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lex-the-flex · 6 months ago

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Soured Whiskey

Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Your one night stand with a handsome stranger at the bar leads to a different endeavor.

Word Count: 2k

Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, brief cursing, small moments of action and violence, brief drinking, Logan being protective, MEGA FLUFF, SMUT 18+ – Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral (f! receiving), fingering, skin + body appreciation, Logan being a gentleman and the reader being lovely. (Basically distant soulmates).

A/N: I'm officially seeing Deadpool and Wolverine tomorrow and I'm so excited! But in the meantime, I thought I'd add to the pile of Wolverine smut.

Strings of ornately hung light bulbs decorate the bar, bringing a cozy old-school vibe to the modernized saloon. Closing the door behind you, the cold city atmosphere was instantly transformed into a quaint and warm invitation. You’re friends couldn’t stop raving about this new bar and that you all just had to go here and try the endless menu of cocktails and tapas.

So through your busy work week, your friends informed you to meet at the bar on Friday once the sun started to go down. But much to your dismay, your friends bailed on you, even after repaying that they’d be there for you and help you unwind, to de-stress.

You got stood up. By your own good friends who you thought had your back.

Sighing to yourself, it was too late to give up now. You were already here, so you might as well order a drink.

Sitting at the bar, you sat up straight on the stool, not paying attention to who was sitting next to you. It didn’t matter. Patiently waiting for the bartender, the sight of someone sitting next to you crosses your peripheral vision. The man’s muscular arms lean against the counter, reaching for a couple of fresh cashews.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” The bartender asks.

“Just a whiskey sour, please.” You reply.

“Got it, and same for you, sir?” He questions, pushing a singular whiskey glass to the person to your right.

“Yeah, thanks.” The stranger replies.

The stranger’s gruff voice takes you by surprise, but you pay him no mind.

Rolling the coaster in between his fingers, the bartender places your bright whiskey sour in front of you. The refreshing yellow foamy drink is adorned with a lemon swirl and a dried cherry for garnish. Just the sight of it makes a well-deserved smile rise through your lips. Taking a sip of the cold drink, the bartender turns to the back wall with the more expensive bottles of liquor, and passes it to the stranger on your right.

Getting a glimpse his way, the man finally comes into view. His masculine features take over your attention; the man’s full dark head of hair, beard, and strong jaw seem to put you in a hypnotic state. Glancing towards you, his light hazel eyes gaze into your e/c orbs, providing a somewhat welcoming gaze, however his stern and annoyed expression makes you turn away.

Returning to your drink, the stranger lowers his arm next to yours, letting you see a freshly lit cigar in his hand. Blowing the smoke away from you, he silently watches you take another swig of your drink before checking the empty text message bubble once again.

“Rough day?” He asks.

Sighing into your hands, you jokingly squint your eyes at the stranger, and set your phone down.

“You have no idea. I‘be been craving this damn drink all day.” You reply.

Running your index finger around the rim of the almost empty glass. Smirking, the stranger raises his glass towards yours.

“Name’s Logan.” He says.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Logan.” You answer, clinking your glass with his.

Finishing your drinks and dinner in a comfortable silence, Logan silently watches you, observing some of your mannerisms that stand out to him. The way you sit perfectly straight, how you wipe your mouth after every bite, and even the outfit you picked for yourself. Your light grey cardigan sits perfectly on your shoulders along with the casual white button-up shirt that was underneath it. The pair of black dress pants and ankle boots make you look professional yet comfortable and he liked that.

However, this minuscule moment of peace didn’t last long. The scent of strong liquor and the hint of douchebag lingers in the air behind you and Logan. Taking another puff of his cigar, Logan glances your way, warning you to not pay these drunken idiots any attention.

Polishing off the remainder of your drink, Logan waves for the bartender, and prepares to take your tab.

“I got it, Logan. Don’t worry about me.” You advise.

Placing his hand over yours, Logan stops you from using your debit card, motioning to the three men behind you.

“That’s not what I’m worried about, darlin’.” He warns.

“You shouldn’t worry about her, man. We can take care of her. We’ll take her off your hands.” One of the drunk men sneers.

“No thanks, boys. I’m happy where I stand.” You state, looking at Logan, rubbing your fingers over his knuckles.

Joining you and Logan, the bartender slams his hands on the counter.

“I told the three of you that you’re not allowed in here! Get out before there’s trouble.” He orders.

“Or what, man? What will you do? We’ve been coming here since… this place opened.” The idiot spurs, stuttering to give a clear answer.

Blowing off his friends, the young man stumbles to your left side, slipping on the way to nonchalantly lean on the bar, still desperate to impress you. Ignoring him, Logan watches the other two men leave the bar altogether, clearly done with their friend’s shit.

“Lemme take you out and show you a good time, beautiful. Surely I can do better than the guy on your right. I know I can fuck you better than him.” He explains.

Not noticing that he’s crossed your personal space line, you instinctively back up into Logan, who’s nearly at his breaking point.

“Look, bub. She said no. So, take the hint and get the hell out of here. She’s with me.” Logan rebuttals, just as a wave of rage overtakes his voice.

The sudden sense of feeling claustrophobic creeps out on every single inch of your skin. Glancing down at your hands, you discover that you’re now white-knuckling the edge of the wooden countertop, and Logan begins to ball his fist around his whiskey glass.

Leaning closer to you, the young man tries once again, and fully crosses the line.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me treat you better.” He whispers next to your face.

Suddenly, you see red. The stranger’s hand touches your mid thigh and you merely fly back on the barstool.

“Get the fuck off me!” You shout, pushing the man away.

Within seconds, Logan pushes himself from his own seat, and grabs the young man by his hoodie. Punching the man in the face, he falls to the floor with a streak of blood leaking out of his nose. Wiping his nose, the bartender manages to pull Logan away, before returning to tend to the young man. Tugging Logan closer, he subconsciously wraps his arms around your frame, making sure that you’re out of harm's way.

“You alright?” He asks in a low whisper.

Silently nodding, the two of you refuse to move, and your hand is still lingering on his chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You answer.

*****

Within seconds of shutting your front door behind you, Logan was on you. Deepening the kiss between you both, you could tell that he wanted more. Pushing you against the door, a growl escapes from Logan as he picks you up and walks into the kitchen. Placing you on the marble countertop, his hands work quickly to rid you of the cardigan on your shoulders.

Gliding his lips down to your neck, you wrap your legs around Logan’s waist. Feeling a small moan escape from your lips, you swore that he might fuck you on the cold countertop. But he wasn’t that rebellious. Tearing his own jacket off, Logan carefully carries you through the apartment and down the hallway to your bedroom.

Sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he momentarily breaks the space between you and lifts your shirt from your body. Tossing it across the room, Logan bends down and takes your face in his hands.

“You sure you want this, darlin’? I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” Logan advises, gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m sure. I want this with you. And only you.” You consent with a nod.

Silently nodding, Logan slowly leans in and pulls you in passionately. His kiss is slow and steady, allowing him to relax at this moment. Feeling his heart swell, Logan couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted him in the way that you do.

Discarding the remainder of both of your clothes, you lay down on the comforter, melting into the soft fabric and Logan follows suit. Gripping his broad shoulders, your fingers press into his hot skin as his lips lock onto yours. Trailing his hand down your bare body, Logan’s fingers reach beneath the waistband of your lacy underwear and press against your clit.

Meeting your throbbing folds with his fingertips, you break the kiss and moan into his mouth. Staring into his hazel eyes, his orbs light up, fueling the sensation of your lust. Rubbing circles into your clit, Logan descends your body with a series of longing kisses to each part he passes.

Discarding the fabric from your core, Logan kisses the sensitive skin of each of your thighs, feeling you shake before him. His scruff makes you chuckle as he can hear your heartbeat ringing in his ears. Licking your folds, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you watch Logan become more and more mesmerized by you.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” He whispers in the dark.

Connecting his lips with your clit, a moan escapes from your lips. Pushing his tongue past your entrance, Logan holds your hips in place to keep you from squirming. Gripping the thin comforter, you squeeze your eyes shut, unable to handle the heat rising in your face.

Watching you from afar, Logan continues to eat you out in a steady fashion, letting you enjoy the moment. Running your fingers through his thick hair, you can feel a butterfly sensation rising up to your core. Sensing your body working with his, Logan gently squeezes your hips, lifting you just a touch. Tasting your orgasm reaching its end, your toes curl against the bedding and you cum against Logan’s tongue.

Gasping for air, Logan crawls before you, and his entire physique comes to life. His strong muscles and veins don’t frighten you like so many others, but here everything about him brings you comfort. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Logan balances himself over you, still making sure this is what you want.

“I want you, Logan. All of you, I trust you.” You declare, wrapping your arms around him.

Your vow brings the thought of tears to his tortured eyes, knowing that he has truly deserved this moment.

Lovingly holding his face, Logan briefly touches the tip of your nose with his.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He responds.

“You won’t.” You advise him.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Logan rubs the tip of his cock in time with your folds, sending excitement through his veins. Sliding himself past your entrance, the two of you look at each other, sharing a loving moan. Thrusting his hips together, Logan longs to be deep inside you. He wanted to forget about the world and get lost in you.

Burying his face in your neck, Logan leaves no space between the two of you. Moving in time with his loving thrusts, the sensation of Logan’s manhood against your walls felt like a new stress reliever that you didn’t know you needed. Surrendering to this new wave of euphoria, your fingers run along the strong muscles along Logan’s back, touching the flexing fibers beneath his hot skin. Sinking deeper into you, Logan finds your sensitive spot, causing you to aggressively scratch his back.

Clutching the back of his head, the new scars heal within seconds, whilst Logan slightly groans from the light ripple of pain. A burning sensation of heat starts to rise in your core, you could no longer handle the tension, and Logan continues to ride out the remainder of your orgasm in pure awe of you. Gasping for air, Logan surrounds his arms around your body, and rolls the two of you on your sides.

Pressing his forehead on yours, Logan’s warmth cascades over you, giving you a blanket of warmth in the cool room. Shifting in his arms, he gently runs his fingers through your hair, just as you trace his dimples.

“Well, thank you for a very interesting night, Logan.” You whisper.

Smiling, the two of you share a loving laugh together, and Logan pulls the comforter over you, succumbing to the warmth beneath the blanket.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@miss1sarcasmo

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@foursthemagicknumber

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siddyyyyyyyy · 6 months ago

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You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.8k

summary: child soldier joins task force141, stuff is complicated

warnings: violence, brief discussion of child soldiers

a/n: got this idea from somewhere, it marinated in my drafts for about half a year lol; second part

Waiting at the back of the base, Ghost is leaning against the building, waiting on the new addition to the Task Force. As if they even need one. Price sent him to meet the recruit, telling him the new asset should be highly trained and good for the team. Maybe he's right, but five people on the team seem too much for Ghost. Whatever criticism he has, they don't matter now since Price got you into the team anyway, meaning there's no going back unless you manage to mess up badly. Soap passes him by, having a clue on why he's waiting outside right now.

»Waiting on the new recruit?«

He gives a grunt as a response. »Supposedly, they're highly trained and an 'asset' to us.« Soap nods and wishes him good luck, but also prays for the recruit. Meeting Ghost as the first of the team might be scary for the new recruit, but Price probably doesn't really care about that or he wants that to happen. God knows what his plan is; no one really knows.

Some time passes after the interaction before a truck arrives with you in it, a smaller figure popping out of the vehicle once it stopped near Ghost. He doesn't register what he sees in front of him for a moment, too focused on the truck driving away, before properly taking a look at you. While about two heads smaller than him, you have a rather slim build but a gloomy appearance around you. And you're... not older than bloody fifteen. There's no way. That's either a bad joke or you just look incredibly young.

»Name?« Once his gruff voice reaches you, you can't help but already tense up slightly more than before. He looks intimidating, yes, but you're sure he should be your future teammate. Eventually, you briefly introduce yourself, and he is also very sure that he's got the right person in front of him. The new asset. Ghost isn't one to be nosy or ask personal questions, but he needs to really bite back on asking about your age. You look way too young to be here. Let alone meet him in person.

»And you're Ghost, right?« You ask carefully, standing right in front of him with a respective distance. With how stoic your expression is... you're too much like his younger self. Maybe Ghost thinks too much of it, but he hopes you didn't need to go through the same thing he did.

He gives you back a small nod, uncrossing his arms and sizing you up for a second longer before turning around to the door. Walking into the base without saying another word and expecting you to follow him just like that. Pretty scary, to be honest.

You don't know much, but being added to a team of four, not sure what their intentions are with either you or in general. Maybe it's better when he doesn't talk much to you; the less you know, the better. But the base looks too clean and organised for any shady stuff to go on. But you could also be easily mistaken. Looking around, you spot only a few soldiers walking by, how simple it's decorated inside, and it isn't cold like in other buildings. After some long corridors, he stops at a double door, a small sign next to the doors with 'Briefing Room' written on it. Ah, good to know.

Ghost eyes you for a hot second before opening one of the doors and walking in, following behind him once again. Walking in, you see three other men in the room already, looking less intimidating than this ‘Ghost guy‘. »Nice to meet you and welcome to the team.« Another deep but more soft voice greets you, a man with a beard and fisherman's hat giving you a small nod. His gaze hardens for a moment too, like Ghost's did before when first meeting you. He also realises something is wrong. You nod back as a small form of greeting, mumbling out a formal greeting back.

»Kid, tell me. How old are you'?« He asks as he straightens his posture and awaits your answer, tilting his head a bit to the side. It‘s clear this man doesn‘t beat around the bush and goes straight to the point. The other two men in the room stay quiet, silently watching and studying you as well. One with a mowhawk exchanges a look with the tall, scary guy, Ghost, before glancing to the captain.

»There was no age on your file, so I'm just curious.« He adds to his question, sounding polite even though you can clearly hear the suspicion and probably even concern in his voice. Taking a deep breath, you try to be honest, but you're also afraid of the consequences of being honest. There are four men after all, all taller than you, seemingly much bigger and stronger. You know how to fight, but it still gives you chills standing in this room with unfamiliar men, all alone.

»I'm sixteen, sir.« Is your answer and voice steady and calm even though your body language betrays you. Your whole body stays still, with hands behind your back, seemingly waiting for any possible attack or threat to come right your way. It's silent while you look around the faces of them, seeing both surprise and disbelief in almost all of them. Only Ghost stays unwavering, but that might just be his balaclava covering his whole face. He knew something was wrong but wasn't sure enough to ask you that same question earlier, having figured that his captain knew enough anyway to avoid this situation. It stays silent for another beat until the captain sighs out, leaning his hands onto the table in front of him.

»And what's a sixteen-year-old doing in such a place?« He asks you, even though he could ask that question himself. How could he allow this? Is that why there was no age to your file? And are there more poor children like you? It's obvious they're all against something like a 'child soldier‘ in their team, even when you‘re a teen by now. »I was sent here to be an asset to your team.« You answer him, deciding it's better to talk and communicate rather than stay silent and listen to the thick silence.

»Captain, that's-« »Another word and you're out, Gaz.« The guy with the cap is interrupted by the captain's loud voice, giving out a clear warning. You notice how tense it feels in the room, sensing just how badly this could go wrong. Price takes a short breath before turning his attention back to you, standing at his full height once again.

»What do you know? About this, I mean. Do you even know our names? What we're doing?« You simply shake your head, staying stoic and calm even though you have the strong urge to run out of the room, knowing you‘re most likely not welcome in this room. But you won‘t; you've learnt to stay put and stand your ground, to not show any weakness no matter what.

»Kid...« He sighs out, trying to find a way to put this correctly, »Okay, let's start with you first. Tell us about yourself.« This is much kinder than you thought this would be. No one's glaring at you besides one particular shadow in the corner, but that just seems to be in his nature. You answer him, your voice being as steady and calm as possible, while telling them about yourself.

»I've been trained professionally for nearly nine years, been on the field since then. My specialisations are weapon handling, sabotage, sniper techniques, and demolitions.«

You state, carefully picking your words and telling them information about yourself that seems to be most necessary for now. Price stares at you for a few seconds, all eyes on you, while the mowhawk and Ghost are occasionally exchanging looks with each other, seemingly unsure about you. It seems like the captain is thinking before speaking up once more, having decided it.

»That's a lot for sixteen years. You must be real good if you were sent here, no? I think you have potential.« »Price, are you serious-« The mowhawk snaps, glaring at his captain before glancing back to you shortly. »That's a kid.« He hisses, completely thrown off with his captain's easy acceptance of you in their team. »I agree, Cap'. There's no way we'll have a child soldier on our side.« Baseball cap, Gaz, chimes in and tries to convince Price otherwise of you.

It feels both refreshing but also scary when someone talks like this about you, not being used to someone recognising the falseness of this, but you're also afraid if they decide to not accept you into the team. All you can do is watch.

»There's no safer place than here for a kid like this. And the mission is too soon to search for other assets.« He argues back, thinking it's better for you here than anywhere else. He's not wrong; you're in better hands now. The thing is that you have no knowledge of who these people are or what they're fighting for. Or anything else, really.

»Trust me, Soap.« The captain reassures him, Soap, the mowhawk guy, taking his eyes back to you. It's uneasy for you when you know how none of them like the idea of you in the team but the captain. And that's pretty much the only thing keeping you in this task force for now.

»Sorry. We'll keep you in the team, but if you aren't really that good, then we'll have to get rid of you.« The captain's words cut right through you, understanding that this might be a warning for you. That, if you let yourself down or don't show your everything, this might be your end. But maybe he also just said it to scare you. Which worked either way, not wanting to disappoint him. »I understand, sir.« You nod, glancing around the other faces once more quickly as if to remember their faces. ----

Not knowing their names is difficult, having no idea how to ask them for it as well. Wait for them to introduce themselves? Might take longer than some missions. Ask them yourself? No, that's too embarrassing, right? I mean, the captain mentioned their names before in the briefing room, but you just couldn't remember them that quickly. Especially with the situation you were in. But asking them yourself might be a good idea too; practicing social skills and trying to get to know what their intentions are would be a good start.

Looking around yourself, you see only how everyone's preparing for the mission. After the briefing ended, the captain announced that you're all heading out, not able to waste any more time. The mowhawk guy, also the closest to your height, is preparing his guns and picking out some more stuff for himself. Besides him, there's the guy with the baseball cap, and he's doing pretty much the same as his teammate. They look harmless like this, but it's just the fact that these are men, all too unfamiliar to be comfortable around them yet.

Ghost is the only more scary and silent one among them, knowing not to mess with him just by looking at him. The captain is by the helicopter, talking to the pilot and seemingly going over the plan or route once more.

So, there's two people not doing much but preparing themselves, one who's waiting for everyone to be ready and the captain who is busy talking to someone already. Now's your chance, but also not. It doesn't feel right to just walk up to them and start talking, not used to such casual interactions back at your camp. But staring at them isn't really polite either, so you take your eyes off the poor men and instead study the helicopter while strapping on your gear. ----

Sitting in the helicopter is much more interesting, there are more buttons, more extra buttons, interesting technology, and other stuff to look at. Good thing you're sitting next to the captain, too afraid to move the wrong way as if he would care about that in the first place.

He's more focused on the mission and if everything is going according to plan. The others don't seem as nervous or excited in the first place, just like you being rather stoic or focused. To your left sits the scot, he is not looking your way, instead checking out the helicopter's interior as well. Looking straight in front of you, there's Ghost and the most normal-looking one. You could basically ask them their names now, but that could come off as awkward too.

Maybe earlier was a better idea than now... »What's your name again?« Asks the rough voice from your right, looking straight at you. You glance at him and answer him shortly with your name. He nods in response, gesturing to the opposite of him, and goes on.

»That's Gaz. On his right, there's Ghost. And on your left, there's Soap. These are our call signs. I'm Captain Price, sorry for not introducing ourselves earlier.«

Hm, that's very nice of him, actually. You'd never thought he would be so soft spoken, even with his rather rough and raspy voice. But the way he introduces everyone gives you hope that this team might be just a chill and friendly one.

You nod back in return, considering shortly what to say to that. »Nice.« Soap smirks just lightly at your short response, the same goes to Gaz, who after that short introduction looks away once more. Ghost's eyes stay on you for longer, either sizing you up or just staring. Well, there goes your social skills, having thought too much about speaking up and how not to be awkwa-

»What'd you know about guns? You said you specialise in weapon handling.« This is on your left side this time, Soap, if you remember correctly. Your attention is on him now, answering his question after processing it quickly.

»Like, what kind of guns there are or what I have with me?« You ask back, unsure of what to reply exactly to him. He clarifies himself, shifting slightly in his seat to face you better. He tries again, asking you more about what kind of guns are your favourites and if you know some of the mechanics of them and how to tune your gun.

You learn a lot about tuning your gun or rifle, not having been taught that much in your camp. Even though you both haven't talked much, it still felt like you learnt a lot through him. Some would say talking about guns isn't appropriate with a teenager, but is there anything else to talk about with you anyway?

As soon as the helicopter landed and Soap had mostly rambled to you about guns, you're all ready to walk out and officially start the mission. It was rather simple, the plan is to clear a three-story building, get the intel and leave. It shouldn't take any longer than an hour, depends on how many difficulties there are going to be.

After the last few commands of the captain, it starts, pairing up in groups of two while Price goes to the front. Soap is by your side like before, while Ghost and Gaz are in front of you.The atmosphere shifts, and everyone is dead focused, having no place for mistakes. The task of clearing out the building wasn't difficult, it was difficult to actually focus on getting the intel. It was in the basement of the rather big house, only able to get in after having actually cleared out the entire area. After that's done, it goes straight to it, and there was no going back.

Your stomach drops once you reach the basement, it's silent but also so loud you can't hear what the others are saying. Several dead bodies, a dimly lit lamp from the ceiling, the intel in the corner, inside of a USB-stick next to the computer. Price steps in and first puts the stick in to check if it is really what's needed. After a few seconds of loading, it turns out that, yes, it's exactly the information you're here for.

You're finally able to breathe once Price turns around with the intel in hand before giving a firm nod, ready to go back out and return to base. The stench of the dead bodies was torture for you, let alone how dark it was in the room and how silent it was. Walking out was way easier, almost running out as the first one. But outside, there was another surprise. Right as the team went out of the basement, there was another team of soldiers, having just entered the hallway. One wrong move and you're done for, that's for sure.

Your adrenaline skyrockets and makes you act on impulse, shooting two soldiers down with clean head shots. They stop staring and act, one rushing right at you with a knife, probably thinking that’s an easier way instead of shooting at you. Thanks to your aggression that’s mostly caused by your adrenaline rush, you’re quick to block and counterattack him. The enemy soldier is clearly taller than you, but for some reason not hard to fight with at all. You quickly jab his side, which makes him gasp for air; using the distraction to choke him before stabbing him at his other side repeatedly. He cries out and winces before you let go, him holding onto his injured side and falling to his knees. You grab a fire extinguisher from the wall and hit his back with it until he collapses, aiming at his head until you’re sure he is done for. The team took out the rest and glanced to where the loud bangs were coming from, only seeing how you hit the soldier one last time before the fire extinguisher fell from your sweaty palms.

A look of surprise washes over their faces until Nikolai talks into the earpieces, informing you he’s waiting right outside with his helicopter, having about a minute before he needs to fly away.

Once the enemies are out, you're quick to leave the building all together and indeed, see the helicopter of Nikolai. Loaded in and safe, it feels like you've just run a whole marathon. Sitting down at one of the seats with a sigh, you relax your muscles as much as you can. Nikolai’s voice chimes in through the headset you're all wearing once again, all loud and clear and almost as soft spoken as Price's voice. Maybe a bit more warm than the captains, but laced with an accent. The conversation only consists of updating and some light jokes afterwards, it’s mostly quiet. The low grumble of the helicopter is the only thing filling the silence inside, not that it's uncomfortable. It's almost relaxing to finally be safe and at peace for now, even if it's just the way back.

That basement earlier took up some courage in you to go in and stay grounded, not to think too much and focus on the obvious. The surprise attack afterwards sure was surprising but nothing too challenging. The seat was strangely comfortable now after the mission, it's getting darker now anyways as the sun sets and your sore legs are able to have a time out for now. In fact, it's so comfortable that you need to force yourself to stay awake now.

Sandwiched between Price and Soap once more is enough to keep you awake, but not for long. Falling asleep seemed impossible in a room with these four guys at first but now you're napping against the shoulder of Price. Eyes closed and breathing steady, body very much relaxed. Price, on the other hand, is as stiff as a rock right now, not wanting to wake you or make this awkward. Gaz is pretty much amused at the sight in front of him, needing to resist a chuckle. The way you're just so relaxed and napping while Price is as tense as steel is also amusing to the other two teammates.

»We're almost there, just five more minutes.« Nikolai’s thick Russian accent is heard through the mic into the headsets, while Price is feeling relieved that you took your own off headset earlier. It's silent, so Nikolai speaks again, confused on why it's silent.

»Everybody alright?« He asks slowly, awaiting for someone to answer positively. »Rookie fell asleep. Trying t' stay quiet.« Ghost answers quietly back, and Nikolai has to fight back the urge to turn around in his seat and take a look himself. A low chuckle escapes him eventually as he shakes his head lightly and continues flying everyone back to base. ----

The debrief was... calm. Awfully calm. No one's arguing, and no one is yelling for no reason, it's just so casual but professional. Maybe your camp was abusive or at least unprofessional, but this almost feels too calm. It feels as if something will go wrong any second, but it doesn't.

Captain is telling everyone what he found on the USB stick, and the new plan and information are being displayed on the wall by a projector. He's going straight to the point and just tells the obvious, facing the team that is seated at a long table. The next big mission should be in about two weeks until everything is planned, it being a more complicated raid, with the main point of taking held hostages from a big building. Eventually, once he's done, his eyes lock on you and seem to become more serious.

»Before this mission, we'll need to train you as much as possible, so you won't make mistakes. Or worse.« You nod in return, already seeing yourself training day and night and trying to improve impossibly fast.

»We'll train all together and work on our teamwork. As well as spare a few rounds together, hm? Sound good?« You nod once more, feeling like this might actually be more pleasant than hard work like your usual training was. »Good.« You reply back, and once everything is settled, everyone can retreat back into their bunks and rest for tonight. ----

This night was restless for you like every other. Sleeping at a completely different and strange place is always off-setting at first. The bed is normal-sized, and there's nothing you would complain about in your own bunk, you just need to get used to it. Or maybe it was the one-hour nap you took before in the helicopter that prevents you from sleeping now. You're just glad no one addressed it later on after you woke up. Tossing and turning, you eventually fall asleep after several hours from exhaustion.

a/n: don't worry, there will be more chapters, just have to refresh my brain about my plot since I haven't touched it in a while... hope you still enjoyed it!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

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Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival.

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you?

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you.

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you.

“Smells good,” Sy startles you.

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack.

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?”

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day.

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers.

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom.

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar.

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it.

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard.

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?”

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying.

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.”

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time.

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable.

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly.

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short.

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?”

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.”

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles.

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.”

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal.

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.”

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?”

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?”

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.”

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--”

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?”

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?”

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.”

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise.

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--”

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.”

“Don,” Sy grits.

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.”

“I’m not,” Sy insists.

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.”

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.”

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls.

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--”

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--”

“Don’t--”

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--”

“Don, you have some respect for her--”

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.”

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves.

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs.

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--”

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--”

“Stop.”

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--”

“You don’t treat her right--”

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.”

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.”

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--”

“I been nice, Don--”

“Boo fucking h--”

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move.

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be.

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls.

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there?

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean?

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove.

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing?

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash.

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you.

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop.

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...”

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously.

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene.

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly.

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick.

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers.

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.”

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #not a word #series #sand castle #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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blond3ang3l · 12 days ago

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"Keep going bunny. Since your apparently do it so often when I'm not here. Let me see how you really are behind my back." This was so embarrassing to get caught doing. Your boyfriend was gone for almost a week cause of work and you were one to get worked up easily. Unfortunately for you he came home and caught you with your plushie between your thick thighs grinding against it. The soft whimpers and pants that fell from you were too distinct so he knew you were getting close. It was a beautiful sight to him. He wanted to surprise you by coming over and instead he got an even better one.

He wiped the tears that started to drip from your eyes at the overwhelming need to cum, but no matter how much you did it was like you couldn't. Nothing felt as good as him and he knew that.

" Please B, mm help me." You pleaded to the older man. His dark grin only widened as he saw you getting desperate. Usually you'd be so shy, making him turn your plushies away when you did anything, but now you were making a mess all over your favorite one. His large hand grabbed your face with a taunt. His free one went into your drawer that was next to your side of the bed.

The hand on your jaw moved your head up so you were looking directly at him. He took in your dumbed down look. The neediness hiding (just barely) in your glossy eyes. The way your face had a slight tint of red from you being frustrated at not being able to cum. "Can you ask nicely, hm? Ask the right way and I might think about it. You let out a small sob only making him smirk. His grip tightened as his hand moved from your jaw to your chest, lifting up the shirt which just so happened to be his that you wore.

He didn't have to worry about you breaking eye contact with him and moving your head. You knew better. The rough hand grabbed and smacked at your chest making you whine. "C'mon bunny. Why do I have to repeat myself? You want something then what do you do?" He taunted.

Your head was practically spinning at this point. He always dumbed you down whenever he was around. How could you resist? He was everything you wanted in a man. He made all the decisions and did everything for you so it was bound to happen that your brain would turn off around him. "Have to ask nicely." Your answer earned you a smirk from your boyfriend. Anyone else would think that reply would have made him happy, but you knew it egged him on.

"Go ahead. I'm waiting bunny." Your smaller hand moved to his that was still harshly groping your chest. "Please. Daddy I need your help. S' not the same as you. Butcher gave a small hum of acknowledgement before pressing his lips against yours. The gloss you wore getting all over his lips and a bit in his beard. The temporary distraction quickly ended when you felt your vibrator against your most sensitive parts making you throw your head back.

Your legs instinctively closed shut only for him to force them open. " Nuh uh, none of that shit. You're gonna take this punishment or I'm gonna draw it out real long." Your hands grabbed at his arm that he had wrapped around your waist as your hips bucked into the wand repeatedly. Your moans bounced off the wall and filled Butchers ears much to his delight. "H-hah! Fuck, m' so close daddy. Can I cum?"

Butcher gave a chuckle at your begging before turning up the speed. Within seconds you felt your orgasm come over you. Your hips stuttered as the sticky mess between your thighs, on the bed, and on your plushie grew tenfold. Your breaths started to grow shaky and sounded more like whines mixed with pants. He wiped away the last few remaining tears as your legs twitched. "There you go, so good f' me. Lay down okay? Let me clean you up." You have a small nod as he pressed his lips against your cheek. Having a older boyfriend was more fun than people led on..

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#spotify #fanfic #x character #x reader #x black reader #x black plus size reader #x black male reader #x male reader #x bottom male reader #smut #butcher x reader #the boys x reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut #billy butcher #the boys fanfic #the boys smut

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loganhowlettshousewife · 2 months ago

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logan howlett x latina!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

“i need to learn spanish,” logan says out of the blue as you’re carefully doing your makeup. he likes to watch you get ready in the mornings, and though you don’t understand his fascination with the process you’ve been doing for years, it’s nice to have him around.

“is there a reason for this?” you ask, trying not to allow the conversation to distract you from the task at hand. you’ve gotten good at this, at both getting ready and talking to him, having conversations about everything and nothing, the kind of conversations he would never have with anyone else.

you met logan a few months ago, when he accompanied a group of mutant kids to canada, almost dying in the process to save them. he’d been on the verge of death when you found him, skin sallow and pale from the intense blood loss, breathing ragged. it hits you sometimes how lucky you are to have found him in time, to have been able to bring him back to his daughter - every day you’re infinitely grateful.

he’s struggled to adapt to life here. eden, a sanctuary for mutants that reminds him a bit too much of the x-mansion, the place where everything in his life went wrong. where he’d let his guard down little by little, letting people see past his mask, making relationships only to watch them all die. he could do nothing to save them.

so he hardly interacts with anyone other than you and laura kinney, his daughter, though lately she’s decided she wants everyone to call her laura howlett. the look on logan’s face when he told you was one you’d never forget: joy and fear and confusion, adoration for his little girl tinged with the anxiety of knowing that anyone close to him usually suffered terribly.

“laura,” he grumbles, which is the answer you expected. despite living in mexico for quite a few years, he didn’t pick up much spanish, and certainly not enough to understand laura’s rapid-fire quips. “she always says shit in spanish when she doesn’t want me to know what she’s sayin’.”

you laugh. laura’s a bright kid, and it’s true that she enjoys insulting logan in spanish, but only at the same frequency as her english insults towards him. most of the time her spanish comments are neither good nor bad, just stream of consciousness comments. she enjoys logan’s frustration at not being able to understand her, so really it doesn’t matter what she says, just that he hears it.

“i can try to teach you,” you reply, “but i’ve never taught anyone a language before, so be warned i may not be good at it.”

“a lot of people here speak spanish. i didn’t ask them.” logan says, “you’re the only person i can stand bein’ around for more than a few minutes, so you got a better shot than anyone else.”

you feel a rush of giddy excitement flow through you in response to his words. it’s not a secret that you find logan horribly, unbearably attractive with his salt-and-pepper hair and his beard and his deep eyes and his arms and honestly you could spend hours listing every one of his attractive features.

the point is, you want to kiss him stupid, and with the way he lingers around you in moments like these, makeup half-done and your bedsheets still rumpled from sleep, makes you hope that he might feel the same. maybe spending more time together is just what you need to figure it out.

“we can start tomorrow.” you agree.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

latina reader: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @taextannie @gl1ndathegoodwitch @uncertified-doc

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ponett · 10 months ago

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Do you have any advice for people making OCs/sonas? Yours are really well rounded and unique and I'd greatly appreciate the insight of someone who got a passion project off the ground!

So this is a very broad topic, and it varies a lot based on your own creative goals, what kind of characters you're creating, and where you want to use them. Creating an OC to be used in furry pinups is a little different than creating one for a dramatic story. But I'll try to give some general advice on how I do things for the types of characters and stories I tend to work with

Heads up: this will be kinda long lol

The germ of an idea

For me, I'll generally be inspired to create a character starting with a small number of core traits. These could be anything. A color scheme, a body type, a job, a hobby, a personality archetype, an outfit, a visual motif, a functional role in a story I'm working on, a noteworthy facial feature, a weapon, a relationship of some sort to an existing character, a single scene or joke I want to use them for. For furries and fantasy characters, species is usually one of the first things I'll have an idea for, which tends to get the ball rolling fairly easily since we have all sorts of cultural associations with different animals and fantasy creatures.

Any standout character trait like this that you find compelling can serve as that initial spark. The inspiration can come from anywhere, but it's often just a matter of knowing yourself and your own tastes. What do you like? What are the people in your life like? What really speaks to you in a character? What's an existing fictional character that you'd like to rewrite and take in a different direction? What's an aspect of yourself that you would like to see represented more often in fiction? It doesn't have to be something super deep or fleshed out right from the start, though. You can start with something as simple as "I want a black cat character" or "I want a character who dresses like an arcade carpet" or "I want a character who looks scary but is actually nice." Whatever it is, it's something that differentiates the new character from the ones I already have, because otherwise I'd just be using them.

Contrast

From there, you can start brainstorming other traits that might go with those core traits. Some of those may be traits that naturally complement each other. Continuing with the black cat example, maybe you wanna play into the common cultural perception of black cats and say that this character brings bad luck, or is associated with witchcraft. However, I often like to give characters contrasting or even seemingly contradictory traits, which can help elevate a character beyond a stock archetype. Real people tend to be a walking ball of contradictions, after all.

I've talked a lot about how I did this with the main cast of SLARPG. Melody is a fox, traditionally a crafty and untrustworthy predator, but she's extremely introverted and gentle. Allison is a bunny, but instead of being a meek and cuddly little prey animal she's an outgoing fighter who loves a challenge, and she has a muscular build. I think this kind of thing gives characters some fun flavor, and can be really effective for both comedy and drama. For an example from something I didn't write, take Senshi from Dungeon Meshi. He's a dwarf, and he embodies certain stereotypical aspects of dwarves - he's a short, buff man with a big bushy beard, he lives underground, he's stubborn and doesn't like elven magic - but he also goes against some of them. Instead of being an expert on mining and blacksmithing, Senshi is a culinary expert who has a deep appreciation for the natural ecosystem of the dungeon. He's a weirdo among dwarves for not caring about the wellbeing of his axe and for using his super awesome shield primarily as a giant wok. And that's what makes Senshi fun and interesting.

So going back to our example, instead of going with the stereotype, we could make a black cat character who has comically good luck, or who's superstitious and afraid of witchcraft, or who's an extremely rational person who always believes in science over superstition. Or maybe you roll with the bad luck angle, but instead make the black cat be the victim of their own bad luck in some interesting way. Maybe this black cat has terrible luck with love and can't hold down a relationship. Maybe this black cat is an aspiring speedrunner who consistently gets the absolute worst RNG possible in every video game due to their own bad luck. Maybe this black cat has accrued a horrendous gambling debt after a long losing streak and has loan sharks coming after them.

These are all just hypothetical examples, of course. I don't exclusively make characters with ironic contradictions like this. The idea is just to build on those core traits you started with in interesting ways, and that's one of my favorite ways to do so. But honestly, a lot of the time execution is more important than the sheer originality of an idea, and sometimes really putting your all into playing a trope you love straight is the right move.

Specificity

Regardless of what direction I take a character in past that initial seed of an idea, the key ingredient tends to be specificity. To give them specific details beyond the most stock possible version of that core idea you started with.

This is something I internalized from Tim Schafer, via a blog post in the behind-the-scenes backer material for Broken Age. Sadly I'm not sure if that stuff is still available, but I did save this particular post about creating characters since it really helped me, so I'll directly quote a chunk of that post here:

No two characters would approach a problem or react to events in the same way. At least, not if you’ve designed the characters well. If you’ve left them too vague or superficial, if they are merely functional elements in your story instead of individuals, then they might react in the same way. And that’s a problem. So to avoid that, I’m going to talk about one the most important parts of character development: specificity. Making sure your character is a specific individual, not a stereotype. A unique character, different from anyone else in the world. It doesn’t mean that they have to have wacky gimmicks, eyepatches and crazy accents. It just means they have to be specific. For example, let's create a new character. Let's say your story has a scene where your main character gets in trouble in school. So you’re probably going to need a school teacher. Imagine a school teacher for a bit. Do you see her in a little red schoolhouse? Maybe a bun in her hair? An apple on her desk? Thick black glasses? Let’s put a ruler in her hand for good measure. Done! We have our teacher character. She’s ready to be in the scene where our hero goes to school and the teacher sends her to the principal’s office for passing notes. Right? I mean, this character doesn’t have too many lines, so why develop her character any more? The problem is that this teacher is a very shallow stereotype of a teacher. She has no specific attributes that make her memorable. She’s the teacher you would get in a set of free clip art. She might not have many lines, but if all your supporting characters are this way, your story will be more bland than it should be. Even if this teacher is only onscreen for a minute, she should be unique and different from any other teacher in the world. Luckily, it's not actually that hard to make her so. You just have to ask some very basic, specific questions.

Tim goes on to explain how simple exercises like filling out character sheets with basic questions about your character (there are a million of these online) can help push a character beyond a stock archetype, even if it's a minor supporting character. Questions about where they're from, their likes and dislikes, their beliefs, their goals in life, that sort of thing. For minor characters especially, a lot of these details may never actually come up in a story, but just asking even a few of these questions and giving them specific answers helps you see them less like an archetype and more like a real person in your head. Maybe you never bring up your character's backstory or their favorite sport or what kind of music they listen to, but just having a specific answer for questions like that might help color the way you depict that character in subtle ways. It makes it feel like they aren't defined by just that one core trait you started with, and helps make the characters and world feel more alive, like there's stuff going on with them beyond the bounds of the story or the drawing.

It's a careful balancing act, though. It's easy for a character to feel like they're a collection of too many unrelated gimmicks and quirks. Again, like Tim said, these specifics don't have to make for the craziest, most original character ever, there just has to be something there.

Let's go back to SLARPG as an example, where I combined broad character archetypes I liked with more specific personal elements that I felt like I wasn't seeing enough in the fiction I liked. Melody is riffing on the common idea of the reserved healer character in the RPG or MMO party and the shy girl archetype, but she's the main hero instead of a supporting player in another person's story, and she's also a fat bisexual trans woman who draws a lot of little details from my own life. Her interests, her relationships, her opinions on things, her personal hangups and dreams, these all set Melody apart from other fantasy healer characters and define her as Melody Amaranth. Specificity!

But it doesn't always have to be super deep, especially if you just want some characters to draw for fun and aren't planning on writing a story with them. Take my fursona. I've always loved dogs, so I made my fursona a dog. I chose a Samoyed in particular because I think Samoyeds are the cutest, and I hadn't seen hardly any anthro Samoyed OCs at the time. I leaned into the breed's signature fluffiness to help my fursona stand out from other canine OCs. She has simple identifying traits like being fat like me, wearing glasses like mine, and having a hairstyle kinda like mine (when I tied my hair up in a bun, at least). And there you go. Fursona achieved. She's not a wildly high concept character, but she doesn't need to be

Anyway I realize that this is mostly about the writing aspect, so here's a few quick bullet points about designing a character's appearance:

Face and body type variety are good, but personally I would say lack of body type variety is worse than same face syndrome

Knowing some stuff about shape language is good, but you don't have to be completely beholden to the "circles are friendly, squares are sturdy, triangles are scary" shit. I'm generally more interested in using repeated shaping in different parts of a character's design as sort of a shape motif. Melody's body, hair, and tail are all made of round, swooping shapes, for example. (This is more applicable if you're designing cartoonier characters as opposed to realistic humans, obviously.)

Knowing some basics of color theory is also good. I like using complementary and contiguous color schemes on characters and generally try not to use too many distinct colors on one design. Black and white and grey and various browns are good as neutral colors to balance out the colors of the rainbow, and gold can be a nice accent color

A small handful of identifying accessories can be fun, but don't rely on those to make a design stand out. Ideally your character should still be identifiable even when not wearing their default outfit, or even in silhouette

Aaaaaand I'm gonna call it a wrap there! This is a huge topic, so hopefully this helps with at least some of the basics! At the end of the day, though, don't beat yourself up if you can't sit down and force yourself to come up with the most crazy awesome OC ever. Just have fun and be yourself!

#rakruined #ask #slarpg asks

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ruskaroma · 2 years ago

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could you do a little drabble of an au of the reader and jw on their wedding night and tbe reader is like pure and naive and loosing her virginity to john 🤭🤍🪷

oh my god.. can i shake this up a little bit?

arranged marriage with john wick.

let’s say you’re the only child of a very powerful mob syndicate, and all your parents wanted is the best for you, so they don’t want you going around fucking with other guys that are below they’re status because it might ruin the reputation they’ve worked so hard to achieve.

so they kept you isolated.

you’re homeschooled, the only friends you have are the maids, the children of those maids and gardeners, you rarely go outside – and if you do, you have a bunch of bodyguards following you around everywhere you go.

of course, you don’t question it. you know your parents only want the best for you, and you know how dangerous it is to live in a world like this. you can’t exactly blame your parents.

when you turned 20, your father introduced you to a man named john wick.

he’s the definition of tall, dark, and handsome you keep reading about in the books. late forties or mid fifties, you don’t exactly know. you just know that he’s a lot older and probably knows better.

your father had explained how you’re going to be marrying john and you were beyond ecstatic upon hearing the news. having a companion in life could open up to so many different opportunities. it didn’t matter that you just met this man. there’s so much time to learn about each other as you two plan for the wedding.

you didn’t ask your parents why they’re suddenly letting you marry a man because simply don’t care. too naïve for your own good. you didn’t know that your parents are only paying their debt to john and you were the only thing in their life that they could just simply give away.

fast forward to the night of your wedding day, let’s say that you aren’t expecting john to be so... rough during your lovemaking.

his actions are rough but his words are soft. it’s confusing you. you thought honeymoons are supposed to be sweet and slow, yet here you are getting fucked on the bed like some kind of cheap whore as john pulls your hair from behind and whispers filthy praises in your ear like there’s no tomorrow.

“my pretty little wife,” john grunts, snapping his hips against your ass, burying his cock so far deep into your little cunt that you could feel it in your stomach. you drool, stumbling over your words. “my wife got the best pussy – so fucking tight and pink. i bet you’ve never let anyone touch you like this before, hm? only me? only your husband?”

“y-yes – yes, john, o-only you!” you sob, clutching the bedsheets in your first as your pussy clench around his dick. “f-feel so full, j-john, feel s-so full – so big.”

“that means you’re doing a great job, baby,” he praises, letting go of your hair to drop his head on your neck, peppering kisses all over as his beard tickles your skin. “my little wife is taking my cock so well. you’re gonna have to get used to it, baby, because i can assure you that i’ll be fucking your sweet little cunt every single day that i come back home. gonna get you so nice and full again like this.”

#ask #drabble #concept #my works #THIS IS RUSHED IM SAWRY #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick imagine #john wick smut #john wick #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves smut #jw

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that-basic-simp · 11 months ago

Text

The Ronin and The Bride

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 2.6k+ Uses mostly he/him pronouns for Mizu until towards the end.

"You're a lot younger than I expected you to be," I said as I was standing in front of my soon to be husband.

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

"Take it as you will," I said, turning away from him.

My mother arranged this marriage as she was starting to get older and prone to more accidents if she wasn't taken care of. I think it was an excuse to get some money after my father passed away. And I couldn't really bring in money no matter how many jobs I took on. And my mother was always selling her body to any man she would to get money. It was never enough and so deciding to marry me off to someone was the best option.

"Let's get this over with," I sighed.

Once everything was said and done, my mother was milling about the small house my husband owns. It wasn't the best for us, but it held the three of us and that was all that mattered. There was a small little farm in the back where we could grow our own vegetables. There were even some cattle in the back as well. So there really wasn't much for us to worry about when it came to food, as there was plenty already harvested and ready to be prepared.

"What's your name?" I turned to the man.

"Mizu," he said, removing his Kasa from his head. "Yours?"

"Y/N," I said.

"Nice to meet you."

"What did you do before getting married?"

"I killed people," was all he said and bluntly.

"Like a samurai? A lord's swordsman?"

"No. I don't really know what to call it."

"A ronin, maybe?"

"That might work."

"Are you still killing people?"

"I," Mizu let out a sigh. "I tried to. But it seems people find me and want to kill me for what I've done."

"And what have you done?"

"Kill people."

"Right," I said. "They want to get revenge on the person who killed someone they knew."

"I was out for revenge," Mizu said.

"You were?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What for?"

Mizu stood up and opened the door, walking out. I let out a sigh as my mother shook her head at me. I stood up and went after Mizu, but he was nowhere to be found. Not even where the tools were to shear the sheep and tend to the livestock. I turned and headed back inside, preparing dinner for us.

When the sun was slowly falling down into the horizon, the door opened up and Mizu walked in. Sweat was running down his forehead and there was something odd about him. He wasn't very masculine for a man. He looked kind of slender, but not very muscular at all. Well, I shouldn't say muscular. I should say, he's not very broad. And there isn't really any facial hair on him. I shouldn't judge. My father had a clean face and whenever his mustache or beard grew in, he'd shave it almost immediately. He didn't care for that kind of look.

I guess I shouldn't really say that Mizu isn't like other men. Maybe that's a good thing. He let out a sigh as he sat down, finding that there were bowls of noddles prepared for him. It wasn't much, but it was what I could do with what he had already here.

Dinner was silent. My mother tried to make conversation with Mizu, but he gave off the impression that he didn't want to talk. Always looking away from her, pretending like he didn't hear, or shrugged his shoulders. There was also another odd thing about him. His glasses. He always wore them, yet again, I've only seen him a couple of times throughout the day. What were they hiding if he was in fact hiding something?

After dinner was finished and cleaned up, my mother went into a different room while Mizu and I were in the same room. He was washing up while I had just finished. It was odd, laying on a mat that wasn't my own. Or I should say, it wasn't in my own house. I didn't feel like I belonged here and that this marriage was going to go anywhere. It felt like Mizu already had a life planned out for himself and now that he has to take care of not only a wife, but his wife's mother, it felt like we were impeding on his life.

Once the door slid open, I looked up and found Mizu's hair to be long and down, past his shoulders. Strange. I know some men have long hair, but I wasn't expecting it to be that long. And silky too, with how the light of the candle reflected off of it. It reminded me of water, like his name. How reflective and wavy it was. And his skin looked soft and gentle, not hard and rough. There was something Mizu wasn't telling me.

"Mizu?" I asked.

"Oh shit," he gasped, jumping slightly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I thought you were asleep."

"I can't."

"It'll take some time to get used to."

"How come you don't really talk to us? To me?"

"I wouldn't blame anything on yourself," Mizu said, getting ready for bed. "I am not really the best person to converse with. I was alone for the majority of my life aside from my adoptive father."

"Who was he?"

"Master Eiji. A sword maker near Kohama village. I grew up there."

"I see."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Kyoto."

"How was it there?"

"It was crowded. Dirty, too."

He snickered, "I thought the same thing."

"When did you go to Kyoto?"

"I had to find the Shindo-dojo and speak to the master there."

"I do remember hearing something of a samurai coming into the dojo and making quite the spectacle."

"That was me. Even though I am not a samurai. I never was."

"Why do you say that?"

"Samurai fight with honor. I had no honor back then. I still don't."

"All the more on why you fit with the ronin," I smiled softly at him.

He nodded before laying down on the mat and blowing out the candle. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but the curiosity behind Mizu's past kept me up.

The weeks went on and they soon turned into months, and Mizu still didn't really open up to me. He asked me a lot of questions, but whenever I would ask him anything of his past, he'd either leave or evade the question. It infuriated me, but one question bothered me.

"Mizu?" I asked as I was helping him with the harvest for this month.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Why did you allow me to marry you?"

He turned his head, finding my curious gaze at him.

"If I am going to be honest, it was the money."

"The money?"

"Yes. Call it selfish, but--"

I cut him off, slapping him in the face. He stumbled backwards slightly, holding his cheek as it was burning red.

"It is selfish!" I sneered at him. "You live out here by yourself, unbothered by people, and yet you buy me like I am being sold to one of those flesh traders. Or even into prostitution."

He was silent now, looking away from me.

"Do you even know how it feels? To be bought and sold just like that? For money being the only driving force to marry someone? You wouldn't know because you're a man! You don't have to worry about those things at all!"

There was something that changed behind those eyes. They always seemed cold and dull, but as soon as I said that, something snapped within Mizu. His eyes widened slightly, before narrowing as he slowly turned his head to face me. There was a raging storm within those eyes and even though I couldn't see his true eye color, I knew they were burning within. He stood up, straightening himself, even though he was a few inches taller than me.

"What do you know about me?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Nothing! I know nothing about you!"

"Exactly. And we're going to keep it that way."

"I don't even know why I accepted to marry you."

"I accepted. That was all that mattered."

"I should have talked my mother out of it."

"Did your mother have any other people in mind?"

"A few. They would pay more than what we offered you."

"And why did you choose me?"

"I guess it was because you lived out here and not in a city or someplace large like Edo."

"So you came out here for solace?"

"More so for my mother."

"You could have had anything you wanted, but settled to eat trash," Mizu said.

"It wasn't my fault that my mother insisted on me marrying you! Of all people, you! I could be in Edo right now," I said.

"And what? Married to the shogun's son? Basically being a baby factory for them?"

"It'll be better than living out here with nothing around other than a small village nearby to trade things for."

Mizu glared at me, "You chose this life. Not me."

He stalked off, heading inside the house. The door slammed and I winced slightly, letting out a sigh as I knew I had to face my mother once I entered the house. And face my mother I did. She went on to berate me, saying that is not how a wife should talk to her husband. She went into her room and I was left alone. I let out a sigh before getting dinner ready. Once it was, Mizu did not arrive to eat.

"Go find him," my mother said.

"Fine," I said and stood up, heading into our room.

Sliding the door open, Mizu was sitting in the corner.

"Dinner's ready if you want any," I said.

"Y/N, wait."

I stopped, not turning to face him.

"What?"

"Can you look at me?"

I turned and found his glasses were taken off. Slowly lifting his head, he opened them. My eyes widened slightly, finding the most beautiful shade of blue staring back at me.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I accept your apology. But why now? Why show me your eye color?"

"It's one way I know I can trust you. How you react is everything to me."

"Why?"

"I was ridiculed, bullied, and looked down upon for my eye color."

"What's so bad about having blue eyes?"

"First off, I have blue eyes in Japan. It's not normal."

"So your father was one of those white men?"

"Yes. How do you know about that?"

"My father was killed by one of those white men. He heard word that a white man was going to be heading to Edo to kill the shogun. He went to warn the shogun and he died there. He was face to face with that white man and he shot him down like he was nothing. That white man fought with no honor. But with pure intent of wanting all the power in the world."

"I-I was there."

"You were?"

"Yes," Mizu said. "I was there in Edo when that white man killed the shogun."

"Did you kill him?"

"N-No," Mizu turned away. "I-I went to London to find the other two. Once we got there, he ran. I knew nothing on London and decided to return back to Japan."

"So you were on a quest for revenge."

"I was. I never got to complete it."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

I nodded my head, "I see. And your eyes, they're very beautiful."

A small smile crawled on his face. That was the only time I have ever seen him smile since I was here.

"And I wouldn't be insecure about your eyes."

"What about your mother?"

"Around her, hide them. But around me, there is no need for you to hide who you are," I said, about to step out of the room. "I'll be beside you no matter what."

Within a few weeks, Mizu was starting to open up more. He was letting me help more around the small farm we had. Such as shearing the sheep, feeding the livestock, and he even took me into the woods to where this peach tree was. They were low enough to where Mizu could reach up with ease and grab one for me. We would spend hours there, just talking more and more about anything and everything. It made me smile to know that Mizu was warming up to the idea of married life.

"Y/N, we need to talk," Mizu said one night.

I was slicing carrots when he said that, almost making me cut my finger off. I had nicked the skin and Mizu rushed over, grabbing some bandages he kept nearby in case this happened.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah. I am. W-What did you want to talk about? I-Is it something that I did?"

"No, no, no," he shook his head, wrapping my finger up. "I-I've just been hiding something from you."

"It's only been half a year since we've been married. And now you're telling me this?"

"Yes. Because you deserve to know the truth."

"Truth? About what?"

"Your mother is not here, is she?"

"No. She went to the village to see if she can get anything for dinner tonight."

"Ok."

"Why?"

"I-It's better that I show you."

He reached up and removed his ponytail, letting his long hair fall down to around chest level. After that, he grabbed his haori and pulled it back, revealing a binding around his chest.

"I'm not a man."

"A woman," I said.

Mizu nodded, "Yes."

"And this changes how?"

She blinked a few times, "Y-You're taking this surprisingly well."

"I told you before, Mizu. There is no need for you to hide who you are around me."

Some tears formed in her eyes as she reached over, pulling me into a tight hug. Pushing her away, she looked confused at me.

"I-I am just shocked you hugged me."

"I-Is that ok? T-To hug you?"

I smiled, "Of course. Just warn me next time."

She chuckled, pulling me into a hug. I hugged her tightly, finally knowing the true Mizu.

"Thank you, Mizu."

"I didn't do anything."

"For showing me who you are."

She smiled, nuzzling the side of her face against mine.

"You're welcome."

My heart beat fast and hard against my chest. I wasn't liking the whole marrying someone I never met before idea, but with Mizu, I am glad my mother picked her from the other men.

"Oh shit!" I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.

"What? What's wrong?"

"My mother cannot know about this," I said.

"Shit! Right. W-What would she do?"

"For starters, probably have you killed. Either by her hands or by someone else's. But I think by now that you'd kill them before they even drew your blood."

"That's true."

"Or worse," I let out a heavy breath. "She'd make me leave you for another man."

"You say that like a bad thing."

"And you say that like you want it to happen," I said, a little offended.

"I-I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I-It would be a bad thing for you. But also for me."

"W-What are you saying?"

"I-I've come to enjoy your company. Mostly yours since I have not acquainted well with your mother, but you," she found my eyes, a look of awe in them. "You're someone I want to have in my life. Someone I should have had in my life."

"Why someone like me?"

"You accepted me no matter what. You didn't judge about my eyes and you didn't judge about me revealing the truth. If I would have been found out anywhere else and with anyone else, I'd be rejected. You welcomed me even though we started off rough. Y-You've shown me what unconditional love is. And I couldn't be more grateful for that," she smiled softly at me.

I reached over and grabbed her hand, "Man or woman, Mizu, it doesn't bother me. I will still love you for who you are."

"L-Love me?" some blush crawled onto her cheeks.

My eyes widened, recognizing what I just said. Some blush came onto my cheeks as well.

"S-Shit," I whispered.

She chuckled, her smile growing wider, "So is that a confident response?"

I let out a sigh and placed my hands on her cheeks, pulling her towards me. My lips met hers lightly and her arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into her. She pulled back after a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Mizu asked.

"Yes, Mizu. I love you."

"I-I love you, too."

#bes mizu #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai

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jeonscatalyst · 5 months ago

Note

Hey May do you think Jk acts different around Jimin when Tae is around? I've seen taekookers saying that you can always tell who the real couple is whenever Vminkook are together because Jk is always glued to Tae instead of Jimin and I also saw them talk about the fact that taekook mostly sat side by side on AYS.

Hey anon,

Yes I think Jk is different around Jimin when Tae is around. Jk and Jimin would obviously be different around each other when there is another person around. It could be Jin or Yoongi around them and they would still be different, them being different around each other has nothing to do with tae being there or not but just the fact that a third person will always change the dynamic of two. If we ever got a show with just tae and Jk their dynamic would be very different compared to when Jimin is around, that is completely normal.

The thing with taekookers is that they seem to have this belief that someone automatically becomes a jerk to their friends or is less nice to their friends when their lover is around and that is the narrative they have been trying to push. I saw this ridiculous thread on twitter a few days ago from a taekooker trying to show the difference in dynamics between taekook and Jikook when they are together and that post had over 4k likes even though it was filled with the most ridiculous things ever. Taekookers in my opinion are some of the most shallow, childish and inexperienced people ever because they lack the ability to look beyond the surface. As long as Jk or tae stare at each other, they see romance even if the next second they see Tae going away on his honeymoon, that wouldn’t matter because the honeymoon was set up by the company to cover up taekook’s real relationship. As long as Jk and Tae hold unto each other singing and dancing to a song at a concert they see romance even if moments later Jk is seen tongue kissing someone else, that person is a beard to cover taekook’s real and forbidden love. Taekookers would rather accuse every living thing on earth of trying to hide taekook than stopping to think that maybe they read things wrong.

I’ve seen them talk about seeing a difference between taekook and Jikook when vminkook are together, as a matter of fact that is something almost all the taekook blogs on tumblr believe in and talk about. They give examples like the HS concert in 2021, they talk about the Vminkook Vlive from 2021 and they have added AYS to the mix. Everytime I read the things they say and how they justify these points I am shocked at how shortsighted some people can be. I honestly don’t know if they really cannot see beyond the surface or if they just don’t want to look because they are afraid of what they might find or if they see but don’t want to accept it.

Let’s start with the HS concert. To them that was proof that taekook is real and Jikook isn’t because of the moment we saw of tae and Jk singing, holding hands and dancing to “falling”. There was that moment and another moment of taekook sharing drink or something and according to taekookers that was Jk and tae being glued the entire night nevermind the fact that we have footage of Jimin and Jungkook whispering to each other, sharing drinks, dancing together with Jimin’s hand over Jungkook, plus the fact that those two actually disappeared together for a while at the concert. Now, these examples of Jikook aren’t meant to prove that jikook is real either but just to show that Taekook weren’t glued all night as taekookers would like to believe but just because of those few moments they had of taekook’s interactions, they swore that the two were glued together all night and Jk didn’t even spare Jimin a glance. Now why do I say they are shortsighted? The Harry Styles concert happened on the 19th of November 2021 and then a little over a week later, we got the Vminkook Vlive (march 28th) and from this Vlive, we found out from Jimin that since they got to LA, he had been working out with Jungkook every single day, we also found out from Jimin that Jungkook was basically in his room almost all the time. Jimin said Jk visited his room about 3 times a day and that he saw Jungkook in his room way more than he saw the managers. Tae confirmed this story by telling us that he went to Jimin’s room one day and thought it was Jungkook’s because Jk was the one who answered Jimin’s door and greeted him. Mind you Jimin said Jungkook was in his room everyday and even came at night too when he was about to go to sleep, stayed there for 2-4 hours at a time and left. We also know that Jungkook was probably there every night because on the one night he didn’t go, Jimin asked why he didn’t come and he wouldn’t be asking this if Jk wasn’t a regular visitor to his room. Also, Tae thinking that Jimin’s room was Jk’s means that he didn’t even know Jk’s room. So which normal person thinks that taekook dancing together at a concert and you know, being friends proves they are dating when we know for a fact that at the same period, Tae didn’t know Jungkook’s hotel room, Jungkook was spending almost all his time in Jimin’s room and choosing to go to him repeatedly when he was lonely or bored? You see why I say taekookers are incredibly shortsighted? You don’t even have to think Jikooo are a couple but Jk clearly liked spending more private time with him that he did with Tae judging from the things they said. So how exactly could taekook be dating yet Jungkook prioritized being with Jimin over Tae? They focus on physical affection which in this case isn’t a sign of romance but of friendship, love and care and the they ignore facts because they facts shatter their fantasies. They watched the Vminkook Live and focused on 5 seconds of awkward eye contact and that to them was proof of the greatest romance but ignored everything that was said in that Live that completely debunked Taekook. Nevermind the fact that a few days after that Live, Tae attended Hobi’s live and mentioned that he had a meal with Jungkook and they had an adult conversation and Jk said he was happy. Anybody with a brain would understand that this is two people clearly catching up because it doesn’t seem like that is something they did often so after the concert Jk and Tae ate together, did some catching up and we saw Jk after he left Tae’s room still fully dressed with his combat boots on which means that he was just in tae’s room temporarily but when we saw tae a few moments later, he was already out of his concert clothes and had on more comfortable clothes you know, like he had already changed and settled in his bedroom unlike Jk who was clearly just passing by.

So let’s be serious anon, how exactly did the HS concert or the Vminkook Live show that taekook are the real couple when we know for a fact that Jk and Jimin were basically spending almost all of their time together while Tae didn’t know Jk’s hotel room? Before Tae started his Live wasn’t Jk busy eating chicken with Jimin while tae was eating alone? Tae had already showered by himself too while Jk and Jimin were talking about “we haven’t showered yet” lol. Taekookers never look beyond the surface and they don’t even realize that what they think is romance is just two people being friends and basically just dynamic.

They also think that AYS showed how real taekook is and when you ask them why, they tell you how Jk and Tae sat side by side or how Jk wanted Tae to get into the pool too or some other rubbish which proves that these people don’t have friends in real life. After watching Vminkook in AYS, I felt so validated about a post I made months ago describing Vminkook’s dynamic. Typical of taekookers to fail to look beyond the surface. Jk was seated next to Tae most of the time yet he spent the entire time interacting and talking with Jimin. How many times did taekook actually really talk to each other while seated side by side? Didn’t we all watch Jk and Jimin constantly interacting and talking while Tae’s head was buried in his phone the entire time? Let’s also talk about how taekookers claimed that “when Tae leaves the pool Jk leaves” forgetting that Jk chose to stay back with Jimin after they left the pool while Tae showered and went to bed. Jk did this on BOTH nights they were in Jeju btw. If he wanted to be stuck to Tae’s side like tkkrs claim, he would have gotten out of the pool, showered when tae was showering and gone to bed or atleast gone upstairs to be next to him while he was sleeping but that isn’t what he did. He got out of the pool, teased Jimin by locking the doors, knowing that he would have to stay back to open it for him while Tae went ahead to shower and go bed, he stayed back, played a little with Jimin, showered and they went to bed together on both nights so what exactly are taekookers talking about?

Anon, most taekookers, especially the ones here on tumblr swear they are body language experts and they can tell taekook is real because of how taekook’s bodies react to each other (lol) but ask them why Jk doesn’t seek tae out in moments of high emotions or why Jk didn’t immediately go to Tae’s room instead of Jimin’s and they pull out all the conspiracy theories under the sun. They say Jk always wanted to be by Tae’s side in AYS but ask them why Jk wasn’t rushing to his side at nights but choose to stay up playing with Jimin, showering at the same time as him and only going to bed together with him and see how fast they start contradicting themselves.

Anon, any unbiased person who watches AYS with Vminkook can very easily tell the difference between those three and no one would ever think there is anything going on between taekook. Taekookers harrassed and bullied so many unbiased reactors on youtube for seeing and mentioning how close they think Jikook are. You don’t need to be a shipper to see how clearly Jikook are different and how deeply they connect but I guess if you are someone who believes in how close people walk, or people’s sitting positions or people dancing together at concerts, then you might probably see what taekookers see. And this isn’t me saying that these things aren’t important, they are but the issue is you cannot depend only on your reading of people’s body language to prove a ship because first, body language cues could be subjective and could depend on so many things plus you cannot focus on your perception of things while ignoring all the hard facts. Jk and Tae stared at each other for 5 seconds, they are a couple/ there is attraction =Perception. Jk spends alot of time in Jimin’s room, so much that Tae once thought Jimin’s room was Jk’s, according to Jimin, Tae and Jungkook = Fact. While your perception could be wrong, facts can’t and if the fact isn’t wrong then your perception is wrong so that 5 second eye contact which you read as romance/ attraction, isn’t. If you thought taekook were a thing because you noticed that they look at each other in a certain way or they sit in a certain way, then you get to find out that in Jungkook’s free time, he mostly goes to spend time in another person’s room and also likes spending nights with this other person and basically spends almost all day with this person while Tae doesn’t even know his hotel room then doesn’t it make sense to just conclude that you must have read things wrong? But our neighbours would rather call Jimin and Tae liars before they sit to think that maybe, just maybe they read the cues all wrongs.

So anon, I do agree that when we see Vminkook together it is easy to see the difference between them and you can see it by watching them aswell as listening to the things they say. No reasonable person watches them, listens to the thing they say and comes out thinking “yea, taekook is the one” lol. That’s just ridiculous. When you actually watch them and listen to them, you actually get to understand just how complex human feelings and relationships are because so many people spend time arguing about who Jk is closer to when the truth is, he is close to Tae and Jimin in very different ways so you cannot even really compare but one thing that is clear and has always been clear is that of the two, his emotional bond with Jimin is deeper…unless someone wants to explain to me why in his moments of loneliness the one he thought of going to was Jimin even though he didnt do anything particularly interesting while he was in there with him… i’ll wait.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #taekook #jikook blog #my asks

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lobey-scribbles · 2 years ago

Text

Playing Dumb - Fred Weasley X F!Reader

summary: Fred Weasley has always had his eye on you and when Professor Flitwick sits you next to each other in Charms, he can hardly believe his luck. In a desperate attempt to get close to you, Fred decides to play dumb in Charms class.

word count: 1.1k

themes: just fluff

warnings: none

a/n: happy birthday to gred and feorge! might do a part 2!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Fred Weasley stumbled into Charms class, out of breath and dishevelled. It turns out that despite staying up all night with George and wandering the castle with the marauder's map being one of his favourite activities, it didn't exactly mesh well with being a punctual student. Professor Flitwick paused his lesson, and gave one of those Fred-Weasley weary sighs, “Late again, I see, Fred.” he said in his usual squeaky voice.

“Very sorry, Professor,” Fred replied, giving Professor Flitwick the most apologetic smile he could muster. Before Fred could make his way to his seat, he stopped dead in his tracks. Peering around the room, he realised that Lee Jordan was no longer sitting in his usual seat. Instead, he sat next to a Slytherin student, Miles Bletchley, and was giving no effort to hide how miserable he was about it. Had Fred not been so devastated about being moved away from Lee, he would have found his predicament rather hilarious, but now he needed to figure out where he was sitting.

“Oh, Fred, can you please go sit next to miss Y/N L/N please?” said Professor Flitwick, noting the bemusement on Fred’s face. “Maybe you'll finally get some work done,” he muttered to himself under his breath before he resumed his lesson.

Fred Weasley scanned the room for his empty seat, his stomach lurching ever so slightly when his eyes landed on you.

Fred sauntered over to the empty seat next to you, determinedly ignoring the way his heart began to race in his chest. He’d noticed you in the corridor before, but he'd never had the chance to speak to you. Now, he was sitting right next to you in class, and he was determined to make the most of it.

“Hey there,” Fred said, flashing you a grin. “I'm Fred. Nice to meet you.”

You looked up at him, gave him a small smile and introduced yourself, but you didn't seem very talkative.

He really couldn't explain it, but you being as shy and reserved as you were, only made Fred’s need to be closer to you even stronger.

Fred tried to strike up a conversation, cracking a few jokes here and there, and making light of Lee’s unfortunate new seat in class. “Well, Y/N, I hope you feel lucky to be sitting next to me now instead of poor Lee. He's stuck with Bletchley, you know.” he chuckled, desperately trying to get a laugh out of you. Instead, you just gave him a polite nod and turned your attention back to Professor Flitwick.

As the class progressed, Fred tried his best to focus on the lesson and keep his eyes firmly on the textbook in front of him, and Merlin’s beard, was it impossible! It seems like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but steal a glance at you, admiring your unwavering concentration and the way your fingers twirled your hair absentmindedly.

Finally, the class came to an end, and Fred and Lee met up with George and strolled to the Great Hall together for break time, plonking themselves down at the Gryffindor table. Fred’s mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, barely noticing Lee’s rant about his new seat, only half-heartedly piping up to express his sympathies, agreeing that it was such a shame to be separated from his best friend. George noticed his brother’s distracted state and nudged him, “What about your seat, Fredster?”

“Don’t call me Fredster!” he snapped, kicking George underneath the table, and then continuing as though he couldn't hear his brother yelp out in pain and a howl of laughter from Lee, his violent reaction being less to do with the stupid nickname and more to do with the fact that George had interrupted his daydreaming.

“Not too bad, I suppose,” appearing as nonchalant as he could about the whole thing, acting as if his stomach didn't perform backflips at the very thought of being beside you.

As the weeks went on, Fred persisted in trying to tempt you out of your shell. Fred wasn’t bad at charms by any means. In fact, he'd probably be great at if he put in the same amount of effort as he did with wreaking havoc amongst the castle. Yet, he took every opportunity he could to ask you questions in Charm class, acting as though he were struggling to get you to help him. You'd give him a look and scold him for not listening properly, turning to help him, and as you did so, your leg would brush his and a jolt of electricity would shoot through his entire body.

In the Charms class that followed, Professor Flitwick had the whole class on their feet, practising a bubble-head charm. Fred fumbled with his wand, making a complete pig’s ear of the movement, purposefully of course, and cried out in frustration, “What the bloody hell am I even doing wrong?”, his eyes darted quickly over to you to make sure you had heard him.

You rolled your eyes at him, walking over to his side, “Let me help you, Fred” and you placed your hand on top of his. If brushing your leg against his made Fred nervous, it was seriously nothing compared to how the touch of your hand on his made him feel. You directed his hand, mimicking the correct wand movement. “See, like this.”

“O-oh yes, I get it now, thank you.” he stammered, swiftly pulling his hand away from yours as if he'd just touched something scorching. He prayed that you didn't notice how hot and bothered he was and desperately tried to regain his composure.

As you were all packing up for the end of class, Fred asked Lee to wait up for him outside. Then, he turned to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck and asked, “I’m sure it's no secret to you by now how hopeless I am at Charms.”

“Oh, well you're not really-”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Y/N, I'm a mess.”

You giggled, making Fred’s heart soar, he might get addicted to hearing you laugh, especially when it's because of him.

“So, with that in mind, do you think you would mind tutoring me in Charms? I completely understand if you're busy-”

“Oh, no I'm not busy at all!” you interjected, eagerly, “Of course, I’ll tutor you, Fred!” you smiled at him kindly, “Does next week sound good?”

“Yes, that's brilliant, thank you!” unable to hide the elation in his voice, “You’re amazing, you are. I owe you my life, seriously, Professor Flitwick glares at me as if my days are numbered,” drawing out another one of your melodic laughs.

Fred bid you farewell and walked out of the classroom with an undeniable spring in his step, and a goofy smile plastered across his face.

Fred stepped out into the corridor, unable to shake the giddy feeling that lingered from his conversation with you. He spotted Lee leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

“Hey, Lee!” Fred greeted his friend enthusiastically as he walked towards him.

Lee raised an eyebrow, “Don’t know what you’re so cheery about, mate, we've got Snape next.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #harry potter fandom #wizarding world #fred weasley being an idiot #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasley twins #hp fandom #fred weasley #happy birthday to fred and george weasley #happy birthday fred and george weasley

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igglemouse · 3 months ago

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Lets start this day with some big news! Our little Flora is officially too big for her crib which means she's grown some! They do grow fast, don't they? It's almost hard to keep up!

Just look at her! My little princesa! She's wiggling and cooing and happy as can be and what else is there to say? I'm soaking in the moment with her and have little else to say. I just feel so lucky and fortunate and I know I keep saying this but all my love is for her right now!

I would have played with her a little more but I think all that growing wore her out, as it tends to do, so I would let her have her nap and whip up a pizza! Pizzas are easy to make thankfully and this one will just be a regular classic pepperoni as you can't go wrong with that. I think I do make a pretty good pizza pie! That's amore!

I think the scent of pizza brings Pascal to the kitchen but when he arrives he's looking a little sad. I admit, the frown on his face makes me forget for a moment that he's been oogling models in his spare time and I can't wait to offer my emotional support.

"What's wrong?" I ask, putting aside his wandering eyes for just a moment. I bet it has something to do with futbol, usually if he's sad that is why, but I can't ignore one significant difference about him. "You umm, forget to shave?"

"That's just it, my razor broke and I might have to go out like this," he looks so disheartened even as he rubs the new beard that now adorns his face.

"You look great! In fact, I'd say keep it!"

"Well, if you say so."

I can't help but chuckle at how dramatic he's being. "You look fine either way! Actually, I think it suits you! You're a daddy now and it matures you some."

"I guess it's not so bad..." he mumbles although the frown on his face doesn't budge. I remind him that there is fresh pizza in the kitchen so if that doesn't make him feel a little better than I don't know what will.

I've decided not to bring up the model oogling just yet. Eventually, yes, but right now I just don't feel it is the right time. I've thought a lot about it last night but I want to keep those thoughts to the side, not let them consume me. He's a man. I know, that's a poor excuse, but it is also the truth. It is also the truth that really I'm still very very very much into him and that right now is enough for me to set it aside and give him the benefit of the doubt.

Instead, my mind drifts to bigger things, longer term things, another baby kind of things and maybe, hopefully, a proposal. Yeah, the big M. I can't help but wonder when it will happen or...if it will happen.

I'll be honest, I probably would've spent the rest of the night overthinking about Pascal's liking history on Simstagram but the moment I see Flora's little face it grounds me completely. She's the result of our passion and love and I won't throw that away on a whim. Feeding her, holding her, playing with her reminds me of what truly matters.

Oh! She loves to hiccup! That makes her a hiccuper? It's the most adorable thing, it's a squeaky little sound and whenever she does it she almost looks confused as if she's asking 'did I do that?' and I have to remind her to have manners! A little lady doesn't go around hiccuping at others after all!

And I love her so much that I am taking her everywhere I go in my little carrier. Thankfully, she's a quiet one and she's pretty calm about being carried around. Only wriggling and cooing here and there and hopefully taking in what will hopefully be her home for many years to come.

Oh! Also, as I'm out and about, I notice that people are recognizing me? Nothing major, a few waves and hellos along with my name "Frida!" and I can't help but wonder is it from my food stand or me new growing SimTube channel? Either way, it does feel nice to be noticed! There's even a fellow food stand chef who offered me a free hotdog but I had to decline because Flora started to whine and flail, her way of wanting to go back home I think.

Oh, and Pascal did spend time with Flora after he came back from a game. I SWEAR she was giving him the side-eye. I might have ummm vented to her about the traveling eyes of men. Not that she could understand a word I've said but maybe, just maybe, she picked up on it in my tone...or it could be she's unsure of him because she really doesn't get to see him too much, he's always working, after all.

Meanwhile, in the poorer part of town, Sara and Simón were curled up together in his humble trailer. He had called her over saying that there was something important they needed to discuss but it didn't end up being much of a conversation. Instead, he simply asked for her loyalty and her love.

She wanted to, she wanted him to be the one, Watcher how she wanted to. He could be her escape, her distraction, her addiction, her everything, how she wanted every bit of that, but she knows oft times the heart doesn't get what it wants. The brain though, the brain can be a lot more realistic with its desires.

"I know what you are," she said suddenly, the realization blowing past her like a chill breeze. Her hands roamed his chest, the tips of her fingers searching for something, reassurance, maybe? The mystery of him perhaps, the missing puzzle piece that would make this thing between them work.

"I know you'd figure it out," his reply was quiet and his voice heavy. He wasn't shocked. He wouldn't deny it or talk her out of it. He couldn't run from his past like Frida because he had become his past and now as he looked at Sara he wondered if she could ever be part of his future. If she should. The danger he could put her through..."So, what do you think?"

"I don't want this to end," she decided, the words surprising even herself. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth the risk. Love is always worth the risk...

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.5

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #pascal alcocer #frida varela #simon barrera #sara chavez #florencia alcocer

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wxnheart · 2 years ago

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𝐅*𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: Because today was a wonderful day to wake the fuck up and tease the ever-living shit out of your babygurl(s). Make love sex not war, babes. ❤️

Captain John Price - So, uh... that was unexpected. Not really. Not when you spent the better part of the day absolutely testing his bloody patience, so it should come as no surprise that he called (more like summoned) you in for a... personal meeting. Officially, it's about your recent code of conduct. Unofficially, however... let's just say that it involved some intense orgasm denial (that you're still pissed about), the sad parting of ways with your favorite pair of underwear, and some nice hickeys on your inner thighs. You feign ignorance when others comment on Price's shiny beard and mussy hair.

Gaz - Oh sweet baby. You thought Gaz wasn't one to really lose his cool but he proved you wrong. Man's nostrils were flared and if you didn't know him, you'd swear he'd kill you with his glare. He had you cornered, arms on either side of your head, and leaned in and gave you the most passionate kiss of your life. Oh fuck. It would've gone on further if not for the poor bastard who happened to stumble in (and out when you two silently stared him down). Oh well. Gaz promises to finish what he started later that night. He does that and some.

Soap and Ghost - Sure you're good after this? Turns out Ghost and Soap have little patience for teases, especially ones that like to keep their dicks harder than fucking diamonds. You might have gone a bit too far because the next thing you know, Ghost has slung you over his shoulders and Soap is not far behind, a smirk on his face. Oh... oh. They proceed to put your mouth, your hands, your everything to good use, and Ghost, guttural growler and all, talks shit the entire time. Fucker. But oh god did it turn you on.

König - He's so adorable. He was so concerned about giving in and possibly scaring you but you had to assure him that you most definitely wanted him to give him. And he does. And you're wondering how a man so controlled and hesitant and... and—goddamn, don't stop, König, don't you DARE fucking stop—!

Alejandro - Gotta finish what you started. You never thought the man's mask would crack but it fucking did. All you remember is him muttering curses in Spanish and next thing you know, you're bent over and he's giving you those long, deep strokes. You're so fucked out, you don't even know what time it is and you can't stop trembling. But you sure as fuck are ignoring the smirk he throws your way.

Rudy - Rudy is... oblivious. Oblivious to the fact that he has that good good, that demonic dick. But the bastard is good. You tried him and he got your ass ALL THE WAY back. Had you in fucking tears begging him to fuck you. But he wouldn't. Had you right where he wanted you... with only the tip. Just the tip. Just. The. Fucking. Tip. Fuck you, Rudy.

Valeria - Oh, you fucked around and found out alright. You thought you wrote a check your ass couldn't cash. But your mouth certainly made up for it. And she made it her fucking throne. God, you loved it when she fucked your mouth.

Horangi - The bastard didn't fuck you, no matter how much you begged him to. What he did do, however, was run those large hands over your body, alternating between whispering sweet nothings in your ear and telling you every. damn. thing he was gonna do to you. He so loved a good game, and if you wanted to play the tease, he could play it too. And in this case, he'd play it better.

Phillip Graves - Have you ever been fucked while at the same time being soothingly degraded and told what a thirsty and needy whore you were? And your partner didn't raise their voice not even once? Because that's what Phillip did. Yep. And he'd do it again, too, if you keep fucking around with him. Yes, Phillip. Yes...

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puppypeter · 2 months ago

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Watching the new season of queer eye and of course had to think about the Fab 5 being called on someone in the Ted Lasso universe

imagine post-s.3, roy has just become manager but jamie is not there for the season because he has suddenly taken off to go join some other big team in spain

roy has been a big grumpy mopey sad dog, torturing the team with super intense workouts, growing out his hair/beard back to retirement-roy levels, doesn't really go out anymore so someone decides to call the fab 5 on him (keeley/rebecca/the team/his sister)

there's so many things they'd do like, first, obviously, absolutely freak out about how attractive he is and that he looks like a grumpy hairy soft teddy bear and they'd make him blush like hell

then there would be all the interactions they have with the people around him, like finding out how much he matters to the team and the club and his niece, and yet he doesn't seem to fully understand this like in the things he says it's all very much like about how he used to be something / this idea of youth and his glory days vs what he is now.

karamo would absolutely love the concept of the diamond dogs and man in sport trying to find a way to be open and vulnerable with each other

I also love the idea of things not lining up with who they assume him to be, like when they find out about the yoga mums and the drag queens and also all the love he'll get around his sexuality once it's kinda revealed he might have a thing for a boy... like he's always known and not cared about it, but the football world has not let him feel like he can express himself on it as much as well as when it comes to masculinity and his preconceived ideas because maybe he does want to wear something different but what if people think things because of it...

so for the angst - there would be a lot of roy being stuck in the past, both his fame, his grandad and jamie. They would go over to his house and he'd already be very uncomfortable having so many people around

jeremiah would frown at seeing the dusty room with the trophies and the frames on the floor turned towards the wall, he would tear up at the pictures of baby roy with his grandad but lack of pictures with his parents

tan would be staring at a mostly black wardrobe (yet pleasantly surprised at this "supposedly straight" man knowing about dark heather charcoal and different variations of black) and curious about the funky socks. He also comes across a baby blue hoodie (or a ugly colourful pattern t-shirt in the wrong size) that roy growls at the mention of getting rid of it... which makes him wonder if it really belongs to roy....

jvn would walk him to the bathroom to find out about his routine, eyebrows raised when roy has a few really nice products that are suitable for his skin type and all and he wonders about roy's pout when he asks about all these lovely products on his sink and roy says they're not his and walks out the door :(

antoni would find some old notebook of recipes of roy's grandad and they would probably cry in the kitchen to each other about cold-hearted parents

anyway they all talk to the diamond dogs, keeley, rebecca, ruth and phoebe and the team to understand more about roy and what happened, and it all comes back to jamie who they clock to be the "ghost" around roy's house (the hoodie, the beauty products, the lack of interest in cooking...) but nobody seems to know what happened, besides them all saying jamie departure was very sudden

(would be so fucking funny if phoebe was the one snitching)

so they fly over to spain to talk to jamie and it comes out that when they went to the bar (the "bar scene") jamie thought roy had asked him on a date and it absolutely broke his heart when he brought keeley up and he decided he couldn't handle spending so much time with roy anymore, 4am workouts, movie night half cuddled on the couch etc when it didn't mean the same to roy as it did to him. Bonus points if the fab 5 go to jamie's apartment and see that he's not unpacked anything because it doesn't feel like home :( They are also all in love with him cause he's such a sweetheart and he looks cute when he pouts and tears up

It ends with jamie flying over and there's lots of tension and roy admitting he fucked it up and let his fear get in the way because of having such a big "feeling" for jamie and then they kiss and get together and the post-show bit the fab 5 watch from the couch is just a royjamie date

(also something something about roy being surrounded by queer man closer to his age!!!! who might be able to understand his experience a bit more than these gen z folks)

#royjamie

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