing your cheek as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Love you too Alex.” You smile as you rest your hands over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.  

Alex pouts wanting you to return his kind gesture, “Give me a kiss to prove it then.”

“Why can’t I just tell you? We’re in public.” You say, not feeling the need to get off with him as you were standing admiring some art.

Alex grins as you’ve played right into his hands. He jokes, “Athens speak louder than words, Y/N.”

You groan, “That’s the worst one yet.” leaning back into him.

“You love it really.” Alex mumbles as he leans down and places a kiss on your shoulder.

Alex kisses then travel from your shoulder and up to your neck. You’re well aware he likes that your shoulders are available to kiss because you're wearing a white vest top with spaghetti straps. He always loved to follow that trail of kisses.

You pay the loving kisses no attention though, you just chuckle and tell him, “I can’t wait to tell Matt about your shitty jokes.”

“Hey...” Alex pouts, “What Athens in Greece, stays in Greece.”

You hold your groan back this time and curiously ask, “Can I get an annulment or does it have to be a divorce after nearly a week?”

You can’t hold back your smile as he loudly gasps and spins you around. You knew that he knew you were joking but that doesn’t stop his jaw falling open.  

“You love me, you wouldn’t do that.” Alex playfully frowns a little.

“You should know by now that you can’t tame me Turner.” You grin and wrap your arms around his neck.

Who were you kidding, you didn’t care about PDA that much.

“I know everything about you, Turner.” Alex grins, using your new last name against you. “You’ve been my best friend since we were seventeen.”

“I know, you idiot.” You smile as you feel his arms wrap around your lower back.

“That’s how I know you hate me when I do this.” You grin as you reach up, messing up his fluffy hair with one hand whilst stealing his sunglasses with your other.

Alex gasps and laughs, pulling you in tighter so you can’t escape. You giggle like an idiot trying to get away from him but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“You’re my wife, you can’t pull shit like that anymore.” Alex says, his jaw still a little agape.

You grin and say, “I can and I will… Gotta keep you on your toes now Turner.”

Alex shakes his head and mumbles against your lips before he lets you fully kiss him, “Like you have done the past twenty years, you mean?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bora Bora was a completely different experience.

Maybe it was because there was less to do or you were both just shocked by the beauty of the place. You felt like you were in Neverland.

The islands surrounding the one your resort was on was amazing. You and Alex were staying in your own water villa and it was one of the end ones so you had the best view and the bigger place.

Not that you really needed it but you had to admit, it was nice to have a big house in a stunning paradise to yourselves.

There was a balcony on the water villa you were both staying in and it was amazing. It came equipped with sunloungers and even a small pool, which was mental to you because the sea was right there for you to jump into if you wanted to swim.  

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t get use out of it.

You’ve both been there a few days and you’ve not yet got bored of sunbathing after your hectic week of being a tourist. Last week had definitely tired you both out, so despite you already having your tans by now, you still loved spending your full day out in the sunshine.

You got up from the sunlounger, that was more of a sun bed, beside Alex not 20 minutes ago, and swam to the edge of the small infinity pool and rested your elbows on the side of it as you watched the sun go down. The view was stunning.

The sun slowly hid itself behind the stray clouds that littered the sky, turning them red which against the now orange sky made it look picture perfect. You wanted to paint the scene in front of you.

But before you knew it, it had disappeared and darkness was creeping its way to the sky. So you slowly made your way out of the pool so you could get ready to go for dinner soon.

“You look so good right now Angel.” Alex says as you walk up the steps out of the pool.

You smile, feeling a little shy for some unknown reason. Probably because you weren’t doing anything that you thought was compliment worthy, “You think so?”

“I always think so.” Alex nods before gesturing for you to come towards him.

He didn’t care that you’d just been in the water at all. His trunks were still damp from his swim earlier so when he guided you to straddle his lap, he didn’t care at all.

You looked stunning in your blue and white striped spaghetti strap bikini. He definitely couldn’t not tell you, even if he did see traces of embarrassment show on your pretty face.

“I love you.” You grin before pressing your lips to his after wrapping your arms around his neck.

Alex grins back and keeps you close as he whispers, “I love you more.”

You brush your nose against his as you shake your head, whispering back, “Not possible.”

You kiss him then and despite it being soft and gentle, you get the same nervous feeling in your stomach that you got the first time you kissed him however many years ago now. The kiss deepened and you guess the two of you just got too consumed in the moment because before you knew it all the strings that held your bikini together were being untied and Alex’s trunks were off.

If you ever cared about having sex and the risk of others seeing you, you certainly didn’t in this moment in time. You were riding your husband on the large sunlounger on your balcony and you felt euphoric.

The intimacy of the moment somehow made it better and you think even the risk of others seeing or hearing increased the pleasure you were feeling too. That must have been subconscious though because all you could think about was Alex.

His hold on your hips was strong and when he pulled you hips down to meet his, it caused the sweetest sound to fall from your lips which made Alex do it again and again. You looked heavenly above him like that.

Eyes closed just basking in the feeling of pleasure you were both giving each other. The sun setting behind you as Alex watched you ride him was stunning, it made you look like you were glowing.

Gorgeous was another word Alex would use to describe you when your head tilted back in the bliss of the moment. The whine you release when Alex starts kissing your neck where he knew you were sensitive was music to his ears.

And the way your fingers laced through his hair and pulled on it causing a similar sound to fall from Alex’s lips. But most of all Alex just thought you were the most beautiful human being and he never had a problem with telling you that.

The things he told you during intimate moments like this just made everything better and when your orgasm hit you, it was unearthly. You cling to Alex like he was going to magically disappear and Alex did the same to you when he got his release.

“I love you Alex.” You just about manage to say into his neck where you were hiding yourself when you came back to reality.

Alex trails kisses from your shoulder all the way up your neck to just under your ear as he’d done hundreds of times before. He breathes you, “I love you too Angel.”

~*~*~*~

Days in this paradise were spent relaxing in each other’s company outside or inside, in bed. The latter happened often as there was no need to get yourselves up in the mornings so you lazed about in bed.

Either cuddling and listening to music or listening to the TV in the background as you both stared out at the amazing view that the island had to offer. There weren’t very many times throughout this honeymoon when you wouldn’t be found touching each other.

Even if you went out for a walk you’d be hand in hand. But mostly you were entangled together in the confines of your own villa.

Either in the same sense that you were when you were on the sunlounger, which you couldn’t look at the same again, or just innocently cuddling. You think that your happiest day had been when Alex showered you with a million more compliments than he did every other day.

Today you’d stayed in your villa for most of the day, first Alex had made you feel euphoric again by making you feel like a queen (his queen). This time in bed though and not on the sunlounger.

Afterwards, you both showered and you were certain you’d never felt more peaceful than in that shower with him after he’d just made you feel pure bliss. After you dried off, Alex catered for you by making you a late breakfast which later you returned the favour for and made him lunch.

After relaxing in the small pool that was on your balcony, you also messed around a little and both jumped in the sea a lot, as if you were seventeen again. Once you decided it was time to make yourselves presentable for dinner later, you both headed back inside out of the sunlight.

You ran yourself a bath and unsurprisingly Alex joined you in it when it was filled. The bath was next to a large window that again showed off the stunning views of your amazing surroundings, so you enjoyed resting back against Alex, listening to the music that was playing out of your phone.

The kisses to your head as you both relaxed warmed your heart more than the water you were both sat in. It made you not want to leave the escape that the villa brought you.

So you dragged the bath out for a good hour and after Alex washed your hair and you had a giggle washing his, you got ready and went out to have your meal.

You came back to the villa long after the sun had set and you couldn’t wait to get in bed so a whole new day could start. Alex had been charming and flirty all throughout dinner so it really wasn’t a surprise when that continued.

The compliments started falling from his lips as soon as you both made it back to bed. Both of you cuddled together but he was once again teasing you with neck kisses.

“I’m sad you took that dress off, you looked stunning tonight.” Alex tells you as he places random kisses just below your ear.

He was pretty much lying on top of you, your chests pressed together and his head was buried into your neck. You weren’t complaining though, you just happily traced patterns on the smooth material that rested on his back, and now and again you ran your fingers through his hair.

You grin knowing he’d like it. “I thought you’d like that one.”

It was a little black dress that you’d bought purposely for a dinner date. You knew he’d love it because of how perfectly it fit you, but you had to admit, taking it off and putting your new black silk pyjama top and shorts on felt comfier.

“I like everything you put on… Or take off for that matter.” He chuckles a little, still lying on top of you and kissing your neck now and again.

He made you feel really warm and you loved the intimacy of the moment. Just lying in bed with him with the balcony doors open and letting the cool breeze run over the both of you as you listen to the waves.

“Very easily impressed, aren’t you?” You grin as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

Alex chuckles before kissing his way back up your neck. “Only by you, Angel.”

You giggle a little then as you play with his hair whilst he still distracts himself with your neck. You were sure he’d keep his head there for all eternity if you let him, and he had even more reason to stay there because he knew you secretly loved it.

“I could name 110 things I love about you right now, just off the top of my head.” Alex promises as he lifts his head and kisses your lips.

You giggle when he pulls away, “That’s oddly specific.”

Alex grins and kisses you again as he says, “Well I could have said 505 but at the risk of being cheesy, I adapted.”

The laugh you released then was something Alex was so glad he could hear everyday now. He couldn’t wait to start a proper life with you now you were officially his.

“Your laugh might be at the very top of that list.” Alex tells you, smiling to himself.

“Then your eyes, they are so stunning.” Alex tells you, his own eyes looking back and forth between yours. Almost as if he couldn’t decide which he liked better. “I’d write a full song about your Y/E/C eyes if you’d let me.”

You grin at him but shake your head. It was an answer that Alex knew was coming but he still loved them non the less. Alex gazes down at your lips then that were tugged up into a stunning smile.

“Your smile is definitely up there too. I don’t think I could ever have a bad day again if you smile at me like that every day.” That fills your chest with warmth.

Alex gives you an eskimo kiss then and your heart skips a beat at your noses brushing together, and again when he softly says, “I love the way you just sort of melt when I do that.”

It was true you really did practically melt beneath him. Your eyes close, you release the breath you're holding and you just bask in the feeling of his nose brushing against yours, you feel like you sink into the pillow beneath you more than you already had.

His compliments continue, “I love the way you run your fingers through my hair and how you twist it around when you’re relaxed and happy.”

You smile as you carry on doing it. And you didn’t plan on stopping.

“I love that you still wear that perfume I helped you pick out years ago.” Alex says getting another whiff of the gorgeous scent.

“I love your kisses. To the point where I think I’d cry if you’d deny me one.” Alex jokes a little with you and it makes you giggle again.

“I love waking up and falling asleep next to you.” Alex admits, “Definitely better than waking up next to the idiots back home on a tour bus.”

“You’re such a lovely friend.” You chuckle looking into his soft brown eyes.

Alex hums in agreement and continues with, “I love that you’re my best friend and have been since I can remember.”

“I adore the fact that you’re amazing at what you do and you give 110% for each new thing that’s thrown your way.”

“You’ve said 110 twice now, should I be expecting another song?” You playfully ask him and Alex laughs before he kisses you again.

“I love your reactions to the songs that are about you.” Alex grins.

Your eyes narrow a bit there as he knew how you felt about the songs. But you could let that go a bit now.

He was your husband after all.

“I love that you get really sexy when you get annoyed at something.” Alex says before kissing you again, and he starts kissing down your jaw and he focuses back on your neck.

“I love the way you pretend you hate this but I know from the way that you react that you don’t.” Alex says and you catch yourself reacting in encouraging ways.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, you gave him more room for his lips to find your skin, and your breath hitched when he teases the spot he knew was your weakest.

“I love that the way you breathe gives away how you want to have sex.” Alex practically purrs in your ear.

Alex’s lips continue to tease you and after a few seconds he nips on a spot he already got before and you release a breathy whine. Of course Alex says, “I love those noises you make so much. I wanna hear them all day.”

Alex slowly moved himself a little further up your body, this time resting himself down between your legs and you can feel him getting hard through the both of your pyjama shorts. You gasp a little, “Alex.”

He all but groans, “I love the way you say my name.”

Your eyes are closed now and you focus on the kisses on your neck and his hand running down your side until he carries on to your leg and he gently guides it to hook around his waist. He felt even better against you then and you bite your lip to stop yourself from giving anything more away.

“I love how you try to stop yourself from wanting us… Makes it even funnier now we’re married.” Alex chuckles before he kisses your lips that he catches you biting.

You don’t really care now, he’s right. He’s your husband, you don’t have to show restraint anymore. Especially on your Honeymoon.

Your kiss is slow but intense. You could feel how much Alex loved you and you wanted to show how much you love him too. And in this moment your actions seemed like no better way.

“Alex.” You breathe to grab his attention.

He kisses you again and bites in your lip as he pulls away. He grins at your whine and innocently asks you, “Yes Angel?”

You grab a fistful of his pyjama top and say, “Please let me take this off”

He lets you and once it’s somewhere on the floor Alex grins at you like an idiot. You know he’s happy, overjoyed even, but there’s a teasing sparkle in his eyes so you lean up and kiss him again to bypass that.

Your top hits the floor next and Alex has his fun attaching his lips to your chest leaving mark after mark. The rest of both your pyjamas are removed shortly after. 

Before anything goes any further though Alex pauses for a second. He looks down at you so lovingly, you feel as if you could literally melt under his gaze.

His chest is still pressed to yours and you’re both breathing a little heavy from previous kisses. But the way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter.

At this point you don’t think it ever wouldn’t.

Alex’s declaration of love finishes off with, “I just love you Mrs Turner... All of you”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: Nirvana in Fire, Episode 04

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning! Spoilers for all 54 episodes!

Schemes in Progress:

Mu Nihuang’s Marriage//Martial Arts Competition: Mei Changsu has a foolproof plan for defeating the lead contender, Baili Qi, who is the only contender who can actually beat Nihuang to win her hand. His plan appears to involve having small children beat the mighty warrior. In fact his plan is way simpler and more delightful than that, but I’ll discuss the specifics in a later post. It’s politically important to defeat Baili Qi, not just personally, because he represents a potential enemy state. 

Mu Nihuang’s Marriage//Sima Lei: The Crown Prince and his mom, Consort Yue, want to force Nihuang to marry their dude Sima Lei. The plan is to use Roofie Wine on her. Consort Jing gets wind of this plan and gets a counter-plan rolling. 

Getting Tingsheng Out Of The Palace: Mei Changsu uses the anxiety caused by Baili Qi’s badassery to get the Emperor to agree to his ridiculous kid-training plan, and then makes sure Tingsheng, the secret son of the late Prince Qi, is one of the kids he gets to train. 

Put Jingyan on the Throne: This scheme gets rolling, with a general pattern of Mei Changsu & team doing whatever they can to sink the leading contenders for the throne, which gives Jingyan an opportunity to rise up. The leading contenders tend to cooperate in their own sinking because they are ruthlessly ambitious, and Mei Changsu designs his plans to take advantage of that. 

Banquet Battle

After thoroughly disarming and whomping Jingrui, Baili Qi finishes by flinging Jingrui’s sword into the floor right in front of him. 

Jingrui, who hoped to literally cripple Baili Qi in this fight, has the nerve to be affronted by this. 

(More behind the cut!)

Baili Qi shows his impeccable barbarian manners, giving the Emperor a nice gesture of respect that is presumably local to Northern Yan. Meanwhile, Mei Changsu and Nihuang are snarking quietly at their table like a couple of high schoolers.

Mei Changsu pretends to be embarrassed when the Emperor tells them to share their joke with the whole class, but of course it’s always a scheme, with him. 

He and Nihuang explain to everyone that they were just chatting about how Baili Qi is great and all, but that Mei Changsu could train some small amateur children to beat his bitch ass, given a couple of days to teach them to run in a circle. 

The emperor thinks this is a good plan, and gets right on board with it. 

This is not actually because the emperor is an idiot, however, although Prince Yu clearly thinks so. 

The emperor IS an idiot, but on this occasion I think he has correctly deduced that Mei Changsu has some kind of shady plan in mind, and he is 100% in favor of shady plans, if they work to his benefit. 

Consort Bestie

Jingyan’s mom Consort Jing is hanging out in the palace, and meets up with her girlfriend bestie, Imperial Concubine Hui. Historically, the Emperor’s collection of women was divided into ranks; how many ranks was different for different periods. In NIF, Consort Jing and I.C. Hua belong to the “outer palace” and the Empress and Consort Yue belong to the “inner palace” because they rank higher. The Empress likes to pick on  IC Hua, and has sent her to light a bunch of candles in a haunted palace.

Consort Jing goes with her because they are girlfriends besties, and because she is a consistently nice person who deserves all the good things in the world. Spoiler: Both of these women survive, they stay friends, things work out well for both of them and for their sons. Go ahead and root for them! 

Because the haunted palace belongs to the late Empress, mother of the Emperor and of Grand Princess Liyang, these BFFs are ideally placed to overhear some important scheming, involving some drugged wine that’s been sitting around in this part of the compound for like 30 years. 

They realize that someone is planning to sexually assault a woman by using this drugged wine, and Nihuang is the obvious candidate, since her marriage plans are all anyone’s talking about now. Consort Jing tells Concubine Hua to forget all about this and not get involved in palace drama, but she immediately gets to work intervening in the situation herself. 

Training 

Over at the Xie guesthouse, Mei Changsu is training the kiddies in a special sword formation designed to beat Baili Qi. They sure do have pretty sword forms for a bunch of kids who have never held a sword. Also, someone’s chalk skills are off the chain.

Mei Changsu tells Fe Liu that they have to be faster, so Fe Liu tells them “go faster” and they do, which is apparently the essence of learning martial arts. 

Mu Nihuang shows up and sees right through all of this, making it clear she needs a miracle to get her out of this unwanted marriage. Mei Changsu tells her that he’s got it covered. She says that she believes him, although she’s not sure why. 

Then they stand there gazing heatedly at each other, like you do when you are two random people who have never met until recently, and definitely have never gotten each other off even a little bit. 

Embroidery Flexing

Meanwhile, Consort Jing sets out to save Nihuang from the wine/marriage plot, through the power of embroidery. 

In order to do this she has to make embroidered scent sachets for the Dowager Empress, the Empress, the Grand Princess, and Consort Yue, which she does before going to bed for the night, apparently. Consort Jing kicks ass. 

She makes sure that the Dowager Empress, who is a sweetheart, will be pleased enough with her sachet that she will invite Consort Jing into the room, which will give her an opportunity to present the actually important sachet to Grand Princess Liyang. 

Communication was complicated, before cell phones. 

Once they’re alone, Consort Jing tells Grand Princess Liyang about the plot to force Nihuang to marry Sima Lei. She tells her in the most round-about, triggery way possible, because she needs Liyang to have a flashback, I guess? Otherwise we wouldn’t get to watch her own Mom drugging her to force her to marry Xie Yu. 

Thanks, Mom, I’d be happy to drink this cup of obvious poison. Mom is terrible but her crown is awesome. 

Anyway, once Liyang knows what’s up, she’s on board with team Save Nihuang From Having To Marry A Creep Like My Own Husband.

Clean-shaven Xie Yu: even creepier than regular Xie Yu and also very shiny. Beautiful costume, though. Why are they dressing the flashback villains so nicely? 

Side note: presumably Liyang and her mom didn’t know she was already pregnant when they brought Xie Yu into the mix? Because if they had known, she would probably have been fine with just, like, consenting to marry someone or other, to keep her reputation intact. Anyway it’s worth noting that this whole situation is about appearances, not about whether anyone is actually a literal virgin. 

The Laughing Prince

Jingyan comes for a visit to see how the training is going, and he and Mei Changsu have a sitdown. Mei Changsu tells him that he’s come to town to make sure that the two main contenders for the throne don’t get it, and that he’s going to work to make Jingyan the next emperor. 

Then they stand there gazing at each other, like strangers who definitely have never gotten each other off even a little bit. 

Then Jingyan laughs at him

Jingyan thinks it’s impossible that he would ever be emperor, but he’s happy to go along with Mei Changsu’s plans if it will keep his jerk brothers from winning. 

Building Team Jingyan

Late at night, Meng Zhi drops by to look at Tingsheng and say that he resembles Prince Qi, which he totally doesn’t, but Chinese dramas really don’t worry about casting people who resemble each other to play twins or whatever, so we can take Meng Zhi’s word for it. 

They talk about the Make-Prince-Jing-The-Emperor plan, with Meng Zhi wanting to help out, and Mei Changsu wanting to make sure that only his own hands get dirty with all the schemey stuff he’s planning. 

Hu Ge is really good at talking directly to the camera without looking into the lens. It’s a good technique for intense moments and because he doesn’t look straight into the lens, it doesn’t break the fourth wall. 

Building Team Nihuang

Liyang has spent the day trying to warn Nihuang about the roofie wine situation, but can’t reach her due to a lack of cell phones and/or embroidery skills. 

So she takes the daring step of going to Mei Changsu’s guest house--on her own dang property--which is such a high risk endeavor she has to wear a fancy cloak and cary a super obvious fancy lantern.  God forbid a woman walk around her own house at night.  Anyway, she’s able to pass the warning to Mei Changsu, and asks him to pass it to Nihuang. 

Of course that’s when her husband comes knocking, presumably looking for some affection--he actually is a nice husband who genuinely loves his wife, within the context of a society in which rape is perfectly fine, anyway. 

Her junior servants are freaked out, because visiting a man, even your own houseguest, alone at night is not perfectly fine, so if he catches her, they’re all dead, basically. But the elder servant tells them to chill and just watch how she handles it. 

She politely tells Xie Yu that his wife was reminded of their first date, and so maybe he should leave her and her feelings and her sharp hairpins and whatnot alone for a while. (I’m inferring the hairpins.) He looks slightly terrified and immediately withdraws.