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hawkinsbnbg · 8 months ago

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Steve had long accepted that Carol always came up with the best or the worst idea. There was no in between. But this time, he might have to thank her for telling him about Eddie Munson's talented mouth.

ao3

One night, when they were drunk and feeling funny, Carol had dared Steve to walk up to The Freak and demand the alpha eat him out.

“What’s the reward?” Steve had squinted at her.

“A mind-blowing orgasm,” Carol had wiggled her brows. “I heard Munson is really good with his mouth.”

Steve had snorted and that was the end of the topic.

He knew Carol hadn't meant it and had probably forgotten about the whole thing came the morning.

But every time he ran into Eddie at the school, his eyes would always linger a bit too long on those plump lips.

Carol’s words kept circling in his head like a broken record.

Munson is really good with his mouth.

Steve should’ve known better than to give in to his curiosity (and desire), but by the time he stood in Eddie’s bedroom, blushing and trying to not fumble around like an idiot, it had been too late to back out.

He had suggested the school’s bathroom stall at first, but the alpha just shook his head with a lopsided smile, “Princesses like you deserve to be taken to a bed.”

It was supposed to be mocking, but the way Eddie scrambled up to follow after him like a dog with a bone told Steve everything he needed to know.

So now, with Eddie’s head burying between his legs and hot tongue lapping at his cunt, Steve decided that Carol was right for once.

That mouth was really talented.

Steve had his fingers tangled in the mass of dark curls, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back as Eddie pinned him down and drank all of his slick from the very source.

“Eddie,” he mewled, seeing stars when the alpha licked at his sweet spot.

And then, his stomach tightened, the pulsating heat coursed through him and before he knew it, the blinding pleasure crashed over him like a bull.

It was his most intense orgasm and he was still shaking when Eddie pulled away, eyes dark and heavy with want.

“Again?” The alpha asked, hand stroking his hipbone slowly, temptingly.

Steve should’ve turned down the offer, told Eddie it was just a one-time thing, put on his briefs and slacks and gone on his way.

But Steve did none of that. He just nodded and spread his legs wider, “Please.”

It was all Eddie needed to kiss him on the forehead, “So polite. Such a good boy, aren't you?”

Steve let out a chirp but before he could feel embarrassed about it, Eddie kissed him again. This time, it was on his lips.

“Gonna treat you right, sweetheart.”

And Steve was helplessly charmed.

In hindsight, he should’ve seen it coming a mile away with how eager Eddie had been at his audacious request.

Because after three orgasms being wrung out of him, Eddie just kept going, sucking and licking and fucking Steve’s sensitive pussy with his tongue.

He didn't stop until Steve screamed his name and squirted all over his face, cross-eyed and delirious from the overstimulation.

Steve had been too out of it to register whatever the alpha tried to tell him afterward. When he regained his senses again, he found himself all cleaned up with his briefs on and tucked under a soft quilt that smelled of citrus and cigarettes.

It felt like coming home but Steve didn't want to get ahead of himself so he ignored the joyful purr from his inner omega and let his eyes wander, searching for a certain alpha instead.

As soon as he wondered where the hell Eddie was, the door opened and let the alpha in. He smiled teasingly when he caught Steve staring.

“Back to earth, Harrington?”

Steve frowned. He wanted to be ‘sweetheart’ again. But he just pushed through his sudden discomfort and sat up.

“Yeah, I gotta go,” he didn't bother meeting Eddie’s eyes as he tried to stand up on his wobbly legs.

And yet, he was taken off guard when Eddie was by his side within seconds and gently pushed him back down.

“Wha–”

The kiss was a surprise, but Steve wasn't picky so he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and let out those happy trills and chirps.

Was he too easy to please? Perhaps.

Then again, Steve wasn't one to turn down his chance and if Eddie decided to give him what he wanted, he didn't see why he shouldn’t take it and run as far away as possible.

“God, you’re so sweet,” Eddie groaned once they parted. “Never taste anything as sweet as you.”

“Liar,” Steve pouted with a haughty sniff.

“I’m not,” Eddie pecked the corner of his lips repeatedly, as if couldn't have enough of him, as if to stave off the endless hunger. “Been crazy about you for years, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Steve arched his eyebrow and bit his lips to contain his stupid smile.

“Really really,” Eddie seemed to give up the charade and kissed him square on the lips again. “Just say the word and I’ll give you everything, baby boy.”

“Then fuck me,” Steve murmured against those plump lips. “And if you’re good, I might ride your knot later.”

Steve knew he had gotten Eddie right where he wanted when the alpha growled and flipped him over.

The next day, he walked to his locker with a limp and Carol just shot him an impressed look.

Honestly, Steve also felt pretty proud of himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #pining eddie munson #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘love at first orgasm’ harrington #eddie ‘silver tongue’ munson #sionewritesatmidnight

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kyber-crystal · 8 months ago

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red thread || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.

words: ~2.3k

warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)

a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm

It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep.

It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes.

“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”

“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”

“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”

“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”

“We’re making history day by day.”

“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”

“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”

“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”

“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”

“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good.”

“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”

“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”

“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”

“What about the second one?”

“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”

You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”

“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”

“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”

The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms.

TWO YEARS LATER

As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything.

“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”

“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours’ and Hangman’s birthday.”

“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”

“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”

“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”

“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it.

You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you.

“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you.

Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself.

“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him.

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”

“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”

“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”

If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”

“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?”

“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...

“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”

You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”

“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”

If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal.

“...Thanks.”

“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”

“Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.”

You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”

Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth.

Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining.

Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot.

You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door.

You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”

“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness.

“Did you steal it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s his, isn’t it.”

“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”

“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”

“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.

The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road.

“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”

“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.

You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit.

“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”

“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”

Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”

“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”

“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”

“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”

Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”

The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.

tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell

#top gun #top gun: maverick #glen powell #top gun fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #hangman seresin #hangman fic #top gun fanfic #hangman x you #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin x you #illustration

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elliehase-blog · 2 months ago

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We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanart #sanders sides fanfic #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #humor & fluff

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starhvney · 29 days ago

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Hiii, can you write an laurnace x reader about garroth little sister/ Zanes twin who he is dating and the reader is the smart one of the family and because all the ro’Meaves children have there roles she feel like she has to stick to hers or the world with crash/ disappoint her father and she gets a bad grade so Laur comforts her. Please and thank youuuuu

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌: 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh laurance x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: sometimes the greatest cause of anxiety is something you've built up in your head. luckily, your older brother's best friend happens to care enough to remind you that grades aren't everything.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, comfort, garte is not so great at parenting

𝐂𝐖: anxiety and general self-doubt

𝐀/𝐍: as someone who also craves academic validation, this is so real to request. writing this was therapeutic tbh. also hiii sillyteenagegirl ily i hope you're doing good and that you like this :3

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you have to be perfect.

you have to.

this is something you’ve told yourself since you received your first report card as a young child. in one of those rare occurrences where you were graced with your father’s presence, and after your older brother had gotten enough praises and approving smiles–finally, finally, he turned to you. you remember the look on his face when your tiny hands lifted up your hard work for him to see, and that same proud glint he had in his eyes when he gazed at garroth was directed at you.

somehow, that clicked something in your brain when you were barely half the height you were now. you had to be the smart one. not just the smart one. because your brothers were smart. very rarely did one of them end a semester with a c.

no, you had to be the smartest.

gifted and talented. honor society. a solid 4.0 gpa.

sometimes, you didn’t even have to try to make good grades. you were just smart. it became who you were. who you are. it’s what you’re worth. every time you missed a point on even something small it would chip away at the perfectly polished podium you’d set yourself on. every time you got a good grade the podium grew, leaving you teetering on the top with no escape.

so why?

how is this possible?

you blink, swallowing thickly as you close your eyes. no, it must’ve read ninety-seven… not seventy. it’s too early in the morning and your vision must have blurred.

when you open your eyes, you can feel the blood drain from your face when the numbers seven and zero glare up at you in that damning red ink.

seventy. seventy?!

that was practically a failing grade!

this isn’t right. this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

garroth is the one who is good at sports. vylad is artistic. zane is smart. but you’re supposed to be the smartest.

you flex your hand next to the paper, swallowing the lump in your throat. the all-nighters you pulled, the dates you skipped, the tears you shed, and this is all you got from it? all of that was for this? the podium under your feet shifts, and you suddenly feel like you’re about to fall.

you think you hear some collective complaints around the room. maybe you even catch a few curious looks in your direction to see what the “smart kid” got. all of it merely was like fuzz beyond your desk as you froze in place. not even the gentle rustling of your hair from the familiar boy behind you could get you to move.

when the bell rings ten minutes later, you can’t move your legs any faster as you shoot up from your desk, beelining straight out the door and right for the back exit. a few strange looks were thrown your way, but it was all so unimportant at the moment.

cold, biting air hits your face as you step out the doors, and it's then that you realize you’ve begun to cry. your tears feel uncomfortably cold against the wind, prickling against your cheeks. you only make it halfway down the steps towards the bleachers before you sit down, burying your face into your knees.

if zane were here right now you’re not sure if he’d scoff at how sensitive you were being or relate. but he’s not in that class, and he’s not here right now. even if he was, he hadn’t been the most optimistic these past few years. you doubt he could do anything to keep the podium from tipping over.

…your stomach hurts. why do you feel like you’re falling?

the school doors squeak as someone runs outside, joining your lonesome pity party in the lovely december air. they seem in a big rush as the footsteps quickly approach the top of the steps, before halting to a stop. a few seconds and a quiet sigh are all you need to know who it is, so despite your embarrassment, you don’t flinch when someone sits directly next to you.

laurance’s leg presses against the side of yours, his familiar cologne giving a small sense of comfort.

“hey, pretty girl.” his voice softly coos, a hand coming up to wrap around your shoulder. “you are aware that it’s freezing outside, right?”

silence suspends over the two of you for a few seconds. your heart drops when he suddenly removes his arm, but before any outlandish thoughts can enter your brain the thick material of his blazer weighs down on your back, giving you extra shelter from the next gust of cold wind.

your head shoots up as you finally look over at him, frowning when you see his torso only shielded by his uniform shirt.

“no, laurance. you’re gonna get a cold.”

“you will, too,” he states with a sense of finality in his tone. “so obviously i can’t let that happen.”

any thoughts to argue fizzle out when laurance’s eyes drift over your face, his eyebrows knitting tightly together when he sees just how distraught you are. his hand comes up to your cheek, sweeping away the tears from your face as if they’d personally attacked him.

“why is my sweet girlfriend crying out in the cold, hm?” he hums in concern, his eyes drifting down to the crumpled page still lodged between your fingers.

his shoulders drop a hair and he sighs, gently reaching to pull away your fingers from the test and get a look at it himself. plump lips gape open, a proud huff visible in the crisp air.

“…wow. you actually passed-“

“-i did awful.”

laurance blinks at your interruption, before completely crumpling up the paper and tossing it down the bottom of the steps. “who cares?”

you gawk. “i do! my family-“

“your family’s opinion shouldn’t matter enough that you break down at a singular grade. you’re a smart girl.” he leans forward on his elbows, catching your line of sight as he leans closer. “so why do you care so much about this one thing?”

“because that’s who i’m supposed to be.” you blurt. “i’m supposed to make perfect grades and be smart. that’s what i have to do.”

“the only thing you’re supposed to be is yourself,” he scoffs, hands wrapping around your clenched ones. “you do know it’s literally impossible to be perfect right?”

“you are.”

“my grades are much lower than yours, and i’m a much less wealthy boy who was just barely lucky enough to have a good experience out of the foster care system. that doesn’t seem too perfect to me.”

“wh- why would you say…? that’s not-“

“you love me anyways, don’t you? you’d say how amazing i am despite those things? that all of that has nothing to do with what kind of person i am or if i’m likable or not?”

“of course!”

he raises his eyebrows, tilts his head, and fixes a direct look at you. you get his point, but the sting of failure still pricks at your eyes and squeezes your lungs.

“it’s just… i studied so hard, and i still did horrible.”

“oh my. if a seventy is bad for you, you’d pass out from my freshman year report cards.” he scoffs jokingly, before his expression grows to something a little more serious, his voice softening. “you did study hard. i know you did because i was there when you were ripping your hair out by your desk instead of paying attention to me.”

he taps your leg, a quiet call for you to look at him fully. he’s staring up at you through his lashes, a small crease of concern still formed between his eyebrows.

“i know it’s disappointing, love. but compared to the rest of the class, you technically aced that. literally everyone else in there flunked. i mean, i made a forty. i’m not as smart as you but i make a’s… most of the time.” you give him a half smile, and his eyes twinkle as he scoots closer. “but you know what? i’m not worried because i can make it up with our other twenty-billion freaking assignments in that class and still make an a. the teach said he’d probably curve or drop the grade anyways.”

he always knew what to say. but what else are you if not the path you’ve paved for yourself?

“i don’t want to be a disappointment. i don’t want dad to think less of me. or mom, or-”

he fully gawks at your words, before furiously shaking his head like you’d just told him the sky was green.

“woah, woah, woah. what are you saying right now? being smart doesn’t make you lovable or not. who told you that??” he demands, squeezing your hands just a small amount tighter.

“no one… i just… it’s the only way he pays attention to me.” you whisper.

there’s no need for elaboration. laurance shuts his eyes as a wave of annoyance flashes across his features, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“no offense to you, my love, but if garte stops loving you because you made a seventy on one test then he can go to hell-”

“laurance!”

he erupts into giggles, dodging the scolding slap you directed at his arm.

“okay, okay!” he grabs ahold of your hands. you frown at the realization that he’s shivering. “my point is that if your dad really only values you on how well you do in school or if you’re the captain of the baseball team or not, then he’s not someone you should be seeking validation from. that’s the truth. it doesn’t matter if he’s blood-related or not.”

your eyes fall, and he starts to gently rub his thumb across the back of your knuckles.

“you know, i have a pretty great dad who really loves you a lot, actually. not even considering your grades,” he murmurs, the next words leaving his mouth in a quick rush. “...and he can be your father-in-law in the future so you won’t have to worry about any of this pressuring crap garte has put on you and your siblings.”

your eyebrows rise, the blood that had left your face back in the classroom rushing back to your cheeks all at once. “laurance…”

his lips quirk into a smug grin. “just saying.”

“i love you.”

his eyes light up as his grin turns into a full-blown smile. his lithe fingers reach up to pinch your cheek, forcing your head to bobble in place before he leaves a soft kiss against your forehead.

“i love you more. and i would really love it if my girlfriend wasn’t crying out in the cold and making her poor cute face all numb.” he sighs forlornly.

“but you’re colder. because of m-”

“don’t even.” his eyes narrow before his expression shifts again as he bites his lips and bats his eyelashes. suddenly he puffs out his chest, leaning into you dramatically. “i’m perfectly warm with my beautiful girlfriend right next to me. your presence could melt the harshest of snowstorms! oh, my light! my love!”

“stop!” you giggle, cutting off his romantic monologuing.

he smiles, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“i don’t think i can, but i’ll spare you for now,” he presses his cold nose against your cheek, voice ever so soft. “do you want to have dinner and watch a movie at my house?”

you nod, a smile forming on your previously wobbling lips.

“okay, love. it’s a good thing that was our last class, huh? i think my girl needs some well-deserved rest.”

☆

“...did you really make a forty?”

“shhh. not another word.”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

#aphmau #aphmau mystreet #aphblr #x reader #aphmau laurance #laurance x reader #laurance zvhal x reader #laurance zvahl #pdh laurance #aphmau pdh #aphmau phoenix drop high

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deonsx · 1 year ago

Text

If They Argue With You

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo

Not: You are the right side in the discussions here, but he understands this later and is trying to win your heart

Dazai Osamu

You had an argument a day ago and when she suddenly shouted at you, you stopped defending yourself and went to your room, slamming the door, and that night she went out too and didn't come back

You couldn't sleep at night, despite that fight, you thought about where he went at night and why didn't he come back, "could it be?" No, you quickly wiped that stupid thought from your head and went into the living room

The worry inside you grew every hour he didn't come. You were angry with him, but you couldn't stop worrying, where? You suspect that something has happened to because you know your lover, all your worries disappeared with the sound of the key on the door and you continued to watch your movie

Footsteps approached you and sat next to you. silence.. it was so reactionary you got up to prepare breakfast and went to the kitchen pulled back with a grip on your waist he pulled you towards him with his hands and rested his head on your neck "sorry about last night Bella"

his voice was muffled. you wanted to ask him "where were you osamu" did he go to someone else? you doubted your relationship "I slept in agency"

You got the answer that you were unresponsive, but you wouldn't forgive him that easily, you promised each other before your relationship started that you would be respectful and not shout. "Bella please" there was silence "let me cook dinner sit at the table"

This went on all day, giving you hugs and kisse. but you no reaction. if you give him what he wants so simply he will always do it. when you go to sleep he quickly comes to the bed and snuggles next to you he grabs your waist and buried his head in his neck "forgive me I promise I won't do it again"

"my heart is empty without you" the kisses continued you looked at him you ran your hand through his brown locks you tilted, his head towards your hand and he grunted

"Please don't do it again osamu"

"Never.. I promise it won't happen" he kissed your eyes and hugged you tight"

Chuuya Nakahara

You had a fight with your lover and he quickly threw the glass against the wall with his talent, you couldn't believe that he treated you like that and stopped talking. You let silence fill the room. you continued to eat your food in silence but obviously chuuya quickly realized what you were doing

"My love, I'm sorry I didn't mean to do it like that"

he kept staring at you but you remained unresponsive he constantly defended his own boss in the argument and refused to believe you now he's apologizing? he chose to trust her instead of trusting you made him think you were not worth it

"My love, it's just this-" "You don't trust me?" The silence repeated, "You don't trust me! Then what's our relationship worth?"

"you don't understand" you got up from the table and went to bed he didn't come to you during the night he probably slept in the living room

When you woke up, you smelled the smell of food, you walked slowly into the living room with your hair messy and saw your boyfriend with messy orange hair. With his hair tied up like a ponytail, your boyfriend cook all the meals one by one. he is a really good cook

when he saw you she smiled quickly "good morning my love" you wanted to ask his "you at home? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" he gave a warm sigh and took off his kitchen apron and sat down at the table "I quit" your eyes opened “you quit?"

“I left because I didn't want to fight with you again, youre right”

I wanted to cook our dinner this morning so you can forgive me so you can give me an idea of my cooking? he grinned and spoke. you chuckled "let's see how many points you cook"

Ranpo Edogawa

You had a fight with him because you felt that he didn't pay enough attention to you and he was too fond of his job, sometimes he wouldn't even come home at night, and you were waiting for him at home at night. This has been about 1 month, he hasn't written anything about whether he will come to you like this or not

Even if you called him, he didn't pick up, of course you didn't think he was with someone else. but when you asked him why you didn't pick up the phone he said "I'll get stupid if I look at the phone too much" this indifference was driving you crazy but you didn't say anything

You waited for it to end for 1 month, but it didn't,he was always in the place called "agency", he came morning and night, but he went back 3-4 hours before you wake up and he is chaotic these days

you couldn't stand it and one night you decided to go to the agency, put on a nice formal outfit and got in your car and drove by opening the location. In the end, he was where he was every night for a month, he didn't introduce you to anyone, you just knew where he worked

You entered the apartment and climbed up the steps until you saw the door. you knocked on the door but no one opened it, you hesitated about whether to go in, what were you thinking when you came anyway, your mind was full but everything was disappearing.you finally got rid of the thoughts and you opened the door everything was dark but on the right there was a yellow light leaking from the slightly open door

you took your steps towards the light and when you looked through the doorway you saw a woman with ranpo a purple haired woman whose clothes looked like a doctor they looked like they were talking to her about something important but a thousand thoughts came to your mind but you thought you should be respectful and you knocked on the door all eyes turned to you "s/o?"

"Sorry, I was worried about you and I came..." he interrupted, "I always tell you not to do something stupid like that."you ran out of the apartment

the rain got you wet by the time you reached your car your hair was already wet you got in the car and started the car you paused with your boyfriend banging on the window his voice was muffled by the rain "s/o open the door, let's talk a bit" you thought about whether or not to open the window "tell me here" your eyes were full of tears "s/o. .please open the door, let's talk, I don't want argue”

the rain water was quenching him quickly "1 month ranpo.. you haven't given me any explanation for 1 month and when I come to work I see you with a girl friend but you shout at me instead of explaining"

"My colleague Yosana sure doesn't mind such things I told him about you and he knows you please open the door"

"You don't seem to care about me or you feel that way I can't take it anymore Ranpo" "We've been on a job for a month, you're right, I should have explained" the rain started to stop

"Please let's talk about this when you get home. be kind to me" you got quiet, unlocked the door and ranpo sat next to you, talking at length as you made your way home

Request Are Open

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theidiotwhowrites · 8 months ago

Text

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑨𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒕

𝐵𝑦𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑦𝑎 𝑇𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑖 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Equals

(Story is related to this post I made, lol Togami won by a landslide)

Warning;

Rude comments, Classism, Pre Despair Arc, Reader comes from a financially unstable household (broke), Rivals to lovers (slow burn?), Reader with a fencing background, Slow start, Arguing, Multipart. Kinda petty Reader (Aren't we all tho?)

You have been warned

--------------------------------------------------

Hope's Peak Academy

was the most prestigious private institution where anyone could go to, fortunately, you were accepted but for you, it was a bittersweet moment.

Everyone praised you all you could think about was leaving your life behind.

Fencing is what you had that didn't let you down and now it would have been thrown aside.

You finally felt like you did something, made your family proud but it didn't feel right.

All those days you've practiced for your upcoming tournament felt like a waste.

Sleep, School, Fencing, Rinse and Repeat It was routine, the thought of breaking from it didn't sit right with you.

It wouldn't for anybody, yet. You were supposed to be grateful and not "whine" about it but how could you when what you held dear was getting stripped away you weren't an Ultimate with a mind-blowing talent; Ultimates are what the school called their most gifted and breathtaking students,

(Your fencing skills weren't all that)

Unlike them it didn't change lives, it didn't inspire hope and technically you also weren't a 'Proper Reserve Course' student by definition, being that you didn't pay your way in.

Maybe the school's leaderboard took pity on you and accepted you only because of your academics.

Maybe they have an ulterior motive.

Nobody Knows.

Standing in front of the tall building, blue pillars from behind peak out catching the corner of your eyes.

You walk through the gates but that was 2 months ago...

Now you lie awake in your dorm, boring and plain are the decorations. The only spark it has is what you added which wasn't much since you weren't able to.

The days passing by started turning into mirrored images of the last.

It is better than wondering about what you were going to eat today or if there's any water or something added to the unpredictable chaos of poverty.

You weren't your class's top student.

(mostly given that the ones that were bribed the teachers into giving them better marks)

Or had close friends of any kind from the school.

You simply laid low. Invisible.

Staying in the background, with the spotlight never gracing your face for no longer than a second...

...Till...

The speakers called your name. Echoing throughout the empty halls. The stares from the others you didn't see, you felt, buried in the back of your skull.

All eyes were focused on you while you packed your things and said your temporary goodbyes.

Sprinting, you rush towards the headmaster's office. Slowly knocking on the door, opening it with shaky hands.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble" Says the headmaster; Jin Krigri, next to his right sits another man one that's quite unfamiliar,

"Before your arrival, the school did a background check on you as we do with all our students."

He shifts his chair

"And I was informed that you had done extracurricular activities. So to make you feel more welcomed, I took it upon myself to give you that chance again".

Endorphins filled with excitement lace through your veins. This was your redemption, a second chance. The thought of it makes you wanna shout for joy. You felt like you were overflowing with bliss and swimming in happiness.

If you signed up, another competition would be in your grasp. To be able to do what was taken from you. Being awarded, adored, standing in front of a stage whilst the crowd cheers for you, holding a medal you earned.

It's almost too much to bear.

Almost.

"Why?" You question. It didnt make sense, there has to have some repercussions. Opportunities like these don't come without them. There is something that lurk beneath such a pretty offer.

A faint smile crosses the stranger's lips as Mr Kirigri speaks up again.

"I did expect that you are a smart student after all. In return, all I ask is if you continue your fencing journey with a new coach..." He gestures to his right.

"Coach Tsukuda" The man interjects, standing up from his chair before calmly walking over, and putting one of his hands in front of him.

Hesitantly, you shake it.

Mr Tsukuda's, hands are rough to the touch, lacking any moisture with it. Bumpy like an unrepaired road, It's an unpleasant feeling against your own but you don't feel the need to decline.

To not be impolite, of course.

"It's is a pleasure to meet you," He remarked.

"Ahem" Mr Krigri clears his throat, drawing attention back to him.

"As I was saying, if you choose to make the conscious choice to accept this proposal by joining our fencing club, all I ask in return is if you compete in a tournament overseas with your fellow members, you as well as them to talk about the school in a positive light. Too nudge our reputation in the right direction."

He puts heavy emphasis on the word right.

In other words, Mr Krigri wants you to make the school look good. It was nothing short of unsurprising. Playing only a pawn in the time-consuming game of social climbing.

You agreed to such conditions. Being the school's talking puppet for a moment in time is better than the constant agony of boredom and longing for excitement. Some may disagree but it is a price willing to be paid.

The next day painfully went by.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Minutes turned into hours and at this rate, you felt like you were going to rip your hair out by the roots as the hands of time perceived to move slower and slower and even slower.

The bell rings, ending your torment.

Lazily, you turn the metal handle mounted on the wooden door, walking inside.

Yanking the strap of the duffle bag, destined to be forgotten before today, pulling it over your shoulder, leaving from whence you came.

Hope's peak was undoubtedly beautiful. A perfect muse for photography. However its only flaw are the stairs, You trance your index finger over the matte black railing. It is such a tedious experience but how else were you going to get there?

After what feels like forever, you stand before the Gymnatorium.

The temporary room for the fencing club. It calls your name like a siren song.

Spacious

It's the first thing you notice, the room is elegant yet simplistic. Gym equipment is neatly placed in the corners of the room.

Everyone talked in their own flock, mingling with their friends. Selectivity amongst others. Everyone except one.

Silently reading on a bench with a scowl on his face. Blonde hair falls to his face as a white-gloved hand fixes his hair. For a second they look up, his eyes connecting with yours.

The door behind you creaked behind you, ripping you from your thoughts. Making you look at the source of the sound

Coach Tsukuda stands in front of the door, he signals you to come closer. A sense of unease washes over you.

"You're here," He says, his voice lacking surprise, simply pointing out facts. He pauses to think of his next words.

"How good would you say you were at fencing before now?" Odd.

You shrugged. Doubt clouds your next judgment.

You thought you were good but are you?. Are you actually or were the people you were surrounded with weren't any better? Questioning your abilities.

"I don't know, good I guess" Was your response. Being humble about your talents. Maybe they were good but I didn't earn you a title. You still weren't an ultimate.

"Why do you ask?" You added. Not really sure where he was going with this.

"I've been thinking. That's our best fencer-" Coach points at the blonde on the bench, who continues to read. Not noticing that he is the object of your conversation.

"He thinks he lacks any competition and truth be told he's not wrong and you haven't showcased your skills to me, go and put on your gear, I'll be back to you in a second"

You oblige. Putting on your gear you notice, it's tight.

You are still able to move somewhat comfortably but it feels strange. Perhaps it's from the length of time you haven't worn it or you just need a new one. You toss your uniform in your bag.

Out of the changing rooms. You see Mr Tsukuda who stands next to the boy on the bench, signalling you to come towards them. Well, he's off of the bench now so you can't call him that anymore. You should ask what his name is.

Standing on the safety mat, it's a peculiar feeling under your shoes.

Mr Tsukuda's gestures to you

"This is who you will be fighting against, nothing drastic, best of five hits. "

The coach steps to the side and steps forward, to the boy.

He looks you up and down. Sapphire eyes studying your body. Judging every inch of you.

The tension is thick. To distract from it, you try to introduce yourself.

"Uhhh, Hi my name is-" Try, he cuts you off.

"I know who you are, I have not the energy to entertain this discussion you plan on conjuring with me, commoner. Let's get this over with. You will lose either way."

His tongue is razor sharp, cutting into you, deep. Dripping with disdain.

What is his problem? Did he wake up on the wrong side of life or something? He had not only rejected your advances but as well as insulted you in the same breath.

Tough Crowd.

So sure that he's better. It doesn't matter to you who does but now you want to, to win, simply push it in his face. To mess with his sense of arrogance.

You scuff at his remark. Glaring at his monotone expression.

He grabs what seems random to be a random épeé however it has an interesting design, one you haven't seen before.

Like any sport fencing has rules, mostly with its equipment. Every fencing sword has its own set of rules. Foil, only being able to touch your competitor's torso. Saber, allowing you to hit your opponent's waist up, only. However, the Éppé is the easiest to remember, having free range.

Grabbing your éppé, you get in a stance. He makes one last swift movement as he puts on his mask.

"Start!" The words echo through your ears. With a quick pace, he lunges towards you. You raise your blade. Swords clashing together, stepping back. Maintaining momentum, dodging his attacks. The tip of the blade touches your chest. "I suggest you give up, to prevent the shame of your inevitable loss."

"Shut up...." You mutter under your breath, he seems to be getting to you. "En garde!"

The contrast of your outfits becomes more clear. A dry taste fills your mouth. Adrenaline rushes through your brain. Under your gloves, sweat drips from your palms. Your next moves are calculated. You swung, A slash against his waist stops him in his tracks. Gaining you a point.

"Wanna give up?" You taunted, mocking his previous statement.

You can hear his teeth clench under his mask as he makes his next attack. You move your blade. Determined. Both blades swing left to right.

Your eyes scan over the room, glassed over. The sleeves feel like they dig into your wrist.

Faces close to each. Weapons stranded against each other. Looking for an opening. A thud rings out, as he lands to the floor. The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears.

You hit him with one final strike, and simultaneously the metal of the sword hit your leg with force.

"Take a break" Coach says.

He gets up from the floor, brushing the dirt off of him. Dropping it without a care, leaving.

Your hands feel sore to the touch. He comes to a sharp halt. Standing there before he utters. For the first time in his life, he has met an equal. A person on the same level as him.

"Byakuya Togami...."

"Excuse me?" You say, taking off your mask.

"Byakuya Togami.....it's my name, considering you asked earlier. However, do not think for a moment this means I am willing to fraternize with you."

Oh....So he's not so cold after all?

... To be continued ...

--------------------------------------------------

Should I continue this?

I can't believe this took me a month, it feels like nobody write about fencing even though it's such an interesting sport and I say this purely off research. Where I live we don't have that so I have no prior experience.

And when people write about fencing in media, it's very overlooked. It's kinda like a place holder for time rather than the main plot point but whatever.

Also shout out to the people who supported me on this long adventure. (You know who you are)

Thank you for reading, it is really appreciated. (◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

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prettypei · 1 year ago

Note

hi i'm here to request again! may i have another drabble with gojo, choso, yuta, kashimo and kamo! could you please write about how he accidentally discovers that gender neutral s/o is a good singer and used to be in an award-winning school choir? thank you!!

some context: s/o doesn't like to brag or even care enough to behave like that, so he isn't aware of the fact that s/o is an all-rounder and has many hidden skills and talents! (it's all thanks to their hardworking, passionate nature but also having countless hobbies due to their curious personality)

oh i just remembered... regarding the previous request, gege once said that gojo is canonically good at everything so he doesn't want to be too involved or attached to things. i think it's safe to say that he's actually good at cooking hahaha

plot: them with reader who's good at singing; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, choso, yuta, kashimo, kamo

warnings: kashi’s is a bit angsty at first

a/n: HI ANON!! Your requests are so cute to write yayaya! Fun fact: I was in the school choir in elementary! also I want to believe that gojo is vulnerable in some aspects of his character so he doesn't get too cocky LOL but I'll keep that in mind so I can write more accurate reqs :3 also for those who want to request in the future: this is the last post I'll accept with five characters since this was submitted before I changed my rules!!

✰GOJO

Normally, Gojo doesn’t press his ear to others doors, but normally, Gojo doesn’t hear a lot of amazing singers singing live. Gojo was at your apartment, and he wanted to give you a fright since he was supposed to leave 15 minutes ago, but now, he’s entranced by your voice. At first, he was shocked by your amazing voice, because, could someone really be that perfect? Attractive and a good voice? He just won in life! "Baby?" Gojo coos while knocking on the door. There's a reluctant pause before you open the door. "Gojo? Aren't you supposed to be gone?" You try to hide your bashful face with the brush in your hand. "Not the point, where did you learn to sing like that babe?" He smiles. "Well... I used to be in xxx choir.." Gojo's eyes widen in surprise as he feigns a dramatic gasp. "You mean... like the one who won the national competition?" "Yeah that's the one." You answer nonchalantly, as if it wasn't such a big deal. Gojo then wraps his long arms around you, mumbling about how "my baby's so talented" and "I have such an amazing partner". "Stop that, weirdo." You giggle while burying your face in his chest. "What else are you hiding from me?" Gojo's eyes twinkle as he says those words.

✰CHOSO

Choso should not have came here. You had reassured him that "It's fine! Go out with your family once in a while babe" but in reality, he preferred to spend some time with you. But when he brought this up to you, you said that you had something busy tonight. Busy? What did you have to do today? Animal Shelter? No, that was on Thursday mornings. Coffee Shop? No, that was on weekdays. Cheating? Choso feels guilty for even thinking about the idea of you cheating on him, but you had just disappeared so mysteriously that he didn't even have the chance to question you. So now, he's at a bar with his brother. "Choso! Have you tried the food here? It's delicious." Itadori grins while holding up a can of coke. "...no, not yet." Choso mumbles halfheartedly. "mic check, mic check!" The whole club goes silent as the manger steps up on the stage. "Hello! Welcome to xxx club! Can I hear a big round of applause from the audience?" The crowd around him erupts in cheers and Choso covers his ears. "Welcome, all! So today, xxx club has prepared a lovely guest that has been in high demand since the start of the year! Lets welcome... (name) from xxx choir!" Choso swears that his mouth fell to the ground as you waltzed onstage with a microphone. What? You're a singer? He's still in disbelief...and he loses it when you start singing. Choso had never head such beautiful singing in his life before... okay maybe it might be the fact that you're his s/o but still! The crowd erupts in cheers as you take a bow. In that moment, Your eyes meets Choso's and you give his an almost secret wink. Choso's whole face is red as he tries to hide his face with his hands. You and him were definitely gonna have a little talk tonight.

✰YUUTA

"I hate escape rooms..." You mumble while clutching onto yuuta's arm. "You were the one who suggested this for date night, remember?" Yuuta chuckled. “Shut up… and wipe that smirk off your face!” You hiss. “I’ll go find clues in this room and you go look for ones in another room, Kay?” Yuuta suggests. The bth of you split up, and you find a key. You rush to find your boyfriend, but… “BOO!” “AHHHHHH!” Yuuta falls to the ground, belly-laughing as he just gave you a heart-attack. “WHAT THE HELL?” You shriek. “You’re so-!” “I know, I know.” Yuuta smirks before grabbing the key from you. “Let’s head to the next room, shall we?” The both of you unlock the door as Yuuta starts flipping through the cabinets. “(name), I think-(name)?” He turns his head, confused to see no one. All of a sudden, he hears a creepy singing behind the door he came from. Its high and weird, like a little girl speaking, which does definitely not sound like your voice. Although the singing is good, he’s too creeped out to appreciate it, so he takes a chair in self-defense and opens the door, surprised to see you. “(name)?? B-but y-your voice-“ “I have many talents yuuta.” He shudders as you speak in that voice again. “Where did you learn how to sing like that though?” You shrug mysteriously. “Let’s head to the next room, shall we?” You tease before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Damn, he loves you.

✰KASHIMO

Kashimo doesn’t doubt you. He really, really doesn’t but when you had signed up for the national singing competition rather than the city one first, he asked you to think twice before going onstage, the biggest performance of your life happening in 5 minutes. “Kashi I’m gonna be fine!” You reassure him. “(name), I mean this in the nicest way possible, don’t go.” It was then when he knew he struck a nerve. “Kashi, can’t you just support me for once?” You mumble. “I just…” he grits his teeth as he musters out the words. “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt. I’ve done the same thing before… rushing into battle before I’m prepared… and I paid the price. I don’t.. wanna see it happen to you.” You eyes soften instantly as you press a kiss on his cheek. “Kashi, I’ve trained for a long time… plus you’ll be here for me right?” You grin. “(name)? You’re on.” A staff member pushes you onto the stage and all Kashimo can do is pray that you won’t get hurt. But as soon as you start singing, Kashimo knows, he knows that his worrying was for nothing. You sing like a bird flapping its long and delicate wings, spinning and spiriting into the wind, as if it was really where you belonged to. He watches in amazement as you channel your voice to the highest note, the whole crowd screaming as you do. And as the judges clap and the audience cheers, a certain someone pushes the guards away and engulfs you in a tight hug, to show you how much you meant to him.

✰KAMO

“Kamo! I bought your favorite…!” It’s pretty funny seeing your once stoic boyfriend be reduced to a sniveling mess, but you can’t help but feel pity for him. “Babe *sniffs* s’ okay, I can do it myself-“ “Say ahhhhhh…” you tease as you serve a spoon into his mouth, airplane style, earning a blush from him. “Shut up…” He hissed. “I’ll go cook some more chicken soup, Kay? Gimmie a sec.” You left his side to serve another bowl, and that’s when Kamo heard the most beautiful melody of his life. It was bittersweet and kind, a smooth mixture of love and…home. When had he ever felt at home before? Probably only with his mom or you. Sure, his eyesight was blurry and he has a raging fever, but he’s pretty sure that that wonderful melody is coming from you. “(name)?” He whispers when you come back. “Hmmm?” You sigh as you feed him another spoon. “Can you sing that melody you were humming again? It was…nice.” You nod as you start humming along to the tune, head bobbing up and down. Perhaps being sick wasn’t so bad after all.

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hello-nichya-here · 1 year ago

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Girl.... Imma need all the tea abt Michael's brothers being leaches.

I do remember that one of them said that there wouldn't be no Michael Jackson without Jackson 5. BFFR. omg.

Just look at Spotify monthly listeners. I tend to compare artists who debuted at the same time and if they are still alive or not.

Marlon Jackson: 945

Jackie Jackson: 1'180

Tito Jackson: 15'148

Jermaine Jackson: 771'648

The Jacksons: 2'862'021

The Jackson 5: 8'607'046

Michael Jackson: 43'067'506

I know Spotify listeners aren't everything in terms of success or talent. Just look how Selena Gomez supposedly has more than Beyonce. But here I mean the gap is huge.

And the fact they NEEDED him for the Victory Tour otherwise no one would have showed up.

...Anon, I'm gonna be honest here, I completely forgot Jermaine wasn't the only of MJ's brothers to try and have his own solo career. And it says a lot that even though he was the most sucessful of MJ's brothers, he was nowhere near as relevant as he wanted to be - let alone as relevant as Michael.

Also, I know that showbusiness is cruel, especially to child stars, and the music industry is super unfair and buries really talented artists while promoting others that are not even good - but lets not kid ourselves here.

Like you said, the very fact that they had to drag him into that tour to make it relevant already says a lot - but there's even more to that. Michael decided, on his own, that this was going to be the LAST tour, and announced it at the last concert, without discussing it with anyone. He didn't just quit, he essentially ended the group.

They tried to carry on without him a few years later, and it went nowhere because nobody cared about them if Michael wasn't there. Meanwhile, he had random dancers/back-up singers stand in for his brothers whenever he'd ocasionally perform "his" old songs, and nobody except their mom ever complained. I strongly suspect some people didn't even notice - first time I watched some of the performances of the Bad Era, I sure didn't.

They had a reunion in 2001 - in some concerts to celebrate MICHAEL's career, with a moment dedicated to some Jackson 5/the Jackson's hits. They tried for a reunion and their own TV show in 2009 - the same time Michael's final tour was supposed to happen. When Michael died, all the interest in the projects of his brother's died too, with their proper reunion only happening a few years later... in a tribute to Michael.

But by far the biggest evidence that Michael didn't need them was Motown 25. He performed with his brothers, and even though he was obviously the star, they were still great, truly fucking awesome, you can clearly tell they are all giving it all their talent and energy.

Then he performed Billie Jean and did the moonwalk without a breaking a sweat and it was like his brothers never existed. Their big moment was Michael's warm up, and his big moment had him on stage by himself, singing the biggest hit of his SOLO career, overshadowing everything that came before it.

The only one of his siblings that ever managed to not be in his shadow was Janet. And even then, despite being HUGE, she was not KING OF POP huge. Probably because literally nobody else, before or since, could do what Michael did.

For fuck's sake, look at "We Are The World." Pretty much every famous singer of the decade was there, every single one of them giving it their all - and Michael is still clearly the star, because he wasn't just better than his siblings, he was better than everybody.

And I think that's the reason why his brothers never fully let go of all their envy. Pretty much everyone in that family exploited Michael for his money/relevance, but since his brothers were once his bandmates, they felt full on entitled towards not just Michael's money, but his career in general - because their time as a band was the most sucess they were ever gonna achieve, but it was quickly becoming just "Michael Jackson's early years, when he was not as famous as he is right now, but was already way more famous than his brothers will ever be." They were dependent on him, and were now being told "No, he won't let you all tag along forever."

Hence them demanding to be part of "Off The Wall" and getting mad when Michael didn't let them, making him tour with them singing the band's biggest hits instead of doing a tour for Thriller, fucking raiding his house for valluable stuff, using his money to buy mansions for themselves and raise their kids/pay child support, claiming that if things had been just slightly different their own solo careers totally could have been just as big as Michael's, etc.

It wasn't just that their sibling slowly became way better than them and eventually didn't need them to be sucessful. Michael NEVER needed them. He was always the star, the one people were more interested in, the one with the most talent, and eventually he realized that, if he continued letting his family pressure him into ignoring his own goals and focused on "paying his debt to his siblings (and father)" he was at best going to be held back forever so his brother's could stay relevant at his expense, and at worst he'd ruin his own career completely just so they could all fail together and his brother's egos would be spared.

Again, see how HE basically ended the band (or at least the version the public actually cared about). To them, it wasn't Michael going solo, it was him kicking them out. Like they would have TOTALLY made Thriller with him, or could have each done it on their own. Like his solo works are theirs by extention just because they used to do things as a group, and therefore they deserve the profit and the credit for something they were not involved in.

Joseph, of course, did not fucking help make the situation any better. I already mentioned all the physical abuse he put his children through during reharsals, but there's one more thing: he'd sometimes deliberately compare his other sons to Michael when they made a mistake while dancing or singing, to make them feel worse about themselves for not being as good as their brother. OBVIOUSLY that led to a ton of misplaced resentment towards their sibling for them, and to Michael feeling guilty about something that wasn't his fault.

Joseph is also the person who taught them their very warped idea of "family." He had always said that family was the most important thing in the world - because he was one of these parents who believed that, since he was responsible for them being alive, they owed him literally EVERYTHING and thus had to put up with EVERYTHING.

He wanted to beat them with a belt whenever they did anything wrong? They should just shut up and endure it, it's just discipline, and they wouldn't be going through that if they could just do what they're told.

He wants to control their careers, have "his share" of their money, and then use said money to cheat on their mother? Doesn't matter, he is still the man of the house if he's not the one making the money, and thus they owe him respect and shouldn't meddle on what he does with his life.

Michael is clearly depressed about all the trauma he was put through and the childhood that was stolen from him? Oh please, he should be thankful that he was made to work like a dog for most of his life, it's the thing that has allowed the whole family to live not just comfortably, but luxuriously - with his money. That he totally only made because of Joseph, so they really don't owe anything to Michael.

It's really no surprise that, after being raised by that man, Michael's brothers turned out the way they did. Their complaints were "God, he told me to buy a smaller house since I can't afford a mansion instead of buying said mansion for me, the watch he gave me for my birthday is only worth ONE million dollars instead of two, and he will only let us do a medley of our Jackson 5 hits during his show, not tour with us again, how selfish!" meanwhile Michael was complaining that since everyone, including his own family, was only ever thinking of how being close to him would benefit their image/lead to them making money, he was incredibly lonely and miserable.

Nine times out of ten, Michael helped his family out of "obligation" - because that's what they turned their relationship into. A transaction, a contract. Michael "paying his debt" to people that cared about his money and fame so much that they often forgot he was a person that, even after all they did, STILL loved them.

But I guess "We are totally responsible for his sucess, and in fact could have totally been just as famous" is a much more pleasant version of the story than "We completely failed our brother, and we should thank God everyday that he never fully broke free of this AWFUL family, because otherwise we'd be broke and even more irrelevant."

#asks #michael jackson #king of pop

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apocalypticavolition · 9 months ago

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Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 1: Waiting

Only way to get back into my groove is to post as often as possible so let's do this! As always, people who hate spoilers (for this book, for this series, for everything that has ever or will ever exist) should not Keep Reading.

This chapter begins with the ravens icon because it features gratuitous abuse of corvids.

The land seemed to be waiting. Waiting for something to burst.

The land and Rand being one and all, presumably it's waiting for Rand himself to snap and go on a solo adventure.

He sniffed the wind without thinking. The smell of horse predominated, and of men and men’s sweat. A rabbit had gone through those trees not long since, fear powering its run, but the fox on its trail had not killed there. He realized what he was doing, and stopped it.

I really "enjoy" how we jump from Perrin whining about Moiraine holding things up and having a tight grip to Perrin holding up his own character arc with a vicegrip. I do feel like our boy will be making subtle progress this book, at least.

They were not as tall as he, nor as big—years as a blacksmith’s apprentice had given him arms and shoulders to make two of most men’s—but he had begun shaving every day to stop their jokes about his youth. Friendly jokes, but still jokes. He would not have them start again because he spoke of a feeling.

I would think the best way to avoid accusations of youth would be to keep your facial hair but maybe Perrin's still in that patchy phase. You can really see just how tightly strung he is that even friendly jokes from dudes he's been traveling with for months get to him.

“It has to report. To a Halfman, usually.” In the Borderlands there was a bounty on ravens; no one there ever dared assume any raven was just a bird. “Light, if Heartsbane saw what the ravens saw, we would all have been dead before we reached the mountains.”

Of course, if the Halfmen were at all clever about their shadow jumping then they'd be able to significantly narrow the delay in response times. That said,

“Too long for horseback,” Masema sneered. The triangular scar on his dark cheek twisted his contemptuous grin even more. “A good breastplate will stop even a pile arrow except at close range, and if your first shot fails, the man you’re shooting at will carve your guts out.”

It's good to see that months of hanging out have done absolutely nothing to make Masema more likable. Fain's handiwork is alarming with how well it sticks.

The Shienarans knew how far he could see, but they seemed to take it as a matter of course, that and the color of his eyes, as well. They did not know everything, not by half, but they accepted him as he was. As they thought he was. They seemed to accept everything and anything.

Their open acceptance of Perrin and his talents really only makes his reticence all the more frustrating. It's not like he's among the Aes Sedai who might try to gentle him or among the Whitecloaks who'd try to kill him. Dude has possibly the best support network in the world and he still tries to bury everything.

Ragan’s topknot waved as he shook his head. “A Tinker wouldn’t be mixed in this. Either she’s not a Tinker, or she is not the one we are supposed to meet.”

Okay I guess the Shienarians aren't completely perfect, since even the nicer ones are a bit biased against the Traveling People. As Uno points out though, it's very impressive that she's come all this way.

The raven, Perrin thought. Stop looking at that bird and come on, woman. Maybe you’ve brought the word that finally takes us out of here. If Moiraine means to let us leave before spring. Burn her! For a moment he was not sure whether he meant the Aes Sedai, or the Tinker woman who seemed to be taking her own time.

I can't help but feel that despite everything, Perrin might actually be the least patient and even-headed of the boys. He plays a good stoic on the outside - usually - but it's difficult to see early!Rand having this kind of thought process.

She was not young—gray showed thick in her hair where it was not hidden by her cowl—but her face had few lines, other than the disapproving frown she ran over their weapons. If she was alarmed at meeting armed men in the heart of mountain wilderness, though, she gave no sign. Her hands rested easily on the high pommel of her worn but well-kept saddle. And she did not smell afraid.

She's not long for this book, but I do respect Leya quite a bit. This should be quite terrifying.

Leya shrugged and answered hesitantly. “I . . . knew that if I came this way, someone would find me and take me to her. I . . . just . . . knew. I have news for her.”

One wonders what Moiraine is doing to pull off this effect. It might just be that her eyes-and-ears are entirely mundane and simply under instruction to play things up as magical influence; I certainly can't think of any magic in the series that Moiraine would have access to at present that could do this... but it's still early enough in the series that this might be the remnant of some idea of Jordan's that never came to fruition.

“It is possible to oppose evil without doing violence.” Her voice held the simplicity of someone stating an obvious truth.

This feels like a lesson Perrin was meant to learn along the way but of course he never quite does, does he? Even at the end, when his dreamwalking could open him up to non-violent courses of action, he's still pretty much just locked in battle with Slayer and Lanfear. I can't even fully blame Sanderson for this because it's not like Jordan had any better ideas.

She gave him a penetrating look. “And yet you are not happy with your weapons.” How did she know that? He shook his head irritably, shaggy hair swaying. “The Creator made the world,” he muttered, “not I. I must live the best I can in the world the way it is.” “So sad for one so young,” she said softly. “Why so sad?”

For such a peaceful people, they sure do love annihilating their opponents with words. Perrin's got no argument... and again, he won't ever find that better way.

In the distance, the side of a mountain had been carved into the semblance of two towering forms. A man and a woman, Perrin thought they might be, though wind and rain had long since made that uncertain. Even Moiraine claimed to be unsure who they were supposed to be, or when the granite had been cut.

Perhaps King Eawynd of Safer and his queen - or perhaps even him and Mabriam, to celebrate the Compact of the Ten Nations. Perhaps King Aedomon to celebrate his battles against Manetheren. Probably no one we've heard of though.

When he looked over his shoulder, she was casting worried glances up the steep slopes to either side. Scattered trees perched precariously above them. It appeared impossible they would not fall. The Shienarans rode easily, at last beginning to relax.

Maybe it's just that I've been taking a break for a month, maybe it's changing the program I'm using for the ebooks, but I feel like this book has a bit more environmental description than the last one did. It makes it a bit harder to comment - Jordan's descriptions are all quite good so what is there to say - but it really builds up the isolation of this strange mountain camp.

A four-legged serpent scaled in gold and scarlet, golden maned like a lion, and its feet each tipped with five golden claws. A banner of legend. A banner most men would not know if they saw it, but would fear when they learned its name.

The Pattern really made some interesting choices when it decided that the calling card of the Dragon shouldn't be immediately recognizable, didn't it?

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #leya #masema dagar #ragan #uno nomesta #loial #min farshaw

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devilbrew-69 · 14 days ago

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Guilty Gear Tf Story- Becoming Sol and Leo

Author's Note- This was anon request that wanted me to write a story about two guys transforming into Sol and Leo from guilty gear. I thought it was hot concept and had a lot of fun writing it. I'm always open to taking requests for gay smut involving buff men.

If there's one thing Brad couldn't get enough of, it was fighting games. He grew up playing legendary titles like Street Fighter, Tekken, and King of Fighters. The game series that currently caught his eye was Guilty Gear. He invited his boyfriend Noah over to his college dorm so they could play a couple of rounds.

" Remind me again you invited me to play a fighting game all things?" Noah asked. He was a portly man with a chubby body, short white hair and a pair of glasses. He'd much rather have his head buried in a book than a game.

" 'Cause fighting games are the peak of entertainment, especially when you have a friend to play it with!" Brad beamed. He was a whole foot taller than Noah and had a more toned body.

" I fail to see the appeal of mindlessly mashing buttons until the opponent's health bar deplenishes."

" It's only button mashing if you're a noob at it! There's tons of sweet combos and strategy that goes into a good game. I finally bought Guilty Gear Strive, the apex of the genre. This game is definitely gonna let you see the light." Brad held the game case in the air like it was a holy grail.

Noah simply rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's goofiness. Brad booted the game up and went to the character selection screen. He went with his favorite character Sol Badguy. He loved the guy's confident attitude and badass fighting still. Noah had no idea who any of these characters were so he just followed his gut. Leo Whitefang looked pretty tough and he ess incredibly handsome so he gave him a shot.

Despite his love for the genre, Brad wasn't even all that good at playing Guilty Gear. His fighting style was sloppy and Noah was getting the edge on him just by button-mashing. It was kinda embarrassing on his part. He was the one who was supposed to have all the experience.

Their intense game session would eventually end in a draw between them. " See? I told you fighting games don't take any skill. You couldn't beat me even with all your talent." Noah goaded.

" I ugh... I was just going easy on you 'cause you aren't used to these types of games. I could've easily destroyed you with perfect health!" Brad said.

Brad was about to suggest to them a rematch when he felt his body heat up for a moment. The two men felt a sudden surge of energy wash over them. Noah was the first to notice the changes in his body. His round belly began to flatten, the excess fat migrating to his behind. His already shapely rear blossomed into a watermelon-sized booty you could stack a plate on. Washboard abs appeared on his stomach and any remaining fat was transferred to his pecs. No longer was Noah's hair a short white bob. It shifted into a wild mess of dirty blonde hair that spiked at the end. His cute chubby cheeks went away also. They got replaced by a chiseled jawline that held a sharp chinstrap beard. Completing the transformation was a black vest over a white collar shirt, a long orange jacket, and a pair of white pants.

Brad's transformation was no less dramatic. He was now sporting a long brown ponytail, a dog tag necklace that rested on his beefy chest, a badass-looking red jacket, and white jeans. He had become the spitting image of Sol Badguy save for one major improvement. Sol from the games was known for being a top-heavy guy, but this version of him had a thick set of thighs to compliment the rest of his body. His ass was of course ginormous just like Leo's.

" What in the world just happened!?" Noah exclaimed as he looked at his new body in astonishment.

" Dude I think that game disc must've been magic or something! We just turned into the hottest guys in gaming!" Instead of being shocked, Brad took the whole thing in stride. He just turned into one of his biggest videogame crushes. He now had the type of body other guys could only dream of. He stood in front of his full-length mirror to flex his epic muscles.

" This is horrible!" Leo exclaimed. " I don't know what kind of weird magic that seller used, but you need to get him to turn us back. I can't be seen looking like this!" Noah was obviously distraught. He looked like one of the himbos from the gay porn doujins Brad often showed him. Super muscular bodies with the biggest of butts. He remembered reading a short takezamurai doujin where Leo was a prostitute and a Devilbrew fanfiction where Leo made porn movies with Sol as his boyfriend. Since Noah didn't know a single thing about Leo's lore, he could only see the character as a massive whore. He wondered if others would see him in the same light.

" Bro, this is literally the coolest thing that could happen to us. These bodies are too hot to let go to waste."

Brad, or rather, Sol, pressed his chest against his boyfriend and looked deeply into his eyes. The two were locked in. The sexual tension couldn't understated.

Noah tried to back away, but Sol grabbed him by the crotch and began to gently rub the area. " Doesn't this turn you on? You were all bricked up when you read those doujins with me. You know you like it."

" I don't..." Noah tried to deny it, but his pleasure was evident from his blushing red face. Sol definitely was an incredibly attractive man that made him hard. He then felt Sol grab his ass, roughly squeezing both cheeks. The cheeks were so big they couldn't even fit in his hands. Noah had never been treated like this before. Maybe this was the big change he always needed. Sol kissed him on the lips while continuing to fondle with his genitals. It made Leo go weak in the knees having such a buff man feel him up.

The next thing Leo knew, he was in the bedroom getting his fat cheeks clapped by Sol. Sol fucked him furiously with all the power of a Gear. Leo's walls stood no chance against him. Leo felt his anus get crushed and his organs get rearranged by the dick of his dreams. His cheeks clapped rhythmically like it was some type of Morse code to tell Sol how good the dick was. Sol clearly understood the code and replied by slapping the ass hard enough to make them red.

The two men were virgins until recently, but they were fucking like pros. Maybe the game disc blessed them with incredible sex skills as a bonus. Their dorm neighbors surely heard all their moaning, clapping and ass squelching through those thin walls. If they knew all that noise was coming from video game characters come to life, they'd probably film the sex and show it to all their friends.

After an hour of nonstop fucking, their lovemaking had reached a dramatic finish. Sol and Leo blew their loads at the same time and drenched each other in their fluids. They were so high from all that amazing sex they could barely think straight.

" Now do you see the awesomeness of fighting games?" Sol asked with ragged breathing.

Leo smirked and kissed his lover on the lips. " Oh most definitely. Men from fighting games are just built different. "

☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was time for one of the biggest gaming conventions of the year so of course Sol and Leo made sure to be there. They swaggered all around the venue showing off their "cosplay" and letting eager fans take selfies with them. They were spitting images of the real Sol and Leo except for their much more revealing attire. Sol modified his black shirt to be a crop top that barely covered his pecs and his white jeans were now booty shorts that might as well have been a thong. Leo had done the same thing to his outfit so that they were matching. Total relationship goals.

" Now that has got to be the best cosplay I've seen yet." Leo turned around and couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was his voice actor Jamieson Prince! Standing next to him was David Forseth, the voice of Sol! Sol and Leo stood there with shocked expressions.

" You guys really knocked it out of the park with this one," David said. " You totally look like our characters!"

" Agreed. I don't remember Leo being quite so proactive, however." Jamieson said.

" I like it tho. It's kinda like they're paying tribute to the gay community. Is that the vibe you guys were going for?" David asked.

" ....Uh yeah totally! We take our cosplay super seriously and we're gay af so we wanted to combine our two passions." Sol said.

" We're really big fans of your work so if it isn't too much to ask, could we have your autographs? Preferably one on paper and another on our butts." Leo said.

" Now that's a request I don't get everyday. You guys deserve it for your outstanding job." Jamieson smiled.

The two actors handed the lovers paper autographs before writing their names on their gelatinous butts. They were even generous enough to take pictures for them so they could see their butt autographs. Sol and Leo never thought the day would come when they got to interact with their voice actors and they couldn't be any happier that it actually happened.

#guilty gear #tf fiction #gay writing #gay smut #gay fanfiction #yaoi fanfiction #transformation #gay #sol x leo

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harmonyckrs · 1 year ago

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Some Specter Family Headcanons (mainly Olive bc she's one of my faves)

The Muenda family was an upper class household, and Olive was supposed to be the heir to the family due to being the older one. Her parents considered giving the title of heir to Willow instead due to Willow being more sociable, but Olive found out and got them killed for it

Everyone in the family is really tall. Ophelia is the shortest out of them all, but is still tall compared to other people in Strangetown

Willow was never aware that Olive was behind their parents' murder until Olive was trying to kill her and Creon. Due to Willow not updating her will in time, Olive got custody of Ophelia

Olive sets up her house in a way that makes almost everything a hazard that could lead to death. This is how she was able to get away with murder, as most people viewed her as a scatterbrained woman who's accident-prone and lucky

Olive has attempted to kill Ophelia a couple of times but Ophelia is usually smart/observant enough to notice the traps Olive sets up and is able to avoid them. Once she turned eighteen she immediately moved in with Johnny and never looked back

Olive's motives for killing people involves wanting to see the Grim Reaper as well as having a very twisted sense of justice. Each person in the garden has "wronged her" in some way, with the exception of Ichabod who died normally

The service workers usually made some kind of quip that Olive interpreted as an insult or were slightly rude towards her due other circumstances, like them being tired

Olive met all of her previous lovers through the parties she attended. She became jaded after Earl E. DeMise but started getting over it once she got to Ichabod

Olive never cared for Hugh Thanasia or Rigger Mortis and mainly just married them for the sake of having a husband and so she could eventually sacrifice them to see the Grim Reaper

On Halloween, Olive turns off all of her lights and leaves a bowl of candy in front of her gate. Nervous also does this during the period of time when he lived alone

There's various trinkets buried in the garden that is associated with different victims. Olive also makes everyone's tombstones herself and has a special talent in making sculptures

Nervous has a random assortment of skills/knowledge and secretly has dark powers as a result of being the son of the Grim

Olive and Nervous aren't really close as Olive doesn't approve of anyone that Nervous chooses to date and usually makes passive aggressive remarks towards them, which is noticeable by both Nervous and whoever his partner is

Didn't feel like making a Mii for Ophelia lol sorry. I don't have any particuarly strong headcanons for her at all. I think she's either straight or bi

#olive specter #nervous subject #ophelia nigmos #ichabod specter #headcanons

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groovesnjams · 2 years ago

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youtube

"We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel

DV:

Since the original WDSTF is a frequently-cited contender for the worst song of all time, the concept of doing a cover version that updates its references seems either borderline-genius (because there's nowhere to go but up) or exceptionally foolish (because the core idea is so flawed that there's no value to uncover.) It makes sense that Fall Out Boy would do this, and it makes sense that the result reveals that both things are true. Here's the thing: I come not to bury "We Didn't Start the Fire (A Fall Out Boy cover of the Billy Joel song "We Didn't Start the Fire)" but to praise it. Because it gets right one of the core things that Joel got wrong. The original "Fire" is a series of signifiers, ironically juxtaposed and strung together as disconnected events - a chronolog of nearly half a century that Joel connects into a meta-argument that "things happen" to every generation. But "H-bomb" didn't just materialize out of thin air, nor did "Belgians in the Congo" or the Vietnam war that Joel references a couple times. His is a history without subjects, and consequently without responsibility or blame. "AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz," he sings: these are presented as merely things that happened, not deliberate choices with moral consequence.

Fall Out Boy make no such pretense. Their "Fire" is a list of events that made an impact on Pete Wentz and crew, abandoning the pseudo-objectivity of chronological order in favor of a random, stream of consciousness approach. "World Trade, second plane" is unquestionably a defining event of the past 30 years, but "Cubs go all the way again" and dual Michael Jordan references only belong on a list that comes from a band that claims Chicago as its hometown. Add Captain Planet and the overly-cute "Prince and the Queen die"? This is something that only Fall Out Boy could - or would - attempt. It's a cliffsnotes version of their specific lifetimes, and can't possibly be seen as anything else. It's dumb - so dumb, like "Trump gets impeached twice/ Polar bears got no ice" is not even the nadir - but Fall Out Boy aren't cloaking their point of view like the world's worst historian (Billy Joel.) I'll gladly take their nonsense honesty over Joel's logical elision of history.

Or rather, I won't, because while Fall Out Boy upgrade the lyrics the fundamental concept here is so useless - and the melody so grating - that it's impossible to want to listen to this godforsaken song more than once, as a curiosity. It says something fascinating about Fall Out Boy that in 2023, a decade into an afterlife that's now lasted nearly twice as long as their original run, they're following up a return-to-form album with a one-off single as wildly misconstrued as this and managing to get even one thing right. I think what it says is, "Imagine Dragons better get their shit together if they want to compete."

MG:

"We Didn't Start the Fire" is an absolutely vile song, a piece of pure capitalist crap. Whether Billy Joel's smooth, solid, original turd or the clasp of dingleberries that make up this cover, it's still flag-waving propaganda barrelling around the bend. How can you both assert your nativist perspective as the center of the universe and excuse yourself and your fellow countrymen for any responsibility in all the wars, slavery, and unfounded hatred we've wrought in our existence? You can't, but it warms my heart that some of the richest men in the last two centuries have attempted the impossible. Fall Out Boy's stab at ironic juxtaposition might be funny in an arch way if Pete Wentz weren't an actually talented lyricist capable of staking out emotional truth in his work. Instead he's wasting his time not quite rhyming "black parade" with "Y2K." And while we're here, are these supposed to be the good events, the bad events, or just the events most worthy of laminating and tacking to the bulletin board? Sandy Hook, Columbine -- brutal, horrific losses of very young life -- on one hand, Meghan Markle and Venus and Serena -- famous black women -- on the other. What's the suggestion here?

Don't bother. There's nothing at the core of this song, nothing on this song's outer rings, nothing at all. Fall Out Boy have robbed these words of the energy they possessed in their inert state, produced meaninglessness where potential once stood. Defending this song is an exercise in tragedy but typing on about something so obviously wretched and doomed isn't a much better use of time.

#music #fall out boy #billy joel #we didn't start the fire #utter fucking shit

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alexsfictionaddiction · 5 months ago

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Review: The House Of Broken Bricks by Fiona Williams

The soft verdant tones on this striking book cover caught my eye and apparently that was enough for me to give this book a go. I then saw it predicted to be on this year's longlist for the Women's Prize for Fiction (it wasn't) and learned a bit more about the story. I was braced for a tearjerker and it definitely is that.

Tess and her husband Richard's house in rural England was once loud and chaotic with the energy of their twin sons but now the quiet has set in. Both of them go about their lives avoiding painful conversations and burying their heartache. However, the time may be coming for their healing journey to begin.

We hear from all four members of the family's perspectives and this really enriched the storytelling. I saw events from every point of view and was able to piece together the imagery in a much more accurate, vivid manner than if we'd had the whole story from one or two voices. Max and Sonny both speak about their unique twinhood and how their differing skin tones affects their lives as brothers. The bond between them is beautiful and their relationship has a kind of ethereal vibe to it, perhaps for an obvious reason -however, it would be a spoiler to disclose this here.

Grief is probably the overriding theme of the book and its coldness does seep through the entire narrative. I can only describe the atmosphere of this book as grey. Everything just seemed very drab and washed out, which reflects the horrendous event that the whole thing hinges on. Tess appears to bear the brunt of the grief but I really felt the ripples of it in Richard in his aloofness and actually in both of the boys too. Williams did such a good job of demonstrating how grief can manifest differently. The brokenness is reflected in the house too.

Sonny's voice was very heavily descriptive. He notices absolutely everything and it was actually his distinctive voice that allowed me to cotton on to what was happening within the family very early on. We aren't told exactly what has happened until near the end of the novel but something was loudly telling me within the opening pages and I couldn't ignore it. I'm not sure whether Williams intended it to be a twist or whether we were always supposed to know. Either way, whenever you realise, it will be sure to hit you hard!

We meet a variety of characters throughout the narrative including the wider family and neighbours. Marge is an elderly neighbour who Tess takes care of and she often takes the boys with her when she visits. She explicitly makes the comparison between the broken house and the souls of its inhabitants. I think I would have liked this parallel to have featured more prominently throughout the book, as I always find it a really powerful visual when a character's psyche or emotions reflect the setting.

The House Of Broken Bricks is a reflective, quiet book with some devastating depictions of grief. There wasn't much in the way of plot and I wasn't really wondering who had died because as mentioned, I realised very quickly. Williams is a talented writer though and I can still picture the house and the neighbourhood very vividly, which I have to commend her for. I'd recommend it to anyone who likes literary fiction about families and strong emotions with some deep character studies.

#the house of broken bricks #fiona williams #literary fiction #book review #review #books #bookworm

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theheadlessgroom · 1 year ago

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"And despite saying looks aren't everything, you always fixate over mine." Constance haughtily remarked, "Hmph! For one who claims there's more to love than good looks, you can't seem to understand how my husbands ever fell for me. There are plenty of ways to make someone fall for you. Why Ms. Emily barely had to do anything to make you fall for her." She snickered with a wry smile, "Part of me thinks you might just be jealous." "And besides, for as 'terrifying' as she may be, you still don't see her around, do you? I don't believe either of us have any control over that whatsoever." Constance twirled a lock of hair around her fingers, staring off dismissively, "Who knows? I may even come to replicate her 'talents' someday." The Black Widow smirked, next interlocking her fingers. "After all, your bride exists in memory, surely, but who here has merchandise with her name and face on it, hmm? And who here has blood on their hands? Emily may have disturbed, but she's no killer." Though her grin quickly became more malicious as she added, "I'm sure you and the man she was meant to marry can attest to that." Constance outstretched her arms, tilting her head back slightly as she sighed, "Perhaps I could've loved him, from what you've said of him, he sounds like my type. Though, perhaps if he were richer." She twisted her arms around again to hold her shoulders, "After all, if he were marrying Emily for her money, that means he probably didn't have much himself, did he? Sorry, but even if I can respect his mentality, I could never be with such a pathetic man. What's there to gain?" She smiled serenely, "...Well, apart from a wedding of course. Those are always lovely to attend. My weddings were always the talk of the town in my life, you know?" She chuckled a bit from behind the back of her hand, fondly reminiscing, "And I'll have you know I don't JUST think of murder and money. How blasé. My husbands can attest that our marriages are perfect and that I am a wonderful bride, they're all perfectly happy and content in our relationship, even if they don't have much of a choice otherwise." She paused for a moment, before continuing, looking off, "...And yes, yes, it was a figure of speech. Honestly, as if her going on about that wasn't bad enough as it is. That girl never shuts up about it." She rolled her eyes, clearly thinking about the other stretching portrait ghosts.

"Oh, please," Randall rolled his eyes at the "jealous" comment-pretty bold claim in his book. "I just don't understand what any of your husbands would see in you: You're not particularly attractive, and your personality isn't much better. I suppose the only answer is that either you were that good an actress (which I doubt...), and your husbands were all blind as bats. Either way, poor bastards.

"And believe me, Constance, the chances of you becoming anywhere nearly as frightening as my Emily are the same as the chance of pigs sprouting wings," he snorted. "And she's a far better woman than you could ever be-you're pathetic, making your money by burying a hatchet in the necks of love-hungry men. You're not better than her just because you have the willingness to kill. You're nothing but a monster-you say you love your husbands, but what you really love is their money, and the attention you probably got after you killed them. You probably kicked up some big ol' crocodile tears for the press, didn't'cha? Tragic widow, oh, everyone come gather 'round the poor, heartbroken young bride! And all their wealthy friends did come along to comfort you, and you had a whole lotta new prey...

You're nothing but a soulless witch, Constance, and I wish when you kicked the bucket that Ol' Scratch came along to take you down to Hell as his bride. Though that might be too cruel to do to even him, honestly."

#Anonymous

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xbaebsae · 3 years ago

Text

When I woke up the next morning, face buried in a dumb fishing pun, I felt like something had changed. Maybe it was the lack of embarrassment on my part, usually the only way I'd end up this close to him was with a lot of whiskey involved. Maybe it would just hit me twice as hard later. But somewhere deep down I knew it was because this was the first time he'd ever trusted me with something personal.

And from Tucker I knew that that trust was very hard to come by.

This stunning piece is a commission I got from the seriously insanely talented @ziorre. You have no idea how much I loved this from the very first sketch onwards. This piece is perfection, like a screenshot of the image in my mind when I wrote the scene for this, absolutely crazy! I can't recommend to commission her enough when she reopens. Trust me, there's just no way you'll be disappointed ever.

Part of the chapter that is directly related to this image is attached below, many kisses to anyone who actually reads it ♥

(...)

“What about your mother?” His posture grew tense and I was ready for him to avoid the topic like any other slightly more personal question. “Don’t ya already know my whole family story?”, he scoffed and glued his eyes on a pile of junk at the opposite side of the room. I knew from Tucker that Jakob hated their family story becoming center of attention in the project's religion. “I know Joseph’s, not yours.” “Well, a lot of what he wrote into his book is true for all of us.” “A lot, but not all. I know about your dad, not much is mentioned about your mum, though.” After he showed no sign of answering I figured I’d change the topic. “It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk about -” “I’ve got this one memory”, he interrupted me clumsily, as if he'd wanted to get it out before he could change his mind again. “Was never really able to place or make sense of it.” I had no idea when I'd moved closer to him but suddenly our faces weren’t too far apart. “It’s safe with me”, I whispered, my hand moved to his leg in an attempt of reassurance. A cocky smile rushed over his lips. “I know, cause if ya told anyone, you would have to explain how ya got to know it in the first place.” My fingers pinched into the skin of his thigh but he didn’t even flinch. “Ugh, I swear whenever I try to be nice to you-”, I rambled, rolling my eyes and pulling my hand away, but he grabbed it and put it back where it was. Our eyes met and it was one of those indefinable moments that told me nothing and everything at once.

After a moment of silence he looked down at my hand on his thigh. “I was a child, toddler probably, sittin’ on the counter in our kitchen. Woman with a red mane of hair was humming a melody I can’t recall, swirling through the room. She was happy, truly happy, either cookin’ or bakin’ and there was nobody else with us.” He paused for a moment. “No idea who she was." His brows frowned and I figured this memory still bothered him even today. "She wasn't your mum?'' I asked carefully. Nothing I would have hated more than to ruin this moment. Subtly, he shook his head. "Nah, our mother was blonde ‘n in all years I remember with her I’d never seen her smile. She hated cookin' too, my dad's fault.” "Do you think she's… your actual mum?" His smile grew sad even though he tried his best to hide it. "Guess I'll never know. Maybe she was, dad hadn’t liked when I'd asked. But maybe she's not real at all. Just a little boy dreaming someone into existence. Might run in the family, y’know? Joe hearin' voices, I'm seeing faces…" "You aren’t like him!", my voice was unexpectedly loud when I interrupted and I lowered both it and my face in a hint of embarrassment immediately when I added: "You aren't crazy, Jake. I don't know the answer to who she is either, if she’s real or not, but maybe it simply doesn't matter." Lost in thoughts he watched me as if my face would offer some kind of new truth. "Suppose it doesn't."

#srsly i could go on and on about the elements that make this all so perfect #but ziorre already heard that like a million times in the past weeks so uhm xD #thank you for creating this for me #far cry 5 #deputy rheese anne bennett #jacob seed #obligatory rcart tag #gifts and commissions

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