#there were actually a lot more songs that almost made it to the list | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiiikiko · 1 month ago

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𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 [4] : casual

“I’m not jealous..”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

ellie williams x fem!reader | friends with benefits ft. sub!ellie

casual m.list | tlou m.list

tw: smut, jealous, confusing relationships, public sex

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

While getting ready for tonight’s concert, Ellie was hanging all over you, peppering your neck with kisses, grabbing your waist, and staring at you with lust filled eyes while you got dressed. You could tell that her need was getting the better of her and it was frustrating her because no matter what she did, you wouldn’t give into her smooth one liners or the lingering touches. Eventually, she groaned and left the apartment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how mad Ellie looked, you would feel bad right now if it weren’t for her doing the same thing to you countless times.

You smiled a little as you walked into the bar, smoke filling your nostrils and the sound of glasses clinking, it was a familiar feeling now, almost like you came home, it was nice. You made your way to the back of the bar where the rest of your band was, Manny was plucking at his guitar strings and making sure each string was in the right note while he talked to Owen about how he may or may not have banged Owen’s ex-girl’s brother’s dog’s groomer’s daughter’s pre-school teacher.

“Hey,” you muttered, the cigarette on your lips dangling by the side of your mouth as you got a cup of water ready.

“Oh, hey,” Abby muttered, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning to Manny and hitting him in the chest with his drumsticks, making you giggle. Sure, you didn’t have as much history with these guys as you did in your last band but, they were starting to feel like home.

“So, let’s go over the set list again,” Abby pulls out a paper with some sloppy handwriting on it, must be Owens, “So first..”

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Finally, the concert was beginning, you took a few deep breaths, sucking in the familiar taste of smoke and washing it down with some ice cold water. The band had gained some attention since they brought you on, even some familiar faces from your old band’s crowds were seen in the bar. Not to mention, Ellie’s band mates were here which meant a few of their ‘groupies’ were also here.

“Hey, how’s everyone doin’ tonight?” Manny yelled into his mic, eliciting more than a few cheers from the girls in the crowd, no doubt his own groupies. You had to thank Manny, actually, if he didn’t get around like an un-neutered dog, you might not have a crowd this big.

You take a step closer to the mic, wrapping your hand around the cold metal, “So the first song we’ll be singin’ t’night is a newish song, ‘s called ‘May Your Survival be Long,’ or alternatively, ‘May your Death be Swift.’”

The drums began, you could feel the beat of them rushing through you, it almost felt like your heartbeat was synchronized with them, then the guitar began, matching the blood coursing through your veins, finally, it was your cue to begin.

The song was actually a lot more popular than you thought it’d be, not that you ever doubted your song writing abilities.

Even though the crowd cheered you on and the drums made your brain go fuzzy, you couldn’t help but think about Ellie. You could feel her eyes on you but couldn’t see her through the stagelights and smoke filled room but you knew, those green eyes were watching your every move. Hell, you felt like YOU were the one being hunted by a wolf, pretty ironic right?

The concert came to an end, you gargled salt water, Abby greeted some girls in the crowd, Owen was packing up the tech equipment, and Manny was leaning against the stage while accepting a free drink from a very pretty girl. Your eyes went back to Abby, her strong arms easily being able to put her drums back in their cases.

“Good set,” you turn to see Jesse, “That song, uh, ‘May Your Death be Long’ ain’t half bad, now maybe if you—.”

You scoff, “Oh, shut it,’ Jesse feigns being offended and chuckles.

“Nah but seriously, that was really good, very, mm, Foo Fightersish I really..”

Jesse continued while your eyes scanned the bars, “Hey, the rest of your band here?”

“What? Oh, Dina was here but she left early, said she felt sick. Didn’t even stay for a drink and Ellie’s over there but she’s been out of it all night, dunno why.”

You hum, your eyes immediately darting to scan the bar and there she was, leaning against it while sipping on what looked like whiskey while a girl was practically throwing herself at her. Ellie glances at you and smirks before downing her drink and pulling the chatty girl in for a kiss, shutting her up. You roll your eyes and walk towards the restroom, you could feel the sweat from earlier still on your face, only now it was dry and made you feel gross.

Looking in the mirror, your mascara is a little smeared and your eyeliner almost completely off, then you splash the cold water over your face. Refreshing, the icy water waking you up and making you forget all about the redhead but then, you feel strong hands wrap around your waist.

“You looked pretty good up there,” a raspy, smooth voice whispers against your ear.

You reach for a paper towel and wipe your face before pushing the hands off your waist, “Yeah? I did didn’t I, well, I at least looked good enough for you to be hangin’ all over some girl, right?” You scoff.

“Ohh, someone’s jealous,” Ellie smirks.

“I’m not jealous,” you trail off, you were jealous and it was getting harder to hide. You were never to fond of sharing but you knew that Ellie wasn’t yours, even after all the times you’ve hooked up.

“Mhm and my eyes aren’t green,” she laughs, “Just admit it, you’re jealous,” her hands rub against your sides and her neck is buried in your neck.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around her slim neck, skilfully reeling her in, bringing her body closer to yours. The heat warming you up, almost like you had been drinking, Ellie’s chest pressed firmly against yours, her lips trailing down from your neck to your collarbones.

“See? Knew you wanted this too,” Ellie’s big mouth says, making your mind fill with frustration, god, she really just wouldn’t shut up, huh?

You’ve had it, you wrap your hands around her waist and push her up against the sink, her eyes filled with surprise but a small smirk still playing on her pretty pink lips, taunting you.

You shove your hand past her belt and into her jeans, fuck, “Aww, so wet f’me, pretty girl?”

Ellie’s face erupts into a blush, you can tell she’s never been treated like this before, “N-no..”

“Aw, don’t lie to me,” you smile against her neck, she’s trying her best to bite back her whimpers as your masterful fingers work at her clit, making her legs tremble a little, she’s really sensitive tonight.

“‘M not, fuck,” she accidentally lets out a pretty loud moan, the blaring music outside covering it, “Y/n, ‘s not do this here, w-what if someone sees?”

Her eyes dart to the unlocked door, “Ha, what’s wrong Williams, scared someone’s see the big bad bassist meltin’ under my touch,” you emphasize your sentence by nudging her clit with your knuckle as you make your way to her pretty hole.

She whimpers and her thighs shut around your hand, “N-no..”

“Good girl,” you whisper into her ear as your fingers make their way into her sopping wet hole, making her bite into your neck and whimper.

“Y/n, s’ too much,” she whimpers, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck, her body’s betraying her body, you can feel how her greedy hole is sucking your fingers in, she’s been looking forward to this all night, you’re the one smirking now, “Yeah? I can feel how bad you’ve wanted this.. so fuckin’ greedy,” you giggle.

Ellie’s face is now red, “Fuck you.”

The smirk is wiped off your face as your free hand wraps itself around her pretty long neck as the tips of your fingers press into the side of her neck, being careful of not crushing her throat, “Wanna say that again?”

Ellie clenches around your fingers at the feeling of you squeezing, “N-no, ‘m sorry.”

You smile, “Hm, good girl,” you begin to pump your fingers in and out of her pussy, she’s moaning like a whore now, forgetting all about her ‘big bad bassist’ persona and letting herself melt into your touch, “You deserve a treat, don’t ya think, Els?”

She nods feverishly, you peck her on the cheek and sit her up on the sink, “Take your pants off f’me,” she nods and hurriedly takes her pants off, almost forgetting to take off her belt.

You get on your knees and gently spread her legs, her pretty green eyes boring into yours, pleading for you to touch her. Instead of going straight for her pretty cunt, you gently kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly making your way up.

Ellie grumbles and wraps her hands into your hair, she tries to pull your head closer to her neglected pussy.

“Uh uh,” you shake your head, “Not yet, remember all the times you teased me, hm? This is what you get.”

Ellie whimpers like a dog that just kicked, “‘M sorry, jus-just need you.”

You giggle, enjoying how pathetic she’s acting, “Maybe if you beg, I’ll be more generous.”

Ellie’s eyes are conflicted, then suddenly, they are filled with lust, “P-please! I’ll do anything, please, jus wanna feel good.”

You stand up, your finger lifting her chin up so her eyes would meet yours, “Okay, but if I do this, you gotta do somethin’ f’me, alright?”

She smiles and nods, “Y-yeah, of course, anythin—.”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already on your knees, pumping your fingers back into her greedy hole and your tongue was working at her clit.

Ellie covers her mouth, her legs wrapping themself around her head, locking you in place, “S’good.”

Ellie taste so sweet, it’s making your own cunt needy so your hands work their way into your panties and rub circles against your needy clit, your whimpers vibrating against Ellie’s, causing her to arch her back and pull your head in closer to her, then, before you knew it.. your face was covered in her slick and her legs had gone slack.

“That good, huh,” you stand up and smirk at her.

“S-shut up,” she rolls her eyes and gets off the sink, pulling her pants up and buckling her belt.

“H-hey, not so fast, Williams, you still owe me,” she smirks as you pull he in by her belt, her lips about to meet yours when you’re interrupted.

“Hey, Y/n—,” your eyes dart to the door, oh shit, “ W-what the fuck?”

It’s Abby and, shit, she looks pissed. She shuts the door and makes her way to Ellie who’s smirking and leaning against a stall, “Of course, Williams, of course, you’d do something like this.”

Ellie smirks and looks at the blonde, “Jealous, Anderson, huh? Some leader you are, can’t even keep your lead singer away from me.”

Abby’s eyes look like they’re only seeing red, she’s about to swing, her fist is clenched, and one foot drawn back to take one forward.

You step in front of her before she can do anything rash, your hands on her bicep, Ellie’s eyes narrow in on your hands, “Come on, Abs, just go.”

Abby scoffs when she looks at you, “God, you can’t be this fuckin’ stupid, Y/n, she’s using you, not like that’d be the first time.”

Ellie scoffs, what did that mean? But before she could say anything, you blurt out, “No, she’s not, Abs, we’re just hooking up,” you blush.

“Mhm, bet you are ‘just hooking up’,” she scoffs, obviously, she doesn’t believe you.

“We are!” you yell, as Abby leaves the bathroom but not before turning around and saying, “We’ll talk about this later,” her blue eyes dart towards Ellie who’s still smirking.

The door shuts, if it weren’t for they music still pumping out there, the bathroom would’ve been dead silent, then, Ellie’s laugh echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck, did you see her face?” she laughs, her arm wrapping around you, “Fuck, that was hilarious!”

You don’t join in her laughter, you shrug yourself out from underneath her arm.

“What’s wrong, don’t tell me what she said got to you?” Ellie’s voice is still lingering with laughter.

“What she said, what does that mean? ‘Not like that’d be the first time.’”

Ellie’s smile falters, “I-It’s nothin’, she’s just tryin’ to get to you,” her hands wrap around your waist as she try’s to pull you in.

You push her off, “Didn’t sound like nothing?”

She groans and leans against the sink, “Fuck, you’re acting like we aren’t ‘just hooking up,’ why would you give a fuck about my past, huh? ‘Sides if you’re so worried, why don’t you ask your drummer?” She rolls her eyes.

“Maybe, I will,” and with that you leave the bathroom and look for Abby.

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taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101 @elliecoochieeater @sevyscoven

#ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie angst

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

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Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

187 notes · View notes

shalotttower · 1 year ago

Text

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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hazelsmirrorball · 1 year ago

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Rockstar girlfriend II. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other. Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Heavy makeout session, smoking. English isn’t my main language a/n: Wrote this in class so I hope you gusy enjoy! Plus I’m really grateful on all the love you gave to the last one

part one. part three. part four. part five

Heart throb and Rock sensation, Hazel Callahan from the band ‘The Bottoms’ was caught making out with a C list celebrity.

Every press was good press or at least that was something her manager tried to convince her that being associated with Hazel Callahan was a good thing for her career. She wanted to agree but seeing the picture stare back at her with that damn headline made her go insane. She couldn’t believe it was even possible to be more pissed off at Hazel Callahan, more than she once was. Hazel got praised for the things she did. Rock sensation and Heart Throb and what did Y/n get? C list celebrity? Was this some type of cruel joke? Did Hazel personally know the writer of the article? Was she fucking them? Either way she was on the editors good side and also on the press good side.

The picture had gotten a lot of attention, like a LOT of attention. The publicity stunt had done its job spreading like wildfire. Hazel’s ring covered hands gripping onto her ass while Y/n moaned into the kiss. Hazel white tank tops rose up whilst Y/n’s skirt was almost at her stomach. Both of the girls' hair was a mess and both of them look like they enjoy the kiss.

The picture haunted Y/n’s head, there was evidence that she was melting into her biggest enemy's touch. Everything was a constant reminder of that. Instead of Y/n falling asleep pissed out of her mind because of some random shit Hazel did now she found herself falling asleep flustered. The only thought running through her head was Hazel's hands running all over her body and her sweet kisses. She had heard through other celebrities that Hazel was a good kisser but never would it cross her mind that she was going to test that theory. When Y/n tried writing a song she would find herself unconsciously trying to find words that rhyme with Hazel. If the lingering touch wasn’t enough all Y/n could see was the damn picture of them making out. In very elaborate almost pornographic fan edits, news articles and magazines, t-shirts, everywhere. Even Brittney went to the point of making that picture her wallpaper to mess with her.

Things were different now, not a good different, but different. She still despised Hazel; the only thing that had changed was the kiss between the two and the fact that people now knew that they didn’t hate each other. So their PR team was actually onto something because song streams from both sides were upping by the minute. Gaining followers left to right, both fandoms trying to uncover which song was dedicated for who. Every drama reporter and Late Night show host tried contacting their management team just to get the scoop on what was happening between the two. So management made it their mission to ride that heat of the moment.

That’s how Y/n, Isabel and Brittney found themselves backstage in The Bottoms concert. Management wanted people to link Hazel with Y/n as the “Rock Star girlfriend” so after fighting for her manager for what felt like hours she found herself pushing past people to find Hazel. Her management team wanted fans to see Y/n wearing something that belonged to Hazel, so they would think they were a couple.

Y/n looked at the door in front of her, Hazel name written in her messy writing on a small whiteboard. Her hand reached towards the door handle, slowly opened the door to the dressing room. Y/n instantly scrunched up her nose as the smell of cigarettes overtook her nostrils. She looked around the dark room in front of her furrowing her eyes. The room was filled with half empty beer bottles, pizza boxes, several cigarette budds, dirty shirts and other things she couldn’t even understand what they were. They had only been here for a day, how was it possible for her to make such a mess.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your favorite girl?” A voice spoke, making Y/n turn towards the couch watching how Hazel inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. Hazel leaned back comfortably onto the leather couch, her leather covered legs spread open as she looked at her with barely open eyes. Y/n’s eyes followed her lips watching how the smoke slowly escaped her lips. She could feel her face turn red cursing herself for feeling like this in front of her.

“Hello.” Y/n barely managed to get out, not knowing what to say. Usually she would bitch out at Hazel with ease. Going off for hours annoyed at the girl, but now she was a flustered mess, imagining those leather pants rubbing against her thighs.

“L/n? You are usually very vocal? Ever since our little work session you don’t know what to say. My hotness finally caught up to you?” Hazel replied, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray next to her, stubbing it out. She sent a smile her way, running her now available ring-covered hands over her pants slowly. Hazel smirked watching how Y/n’s eyes didn’t leave her hands.

“Shut up” Y/n mumbled, gaining her composure glaring down at her, her anger once again showing up. Hazel let out a chuckle not moving from her place looking at Y/n through her long eyelashes. Y/n noticed the hint of a mischievous look in her eyes. What was she thinking about?

“What? Is my little D lister bitch flustered? Remember this is all professional, L/n. If it weren’t for this stupid contract I wouldn’t let you five feet near me. You are lucky that I even touch you.” Hazel replied tauntingly, sending a smirk her way. Her arms stretched against the backrest of the couch. Y/n lips scrunched up as she furrowed her eyebrows pissed off out of her mind. Y/n moved towards Hazel pulling her towards Y/n by the silver chain that adorned her neck.

“Let me tell you something, Callahan. I don’t want this. If it weren't from my damn manager fighting with me to be here, I would be anywhere but here. So don’t get too cocky, like you said this, this is professional. So you can call me an actress, because your touch didn’t do shit” Y/n gripped on her chain harder as Hazel looked up at her fake shook covering her face. Her hands reached up in a defensive manner while her gaze turned in her usually cocky one.

“They don’t call me a master with my hands just because I’m good with the guitar, sweetheart. I know how to differentiate a fake moan from a real one and what you did wasn't fake.” Hazel reached out towards Y/n pushing a string of her hair behind her ear sending a shiver up her spine. Y/n searched for the words to say but she couldn’t find a word in the dictionary to make a comeback. Hazel hands reached towards her waist pushing Y/n down on her lap.

“You look stressed, why don’t you take a smoke?” Hazel continued reaching for the table next to them, handing her the box of cigarettes. Y/n looked down at the cigarettes in her lap and slowly looked up at Hazel taking in every inch of her.

“I don’t smoke” Y/n replied, looking to the side. Hazel took the box of cigarettes in her hand, taking one out and placing it on her lips. She quickly bucked her hips up still holding onto Y/n with one hand to slip out her lighter. Hazel pushed the end of the lighter against Y/n chin making her look at her.

“You are tense, you need to ease down. So help me out, pretty girl” The said while gripping onto the cigarette on her teeth. Hazel handed the lighter to Y/n waiting for her to light it up. Y/n slowly leaned in, turning the lighter on the flame hitting Hazel’s skin making her glow. Y/n looked at Hazel’s closed eyes, the messy smokey liner surrounding her eyes caused a small smile to form on her lips. Hazel slowly gripped on her waist to make her continue. She slowly lights up the cigarette resting her hand on Hazel’s cheek. Turning off the lighter and placing it on the table next to her, not breaking eye contact with Hazel.

Hazel closed her eyes inhaling the smoke for a few seconds keeping the smoke inside her mouth. She removed the cigarette slowly searching for Y/n’s eyes leaning towards, her lips hovering Y/n’s lips. Hazel placed the cigarette down on the ashtray slowly placing her thumb in between Y/n’s lips slowly opening them up. Hazel blew out the smoke on to Y/n’s mouth. Y/n closed her eyes, humming from the sensation. Y/n attached their lips together finding herself in the same predicament as a few days ago. Both girls fighting for dominance not wanting to lose the upper hand.

But before Hazel could even do anything else, Y/n’s had moved her lips from hers and latched onto her neck. Y/n left sloppy kisses on Hazel’s neck, she kisses all over trying to find Hazel’s sweet spot. After a few seconds a soft whimper escaped from Hazel’s lips making Y/n smirk into her neck. She worked on that area whilst Hazel bit her lip in an attempt to cover her moans.

“If you aren’t vocal, I’ll stop sweetheart” Y/n replied imitating Hazel's usual tone , blowing against the freshly done hickey. Hazel glared at her, taking her by the neck and pushing her against the couch pinning her down. Y/n looked up at her pissed out of her mind, while Hazel smirked her chain hanging against her face softly hitting her nose.

“Never forget who’s in charge” She replied, letting go of her neck and moving off her heading towards the door.

“Where are you even going?” Y/n asked looking up from the couch. Hazel chuckled turning towards her.

“I’m going to do a show, so don’t miss me too much” and with that Hazel was gone.

Hazel maybe had won the fight but Y/n was going to win the war. The next morning news articles made Y/n wake up in joy. Headliners making her go insane but this time in a good way.

Y/n L/n, popstar sensation, making it known that her bass playing girlfriend is hers.

...

Thank you for reading!

next part

[previous part]

#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #lesbian #wlw #sapphic

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fictionadventurer · 5 months ago

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Figured if I was going to go on the Snow White rant, I needed to actually rewatch the Disney movie.

The opening credits are much more interesting when you know some of the names. The only women who got on the list were Dorothy and Hazel, but it was nice to see their names at least and know who they were.

That book is gorgeous. All the details of the calligraphy and illustrations and binding.

Wow, the Queen is so much creepier than I remember. The fact that using the magic mirror involves summoning a "slave" trapped in the mirror? Don't like that.

That peacock behind her throne, though? Stunning, fantastic, no notes.

I kind of love how the Queen forces Snow White to be a maid, and Snow White just...doesn't care at all. She's just scrubbing a floor and totally fine. Queen's obsessed with Snow White every minute of the day and Snow White doesn't think about her at all.

Sorry, I don't buy the romance at all. I know it's a fairy tale, but one song does not a life-changing romance make. (There was a version of the scene where the prince was going to rejoice over the fact that she loved him, which might have been too much, but it at least would have helped sell it.)

The scene of Snow running through the forest and then collapsing in tears did make me feel for her.

It seems like Snow White and the Queen are from a completely different movie from the dwarfs. They've got this whole high fantasy feud going on, meanwhile these guys are living in a sitcom.

The dwarfs were the best part. Forgot how cute those guys could be.

There was not enough story here. 75% of the running time is them trying to stretch this paper-thin story to feature length. There's a big long cleaning sequence. A big long sequence of the dwarfs figuring out who invaded their cottage. A big long introduction sequence. A big long washing-up sequence. Multiple extended gags involving a fly. All fun to animate, I'm sure, but not at all up to modern pacing standards.

(I'd kind of like to compare this to other escapist '30s musicals--is this kind of structure common for movies where the point is just to show up and escape the Depression for 90 minutes?)

As a kid, I had one of those sing-a-long videos with a bunch of Disney songs, and I did not realize that I had a deep emotional connection to it until "Heigh-Ho" made me instantly happy and the Silly Song unearthed memories I didn't even know I had.

A lot of the other songs kind of stink, ngl. There's a reason the washing-up song is not in the public consciousness.

Kind of out-of-line for Snow White to just show up at their house and treat them like misbehaving children.

The skeleton in the dungeon reaching for the water pitcher? Can't believe the movie went there.

(Then they drew too much attention to it and kind of wrecked it. But wow.)

I like that they give a valid reason that the Queen thought True Love's Kiss wasn't going to be a problem.

But the queen cackling over the fact that Snow White's going to be buried alive? When it comes to showing this movie to children, I'm not hesitating about Snow White as a female role model, I'm hesitating because it's dark.

(But also--why not just poison her? I get that living death/buried alive is a worse fate than just plain death, but if she's not actually dead, how does the Queen count as fairest in the land? Especially since she magically made herself as ugly as possible?)

They carved her name in the coffin! Just like the bed! They finally get to make her a bed and it's to lay her to rest! It's almost enough to make me tear up.

The castle in the clouds makes me think of heaven/resurrection imagery, which ties in interestingly to my take on it.

There is so much potential to flesh out this story in a live-action version. Since you can't fill up the runtime with comedy dwarf antics, there's so much space to flesh out the relationship between the prince and Snow White, and give texture to the feud between the Queen and Snow White, and to dig deep into Snow's sweet character and how it affects the dwarfs, which is why it stinks that they're going for just another Not Like Other Girls update.

#disney #snow white and the seven dwarfs #snow white #fairy tale retellings

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lovepookie · 10 months ago

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₊˚ෆ Honey - k.gb

♡ sypnosis: you’re not really sure why the sight of gyubin’s eyes start to look different one day. they had your cheeks burning when he’d get even so much as a foot away from you despite him being your best friend, and they reminded you so much of honey when the light from the window hit them just right. you’ve slowly come to realize that the big brown eyes that belonged to the exhausting and annoying loser just might be the reason for your fast heart rate too.

♡ genre: fluffy, a hint of angst, fem!reader, bestfriend’s to lovers, college au

♡ 3.7k word count

♡ warnings: light cursing, playfully mean banter & nicknames, kissing, mentions of gordon ramsey and leprechauns, cardiac arrest is mentioned exaggeratingly. please lmk if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: hello beautiful readers, this is the fic for gyubin that won the voting poll!! please look out for more polls in the future, as i have lots of fics in my drafts! hope you like this very delusional piece of writing that i wrote when i realized kim gyubin was infiltrating my bias list. (lowkey wrote this to are you sleeping alone again? by bixby,, 10/10 song) enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

Your breath hitches as you take him in for the up-teenth time that day.

This time, he sat by the window, the golden-hour rays seeping through the clear glass and hitting his side profile just right.

As you stared, you found yourself drawn to his eyes.

They were….interesting.

They bulged out in a way that made them look so big and wonderous.

They were annoyingly endearing, and the way he blinked sent goosebumps down your arms because you felt like they were barely soft closes of the eye—the very idea of him being a living breathing boy made you feel…nervous.

He was kinda perfect.

But in this odd way.

It sent a shiver down your spine when his pencil went between his thick lips, and suddenly the angle of his head resting on his large hands had his brown orbs catching the light coming through the curtains in just the right way.

They were honey.

His eyes were honey.

And you couldn’t comprehend why it had taken you so long to notice.

Maybe it was his goofy awkward stature, or his funny but tantalizing way of teasing and talking that overshadowed it all…

But my, oh my.

Kim Gyubin was a beauty—an actual looker.

And within seconds, his eyes snap over to yours.

Honey.

A smile makes it’s way onto his face, and for a moment, it was just that; a simple smile.

Then, faster than you can blink, the smile streches teasingly and you’re reminded all over again why you hated it so much.

Yet, for some reason, this time…

These cheeky actions don’t sway you out of your trance.

They couldn’t, because the way his large hands lifted in the golden hour warmth and landed at the top of his curly brown hair in the form of a puppy ear swayed your heart more than you were willing to ever admit.

He was sweet—just like honey.

And it was slow; the realization that maybe, just maybe, Kim Gyubin held a honeycomb hexagon place in your heart.

It was soft, and slow and increasingly thicker—larger, more evenly spread out;

These thoughts of Kim Gyubin.

He looked so warm as the sun rays displayed hues of orange and yellow across the expanse of his face.

It was rich and undermining; the feeling that he was oh so real, oh so cute, and oh so…an option.

He was sweet and funny and…and...what exactly were you doing?

His eyes soften as they almost disappear in happiness; brown orbs like the base of the earth you stood on, like the smell of oak in the trees that helped you breathe—just gone in seconds as he let a chuckle leave his lips.

It was an exhilarating feeling; the slow burn of Kim Gyubin—but you somehow knew you’d always end up coming back for more.

Just like honey, the thought of Kim Gyubin slowly penetrated through every fiber of your being; your thoughts learning to love every part of him—just like honey was the feeling.

It had been a painstakingly slow realization; that Kim Gyubin was this sweet.

—

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

After your fun little run-in with your feelings, nothing was the same.

The tall third-piece to you and Gunwook’s friendship trio wasn’t the same to you.

It used to be you three against the world, but you can’t help but fathom what life could be like with Gyubin and you being more than just friends. It sucked so bad and kept you up at night sometimes.

His eyes.

His pretty smile and laugh.

Now the way he’d run over and throw his arm over your shoulders after the professor excused the morning class had your heart in your throat daily.

He did it before Gunwook could in order to use you as his “support beam” as you three walked through the campus halls. It was a race they’d play that just became a normal routine after class.

Everyday, after the class dismissal of course, they’d shoot up out of their chairs with their already packed things and scurry over to you, laughing about as they jammed their large arms and elbows around your neck, seemingly forgetting altogether that you were a very tangible and living being yourself.

It was a game.

A race.

However, what they didn’t understand was that everyday since your little epiphany, you’d so hopelessly wish that Gunwook would get to you first. And truth be told, fate was never really on your side, because for the last few days, Gunwook has been slacking.

So here Gyubin was, arms currently wrapped around your shoulders as he pulls you close into his chest. He laughs out loud freely as he sways you back and forth, and you feel your face go hot.

His laugh was so pretty and, despite hearing it all the time, it sent your heart beating faster than what you could comprehend was normal.

“Haha! I win again! What is that? fourth time in a row this week?” He laughs out, a smiley Gunwook hot on his tail with his backpack slung awkwardly across his shoulders.

Gyubins chest contracts in and out as he catches his breath; moving you to the beat of his heart in the process.

He smells nice, you note.

A little too nice.

“H-hey!-“ You stutter out as you pull away, cheeks pink and looking the most embarrassed you think you’ve ever been in front of the tall duo.

Gyubin stares down at you, smile still in his eyes as he sends you a questioning look.

“I’m sorry! Did I knock into you a little too carelessly?” He asks whilst stepping back.

Your heart skips a beat, and even thought you’re a few steps away now, you can still smell his cologne.

Without ever letting you answer him, Gyubin sends you a playfull look.

“Next time I’ll make sure to run faster and knock you off your feet altogether.” He muses, sending you a wink.

Gunwook just laughs and slings his own arms over Gyubin’s shoulder, putting him in a choke hold and raising him down to your level.

“Yah! Don’t make our Y/n flustered. Look at her cheeks already.” He teases, looking over at you and barely managing to bite back his playful gummy smile.

You can’t help but huff and roll your eyes mindlessly at the pair.

Were you seriously that easy to read?

This wasn’t good.

“Stop messing around. I’ll kill either of you if you knock me down you big fools.” You mutter, packing your things so that you can quickly get out of the two’s presence.

To be more specific; so you could get out of his presence.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see them send eachother a look. It was one of confusion, maybe even a bit of curiousity.

It made you burn inside because wow, you’re doing the exact opposite of what you intended to do and were now drawing attention to yourself and your newly odd behavior. But the boys are quick to move on when you put your backpack on and look over to them with a subtle grin in order to try and sell your supposed unbotheredness.

It seems they buy whatever it is that you’re selling, because Gyubin is quick to laugh as he tries to get out of Gunwook’s tightening grip on him. You start to walk and they follow, Gyubin clad in Gunwooks headlock as they both usher up next to you in the halls and continue their power struggle.

You can’t help but chuckle.

They were cute.

“Fine! Damn-“ Gyubin chimes up, finally giving up on getting out of the big baby’s grip.

This left him to turn his head to you, just for you to realize that you don’t think you’ve ever seen his face this close before.

“Wow- I’ve never seen you from here.” Gyubin teases, big eyes peering up at you.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” You deadpann, just on the verge of flipping him off—you hadn’t done that today and it was already lunch time.

A new record.

Still, Gyubin laughs out, a twinge of pink going up to the apples of his cheeks as his Adam’s apple bobbs up and down.

“Wow, you’re seriously irritated today huh? What happened? Did Ricky not look your way?” He questions, prying at what he believes to be is your crush. He’s got it all wrong though, Ricky’s just a friend that he and Gunwook like to tease you about.

You’re not even sure why.

One day Ricky sat next to you during a lecture and your two bafoons-for-friends had found out about a rumor that said you miraculously seduced the new blonde kid.

For a few semesters, you and Ricky would just mildly conversate but that was about all, yet still, Gyubin and Gunwook wouldn’t live it down.

All you can do is roll your eyes and continue walking, hoping Gyubin would drop the subject altogether.

I like you idiot, not him.

“Wow~ So that’s what it is! Your pretty blonde boy ignored you, huh? What did I tell you about him? I knew he’d hurt you-“

You cut Gyubin off by halting your trudge down the halls.

“Kim Gyubin, what’s it to you?” You counter boldly, face pulled into a frown.

Why was he being so protective?

It stung.

It hurt.

Because you knew it was out of friendliness, not jealousy.

Not because he reciprocated your feelings.

Not at all.

At the sight of your pissed off state, Gunwook is quick to let go of Gyubin, wide eyes of shock watching as you stride off quick without another second to spare.

Gyubin was completely taken aback.

Did Ricky really hurt you?

Did he flirt with you and lead you on like he thought he would?

Why were you so angry?

What was it to Gyubin?

He sighed as he stood up straight, the whole campus practically watching the two big boys in the hall and the interaction they just had with you.

Still, he paid no mind to them.

Where were you off to?

“You need to lay off the questions KimGyu…” Gunwook speaks up, placing a hand on his friends shoulder.

“…and if you’re so worried and like her so much, why don’t you just go after her?” He finishes, gaining a scared and irritated look from Gyubin.

Gyubin knows he’s right.

It was now or never.

“I really hate you right now y’know?” Gyubin utters, then with one swift movement he’s patting Gunwook on the chest and zipping off after you.

Gunwook let’s a laugh slip.

Was today the day his bestfriends finally admitted their undying love for eachother?

“You hate me because I’m right!” Gunwook shouts after Gyubin’s awkwardly trailing figure. He then lets a grin grace his face, pretty eyes curiving, completely unable to contain his gummy smile.

And like clockwork, he’s turning a corner and coming face to face with his own crush.

His eyes soften for a second, completely embarrassed that he ran into her to begin with.

“Oh- I’m- I’m sorry!” He let’s out shyly, hand going to grab her arm as she almost stumbles off of her feet. It was electric, the feeling, and for a second her eyes meet his before they shy away at the same time.

“It’s alright…you’re Gunwook right?” She mumbles out, looking down to his large hand still clad on her arm.

He’s shocked for a moment, completely entranced by the fact his crush knew his name too.

This wasnt a dream?

“Yeah, It’s Park Gunwook. Thank you for remembering…” He says, stars in his eyes as he speaks smoothly. For a moment she laughs, and Gunwook’s smile falters.

Then he realizes he’s still holding her and he very much wants to sink into the floor beneath him.

“Oh- I’m sorry! That’s not mine haha-“ He laughs out, deciding to make a joke of it anyways. She laughs, the prettiest laugh he thinks he’s ever heard, then she brushes her hair away from her face.

And just like that, Gunwook thinks he understands Gyubin.

He thinks he completely gets him now.

—

“Y/n!? Hello?” Gyubin shouts, peaking his head into almost every empty classroom on the level you disappeared on.

Yes it was lunch time, but he wasn’t able to find you in the cafeteria or at the restaurants across the way. The only other idea of where you’d be was a little corner somewhere in an empty classroom.

Sighing because he’d just searched the last empty classroom on that floor, he decides to close the door and lean his back against it as he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought.

Where could you be?

He was all out of options.

After a few seconds of moping about and praying you’d just appear in front of him, his brain suddenly starts to work, and within the next seconds he’s fumbling to take his phone out of his pocket. After successfully fishing it out of his baggy jeans, he opens his phone app and immediately scrolls to find your name.

You were labeled ‘passenger leprechaun🧟‍♀️👩🏻‍🍳🧔🏻‍♀️🧌🛒🫶🏻’ as courtesy of him obtaining his drivers license before you. The leprechaun part was—no not because, you were ‘magically delicious’, your words not his—but because once you once joked that you were his lucky charm due to you landing him free food at restaurants whenever you were together. This name followed by a slew of emojis were things he added overtime because of random moments he cherished with you.

He put a zombie emoji because of the one time he and Gunwook knocked on your door in the middle of a Tuesday night—they had bought cinnamon rolls but, alas, their dorms didn’t have an oven. You answered the door with bed head and mismatched pajamas, completely unaware that you’d be greeted at such a time when the world was to be dead. He called you a zombie. You flipped them both off. Regardless, you allowed them in to wreck your kitchen whilst you slept. You woke up to cinnamon rolls, so it all worked out just fine, Gyubin reasoned.

The chef emoji is actually something completely unrelated to food. Once, you two were in an argument and randomly you had put on this British accent and puffed your chest up to his—which made him blush furiously—then, you proceeded to cuss him out as if you were Gordon Ramsey. “Fuck out of my kitchen! Don’t just stand there you big fucking muffin!” You shouted before snatching the Wii controller from his hands as he bent over in a fit of laughter. He couldn’t even remember what game you two were playing or why you two had fought, he just remembered how hard he laughed. He swore that was the first time his heart skipped a beat.

The bearded woman emoji was because you claimed once that you could grow a better beard than Gunwook. That was all—Gyubin just held so much admiration for you after that because you were so shameless. It made him laugh and get all giddy too. He didn’t really know why at the time.

The troll was because you were ugly. Not really, quite the opposite actually, but he added it to get on your nerves and to convince himself that you were. The shopping cart was because once you three found an abandoned shopping cart and he pushed it around with you inside it at a park. Finally, the hand-heart was added very recently when he found himself staring at how small your hands were compared to his after he had forced you to complete the gesture.

He’d laugh and smile and cheese at a picture of you posing and completing his heart begrudgingly.

He stared at it for hours.

But now that he’s eyeing down the funny face you’re making in your contact photo, his heart is racing in a way that is making him very sure of himself and his next choices.

Without another second to spare, Gyubin is dialing your number, heart beating out of his chest as the receiving end rings—as he waits for you to pick up earnestly.

One ring.

No pick up.

He starts to pace back and forth in the hallway.

Two rings.

No pick up.

His hands go up to his mouth, wondering if he should break his sober streak of two months of not biting his nails.

Three rings.

“What do you want Gyu?”

Your voice suddenly booms through the phone speakers and oh my god Gyubin’s heart feels like it’s moving so fast, he might be going into cardiac arrest.

“Y/n! I- I have to tell you something.” He blurts out, eyes as big as flying saucers because what the fuck, is he really about to do this?

“Go ahead…” You mutter nonchalantly, and he swears he feels even more worried because of your upset tone.

“…should I come find you?” You ask a second later.

“No! I just need to tell you that- I kind of- maybe-“

He hears the absence of people talking on the other side of the line, and wow are you really isolating yourself right now?

Were you really that upset?

Is this truly you and him, alone in different places, left alone to nothing but eachother’s words in a place silent enough to hear a pin drop?

Is he really going to spill his guts right now?

He felt a burn in his throat, and he wished he could eat something to soothe it and unleash whatever it was that was stuck in his airways and preventing him from getting his words out.

Something warm and soft like honey.

Just…something.

He paces towards the end of the hall, readying himself for any outcome.

“Y/n, the truth is, I know we’re friends and I really like that but-“

“Do you want to stop being friends?” You ask, complete defeat in your voice.

“No! I-“ He’s quick to shut you down.

He really doesn’t know what to do, what the fuck was he doing right now!?

“I-…Stupid, I’m in love with-“

Gyubin rounds a corner and before he can finish his sentence, his eyes are locked onto one’s of honey.

Honey.

Smooth, warm, honey-like orbs that’d easily cure him—yet it seems to do quite the opposite.

You start to walk towards him, eyes locked onto him.

And then you stop when the last word drops from his mouth.

“…you.”

You both continue to stare at each other for a bit as you stand quaint and out of breath at the revelation that was Gyubin’s last sentence.

Your hand drops down with your cell phone, but never once do your eyes leave his.

And you hang up.

You hang up the call.

He can hear it go silent.

He can see it all happen.

And he knows you heard what he said.

Stupid, I’m in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

And for a moment, he watches your cheeks burn pink, and a smile raise to your face.

For a moment he’s speechless all over again.

Then before his mind can register it, his legs are moving and he’s walking towards you.

The corners of his lips are rising.

His arm is lowering as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

His pearly whites are on display and suddenly the honey in his eyes disappear because he’s bending over quickly and engulfing you in a hug. Gyubin feels your heart beating just as fast as his, confirming you feel the same.

He was your stupid too.

“Oh my goooood!~ Stupid where were you?” He wines out, very awkward and new to the energy that was just created in the studio.

You laugh and sway his big self back and forth whilst patting his back comfortingly.

“I went to get a coffee and then stop by my apartment…but what was that Gyu? Kim Gyubin what did you say on the phone?” You tease quietly, laughing as your cheeks burned red.

He pulls away quick and shoots a glare your way, grabbing your hand and lacing it with his. For as long as he could, he was going to avoid that question.

His pride would never let him face it.

He was a goner.

“Anyways, your class is in twenty minutes, let’s go find Gunwook-“ He says, trying to change the subject, but his hands interlaced with yours told you everything was different now as he dragged you through the hall.

“Why do we need to find him? Are you in love with him too?”

Gyubin halts his actions, staring off into the abyss as his tongue connects with the expanse of his inner cheek.

You stifle your giggles as it looks like he’s really working out what to do next in that small little brain of his.

So you take him in.

The beauty of his side profile; the sun once again finding homage across his skin. He lets a smile raise to his face and there it goes again; honey crescent eyes turning to stare back at you.

Like wind that blows swiftly across the night, he glances over your features naturally too—it feels like you had been truly seen for the first time.

Maybe he owned a bit more than one hexagon.

Just maybe.

“…I don’t know, is Gunwook my girlfriend?” He says nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow at you with that cute smile on his face.

You blush and cock your head to the side.

“What? Does that make me your girlfriend?” You question.

Gyubin shifts to hold both of your hands and before you can register, he’s leaning in and pecking your lips quick. Your heart feels like it shatters and then is put back together to something even greater.

It was a feeling you never knew you could feel for your best friend.

And Kim Gyubin was at the center of it all.

It felt…sweet.

He pulls away, and before you’re ever able to gather how to react to what just played out, he opens his pretty plush lips one more time.

“I don’t know, does it? Are you my girlfriend?”

And he leans; leans back with a smile as he peers down at you through his lashes, your hands still clasped in his.

The sun catches his eyes again.

And it all makes sense.

Honey.

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

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cherubcameron · 1 month ago

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popstar!reader x ex boyfriend!rafe where she goes on her first tour and hes in the crowd!? (i dont mind where you take this)

- 🎀🥰

Aaaa!! I’m so glad you asked, this is my favorite topic. Lowkey was writing something like this already but this will just be a different version to it. Sorry this took so long, I had a lot going on. I work a lot so it’s hard for me to make time sometimes. Plus I didn’t know what direction to take this. So sorry if it’s butt cheeks. Also I’m using Sabrina’s music cause I love her 🤭 another note, this doesn’t follow the description I made for girly!popstar reader because this came first. So this is yours anon.

Border: @chilumitos

The anticipation was turning your stomach inside out. You were in your fifth city and should have been accustomed to touring by now. But still, this was different. You were back in Kildare, the fresh ocean air hitting your face, as you stared out into the crowd. You were hidden behind curtains. The nerves were rushing through you.

“It’s been a while, huh?”Mike,one of the boys who danced with you asked, you simply nodded your head. It’d been too long actually. You’d made sure that you played in your hometown. Hoping that it would be enough for one blue eyed boy to come out and see you. But you weren’t sure, the music you made didn’t seem like something he would be into.

“Too long.”

This tour so far was taking a lot out of you. You hadn’t anticipated how much of a demand you became. You’d sold out almost every show that you had listed. It was crazy and the magnitude of it, still couldn’t conclude in your brain.

“Congratulations girl. Seems like you brought out a big crowd. You must have been popular.”

Which was further than the truth, but you laughed at his joke anyway.

“You go up in five!” Ricky, one of the tour managers says. “Get into position people!”

“You ready?”

You nodded, the crowd is loud, unexpectedly. You hadn’t known how many people were going to be here. Your heart was racing, but this was your favorite part.

You waited until it was your cue…

Wheezie had been persistent. She’d been there since the beginning of your journey; quite literally. So she had wanted to come out to one of your shows. She’d asked Ward and Rose, they shared worried glances over at Rafe.

“It’s fine.. it’s not like you’re asking me to go.” Rafe says, but Wheezie has a look on her face that says otherwise.

“Why? She’s my ex girlfriend. That’s weird.” Rafe said but deep down he knew he wanted to go. His heart still beat for you, he just didn’t want to admit to that. He would look soft and he hated looking soft.

“I still have hope for the two of you.” Wheeze admits. Rafe rolls eyes but his heart flutters.

“Hope is for suckers.”

She managed to make him come to your show. A big grin on her face, Sarah managed to weasel her way into seeing you as well. The Cameron siblings never got along well. Wheezie getting along separately which each of them. But somehow you managed to bring them all together.

“Introducing.. the one and only.. Y/N L/N.” You ran out on stage, a cute little smile on your face. Rafes heart leaped as he saw you. He couldn’t believe he was seeing you living your dream.

“Oh I leave quite an impression..”

Your eyes spotted Rafe, halfway through the song. Your heart raced, you hadn’t expected this to happen. Never believed in a million years, you would see those bright blue eyes again. You noticed Wheezie and Sarah in the crowd with him. Your heart swelled even more.

The song finishes, your heart racing as you run of to the other side of the stage. You felt awkwardness trying to built a home in you. But you shook it off with a head shake. The next song was one that you made about him. When you were angry and you weren’t sure how he’d take it.

“I won’t give a fuck about you.”

The song began and you had to start singing once more. You were getting the audience pumped up and you could spot Wheezie and Sarah dancing. Rafe had his arms crossed, his jaw ticking. Great.

“I won’t give a fuck about you!” You sang into the mic then turning it to the crowd. They repeated the words as you did so. You spot Sarah singing it into Rafes face and he rolls his eyes. A giggle you can’t hear over the crowd escapes her lips. Wheezie is smiling up at you and you smile back.

“My cute ass bye bye!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you danced along to your music. Thankfully, it looked like it was apart of the show.—What were the odds, Rafe was here, Wheezie and Sarah made sense. But you don’t know how they managed to drag Rafe along with them. You continue on anyway, you had a show to put on. And you were surprised how amp up everyone was. How many of them knew the lyrics to your song.

This felt so surreal, like you couldn’t believe people here still kept up to date with you.

Rafe had always known you were someone meant for a life bigger than you. So this was no surprise, it stung to know that he was inches away from you. But unable to hold you, kiss you, to be with you. You were finally at your final three songs.

He could tell Wheezie and Sarah were having fun. He hated that he was the sore thumb in the situation. His arms were crossed, not because he didn’t want to be here. But because this wasn’t how he expected things to have gone between the two of you. Things had fallen apart so badly and he didn’t think it was irreversible. He had let things hang in the air like it didn’t matter. When it did.

“You know she’s here for a couple of more days until she leaves again..” Sarah says, her eyes still on you, Rafe slowly turns to her.

“How do you know that?”

Sarah only smiles looking up at him.

You had stopped by one of the local coffee shops the next day, tired from night 1 out of the three shows you were going to do at Kildare. You tapped your fingers gently on the table, your eyes staring at the door. Waiting for someone…

Rafe stepped through the threshold, his eyes immediately going to you. Maybe, sometimes relationships can be rekindled.

“Hi…

#rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x reader

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world0fmadness · 4 months ago

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CHAOS HORRIFIC

george russell x death metal vocalist! fisher! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for george with a death metal vocalist partner!

୨୧ basically, you’re the first child of george fisher from cannibal corpse and have your own death metal band in which you’re the vocalist! i need to do more for my fellow metalhead fans <3

♡ view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: make them suffer by cannibal corpse - evisceration plague by cannibal corpse

♡ to say he was terrified to meet your father would be a huge understatement…

୨୧ since you’re his first child, your father is extremely protective of you and soft on you

♡ his hands were shaking on the drive over despite him cracking jokes and trying his best to appear totally calm and confident

୨୧ you try to assure him that your father is literally the sweetest person you know ( aside from george ) and is actually a huge teddy bear ( no but really, he is, look it up )

♡ george just has some trouble believing it because how is a man with the stage name “ corpsegrinder ” and in a band like cannibal corpse supposed to be a teddy bear?

୨୧ the dinner went… well, it went as good as it could! george cracking jokes every now and again to help relieve the tension

♡ as you and george are leaving, your father asks to have a quick word in private with george…

୨୧ he simply tells him to look after you and treat you well <3

♡ if he didn’t… well, let’s just say he told george a list of things he’d do to him and walked him out of the room, george whiter than a sheet of paper

୨୧ it took him spending a christmas with you guys to fully realise that yeah, actually your father is just a teddy bear underneath all of the brutal shit

“ did he like the lego set i got him? i couldn’t tell, love… ” ( your father loved it, obviously… )

♡ when word got out that you two were dating… oh boy, twitter went insane

୨୧ two completely different communities colliding to ask the same question “ what the fuck? ” whilst people who were in both communities were having the time of their lives

♡ your father and your boyfriend having the same name is something you all poke fun at very often <3

୨୧ george is almost always at your concerts!

♡ usually with headphones on because he still isn’t completely used to how loud they are but he’s getting there :,)

୨୧ when you come off stage, you usually have a sore throat and a head rush from head banging, both of which george helps to relive in any way he can whilst praising your performance

♡ when you were 15, your father brought you on stage at one of his concerts to do the vocals for one of the songs, it’s one of your favourite memories from your childhood and luckily there’s a lot of video evidence of it happening

୨୧ when you showed george the videos, he was in shock… you were such a cool teenager… you would’ve absolutely been able to beat his teenage self up so bad…

“ bloody hell, look at you go! you had a deeper voice than me… ” ( you did, you still kind of do and you both find it so funny )

♡ maybe death metal isn’t something in his day to day playlist but he’s so supportive! whenever you’re practicing vocals in the house, he’ll pop into your soundproofed room to check if you need a drink or any ice to soothe your throat

୨୧ or even just coming to admire your for a bit…

♡ you get approval on how brutal a lyric is by showing it to george!

୨୧ if he makes a face whilst reading it then it’s decided to be brutal enough for your song <3 he’s just happy to help, even if it means reading things that make him feel a little sick

♡ you guys very quickly become a fan favourite couple just due to how different you are… a lot of jokes are made but people seriously just love you

୨୧ because you basically ONLY wear combat boots, more often than not, your feet hurt like hell after a day at the paddock with george…

♡ he tries to convince you to wear a different pair of shoes but you don’t budge <3

୨୧ so usually, when you’re home or in his drivers room, he’ll give you the best foot massage known to man

♡ i can see you getting along best with lewis! both of you are musical souls, even if you’re in very different genres…

୨୧ he definitely has major respect for the metal scene and he just thinks you’re such a talented person and always likes listening to you talk about a new project

♡ something you like to do for george is make him custom CDs! you’ll burn songs that you think he’ll like onto it

୨୧ he’s never gotten over it, he thinks it’s literally the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for him and always has at least two of them in his car and drivers room

♡ you probably did some voice work for metalocalypse alongside your father and every year for your birthday, deathklok sends you one of their infamous birthday cakes and a card!

୨୧ george thinks it’s the funniest thing ever and always demands to be the one to take a picture of you holding it up next to the card

“ oh! what card is it this time, love? is that hello kitty? bloody hell… right, let me take a picture ” ( it was my little pony the year before, that one was his favourite )

♡ literally no one can get over how george ended up with someone like you… he dresses so proper and you dress so boyish… his hair is always perfect and your hair is always messy… he’s so polite and you don’t hold back

୨୧ but it just works and you’re so happy with each other

♡ and you know you’ll be happy with each other for a long, long time…

#george russell x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #dating headcanons

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shepherds-of-haven · 11 months ago

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Happy New Year, everyone! I thought it would be fun to do a little retrospective on the game's progress over the last year... Shepherds of Haven has grown so much from the little demo I posted in January 2018, and it continues to steadily build and flourish in so many different and exciting ways! Here's a look at just some of the things we accomplished in 2023!

I added 143,151 words to the game (2.5 main chapters, 8 new character interludes) in 2023: the equivalent of writing the longest Lord of the Rings book in one year! We also broke our huge 1 million word milestone—without including code—meaning Shepherds of Haven is now officially twice as long as War and Peace, and almost as long as the entire 7-book Harry Potter series... and all in a single game!

A lot goes into game creation behind the scenes, including the coordination and creation of visual assets for the game—like character cards, codex entries, maps, portraits, and backgrounds—fun stuff for the fans (like the MC info template we created), and songs for the official soundtrack. As the game creeps slowly and determinedly towards its initial completion, that also means learning new things as a solo developer to prepare for the future, like learning to build an official website, researching business and tax practices, and beginning to think about how to conduct testing, publishing, and marketing down the road. Much of what I enumerate here hasn't been made public yet and will continue to cook in the background for a while, but I'm very proud of the work I've gotten done this year and will be excited to unveil more in the future!

And of course, for even more Shepherds of Haven content, I've added and completed even more stories for our little library on Patreon (which also has sizable word count at this point): The Bridge of Bones (a Trouble and Riel murder mystery), O Happy Dagger (a dark adventure featuring Briony, Chase, and Red), and The Hunt (a wild tale involving Tallys, Halek, Shery, and new kinds of spirits, fey magic, and Elves) were all serial stories completed in 2023, while Some Kind of Virus is a cyberpunk zombie apocalypse AU that will continue to be updated with new chapters monthly.

A full list of the Shepherd short stories and serial novellas (with links) can be viewed here!

I hope you enjoyed this session of Shepherds of Haven Wrapped! Honestly, this doesn't actually cover everything I've been working on, but some things can't be packaged and listed out neatly, or otherwise won't seem very interesting to anyone else but me! 😂 As we inch through Chapter 9 and get more interludes done (only a few more main chapters to go), I'm hopeful that I'll also be able to find time to work on my next novel, but we'll see if the Shepherds schedule ends up ramping up or settling down as we work steadily towards finishing the main story!

One important thing before wrapping up is to acknowledge your guys' role in this wonderful, wild journey. I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you for your invaluable contributions to the development of Shepherds of Haven. Whether you took the time to share links to the game, supported its growth on Discord or Patreon, left encouraging messages or asked interesting questions, reported bugs, or showcased your remarkable works of fanfiction or fanart, I am sincerely thankful for the unwavering support from this amazing community! Your collective efforts have played a pivotal role in shaping the world of the game into what it is today. Words cannot adequately convey my gratitude for your support, and I am truly blessed to have such a passionate community surrounding this project.

As we step into 2024, I am filled with anticipation for the developments awaiting Shepherds of Haven. Big things are on the horizon, and I am so excited to share these experiences with you! Thank you for being an integral part of this journey, and here's to the continued growth of our shared little world. Cheers to 2024—may it be a year filled with creativity, adventure, and joy! 🎊

#Shepherds of Haven #milestone #update #short story #short stories #Patreon #alpha build #alpha preview #year in review #wrapped #recap #2023 #master post #master list #happy new year #long #long post

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tiffanys-aus-and-headcanons · 8 months ago

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Appendix D: Some Pig/One More Final

The first three posts in this series are here.

Undertale was a slightly postmodern children's fantasy movie produced by Jim Henson's Creature Shop in the '80s. Noah Hathaway played the protagonist, Frisk, who went on a long quest to escape from a magical prison inside Mt. Ebott; Frisk's father had thrown them into the mountain, known to be full of monsters, in an attempt to kill them. However, it's suggested that as a human, Frisk is inherently more of a protagonist than a monster can be, and has a vague sort of magical power over them. Toriel's death, which Frisk accidentally causes early in the movie, is commonly listed as a Peak Sad Childhood Moment.

George Orwell wrote The Writing In The Web, a political fable about a cult started by a well-meaning spider. E. B. White wrote Snowball's Farm, a whimsical children's tale about a farm whose animals decide to take over.

Infamously, Emmanuel Goldstein's monologue fills dozens of pages, takes at least three hours to read aloud, and brings the plot of Ayn Rand's 1984 to a screeching halt.

Short story collections and anthologies often keep the same title, author, and spirit, it's just the stories that are swapped out. For example, classic episodes of Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone include A Wonderful Life, The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty, Miracle On 34th Street, and The Sixth Sense. 1983's The Twilight Zone Movie includes segments based on classic episodes Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (directed by John Landis and given anti-war themes), Cocoon, The Poltergeist, and In Search of the Twelve Monkeys (the original starred a young William Shatner). Candle Cove is an episode of Black Mirror.

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen was a 1999 Ben Stiller comedy about a team of low-rent superheroes who theme themselves after public domain characters because they cannot afford licensing fees. The film was well-reviewed, but a box office bomb. It was actually the first film to use Smash Mouth's One Week - the One Week music video is actually cross promotion with League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - and it would remain the film most associated with the song until Dreamworks' Happily N'Ever After hit theaters two years later.

The Amazing Digital Circus was a virtual pet game and toy line that struck when the iron was hot on that niche, before being bought out by Hasbro and rebooted a few times in different forms and mediums. Lauren Faust created a long-running television cartoon of it that was a huge smash hit with fandom culture despite the show's clearly very young target audience. The property's canon is all very light kiddie fare; the scariest thing about The Amazing Digital Circus is that for a brief and touchy stretch of time in the early 2000s, it was owned by the Peoples Temple, which was seriously considering turning it into a recruiting platform.

Your cringe unpublished works that you gave up on were almost certainly swapped around with other people's cringe unpublished works that they gave up on. There's lots of upwards and downwards mobility to the scramble, but not usually that much. Exceptions are very rare - like a beggar suddenly being made king, or a god being reincarnated into an ant - but they do occasionally happen. For example, what you know as the land of Oz exists only in the head of a young Milwaukee stoner, who suddenly came up with the idea for an epic graphic novel one day in the 2010s while sitting on the bus, and spent a couple of years absolutely convinced she would eventually make it. (She cannot draw.) Conversely, L. Frank Baum's children's fantasy series, Enormia, which has been adapted and reimagined many times, most notably as audiences' introduction to color film, exists in your world only as a different Milwaukee stoner's overly elaborate backstory for his jerkoff sessions. This kind of thing is much more the exception than the rule, and even such exceptions are almost always much smaller in scope - an obscure stillborn project getting swapped around with an obscure out-of-print novel, or an obscure direct-to-video z-movie.

The True Detectives forum and its many schismatic spinoffs, all of which are devoted to discussing mystery fiction, host literally thousands of Wind fanfics. Many of the writers - perhaps most of them - have never actually read Wind, just other fanfiction of it; next to none of the fics are worth reading. Most Wind fics reuse the original protagonist, Rorschach, but treat him as a generically relatable blank slate. The most common fic format by far is the "altdunnit", a form of what-if scenario in which the mystery that sets off Wind's plot is different in some way.

Rorschach is held by a substantial portion of the fandom to be an egg (a trans woman who has not realized it yet). Wildbow has never endorsed this interpretation, and it doesn't seem to be much on his radar. In recent years, the trans Rorschach portion of the fandom has grown; they don't tend to look especially kindly on Warn, much of which Wildbow wrote as a response to fans (like those on the True Detectives forum) he felt had been too inclined to take Rorschach's side in Wind. Flame wars over Warn's content were constant throughout its serial publication, and made it easily the rockiest experience of Wildbow's writing career.

Some noteworthy and relevant podcasts include Jonathan Sims' The Dresden Files, the Ranged Touch Network's Scott Pilgrim Made The World, Doof Media's Winding Down (later Warning Down), and the McElroy family's The Adventure Zone (an actual play podcast which has currently had three major campaigns, two anthology series, and various one-shots). Film Reroll is still an actual play podcast that runs the basic setups of movies (and occasionally other media) as short tabletop campaigns; occasionally, their version of a movie will be much closer to ours than it is to the version of the movie in their own universe.

Xenobuddy was an early childhood public access show, originally created for the BBC in the late 1990s but later aired internationally. The title character is a small alien puppet who lives on a futuristic spaceship staffed by children (who speak a vague conlang akin to a dollar store Esperanto). At the end of every episode, it gets lost and is found, usually by (harmlessly) bursting out of one of the children. It was very popular with its target audience and much loathed by parents. Edgy ironic fanart depicting the titular Xenobuddy as some kind of dangerous parasite abounds.

Static is a supernatural slasher franchise created by Wes Craven, with the first film, also simply titled Static, released in 1984. The movies concern a group of gibbering neotenous ogre-fae who wake up in the modern day after a long sleep, incorporate televisions into their bodies, and start eating people by sucking them into hellish pocket dimensions. The Screen-Guts collectively are probably in the top five antagonists most people think of when they think of slasher horror.

Toby Fox's ROSEQUARTZ is especially known for its meta take on video game morality systems. The game has a mission-based structure; throughout it, the player is encouraged to take on a pacifist playstyle, championed by the player character's late mother, the title character. However, the Crystal Gems give the player enough autonomy that you are entirely able to take a much more violent tack; doing so has a rippling effect on the game's writing in countless immersively-integrated ways. If the player goes out of their way to be as murderous as possible - the so-called "genocide route" - the differences from the main route grow much more extreme, and rather than gaining allies, you start to lose them, as the Crystal Gems realize what you're doing and one by one turn against you. If you manage to shatter Garnet - it's the hardest and most iconic fight in the game, Megalovania is playing, her Future Vision gets used for all it's worth - then you use your knife to slash at the cosmos, erasing Earth, Homeworld, and everything else. This, Toby Fox is saying, is apparently all you want out of a video game - another toy to break.

Warner Bros still did Space Jam with Michael Jordan and the Looney Tunes, it's just that the Looney Tunes in question were Mickey Mouse and friends. They also still did a second one with LeBron James, which was, by God, somehow worse. They put Ms. Frizzle in it.

Walt Disney made his squeaky clean reputation on the back of adaptations of things like Rudyard Kipling's adventure novel The Call of Cthulhu, P. L. Travers' Thomas the Tank Engine, and Erich Kästner's feel-good coming-of-age kidnapping tale about the power of perseverance, Lolita, originally done with Hayley Mills and later remade with Lindsay Lohan.

Nabokov's extremely controversial literary classic that has defined the idea of the unreliable narrator is Father's Trap, from the perspective of a man who plots to obtain custody of both of his daughters for nefarious purposes. Most publishers ignored Nabokov's instructions not to depict the twins, Lisa and Lottie, on the cover. Stanley Kubrick and Adrian Lyne have directed mediocre film adaptations, and songwriting team Lerner and Loewe did a musical that was a legendary flop.

The Japanese fashion movement is Gothic Pollyanna, after an otherwise-forgotten series of penny dreadfuls about a cute, cheery, rules-minded young girl who is, despite appearances, an insane criminal. Minor character Bonesaw in Alan Moore's Worm Turns also clearly hearkens back to the Pollyanna stock character.

The DEA was a prime-time soap opera about the ongoing "war on drugs"; it ran for eleven seasons from 1982 to 1993. Its plot focused on federal agents working at the Drug Enforcement Administration office in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and especially partners Hank Schrader and Steve Gomez and their families. It is mostly remembered today for its downer ending (in which the treachery of late-show villain Walter White, or "Heisenberg", gets the leads killed, and he escapes from justice), and for its far-more-acclaimed spinoff series Better Call Saul, which also ran for eleven seasons from 1993 to 2004, functioning as a prequel, midquel, and sequel to The DEA.

Between The DEA and Better Call Saul, Kelsey Grammer played crooked lawyer Saul Goodman for twenty consecutive years of primetime TV, first as featured comic relief and later as a leading man. (He also guest-starred on the mostly-forgotten Mall Cop, establishing that it, too, was set in the world of The DEA and Better Call Saul.) Better Call Saul won more than a dozen Primetime Emmys. Peri Gilpin received several of these for her performance as Kim Wexler.

St. Elsewhere was a film written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan in the late 1990s; it was highly acclaimed and successful, and established Shyamalan in the public eye as a skilled auteur with an affinity for twist endings. The film's final scene reveals that its main setting, St. Eligius Hospital, exists entirely within the imagination of an autistic boy, Tommy Westphall, as he gazes into a snowglobe. The so-called "Tommy Westphall Universe Hypothesis", which posits that this same twist applies to most of fiction due to a network of crossovers, was invented by a Saturday Night Live sketch shortly postdating the film's release, in which an amnesiac Charles McGill (from Better Call Saul) wakes up in St. Eligius, attended to by a cast of characters who are more concerned with their own nonexistence.

After rising to prominence as a writer, storyboarder, and composer for Pendleton Ward's Science Time (where she established the Summer/Jessica relationship that would come to define later seasons), Rebecca Sugar got to make her own cartoon, Henry Ichor. Set in a recently post-apocalyptic but strangely cheerful world, Henry Ichor concerns a young teenage boy who is conscripted as a mech pilot due to his rare and innate ability to link to the powerful Evangelion mecha. (His preferred Evangelion is eventually revealed to be a form of his late mother, the reason he can do this in the first place.) Henry turns out to be a vital asset in protecting humanity from the monstrous "Angels" that frequently threaten it, and is surprisingly emotionally mature for his age. However, the adults around him (especially his father, Gennady) frequently push him too far, especially considering his generally noncombative and pacifistic nature. There is much interpersonal drama and much singing about it, with a very vocally trained cast. After several seasons of slow buildup, the show was forced to suddenly rush to its ending in only a few (infamous) episodes after an arc where Henry had a romance with an Angel in male human form. Henry Ichor The Movie and an ensuing miniseries, End Of Henry Ichor, helped bring the show to a more thematically satisfying conclusion.

Although he has played a creative or consultant role in many animated projects, Alex Hirsch is best known for the one he was actually the showrunner for, Disney Channel's smash hit Sunnydale. Focusing on a small California town constantly plagued by supernatural threats, Sunnydale generally followed a simple monster-of-the-week format, but kept audiences on the hook with teases at a deeper underlying mystery. The show almost didn't get a season two, as Hirsch found working with Disney very tiring, but he was eventually persuaded; season two ran through the rest of Hirsch's ideas at a faster pace, and concluded the show with the leads graduating from Sunnydale High.

For a brief historical moment, Daron Nefcy's show, Ender vs. the Space Bug Army, looked like it would become the successor to Sunnydale, keeping Disney Television Animation prestigious after Sunnydale ended. However, though Ender drew in a big crowd, and lasted almost twice as long as Sunnydale, it was not ultimately as well-received. EvtSBA is a children's space opera, wearing its Starship Troopers (Joss Whedon) inspiration on its sleeve, but also clearly copying some (superficial) notes from Philip Pullman. Set in a future where mankind has come into violent conflict with bug-like aliens, the show follows unbearably smug boy supergenius Ender as he is sent to military school to prepare for interstellar warfare. The show has an extremely cutesy and hyperactive tone; typical filler episodes include the one (generally taken as meta about fandom drama) in which Ender's siblings' futuristic internet arguments prove instrumental to the survival of the human race. Later seasons get a bit more serious, but focus heavily on shipping. The show is infamous for its ending, in which Ender, for his final exam, destroys the Formics' home planet and releases a psychic signal that eradicates the Formic race. Although the show explicitly notes that this includes many individual Formics who we have previously known as sympathetic characters, it is nonetheless played as a happy ending in which a hostile colonial power is defeated. Ender has ended the war; he has beaten the Space Bug Army.

"Meugh-Neigh. 'Meugh' like the cat, 'neigh' like the horse." "Does it mean something?" "No answer; none at all."

Orson Scott Card is an extremely prolific author of speculative fiction. Although it isn't as close to his heart as the Steel Gear series, in which he got to flex his military sci-fi muscles and allegorically retell stories from his faith, he is undoubtedly best known for Ishtar's Curse. Initially a short story and later expanded into a full novel, the plot concerns young Princess Ishtar, or Star, heir to the heathen fairy kingdom of Meugh-Neigh. (In later novels, she changes her name to Bethlehem Diaz, or Beth.) Spoiled and destructive but magically talented, Star is sent to twentieth century Earth so she can develop the wits and the strength of character to be a viable wartime leader for her people - or at least so she can be kept out of the way. After several years of personal growth and magical misadventures with companions she met on Earth, a more grounded Star devises a spell to erase the magic that makes up the bodies of most of her throne's enemies. This plan works, and merges Meugh-Neigh into the Earth as a small and ordinary European country. However, though her subjects are eager to celebrate her for this, Star is devastated when she realizes that she has killed trillions of innocent spirits, and, seeking to atone, she takes on the title of Speaker for the Dead (also the title of the book's first sequel). Although it's frequently ranked highly in lists of fantasy novels of the twentieth century, Ishtar's Curse has received some harsh criticism, with the standard line being that Star is an idealized fantasy of a repentant Hitler figure, and that the text presents excessive justifications for her actions. The story has also been called a reactionary response to Wilde's The Little Mermaid. After more than twenty years, a film adaptation of Ishtar's Curse was released in 2009, starring Dakota Fanning, to mixed reviews. The box office took a further hit due to a boycott campaign, after Card's views on homosexuality (and, relatedly, his membership in the LDS Church) became widely known. In the end, it lost the studio a lot of money.

Hideaki Anno is best known for the classic smash hit anime he made for Studio Gainax, Einstein Goliath Nestorian, a psychologically intense deconstruction of martial arts shonen like Yoshiyuki Tomino's Dragon Ball. Einstein Goliath Nestorian concerns a mystery man known only as Saitama, who finds that he has become dissatisfied with life and alienated from the world after only three years of training have enabled him to easily surpass any physical challenge. The original series is known for its sudden, surreal, and clearly budget-driven ending, although this was quickly alleviated with a similarly surreal but more definitive finale movie. Although many Western anime fans often think of Einstein Goliath Nestorian as pretentious and ultra niche, it was actually a huge mainstream hit in Japan, with a colossal franchise of adaptations, merch, and spinoffs (notably including a series of Retrain films, which began as extremely close shot-for-shot remakes of the original series but wound up spiraling into a very different updated timeline).

Previously most noteworthy for his 2003 visual novel Oreimo, Gen Urobuchi was tapped by Shaft for their extremely successful and acclaimed anime Ohayou Hana!, hailed as a deceptively dark deconstruction of the teen idol genre. The plot concerns a girl, Saionji Mayuri, who leads a double life, being of little note at school, out of costume, but spending much of her time as #1 idol Hana. Her mental stability begins to deteriorate as she realizes that the adults in her life - especially her father, himself a former idol - have groomed her to serve as a drugged and hypnotized propaganda mouthpiece for a shadowy conspiracy. She winds up in the worst of both worlds as her ensuing breakdown, and her handlers' response to it, destroys both of her lives and brings ruin to those she cares about. In addition to the popularity of the actual anime, many of its songs became decontextualized J-Pop hits. The idol anime genre would then receive a glut of edgy lesser imitators, like Love Live: School Idol Project, Cheetah Girls, and magical girl fusion Symphogear. Although the original Ohayou Hana! was a self-contained twelve-episode story, it received a sequel movie shortly thereafter, Ohayou Hana! Rebel!, which ended on a cliffhanger that has still not been resolved over a decade later. The upcoming Ohayou Hana! MK Ultra! is expected to get things back on track. An abridged series originating on 4chan, focusing on cropped screencaps from Ohayou Hana!, called the title character "Miss Ohio", producing the memetic tagline "being Ohio is suffering".

Zack Snyder first came up with the idea for Madoka around 2000, a long time before he'd actually get to make it; he put the project on hold in 2006 to make his adaptation of Worm Turns. He developed the idea with his wife Deborah and a cowriter, Steve Shibuya. Inspired by the Disney Princess phenomenon, as well as Naoko Takeuchi's Pretty Cure (one of the few anime that had already become a hit in the States), Snyder wanted to tell a coherent story about fights between magical girls who could make anything happen, who could make any fantastical world or visual appear. In Snyder's film, we follow Madoka Kaname, a teenager attending a Catholic school in Los Angeles. Madoka and her friends are approached by a strange young woman who goes only by "Mommy", and her animal companion (a CGI-ed up squirrel-cat thing), QB. They offer to make the teens into "magical girls", granting them one wish each in exchange for a life devoted to spiritual warfare. (Another mysterious new girl, Lilly, urges them not to take the deal in the strongest possible terms.) This turns out to be a scam; QB is pitting the magical girls against one another for his own reasons, and in the end, every magical girl and her wish gets corrupted. Despite much of the film's plot being a horrific bloodbath - the MPAA demanded a lot of cuts to get it down to a PG-13 rating - there is a happy ending; Madoka finally makes her own wish and uses it to topple QB's whole system. Madoka isn't often discussed nowadays but it was a major discourse bomb when it came out in 2010, alternately being called misogynistic Orientalist trash and a subversive feminist masterpiece. Snyder, for his part, often notes that QB is intended as an allegory for exploitative forces within the entertainment industry that treat young women as disposable resources with an expiration date; this is already clear to anyone who's watched the film, which is not exactly subtle in its symbolism. He also explains that the film sexualizes the girls in an effort to shame the audience, to get people to understand that they are objectifying the characters in the same way that QB does. The soundtrack's got a really cool ethereal cover of Nine Inch Nails' King Nothing on it, which is probably the most remembered part of the film today.

Selena Gomez became a star by playing Violet Parr on Disney Channel's superhero sitcom The Incredibles. While the show was initially a very throwaway villain-of-the-week affair whose leads had to keep their powers hidden from the public and their caped escapades secret from the government for self-explanatory comes-with-the-genre reasons, it would eventually unfold that the show was set in something of an X-Men-style dystopia where superheroism had been outlawed and supers oppressed by the government as a potential societal fifth column.

Brad Bird directed one of Pixar's most celebrated films, Wizards of Waverly Place; it was Pixar's first film with a predominantly human cast. Disney was hungry for a fantasy property after losing a bidding war for the Luz Noceda rights. It had strong populist anti-eugenic themes, with an elaborate wizarding hierarchy of antagonists who seek to remove the Russo family's magic as part of an effort to curb wizard overpopulation. The sequel came more than a decade later, and wasn't nearly as good.

In addition to Worm Turns, Alan Moore is notable for the heavily metafictional comic Pagemaster, about a boy, Richard, who finds a magical library that contains all stories that have ever been or could ever be told; he becomes lost and imperiled in assorted pieces of historically noteworthy literature (initially ones in the public domain, though later volumes would start using legally safe serial-numbers-filed-off versions of modern stories). The 2003 film, in which Sean Connery played the librarian in one of his last film roles, is widely regarded as a terrible, deeply-toned-down adaptation that didn't grasp the tone or themes of the original story at all; it only covered the first half of the first volume, in which Richard meets "genre spirits" who wish to sort all stories into rigid categories. In a later volume, Pagemaster Millennium, an aged Richard Tyler, who has since taken on the mantle of librarian himself, meets a teenage girl, heavily implied to be Luz Noceda, who has also become lost in the library. She has become corrupted by an eldritch book, or "Necronomicon", written by "the Wrong Author", heavily implied to be the devil (and/or Hugo Astley, an Aleister Crowley caricature from W. Somerset Maugham's The Winged Bull). Flushed with demonic power and enraged by what she's become, a monstrous Luz tears through the library in a blaze of hellfire, seeking to destroy all of literature and the world. It is only through the intervention of the Fat Controller - heavily implied to be God - that Luz is defeated; he mercifully erases her by hitting her with a train, and laments what she became.

#queued post #the scrambled timeline #I tinkered around with the ordering of these entries so much that I guess this is a scrambled post for the scrambled timeline #credit to hieronymous-botch for the Alex Hirsch's Sunnydale idea #credit to Lorelei for the Orson Scott Card's Steel Gear idea

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braxlrose · 8 months ago

Note

PLEASE MAKE 2005 BILL HCS 🙏🏻🙇🏻‍♀️

I based this on the song Ich Bin Nich' Ich from their Schrei album so I hope you enjoy!

content warnings: bill being sad? 😭 lots of angst yk (which if you've been here for a while you'd know I actually LOVE writing angst) idk if this is considered toxic bc the way I've written it, it's very much filled with codependency to like a point where without a person youre suffering so 😬.

summary: bill misses you more than anything right now.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: for this fanfic, you're dating Bill at the time and have been for a little while, and it's set in like 2004/2005. I decided to do this bc Ich Bin Nich' Ich is literally my favorite song from Schrei sooo I can't wait to write this. I'm not sure if anybody else has done this so if they have please tell me! also, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list 💖💖

+ this is from bills perspective

Ich Bin Nich' Ich

meine augen schaun mich müde an und finden keinen trost

I laid down in my bed, my head pounding achingly from tonight's show. Sweat dripped down my forehead and rolled onto my pillow as I turned over. My shallow breathing was catching up to me and my eyes closed ever-so lightly. The cold pillow was a perfect embrace after the show tonight. Well—almost perfect.

My heart twinged with sadness as you came into my head. You always sat in the back of my head like a lingering melody, haunting and sweet. My mind never was able to get fully rid of you, especially now since we're on tour. Your soft and supple hands always seemed to fit perfectly in mine. You're glistening eyes, staring back at me and that enchanting smile that sat flawlessly upon your face. Nothing could ever pull me away from staring at you when we were together. Everything about you always made me feel like we were destined to be brought together, we fit so well with each other and our bodies seemed to always be pulling towards each other like magnets.

My fingernails dug into the bed sheets as I closed my eyes to "watch" you. Who cares if I couldn't see you right now, right? I could always close my eyes and watch the way your perfect body; your perfect everything, moved like the water as you glided through the air, running towards me whenever we would see each other again.

That wouldn't be for months, though..

The coldness of my pillow was fading as my body denied itself rest. I couldn't fall asleep with the sound of your angelic voice, whispering in my head. Which was ironic, because that voice was the same one that always helped me fall asleep on my hardest nights. Nothing right now could ever comfort me.. not unless you showed up.

I groaned in annoyance as a soft knock cracked against my door. Who needs to talk to me right now, it's 11 o' clock at night.

I pulled myself up off of my bed; the bedsheets lightly sticking to my skin from the sweat that once dripped from my body. Walking felt like trying to pull myself through quicksand, all I wanted to do was to see you. You see you—no, feel you jump into my arms and press your beautiful lips up against mine.

God, how amazing that would feel right now.

My body finally brought itself to the door and my hand slowly pulled it open to see a face I had known for quite some time.

"Tom?" I mumbled out, pressed my face into the tinted wall, "What are you doing up here?" I asked, my breath feeling heavy again.

"We're going to a party, are you coming or are you going to coop yourself up in your room again, for the nth time in a row." He spouted at me.

I rolled my eyes before telling him I'd be staying in my room again. He may have seemed a little agitated about that, but from the way he was looking at me, I think he could tell what was wrong. He always knew what was wrong.

"It's always obvious, your eyes tell us everything, Bill.." He would say to me every once in a while when I felt down. I guess I was never the one who was good at hiding my feelings, especially from my brother.

ich kann mich nich' mehr mit ansehen—bin ich los

alles was hier mal war—kann ich nich' mehr in mir finden

I forced myself into the bathroom, my hands gripping onto the sink in front of me as my eyes hesitated to look myself in the face. I'm sure I looked awful. Ever since I met you, I never felt like myself without you. You brought the me out of me. That's what I loved about you so much.

My eye makeup was smeared a bit and some of my mascara had run down my cheeks. I honestly looked like a mess. I blinked in the mirror, watching myself crumble. I needed you so badly. This was one of the hard nights, the hard nights when I really needed you.

The water i splashed upon my face dripped down my neck as my eyes slowly came upwards to look myself in the face.

I could never seem to see myself when you weren't with me, you always made me feel so much better. About everything and anything. I'm still not sure how you did it..

alles weg—wie im wahn, seh ich mich immer mehr verschwinden

My freshly dried face from a cotton towel felt stiff as tears rolled down my cheeks. My eyes stung with a fiery intensity that only someone as gracious and wonderful as you.

My body didn't seem like my own anymore as I crashed down against the soft, recently sweaty bed. Makeup smeared on the pillow as my cheek rested against it, staring over at the dimly lit; slightly sparky (?) lamp next to me. The curtains surrounding my room seemed to understand my awful being right now as I could feel more tears threatening to spill over my waterline, down my face.

I could almost swear this was an out of body experience, maybe I was just tired. Everything around me felt like a dream and I could feel myself slipping away. My body, my dreams, my everything. Nothing felt real anymore. Not when I'm away from you.

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

und das was jetzt noch von mir übrig ist...

My breath was caught in my throat as more memories of you poured into my head.

××× I remember the first time I saw you—

Walking outside the studio while everybody else finished up inside, the cold wind blowing in my face, brushing my hardened bangs to the side. My teeth lightly chattered as you flowed by me. I could swear you were an angel.

From your angelic face, to your scent. You were absolutely perfect and I was infatuated with you. I remember thinking someone like you would never go for someone like me.. right?

How happy I was when I figured out I was wrong.

From the way you held yourself to your laughter to your strength. You were everything I was looking for and more. How could I stumble upon love so quickly? How was I so lucky to have you enthralled with me.

You had never even heard of my band yet, you weren't a crazy, obsessed fan girl. You weren't someone looking for a one night stand or someone who wanted fame by association. You were so beautiful and real and absolutely raw. I still don't understand sometimes why you chose me, but I'm so glad you did.

×××

but here... without you. I feel as though I've lost a part of me. Like I'm not me when I'm not with you. I don't feel whole and I don't think I will until we've been reunited.

××× you're bright red, slushy red tongue seemed to gawk at my blue one as we laughed. I laid my around around you as we walked through the park. I finally had a day off from rehearsing and playing live shows, to hang out with you.

I swear my heart was going to explode out of my chest just from staring down into your beautiful eyes. The way you were staring up at me—i don't think I had ever loved somebody so much. You were my true "everything".

××× your warm breath, slowly yet calmly blowing against my neck as you fell into a deep slumber was probably one of the most relaxing things I could ever dream of. My arms were wrapped around you as the TV quietly played in the background. My body had never felt so amazing. And now with you—you just made everything so much better.

My hands glided into your hair as you snuggled closer into me. With the warm air surrounding us and the soft hum of the noise around us. Everything seemed absolutely perfect.

How could I live without you?

will ich nich' sein

draußen hängt der himmel schief

und an der Wand dein abschiedsbrief

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

I slowly closed my eyes, my body finally relaxing. Ever-so slightly, at least. We'd be together again soon, I'm not sure why tonight was so hard for me, to be without you.. but I cannot wait to see your sparkling beauty staring back at me when we come together again. I don't feel like myself right now, but hopefully with time, you will bring that back to me...

sorry this isn't longer 😭 I hope you guys enjoyed this though! also here are the English translations for the lyrics. They're pretty accurate, but some stuff may be a little off 😞

translations:

one: My eyes show off all of my sadness, and find no comfort here.

two: I can't face myself anymore, I'm not me.

three: Everything that was here, I cannot find myself inside me.

four: Swept away like a dream, I see myself vanish more and more.

five: I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, i'm all alone.

six: And everything that is still left of me.

seven: I don't want to be outside the heavens hang a slope and on the wall your farewell note. I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, I'm alone.

also this isn't proofread, so if there are any mistakes sorry!!

taglist: none yet

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fanfic #2005 bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz angst #tokio hotel fanfics #tokio hotel angst

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arctichotch · 4 months ago

Text

the cod boys at the eras tour ✨

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

this man might actually be more excited for the show than you are.

he’s made his own friendship bracelets, handed some out on base. he would never mention it, but he saw ghost wearing his while training rookies.

a dedicated swiftie, knows the setlist off by heart. makes a list of surprise songs he wants.

only listened to taylor for you, but fell in love with her. wants to buy the poster from your show.

maybe tears up a little seeing how happy it makes you and loves that you guys can share this together.

beyond fascinated at the pyro during bad blood. maybe you shouldn’t tell him about the picture you sent to ghost of johnny eying up all the fire.

won’t take any mocking that he’s a taylor swift fan. that’s his singer and he will defend her to the death (not literally but close enough)

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

less into her and more reluctant to attend the show with you. doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go with a friend instead of him. he doesn’t think he’d fit in.

definitely the tall ass boyfriend who blocks people’s view and feels bad about it.

allows you to jazz up a balaclava of his for the show. he normally wouldn’t wear one in public, but he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable in a crowd of thousands, especially with his scars. doesn’t want to scare kids (:()

listens to you talk for hours about taylor swift. anytime you guys are driving together, she’s playing.

wouldn’t consider himself a swiftie, but he knows his stuff. you saw him swaying at times and vibing to shake it off at the show.

you love any reference to ghosts in her songs, even though they’re mostly extremely depressing, because that’s your man!!!!

one of the best nights of his life, but he’d never admit that.

thinks the tortured poets department is one of the best albums ever made. listens to it constantly when he’s away from you.

John Price:

this dude is old!!! he’s not really that old, but acts a lot older than he is! so he honestly doesn’t have a clue who this “taylor swift” is when you two first get together.

boy, does he know her now.

honestly, a swiftie. he can’t deny it. she has some bangers.

cheered you on when you were in the ticketmaster battle to get tickets, not letting on that he was also in the queue on base with his own code. ended up surprising you with the tickets after your attempts failed. will never forget the look on your face.

(he definitely also had selfish reasons trying to get tickets. he just has to go!)

loves it. i mean he doesn’t look like he’s in the eras tour spirit but inside he’s feeling it. looks like someone’s grumpy scary dad, but also knows a solid 80% of the words.

he was big into rock and metal type bands when he was younger. went to tons of shows as a teenager before enlisting. this was his favourite he’s ever seen.

can’t stop admiring the technical aspects. finds it all fascinating. thinks he could’ve been a roadie in another life.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

now this man has been a swiftie since before you two got together. teardrops on my guitar was his jam in secondary school.

glad he can be open with you about how much he enjoys taylor swift when you are together.

you both compiled a comprehensive list when trying to get tickets. with who was going to try for what shows, budgets, codes, dates, times. it reminded him of a mission brief. almost with the same stakes.

you ended up getting tickets for 3 shows across the UK.

had the best time at all of them. would go another 18 times if he could. kept noticing things at each show that he hadn’t seen before and you both kept pointing different cool things out to each other.

definitely one of the best summers of his life, and he got to do it with the love of his life by his side.

cried when the kids got brought up for the 22 hat.

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upslapmeal · 1 year ago

Text

Notes from the Taskmaster 16x10 recording

The last two episode recordings I went to, I meant to make comprehensive notes when I got home afterwards that I would be able to look back at and post when the episode aired. I did not, in fact, end up doing that. So this time I was determined to have lots of notes, and made them on the go in the breaks in recording. However. They were made in a rush and I never went back through them to pad them out (you'd really think I would have learned by now). So instead of just having to rely on my memory, I ended up with an almost coded list of words and phrases that it's taken me pretty much 2 weeks to sit down and decipher lol. So with that said:

the pre-episode Greg-Alex entertainment was Greg getting Alex to sing a song about a recent news story to the tune of a song suggested by the audience - in this case it was Trump's lawsuit (the one in May 2023 since there are...a few) to the tune of Wuthering Heights

Alex really went for the whole live thing, and was constantly referring to it throughout the episode

when the contestants came onstage, I obviously first saw Sam in his bright colours and blond hair

we were right on the back balcony and my first impression from that distance was that he kinda looked like Jamie Laing lol

Greg made a passing comment about how he's been dressing in grey but I was completely taken by surprise when the vt rolled and he looked completely different!

I had assumed he'd actually buzzed his hair and didn't realise it was a wig until the ep aired

Sue made comments throughout the episode about how Sam looked like Dahmer

Lucy's prize task story, unsurprisingly, went on for ages and included a whole story about the holiday they went on that I tragically cannot remember

I was so glad they didn't cut 'untaffled' because I looked through my notes before again before watching the episode and couldn't for the life of me remember what she'd said

Greg's said that his immediate response to naked Alex in the prize task was that he was 'smooth like an eel'

After Julian's prize task there was a discussion about how people wanted to be buried, and at one point (I wish I could remember the conversation leading up to this) either Greg or Alex said they would be buried 'together forever in the Victoria monument'

There was a whole long debate about whether Sam intended to use nature as part of his doughnut task, and whether the bird toppling Ms Doughnut to her death should be counted

Greg told Sam to 'convince me to give you 3 points'

Sam went on talking about how amazing nature is and how we're all connected and at one point said 'consider the statistics.....3000' (I'm 99% sure this is what he said and I didn't just forget the rest of the quote)

Julian's exercise name was absolutely not a one-off, to the point they started running a 'cunt count' for the episode

Sue talked about how she had recently had an ADHD diagnosis, and that she kept viewing tasks holistically rather than paying attention to the details. This was specifically in relation to the exercise where she just did the same thing 4 times

I'm not sure if we saw the full extended version of Hotel Taskmaster, but we definitely saw a cut that included more than the aired version (though tbh I think they do that for most tasks and I just noticed this one bc we got the extended version)

We got an 'I put it to you' from Greg that Alex-as-Qrs looked genuinely cool

Lucy described Alex as having 'tight metallic buns' which Greg later referred to as his 'robot arse'

I cannot stress how much of a breakdown Susan had in the studio about the forks and marbles - you get a glimpse in the episode but that was nothing!

Susan also took AGES to do her throw in the live task - she kept on being about to throw before being interrupted, or saying her arms were too short, or that she needed a wee, or having a fit of giggles, and the longer it went the worse it got lol

Greg and Alex also had a go at it, and Sue wanted another go without the pressure. Greg and Sue got the ball in but Alex didn't

Don't ask me to remember the context, but at one point during the record, Greg told a story about someone he knew (whose name he said he would tell the others backstage) who would have sex in a cow mask and would demand 'LOOK AT ME!!!'. Anyway that was referred back to a few times in the ep

When Sam was given the trophy he just stood near-motionless with it for what felt like ages before we got to the hugs and everything

And now we enter the magical world of ~what on earth was this note referring to~ where I just hope someone else who was there (@politicalprocrastinator how's your memory?) sees this and can fill me in on what I've forgotten:

At some point around the prize / first task I wrote 'correct dog guess'. Whose dog? What was being guessed? Absolutely no idea

At some point there was a joke about the 'former Prime Minister', I think the idea being that by the time the episode aired we'd inevitably have a new PM? but I honestly can't remember

Someone called someone else submissive in a way notable enough for me to have written 'submissive' as a one-word bullet point, but not notable enough for me to actually remember

And now three bullet points which I will present in their original form:

Birthday

Bum hole in back

Get in bath

#posted on reddit so I thought I'd put it here too #taskmaster #ramblings

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onlybeeewrites · 11 months ago

Text

Music of The Night

Requested: sort of :)

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just some fluff

Word count: 1.63 k

Part 3 of the Valley Song Series: Part 1 -> Part 2

Tag list: @v-love @stinkii-boii

It had been a few days since that day at the lake. It was an amazing rest of the day as you and Sejanus spent a whole more underneath that tree, talking. You learned a lot about each other in those few hours as the conversation came almost too easy.

You had learned a lot about Sejanus. He was not just any Capital boy that volunteered to be a Peacekeeper, but he used to be...is...from the Districts too. District 2 to be specific. You learned that his family became stupid rich after the war, bought their way out of District two. Though you had to admit to yourself that it was impressive, to have so much money. To have enough to buy your way into the Capital. You honestly never thought someone could have so much money.

And then he told you about the Capital, how he never really felt right there. That he felt so helpless. Especially with the Hunger Games. His disgust with the inhumane treatment of the tributes. And that was why he was there. To actually make a change, and you watched his eyes light up as he told you his hopes of becoming a medic.

It was then when you had realized that Sejanus Plinth was like no other boy you had ever seen nor spoke to. His words the passion behind them all, the genuine meaning behind his eagerness. Sejanus Plinth was too good for the cruelness of the Capital, of Panem.

And as you told him about yourself, Sejanus thought the same thing of you. You had told Sejanus a similar story that Lucy Gray had told Coriolnaus when they were speaking about thier background.

How you all traveled around the districts performing before the Peacekeepers came. Your parents spoke up along with Lucy Gray's and within minutes they were all shot. Leaving all seven of you orphans.

You, of course, always gave everything to Maude Ivory, your little sister while Lucy Gray kept look out for you.

You told Sejanus about your performances, how they were when Lucy Gray was gone, and how happy you all were to see her come home. You spoke about how you did not quite like the front stage like your sister and cousin. You had much preferred the backup.

Lucy Gray had been trying to get you to be more confident with your voice and performances, you were absolutely lovely after all.

And by the end of the day, while the summer heat was cooling and you all packed up and made your way back to the Seam, you and Sejanus were truly and quickly smitten. Even Maude Ivory was teasing as the Covey and the two peacekeepers split off for the night.

Though now it had been a few days since then, and you haven't seen nor heard much from Sejanus. Though you couldn't blame him since you knew they always were rough on the new peacekeeper. You were sure that he would show up at one of your shows at some point.

However, what you weren't expecting, was a soft few knocks on your old creaky home. You and Lucy Gray were the only ones awake at such a late hour.

You usually couldn't sleep, at least not easily, and Lucy Gray's nightmares from the arena made it difficult for her too. So usually, as of lately, you both would keep each other company until your eyes grew droopy.

You shared a concerned look with Lucy Gray. Who could be here at such an hour? It was late and most of the District would be asleep by now, especially where they lived. The only ones who would be awake would be the peacekeepers that would be out on patrol.

Swallowing nervously, Lucy gray got to her feet and brushed off her skirt before slowly peeking out the door. You watched as her body relax and a grin on her face with what you could see.

Hushed whispers were exchanged, though you couldn't place your finger on it. That was until Lucy Gray nodded, and left the door open just a crack.

"It's for you. Here," she said passing you your mother's old cardigan before shoving you to the door. "Be careful, don't be out too late." she teased.

You looked to your cousin in confusion as you slipped on the old faded cardigan and made your way to the door. "Lucy Gray what are you doing? Its too-" but you stopped in your tracks as you finally see who it was at the door.

"Sejanus..." you said, feeling your face heat up as you softly shut the door behind you. As you look him over, you notice his peacekeeper's uniform, his rifle slung on his shoulder. He must have been on patrol...did he come all this way to see you? The thought of it made your face heat up.

"Y/N.." Sejanus said quietly, softly, shifting where he stood as he was able to finally see you again. Though it took some convincing of Coryo to allow him to sneak off for a little while, it was well worth it to see your beautiful face in the cool moonlight. Just the thought made his stomach flutter.

"I wanted to see you. They've been on our asses about training and patrolling....but I just wanted to see you again. I saw the light in your window and hoped you were awake. I was wondering if you wanted to have a late night picnic with me...if you're not too tired." he asked.

And that's when you noticed the little rucksack he had tucked away. It wasn't much, you couldn't imagine he was able to sneak much out. Unless he had already prepped and stashed it away somewhere. But the thought that he had come all the way out there to ask you to a midnight picnic made your face flush.

"Of course. How can I say no to that? C'mon," You say after a moment, a large grin spreading over your face. You took his larger hand in yours and tugged him off to the meadow.

There was close enough to return home if needed, but still allowed you both to have some privacy.

"How's this?" you asked.

And what a sight it was. The full moon was shining down over the field, reflecting off of the flowers and some dew drops already forming.

Sejanus smiled and nodded, "It's perfect," he said as you two settled down. He placed his rifle off to the side, though still in reach. Just in case. And once you settled he untied he cloth and residing were his mother's cookies. Your eyes widened as you looked up to him.

"How did you mange to get some of these?" You ask excitedly, picking up one of the cookies and taking a deep inhale. "Smells amazing." you say before taking a bite and letting out a satisfied sound. "Hmm...taste amazing too,"

Sejanus laughed as he took a cookie himself, "My Ma made them. She likes to bake, always has. And she likes to send them to me. Reminds me of home." he explained as he took a bite.

Your eyes and expression softened, "Well," you said after chewing, "My compliments to Mrs. Plinth. my favorite baker in all of Panem," you declared.

Sejanus couldn't help but smile, "I'll write to her and let her know she has a fan," he mused before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

The sounds of the nightlife continued to fill the air as the minutes passed. The sound of the wind and soft chirping of the crickets filled most of the silence. Some birds, maybe some owls called out into the late night.

"Thank you for this. It was awfully nice of you," you said after a little while.

Sejanus smiled and nodded, looking over at you. "Of course. I wanted to do something nice. I don't exactly always have the time but....you're worth making time for." he said.

That caused you to flush and glance at him, admiring him in the moonlight as well. The way the silvery beams reflected in his brown eyes, making them almost shining. And the way he was looking at you...damn the way he was looking just made you want to kiss him.

Sejanus swallowed nervously as he stared back at you. The way the moonlight was shining in your eyes and hair, he swore he had never seen someone so beautiful. Slowly he reached up, using his thumb to brush away some crumbs that settled on your lips.

It was now or never.

"Y/N....can I..." Sejanus barely got the words out before you almost too eagerly nodded. He took a nervous breath before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a small sigh as your eyes fluttered closed, slowly wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. The feeling of his lips sent butterflies to your stomach, electricity through your skin as his lips fit rather perfectly against your own.

It had be a dream the way it was all happening. You had never thought that you would feel this kind of emotion again...not after...him at least. But here you were, kissing he cutest boy in all of the Districts.

The two of you pulled back once you felt that burning in your lungs, needing some air. And you did, though you pressed your foreheads together keeping each other close. You looked up adoringly into his eyes before you both started just laughing as you both realized what had happned.

It was almost too perfect as the two of you sat here for a little longer, enjoying your time together, listening to the symphony that played through the trees for you.

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