#this was really a big step out of my comfort zone but I learned so much from this

[cinnamon-flame]

Link! Artfight attack on the wonderful @dragonherder2030 !

that's how the story board looked! Despite the numerous ups and downs I loved making this. It was my dream to make a PMV someday and I think making this for someone who isn't myself helped me find the motivation to stick with the project to the end

[ssavaart]

Scott! I’m an incoming college freshman going in for an art degree. What’s the best advice you can give to a little guy like me?

PS. Thanks for being so inspiring to me! :)

Hi. I don't know if this is the "best advice", but this is what I would tell 18 year old me if I could go back to 1987...

I know you like comic books and you want to be the artist on Spider-Man one day. But... use this time to learn about Art Nouveau and Impressionism and all of the OTHER wonderful kinds of art in the world. Also, I know you love ONLY colored pencils right now. And you're REALLY good at it and you want to make a good impression so you want to use a medium you know best.... BUT... take these 4 years to learn painting. Try new mediums. Experiment. Grow.

Don't look at the next 4 years like you HAVE to get good grades and you HAVE to make good art. Look at the next 4 years as a chance to finally focus ONLY on art and get exposed to other artists and styles and techniques.

Use this time to expand your worldview. Play. Have fun.

Your art can grow SO much if you just step out of your comfort zone and let yourself TRY something new.

That's what I would tell my 18 year old self in 1987 going to the Academy of Art in San Francisco.

I think I would have learned SO much more had I done that.

I hope that helps. And congratulations!

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

[midnightstar-kpopsmut]

Chapter III, Stick it

- I stayed there for a couple of seconds – said Cheongtae -. I didn’t really know what to do after Karina bluntly asked for my help. Maybe it’s not even that, not knowing what to do. Sometimes I am just moody. You know that from the outside I can look like a tall, muscular, confident guy, but I don’t need much to be thrown off guard. I don’t have that kind of fast smart like reaction that other guys have. So a few seconds of that can be quite uncomfortable for me. You know what I mean. I actually think I have many repressed thoughts, like why would I be uncomfortable, like ever? It’s not like I have a knife to my throat if someone says something strange to me, so there must be many memories and fears that arise to me in those kind of moments, or in this moment with Karina.

- He is just stupid – added Jimmy to the recollection of events -, but I didn’t want to say that to him or it would have took him two weeks to finish his story. So I just said in Korean “I feel you, keep going.”, which is very difficult to learn and I can’t teach you now, and he kept going.

I follow Karina on the sofa zone, she is leading me. I told you how the middle of the room is strangely down elevated, you gotta take one or maybe two steps down. That makes me notice that she is barefoot, I had took some slippers at the entrance, but she hasn’t any, not even socks. Barefoot. Not that I care, because I am not into feet, I don’t understand what’s the point of that. I am waiting for someone to explain it to me. Anyway. We get to the middle of all the sofas, I am waiting for us to sit, but instead she turns and faces me. She is distressed. Just a touch, but she is so pretty, so it is easy to notice. She looks at me straight into the eyes and says: - Can you... hide them?

“Hide them? Hide what?” I think. O right, her breasts. That’s what we were talking about just before. - How would I hide them? - I say.

- Can’t we do some shape that would draw the attention away from them?

I shake my head slightly. You can’t draw attention away from tits that just gained two sizes and are stretching out of closely fitted clothes.

She sees that I am not convinced. - Do I need longer extensions? - I look at her and say: - Don’t you have already some on? - No! - she quietly screams by protruding her lips – Those are mine. Who are you confusing me with?!

Like I told you I had not seen her for a few months. I get why she scolds me, I didn’t took it personal, she was looking out for competition. Idols can be so possessive of their look and team.

- The only thing that could hide them, I mean draw attention away, is maybe a bob cut. But I don’t think we can go for that without consulting the rest of your team. Especially Hansuk, I need her approval. - Hansuk is the head of the visual branch of Aespa, added Cheongtae to Jimmy, she coordinates make-up, hair and clothes. Not married, sharp, you should meet her. Jimmy wasn’t interested. So he kept pressing Cheongtae to hear the rest of the story.

- I am NOT getting a bob cut. That is horrid. What is that? The idiots that think they can get away with a bob cut in our industry... Shameful. - She took a step toward me. - Try something else.

I evaluate my options. She has indeed call me for something complex, as I had imagine. At least she doesn’t seem to want to get a real cut right now, just get a feeling of what we can do.

- Shouldn’t we go in another room? - I say -. One with a mirror... A chair?

- Why? - says Karina, concerned – Here it’s ok. You can sit. It’s very comfortable.

She gently sits down on the main sofa, tries to calm herself. I put myself on her right, what else can I do?

- Oppa, you look at us everyday. You see that this is a big... change.

She puts her hands on the air around her tits and moves them, to further highlight what she is talking about.

- Why did you do it if you don’t like them? - I add.

- Oh but I do like them – she replies -, I always wanted them big.

I nod, then realize I am nodding as a reflex, and dare to ask -... Why? Why do you like them?

She gets aggressive: - I don’t know. I feel like guys like them big... Don’t you?

- Sure. - I wasn’t lying. I wouldn’t say it is breast is what I think about first, but still. Big can be nice.

She keeps going: - But my fans... They can be so... limited. I am famous for being savage, powerful. Not cheap.

- I know – I say. She was right. Kpop groups go out with a very defined look in mind. It’s difficult to break out from it, even with different concepts, it is not something you should usually aim for.

She rapidly flutters her eyelashes at me and says: - Do I look... cheap?

- No, you don’t. - I promptly answer. She was as classy and expensive as always. There was just something in her crop top, the fluffy texture, that gave her more of “that kind” of look. And it arguably made her breast look even bigger. As if you had to touch them. A devilish loop. But there was no point to underline that, she would have changed her outfit completely for the comeback.

- I am Karina – she says -, not some stupid whore... - She takes her phone out of her pocket and says: - Let me show you.

She gets on youtube and starts typing and swiping, looking for a specific video. She finally finds it and turns it to me.

- Here, her. - She says while starting the video.

The video is a performance of Kiss of Life on Mnet, dating of the 24th of July. - Stick it. - I say.

Karina pauses the video and gives me a tap on my left leg: - It’s Sticky. Not Stick it. You are such a dog...- She presses play again.

I don’t know Kiss of Life much, but in this performance one of the fourth members was giving much more then the others, in my opinion. She is boldest, more defined and you could say just more... vulgar.

- You are looking at Natty, right? - Says Karina.

- I don’t know their names. – I reply.

- The one with the big tits.

- She has quite a character.

The video goes on, on the refrain you can hear “Sticky, Sticky, Sticky”, the four members all slam their asses, then squat, then rise up and bend forward while turning their head to the camera. But Natty improves on the choreography by keeping her mouth fully open while she shakes her ass. The camera clearly favors her.

Karina stops the video exactly at that point, with Natty wide open in front of my face.

I try to say something: - See, she has a bob cut – she indeed had one -. You look at her face more than her... body.

Karina’s face looks disgusted. - She is such a whore. She will never get it. Kpop is not just about making guys hard.

I agreed. While looking at Natty spreading her legs, looking down, opening her mouth... I am surely not focusing on the song.

Karina notices it: - Even you! Look at you! You are looking at her open mouth.

I try to bring back the discussion to our common interest, her own look: - You don’t need to do that. We can use a big bandana for you. The attention will stay on your face and you will look fierce.

- I am so pissed – says Karina -, you heard that I had to stop see my guy, right? While this slut does this on stage.

I remember that Karina was dating a hot Korean actor that she had met in Milan for some fashion event, she was then spotted in Seoul by paparazzi and had to apologize publicly. I had heard rumors that she was still seeing him, though.

Karina continues: - If I get ANY hate for my boobs... I swear, I’ll kill someone.

She starts swiping again on her phone.

- This was the maximum I was allowed to do on stage.

The new video is a snippet from a performance of Next Level, one of Aespa biggest songs. Karina press play.

In the video, while the aggressive rhythm fills the venue, the four Aespa members bends forward, and Karina gently hits Winter’s ass with her hand,

On her living room Karina follows the video and hums: - Next level wa... - she taps my leg again, while the clip plays for a second time.

Then I don’t know if it is because we are not having a lot of sex with my wife, you often told me I should fuck her more, since she is pretty and all, but you know how it is with her, or because I am tensed with the whole idea of having to do an urgent work for Karina, plus the videos of course... Well, I start to stiffen in my pants.

The second play-through of the video ends, but Karina’s hand stays on my left leg. I can’t really brush her off, that wouldn’t be polite.

- Oppa – she says-, do you think I should get rid of this savage style? Be like Natty, just go... all in?

- You should do whatever you like. - I say, like an idiot.

- Oh, really... - She replies with a tone.

Karina slightly moves her fingers on my inner, left, tight. My dick is slowly and luckily growing to the right. My pants are large, so it stays barely perceptible.

She keeps adding – Maybe if I change my stile once and for all they will let me date. I kind of miss him. He is very, very horny. - She looks in my eyes to see how I react. Then looks at herself and says: - He is always looking at my big tits...

And there it is. At that point I get tired of this whole bullshit. This calling me on the middle of the afternoon to work on her hair, the long list of complaints, the talking to me about her boyfriend... I can’t take it anymore and jump on her.

I grab her small head and enormous mass of hair with my hand and throw my head at her lips. I am not that aggressive usually, but she had really annoyed me. So...

She can barely breath through the kiss, I don’t let her. She aggressively taps my leg with her hand, so I relax the kiss and grab her tits in response.

- Oppa!! - she says like a surprised kid – What are you doing?

Obviously I don’t stop. She is just acting up.

- This is not very professional... Even Jae doesn’t go this fast...

Right, Jae-wook. That’s the name of her actor boyfriend.

I grab Karina’s hand and move it to my now hard dick. She starts to squeeze it through the pants.

- Why are you in such a rush – says Karina-, I thought you needed more time...

- More time for what? - I ask, even though I hopes for her to shut up.

- To cheat on your pretty wife... - she says.

- Oh, fuck off. - I stand up and raise her light body with a finger. Then bend her to the head of the sofa and start pushing against her ass. We are still both clothed.

- I thought you liked my face, all those time you looked at me at your shop... Guess I was wrong!

I remove her cargo pants and underwear in a single movement. Then my own pants.

She is wet enough, and I am not in the mood to waste more time to make it comfortable for her. I grab my dick and push it in.

Now that I am fucking her, she has finally stopped talking. She gracefully arch her back to me, you can see that all the Kpop training is paying off. I should not be doing this, but then again who cares, I am not the first of the team that has fucked one of the idols, as you know this is more common than people can imagine. Their job is hard, and we all need to relax.

She slightly pushes her body against me. Her hips, previously enhanced by the cargo pants, are quite fragile. I grab them with my hands and slam her in response. She squeak.

Feeling my rhythm settling Karina pushes me harder, she wants more of the slams, but I am not ready to give it to her. To make her point she flaunts her thick, dark and long hair. I look at them, they are quite imposing. I have trimmed and reshaped those hair to perfection dozen of times. Watching them moving from behind is quite a spectacle. I stiffen. Karina groans and pushes. It is like fucking a lion. I get even harder.

- Oppa – she says-, you are so big...

I am surely bigger than normal. And I am quite proud of it. - Not only for a Korean – adds Jimmy -, he is bigger than a western guy as well.

I push my fully hardened dick inside her and say: - Isn’t it too big? My wife says it hurts her sometimes...

- Oppa... Your wife doesn’t like your huge dick? - She says while turning her head to me. - How is that possible, I like it so much... - her cunt contracts.

- She says she hits her at the end and it hurts. - I add.

- Then it’s not really cheating... - Karina says, closing her eyes – She can keep your bored, sloppy dick...

She touches my right hand on her waist and adds: - I’ll take the huge horse cock of yours... It goes so well with my big tits...

I instantly bend forward and grab her new big breasts through her soft crop top. I bury my head into her cascade of dark hair. My dick is now swelling in pain. The rhythm through which I slam it inside Karina rapidly intensifies.

- Oppa... You are going too fast... - she says.

I don’t answer and cover her mouth with one of the hands.

She frees herself from it and says: - Be careful... you don’t want to make me pregnant.

- What? - I ask while leaving her tits and putting myself straight up again – You don’t take the pill?

- I don’t take anything! - she says, while still pushing her ass and body against me. - Those shit are not good for your skin. But keep going... Tell me when you are almost there...

We keep pushing for a few more seconds, at that point I am almost done, who wouldn’t and I let her know.

- Wait for me... - says Karina. She pushes me out of her, puts herself on her knees in front of the sofa and grabs my dick with her two hands. - You can finish on my face.

I am almost there. She looks at me with her big, dreamy eyes and says: - Oppa, do you like my... - but then I explode into her face. Which at least makes both her eyes and mouth close shut. She keeps stroking my dick in silence. Her face is covered with my full built up of load.

There is one main river of sperm, the thickest one, that goes through her lips. A second, smaller one, deviates left on her cheek. Multiple other droplets constellate the rest of her face, which she has masterfully bended back to avoid staining her eyes.

Karina keeps her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sperm on her face.

While looking at her I realize that, even through my numerous sexual encounters, I had never seen something so beautiful. It must have been the makeup, or the hair, or whatever else. Strangely enough, I had never had sex with an idol before.

Karina’s face looks like a painting.

That’s when I reach for my pants, specifically for the phone in my pocket. Karina thinks that I want to go and complains cutely. I give a pump of blood to my dick, so that it will look good on the picture. Karina feels it getting bigger into her hands and smile, still with her eyes closed. Resting like a diligent worker on her break.

I take the picture, put my phone away, and rise my pants.

She opens her eyes and throw herself into the couch.

- I should go – I say. Then I notice her horny look on her face and add: – Did you come?

- No, sorry – she says -. I think I need something more. To come, I mean.

- Yes, I get it. - I answer. What else could I have said? I didn’t have anything more than that to give. And it was also getting pretty late. Girls very often cannot get excited by sex alone, they need feelings, something like that. I said to myself that it must be the same for Karina.

I act with care and help her clean her face with a napkin. I am her employee after all. She doesn’t want me or her to go to the toilet to wash up though, strange.

Instead she grabs a soda from her fridge and rushes me off the apartment. Out in the hot city of Seoul.

- That is how Cheongtae told me he got this picture. - Said Jimmy. The American looked at him, wanting to know more.

- What did you say was your name, again? - Added Jimmy.

- Steven – said the American, that we can now call by his name -, my name is Steven, but you can call me Steve.

Jimmy waited for Steve’s question, which arrived after a few seconds: - Can I talk with Cheongtae? I’d really want to know more about his work in Kpop, it would help me for my job here as well.

- Well, that would be nice – said Jimmy -, very nice. Problem is Cheongtae told me this story one week ago, it had just happened, and I can’t get in contact with him since then.

- What do you mean, you can’t get in contact? - Asked Steven.

- What I mean is, that Cheongtae has disappeared. We are quite close. But I don’t know where he is.

At that Steven didn’t had an immediate follow up question. So we will have to wait and see for the next chapter to know more about his own train of thoughts.

[sweetkpopmusings]

hyunjin coworker headcanons <3

a/n: i am determined!!! to finish this series of hcs asap asap asap...so hopefully that happens lol. truly obsessed with the idea of coworker!hyunjin, so i hope you are too :-) pics not mine <3

content: fluff, nonidol!au | wc: 0.9k | warnings: none really! | pairing: coworker!hyunjin x gn!reader | requests: open

office heartthrob!!!

who is a painfully huge dork <3

you learn this immediately. like so quickly that you get whiplash lol

on your first day you witness someone looking absolutely magnificent as they strut through the office

but, right before you can be properly intimidated, he trips on the carpet and acts as though he is having a heart attack even though he catches himself before he falls

who said being dramatic is unprofessional???

not hyunjin that's for sure 

you’re torn between laughing hysterically and asking whether he’s okay, and because of the first-day jitters, your brain manages to construct “you’re funny and okay?”

hyunjin just stares at you, and you’re ready to pack up your things, change your name, and move to a brand new city because why was THAT what i said?! 

then hyunjin cackles, managing to confirm that he’s okay once he wipes the tears from his eyes 

needless to say, 9:30-9:35 a.m. on your first day was quite eventful

from that very first interaction, hyunjin thinks you’re the funniest person on the planet 

the number of times he has fallen out of his chair after you made a joke has convinced the whole office of your comedic genius too :,-)

if hyunjin hears one of y’all’s coworkers repeating your joke, he’ll immediately step in and correct their delivery if it falls flat compared to yours which, in his opinion, it always does

you try to convince him to stop because people could get annoyed, but hyunjin stands firm in the fact that being the most annoying person in the office is worth it because he’s defending your honor :-(

like seriously he’s so dramatic for no reason but it’s his charm <333

it’s lowkey an office tradition for people to buy custom paintings from hyunjin around the holidays

he doesn’t mind the extra cash and he loves getting more practice, especially since people will request things outside his comfort zone

seeing as you’re special and “cooler than everyone else here, except for me, of course,” hyunjin gives you one as a surprise because he’s so thankful to have you at work and in his life <3333

hyunjin practically melts into the floor when he sees how excited you get after unwrapping it :’-)

you obviously display it proudly at your desk for everyone to see and be jealous of

and hyunjin blushes a bit and smiles really big (even if he tries to hide it) every single time he sees the artwork on your desk :,,,-) he’s simultaneously so proud and so honored

trust and believe that any gift you give him will be enshrined on his desk FOREVER

even if it’s a napkin with a drawing from a time you two went to a nearby coffee shop on your break, hyunjin cherishes it more than anything 

he gets it framed so it is protected from “the elements” whatever that means in an office lmao

sometimes he tries to correct you if you’re working on a project together and gets SOOOOO smug and then after fifteen minutes of gloating you look at him and quietly say “hyunjin…”

and he’s standing there like 🤨

when you tell him what the actual answer to the question is,  the man is CRUSHED to find out that he was wrong

almost every time he says, “there goes my dream of being the smartest person in the office”

as soon as you remind him he’s the most stylish and gorgeous person in the office, his pout disappears and he looks at you like 😁and boom! embarrassment at being a little dumb is gone forever

speaking of stylish

hyunjin loooooooooooves shopping with you for work clothes

weather’s changing?? hyunjin has sent you a calendar invite for a post-work shopping trip! work event coming up??? hyunjin has booked a conference room during the workday for you two to plan out your outfits!

he’s down to shop at any store you want, whether it’s high-end or thrifting

even if you can’t find clothes you like, there’s nothing more fun than putting together outfits for each other and cracking up during your fashion shows

any time hyunjin wears an outfit you helped him to create, he mentions it every 5-10 seconds

like so much so that people are coming up to compliment you for your fashion taste 

and you’re just sitting at your desk like ???? thank you ???

it all makes sense when you see hyunjin wearing the sweater vest with teddy bears you begged him to try on

if you’re wearing something he picked out for you, he will walk around to literally everybody and ask, “wow! doesn’t y/n look amazing today?”

he’ll also say to you “whoa! whoever told you to get that has impeccable taste”

you always tease him by saying you can’t remember who you bought it with LOL

he feels so proud to know you that he brags about you all. the. time. 

not just about your fashion–hyunjin thinks absolutely everything about you should be celebrated

there is a y/n fan club at your work and hyunjin is the founder, president, and outreach specialist <333

while he mostly expresses it by teasing you, he thinks you are incredibly smart, talented, kind, funny, beautiful, and perfect in every way

on the morning of your 1-year work anniversary, you find your favorite drink on your desk with a card next to it

in the card is a handwritten letter from hyunjin, outlining all the moments he has loved spending with you over the past year, as well as messages of encouragement and wishes for many more special, shared moments to come 

while you two met because he almost fell flat on his face, hyunjin can’t think of a better thing that has ever happened to him at work because, if he wasn’t so clumsy, he may never have bonded with his favorite person in the world (you <3333)

[genericpuff]

As someone who can't afford to go to animation school n adores your work- are there any advice or tips they taught you could share that transfer to art or comics? I know you talked about learning how to properly reference things which I admit I think I and a lot of other artists struggle with knowing how to do

Ironically enough, as much as I learned that I do NOT have the patience for animating (which is... ironic, considering all the patience that's required to make a comic LMAO) I did still learn a lot from it that I was able to take into comics. Storyboarding was one of the more obvious ones, as storyboards are basically just the "still versions" of an animation before it's been animated, with establishing shots, camera pans, dialogue shots, etc. all of which you'd find utilized in a comic.

Alongside that was learning how to draw consistently. Turnaround sheets are a shared practice in both animation and comics, they're necessary to creating an ongoing project that features the same core cast of characters. Learning how to draw the same characters the exact same way every time in a way that's both consistent and efficient is crucial.

That said, aside from those little starting tips, I do hope that some day you're able to find the means to go to school for animation or whatever it is that you're desiring to go into and learn. Yes, post-secondary schooling is expensive, and there are a lot of risks in pursuing a diploma/degree that can affect your future. That said, as someone who went to a school that literally no longer exists (like fr I don't even know if I can get my transcript anymore so for all I know, the year I spent in animation college only exists in the student loans that I'm still paying off, rip) I still learned and gained so much that I simply wouldn't have in high school or on Youtube. The biggest of which was the environment - being put into an actual dedicated space for learning art, with peers and teachers who were all unified in that space working towards the same goal, made so much more of a difference in my learning than I initially anticipated. I got so much feedback and guidance thanks to my instructors, and it really put me into a space where I was forced to try new things, I couldn't keep relying on the same tricks and comfort zones anymore. If it weren't for my instructors pushing me to step outside of that comfort zone, I never would have learned how to draw from life or use other mediums that subsequently became the foundations of the stuff I make today.

And while a lot of the things they taught I could have learned on Youtube or CTRL+Paint or Draw-a-Box, being in an actual classroom with grades and a schedule to abide by actually kept me moving in a forward direction and gave me so much more help on a personal level than some guy on Youtube could have given me reading from a script or, in this case, some rando on Tumblr responding to anonymous asks LMAO

Obviously, I'm never gonna recommend that anyone put themselves into financial ruin for post-secondary schooling, ESPECIALLY right now with the economy being what it is, but I do hope that if you genuinely want to go to school that you can find the means to do so, whether it's opting for community classes or applying for scholarships/bursaries/grants/etc or even just signing up for a local art class. Do your research on what's available and feasible to you - even art clubs can be super helpful in getting you out there and talking to people! As much as we may all be slaving away over our desks creating our next big piece, art is still a form of community and interpersonal communication - whether it's between you and an audience, or a peer with whom you exchange new ideas and feedback, or a mentor whose skills you hope to inherit and pass on to the next generation.

Until then though, keep creating and keep getting inspired. If you've never drawn from life before, set up a bowl of fruit and draw it as closely as you can to the real thing, or go to the food court and see how quickly you can sketch the people walking by before they're gone. If you've never tried storyboarding before, grab a piece of paper, find a scene from a live action movie you like, and storyboard it as if you were making an animated film. Try things! Fail at it! Try it again! See what happens!

[thetriumphantpanda]

Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter One)

Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.

Chapter Summary | The origin of a cursed Prince and a girl, unwilling to set aside her dreams for a fate already decided on, thrown together with consequences neither of them could have dreamed about.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU)

Chapter Warnings | Descriptions of magic, discussion of arranged marriages/betrothal, people being mean, an obnoxious male figure, what is essentially a kidnapping, talk of food, no use of Y/N, but I believe that to be it.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors Note | You guys simply have no idea how truly excited I am to finally be able to share this with you. This is so out of my comfort zone but holy HELL I've had the best time creating it, and I really hope that you enjoy reading it just as much. Again, just a massive shout out to @cavillscurls for gifting this idea to me and trusting me to bring this to life for her, I really hope I do it justice for you! And another big thank you to @dinsdjrn for casting an eye over this first chapter to make sure it wasn't absolute clown shoes. I'd really love to know what you guys think, so please leave a comment, reblog or pop over to my ask to spread the love. And as always, if you'd like to leave me a tip, you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

He often thinks back, in the depths of the dark nights he spends alone, to the moment that changed everything. He was, once upon a time, happy. Vain, conceited and a pompous asshole, but he was happy. The kingdom, handed to him quite abruptly on the death of his father. The power and the riches which had been rationed to him before, now all his own to do with as he pleased. A palace, full of beautiful things, beautiful people, there was nothing he could have wanted for. There were parties, opulent and extravagant, filled with beautiful women who would fawn over his every word. Days spent hunting, ignoring all his other princely commitments because he could, he made the rules. 

Then, the night that changed it all. He was drunk, he’d had far too much wine, indulged in the lips of far too many women, when one of his servants gripped his arm, dragging him to the doors of the castle. On his step was a haggard old woman, bent double with the hood of a cloak covering her face. She reached out a hand, old and wrinkled, shaking from the cold of the bitter storm that was raging outside and begged. 

“Please, my lord, take pity on an old woman,” She speaks wearily, as if she’d been walking for days, “Just a night’s shelter from the storm, that’s all I seek.” 

“And what do you offer in return?” He scoffs, already knowing what his answer will be, there is no place for this woman in his home. 

The old woman pulls a singular red rose from one of her sleeves, petals full and a deep crimson and extends it towards the prince. He plucks it from her fingers and takes a moment to admire the flower, for it is, after all, a thing of beauty, although he knows it was plucked from his own garden. 

“You insult me,” He mocks, “Offering my own rose, stolen from my garden,” He lets the flower drop to the floor in front of the beggar woman, “You will not find shelter here, now, be gone.” 

He turns on his heel, intent on making it back to his party, to forget this whole intrusion, when he hears the woman behind him start to chuckle. He turns back and watches as she stands, chuckle turning into some kind of sinister laughter as that exterior that had so repulsed him before melted away to reveal someone, something, far more beautiful. The hood of her cloak falls from her head – beautiful tresses of blonde hair and a young, ethereal face stare back at him. 

“You, my prince, have an ugly soul,” She speaks, voice lilting like a song now, “And it is time that you match that.” 

He is aware that the commotion has drawn his guests from the main hall, out to witness what he is about to become, as he is surrounded by the gold tendrils of air that this woman, no, enchantress, has created. He feels the skin on his face tighten and contort, not painfully, but uncomfortably. He can feel his bones cracking as his frame grows, he’d always been bigger in frame than most, but now he was towering over everyone. His hands, once blemish free, are covered in tiny scars as if he’d spent a life fighting with his fists. His clothes, of silk and velvet, torn and destroyed on his body. 

When he can no longer feel the magic at work around his body, he turns away from the enchantress to the faces of the party, who gasp, talk amongst themselves. Some of them scream and then they’re running, as the woman behind him continues her onslaught on his home now. She drapes it in darkness, the opulent gardens are transformed to nothing but weeds and dead plants. The fountains run no more, and the sound of birdsong is gone. Then, when she is satisfied that her work is done, she bends to the discarded rose and offers it to him once more. 

“Any curse can be broken, and this one is no different,” She taunts, “If you can learn to love another, and earn their love in return, by the time the last petal falls, then the spell will be broken, otherwise, you shall remain this beast forever.”

Then, he is all alone, save for his servants, cursed alongside him, though she’d spared them the humiliation of a face covered in scars, and had just cursed them to spend eternity stuck with their master, now bitter, violent and closed off. None of them, not even him, able to leave the grounds of his castle. He falls into despair, spends his days finding another thing he can take his anger out on. He tears down the paintings – ripping through their canvas, punches his fist through every mirror he can find so he doesn’t have to look at himself and steels himself away in those first years. Then, when the first petal drops from the rose, protected in its glass case by one of his servants, he thinks there should be a sense of urgency, but there isn’t, just a daily reminder that this is what his greed and vanity had done to him. If he cannot leave, and no-one knows he or his palace exist any longer, then what hope does he have of someone finding him, let alone falling in love with him? 

For who could truly learn to love a beast? 

The morning is bright, the sun rising above the hills, as you step out, wicker basket hooked into the crook of your elbow, the book perched in the bottom, covered with a cloth to protect it as you make your way into town. The townsfolk are already milling about as you walk the streets. Women are haggling for bread and eggs, men are greeting each other in booming voices and there are children running around, playing with each other as their parents focus on other things. You don’t miss how, when you pass, they stop their conversations, whispering to each other. You know what they say about you, because no-one in this God forsaken town is ever truly quiet. Funny Girl. Oddity. Strange. Dazed and distracted. Away with the fairies. You’d heard it all, and today, like all days, you let it lie, because none of them are wrong. You are an oddity. A girl of your age, unmarried and living alone with her father, despite his recent efforts to marry you off. A girl, nose stuck firmly in a book whenever it possibly could be. A girl, dreaming of better things, a life outside the provincial village you’d always known, although what that looked like you truly didn’t know. 

You buy a loaf of bread and some cheese with the coins your father had pressed into your palm that morning, ensuring that you had everything you needed at home before indulging yourself. The bookshop, at the very end of town, was your sanctuary. Alexander, a firm friend of your father for years, had owned it since before you were born, his father and grandfather before him. He knew that like most folks around here, the price of the books you wanted to read came second to the price of the books your father needed for his work, so there was an understanding between Alexander and yourself that you borrowed yours, bringing them back to swap for a new novel whenever you needed. 

“Ah, good morning,” He greets when you open the door, bell tinkling as it opens and closes, “And how are we this morning?” 

“Fine, thank you,” You smile, offering him the book you’d chosen just yesterday, “I’ve come to return the book I borrowed.” 

He takes it from your hand, setting it on his counter to reshelve later, “You’re going to run out of things to read if you carry on this quickly,” He teases, motioning with his hand to the shelves behind him, “Nothing new since yesterday, but please, I’m sure you can find something to enjoy.” 

You spend a few moments studying the spines in front of you. There are very few here that you haven’t read, and whilst you could choose something new, there is something in your bones that craves the familiar today. A story you know will warm your heart and make you yearn for what you truly desire. 

“I’ll take this one.” You muse simply, pulling it off the shelf to hand to him. 

“This one?” He fakes shock, “You’ve read it twice already.” 

“Well, it’s my favourite,” You chuckle, “Faraway lands, magic, a handsome prince, strong women who can make their own destiny in life.” 

“Well, if you like it that much, why don’t you keep it?” He hands it over to you, laughing at the shock on your face, “Don’t try and argue with me now,” He insists, “I don’t think anyone other than you has ever chosen it, consider it a gift.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, bending down to the old man to give him a kiss on the cheek, sharing a smile as a blush creeps onto his weathered cheeks, “I shall cherish it.” 

You bid him a fond farewell and head back out onto the streets, book clutched in your arms like it was your most treasured possession. It might actually have been just that. You walk back through the crowds, basket still hooked onto your elbow as you zone in on the fountain at the edge of town. Usually reserved for washing, it’s not so crowded yet, the heat of the day still too frigid to consider dipping hands into water, so you perch on the edge, basket between your feet on the ground and open the book, promising yourself you’ll only spend a few moments familiarizing yourself with the story again. 

Of course, that’s a promise you can’t keep to yourself, and you’re rounding onto chapter three when the book in unceremoniously plucked from your hands. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, “Give that back!” 

“I just want to see what could possibly hold your attention for this long.” 

You groan to yourself. Of course. Henry. The object of all of your ire. The man your father wants you to marry. You couldn’t imagine a worse match – whilst he was objectively handsome, all of the young women fawning over him, falling over each other to impress him, he was so stuck up his own ass he could fold himself inside out if he wanted. 

“They’re called books, perhaps you should try reading one sometime?” You speak, trying to grab your book from his hands as he flips through the pages. 

“And end up like you?” He scoffs, throwing it back to you, “You need to get your head out of those pages and into the real world, you’re not getting any younger and soon, people are going to start wondering what’s wrong with you.” 

“Like they don’t already?” You mutter, dusting off the cover and placing it carefully in the basket on the floor. 

“Have you thought anymore about my proposal?” He asks, draping a thick arm across your shoulders as you try and walk away. 

You groan, because his offer of marriage is all you’ve been able to think about. Or more importantly, how to say no without ruining the hard-fought relationships your father had forged with the most powerful family in town. 

“It’s a big decision,” You say simply as you cross the bridge at the end of town, “I promise I’ll have an answer for you in a few days.” 

You manage to slip away from his grip and close the small gate behind you, turning on your heel to jog as fast as possible into your home, all whilst he’s calling out to you. Regrettably, you’re not fast enough to miss the last thing he says before the front door slams. 

“If you say no to me, no-one will have you!” 

You let your head hit the back of the door, sucking in deep breaths to stop yourself from yanking open the door and telling him that nothing in the world would ever be enough to convince you to marry him. 

“He isn’t wrong.” Your father’s voice startles you, your head turning to the door of his study. 

“I beg you, not another word.” You demand, walking in the opposite direction, towards the kitchen. 

“You’ve made him wait almost a week,” Your father’s heavy footsteps are clear behind you, “Any other woman would have fallen to their knees and agreed to the match.” 

“Well, I’m not any other woman,” You huff, unwrapping the bread and cheese to set on the table, “I don’t want to marry him, papa.” 

“Well, I’m afraid, young lady, you don’t have much choice,” He’s folded his arms across his chest, “I have worked too hard to get you under that family’s nose, and I will not let you throw that hard work away.” 

“Is this all I was ever destined to be?” You exclaim, rounding on him, “Like a prize cow to be bartered and bought on the whim of men?” 

“If your mother could see you now,” He mutters, “She would tell you exactly the same as I would.” 

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” You speak softly, “You married each other because you were in love, she wouldn’t want this for me.” 

He tries to embrace you, like he always does when he knows he’s about to force you to do something you don’t want to do, like it will make it better for you, easier for you to say yes. This time, you push him away, stepping towards the open window.

“I can’t keep you here much longer and you know it,” He sighs behind you, “Money is far too tight and if we aren’t careful, we won’t have a home much longer, you marry Henry, our debts are forgiven, you’ll be safe, warm with a home all of your own.” 

“So now I am to be payment for your debts?” You snorted, “Raised only to be worth something to sell,” Your father tries to open his mouth, no doubt to convince you otherwise, but you truly see him for what he is, “I wish to be alone.” You speak finally, picking up your book and retreating to your room with a pointed slam of the door. 

It is late. The sun set hours ago. You haven’t left your room all day, not even when your father insisted leaving a plate of food outside for you. All you can think in your mind is that you cannot stay here. You will not stay here. You will not be forced into a life you do not want, to marry a man you cannot stand. All you keep thinking, as you watch those stars twinkle in the sky, is what must be beyond the hills of this town. You think of all the people you haven’t met, all the experiences you haven’t had. You won’t trade those dreams for a life as Henry’s housewife. 

As quietly as you can muster, you slip your cloak around your shoulders, tying it across your neck, pulling the hood up over your head. You find your satchel and make sure it has your book inside and the other few possessions you held dear. You slink from your room and into your father’s study, long abandoned by him for his bedroom. You find his inkpot and quill and scrawl a note on the paper he has left strewn across his workstation. 

‘Gone to find my adventure.’ 

You slip quietly from the house and to the small stable where Phillipe, your father’s horse, is slowly chewing on some hay. You run your hand down his nose to soothe him, saddling him up and then leading him away from the house. It isn’t until you’re riding the trail into the forest that you finally feel the sense of freedom you had so craved. As Phillipe leads you further into the thick woods, you don’t once look back on the provincial life you’re abandoning. Eyes forward and onto the life you’d always wanted. 

You ride through the night, following unfamiliar paths through the forest until you come out the other side. It’s still desolate, but now, in the low morning sun, it’s just rolling fields and hills, animals grazing and the sound of birds singing. A little while later, you can feel the tightening in your tummy, the pang of hunger, cursing that you hadn’t thought, in your haste to leave, to shove some of the bread you’d bought into your bag. Phillipe has also slowed in his speed; it won’t be long before he needs to drink some water and eat something either. 

As you round a corner, a valley appears in front of you. The change in weather is stark, where you’re surrounded in bright sunshine and the start of the warmth from the early morning sun, the valley in front of you is clouded in dark grey clouds and you think you can make out the slight rumble of thunder. There is a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to turn back, to take the right at the crossroads from the forest and not the left you’d chosen, but wasn’t this the point of leaving? You take a deep breath and let Phillipe continue the ride down into the valley, wrapping your cloak as far around your body as you can as the temperature drops and the darkness envelops you. 

You ride a little while longer, Phillipe becoming restless with the change in the air, when you stumble upon a great fence, covered in ivy and looking decidedly worse for wear. But this fence, in its wrought-iron glory, is a sign of a home, a grand one judging by the height. You can’t peer into the grounds, the ivy too dense to see through, but you guide Phillipe around its perimeter until you find gates, just a grand as the rest of the iron structure. 

You let yourself down from Phillipe’s back, gripping the reigns so he continues to follow you. You try and pull at the gate, but it’s just your luck that it’s locked shut. You can, however, finally see into the grounds. They’re sweeping, some of the biggest gardens you had ever seen in your life. You can imagine that when they were cared for, they would have been magnificent, but they’re dilapidated, obviously long abandoned. In the distance, you can see a similarly magnificent castle. Incredibly big, with turrets and ivy growing over the brickwork, just like something from one of your books. You can’t see any lights that indicate it’s occupied, and you think that if you tried, you could fit through the gaps between the ironwork. It had to be worth a try, even if it was to seek some shelter whilst the storm that was clearly brewing was passing. 

You take Phillipe’s reigns and tie him to the gate, promising that you’ll come back for him once you’ve deemed the castle a safe place to stay, although you’re pretty certain he’s not fitting through the gap in the ironwork, considering the amount you had to suck your body in to fit through. 

It’s a long trek through the grounds of the castle. Each step of your foot bringing an increasing sense of unease over you. You try and tell yourself that it’s just the storm brewing, that it’s dark and clearly abandoned nature is what’s making you uneasy. When you finally reach the front of the castle, you pick the hem of your dress up and take the steps one at a time. You press a hand to the large wooden door and push, surprised that it opens without much effort. You let out a breath of relief. If someone lived here, surely, they’d keep their doors properly shut. 

That relief is short-lived though. The castle is as much in need of love and attention inside as it is outside. Years of weather have damaged the windows, letting all sorts of foliage make home in this entry way. There is a grand staircase, with carpets that are sodden from rain, and a musky smell that somehow sends a chill up your spine. 

“Hello?” You call out, listening to your voice echo through the large room. 

You listen but nothing calls back to you. All you can really hear is the wind whipping through broken glass. You take a few more tentative steps forward, taking in the surroundings. There are side tables with candelabra sat on top. Trinkets of gold and silver. Grand paintings along the walls that are weathered from the elements, but there are some that catch your eye. 

“Hello?!” You call out once more, louder this time, as you walk towards the wall of paintings. 

Some of them are damaged, like they’ve been intentionally torn. Ripped through the likeness of the man that has been painted on them, but the rest, of women and other older men, remain intact. What had this particular man done to deserve this kind of ire? To have his likeness scratched out like this? 

Your hand comes up to touch one of the damaged paintings – canvas flapping in a breeze from somewhere. The man in the painting is handsome, he looks young and fit and happy, standing with his foot on top of a deer that had been hunted. You wonder if this is the person who used to live here and what had happened to them, and everyone else, that made them leave. 

“What are you doing in my home?” 

The voice startles you enough to scream. You turn around, back pressed to the wall, chest heaving as you try and calm yourself down. Your eyes search through the darkness, trying to find where the voice had come from, but to no avail. 

“I asked you a question.” 

The voice in commanding, low and threatening, and now, pressed up against the wall, trying to make yourself as small and insignificant as possible, you almost wish you hadn’t left home. Fear thrums through your veins as you once again try to find the owner of the voice. 

“I-I’m sorry,” You manage to force out from your throat, “I c-called out, d-didn’t know a-anyone lived h-here.” 

You’re watching the ground when a foot, clad in black leather boots moves into the dim light that is cast through the broken window above you. It’s enough light that you can make out a little of the man’s silhouette. Tall, much taller than you, and broad, as commanding a presence as his voice makes him out to be, and yet he doesn’t move further into the light. 

“Didn’t your parents teach you to knock?” He demands. 

“The d-door,” You motion with your hand, watching as it shakes in front of you, “When I t-touched it, it just opened.” 

“Bad manners will get you into danger, little dove,” He taunts, “You picked the wrong home to trespass on.” 

“I’m sorry!” You exclaim, moving away from the wall and back the way you came, trying to make your escape, “I’ll leave.” 

He is quicker than you are though. His hand envelops your wrist, much larger than your own, and drags you toward him. Your front collides with his own with the strength that he’s used to pull you to him. His frame is a solid as it seems, like hitting a brick wall. 

“Another lesson your parents clearly forgot to teach you,” You look up to the voice but it’s so dark you still can’t make any of his features out, “When you do bad things, you have to be punished.” 

You try and fight your way out of his grip but it’s no use. Whoever this man is in front of you, he clearly has the upper hand in strength and agility. But you aren’t going to go down without a fight. You continue pulling at your wrist, wrapping your free hand around the one that has you in a vice grip, digging your fingernails into his skin as you try and scream for help, but nothing seems to work. 

You’re suddenly picked up and flipped over his shoulder like a sack of flour, which gives you the purchase to wriggle around. You ball your fists and take punches to his solid back, but all that does is create a dull throb in your hands.

“Put me down!” You scream, trying to kick your feet enough for him to lose his grip on your as he takes the stairs two at a time. 

“I would advise you to keep still,” He speaks low and calm, “Unless you want to end up thrown over the railings.” 

From your completely undignified vantage point you can tell he’s right. He’s keeping a grip on you but if you continue to wriggle, all that awaits you is a drop onto that cold concrete floor below. As he takes more steps upwards, all you can do is let the fear take over. Your body shakes as tears fill your eyes, dripping down onto the floor as this mystery brute takes you to God knows where. 

It's colder up here, wherever here is. As he walks up yet more stairs, you make out the clear iron bars of cell doors. And your stomach drops. You wanted adventure and now all you get is a prison cell. You can hear him fiddling with a lock, before a creaking sound meets your ears and you’re unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. You try and crawl as fast as you can, hell bent on an escape, but yet again, your captor is faster than you are, shutting the door to the cell and clicking the lock to trap you. 

“Please let me go!” You beg, hands clinging around the bars, “I didn’t steal anything, please let me go!” 

He’s walking away, back down the spiral stone staircase he had come up. Silent and seemingly uncaring in your plight. You continue to call after him, even once his figure is long gone, hands pulling at the bars in an attempt to free yourself, but all clearly to no avail. You slump onto the damp floor and take some heaving breathes through your mouth, but nothing will calm the fear and dread coursing through you. How could this have gone so wrong? Not even a day’s ride from home and you’re captured, no-one will know where you are. Would anyone even come looking for you? 

You continue to pull at the bars until your bones out, calling into the dark until you’re hoarse. Finally accepting your fate, that you’d been naive enough to walk into the first sign of shelter like it was your right, you curl up into a ball in a corner of the call further from the window and wrap your cloak around you, shivering until you fall into the most fitful sleep you’ve ever experienced. 

tags : @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @patti7dc @drewharrisonwriter

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

A few headcanons for a relationship between Rip Wheeler and a shy, quiet, introverted fem!reader:

Protective!Rip dialed up 10000%

Walker ain’t even allowed to LOOK at you, much less speak to you beyond “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am.”

Whenever you go into town, Rip insists he goes with you, or he sends someone with you. He doesn’t like you going alone.

When things get rough on the ranch, he insists you stay in the cabin where it’s safe.

Rip tries really, really hard not to bring work home with him. But sometimes, it happens. And when it does, he’s clipped and cranky and there’s just this thundercloud hovering over him.

When he accidentally barks at you, and he sees you flinch, withdrawing away from him, he knows he messed up big time.

He’ll give you space and take that time to calm down. Then he’ll kiss your forehead and apologize for snapping at you.

One of his favorite things in the world is coming home to see you sitting on the porch, waiting for him.

Sometimes, you feel a little bad because he’s so tough and you’re not. But whenever those doubts slip out, Rip insistently shakes his head and he’s very happy to see that you manage to stay soft in a world that is unkind.

It’s a common occurrence when you’re talking to someone - in town, a ranch hand, etc - that Rip will be standing behind quiet, shy little you, while he’s back there glaring daggers and looking intimidating as a bear.

You are literally the only person on earth who can tease him about it and get away with it.

“Did you do your mean face?”

He just raises his eyebrows slightly, amused. “My what now?”

“Your mean face. That expression you use when you don’t want people lookin’ twice at me.”

You attempt to mimic him - puffing yourself up, putting on a stern face, narrowing your eyes - and it’s a rare thing to make Rip Wheeler laugh but you manage it.

Most of the time, Rip appreciates how shy and quiet you are.

And then there are other times, where it scares the hell out of him. You couldn’t hurt a fly but the world he knows, the world he exists in every day, could snuff you out as easily as a breath of wind on a candle flame. So he worries about you quite a bit.

And on very rare occasions, you and Rip butt heads about your differing perspectives.

He will always choose the gruff, direct, blunt route. To you, this is brash and comes across as callous.

You will prefer the sensitive, tactful option. To him, this is pussy-footing around the issue and it’s better to just deal with it.

Sometimes, you never truly reach a middle ground because you’re both so different. But you love each other like crazy so you agree to disagree.

You rarely set foot in the bunkhouse. Ever. It’s noisy and loud and Rip absolutely does NOT encourage you to go in there.

But you’re curious about it too because he spends a lot of time there. It’s such a big part of his life, alongside the ranch hands.

Ryan and Lloyd pester Rip about bringing you around so they can finally get to know this girl he’s gone soft for.

When Rip continually says no, Ryan and Lloyd tag-team you, inviting you to play some cards and have some fun on a Friday night.

When you show up, you realize you are leagues outside of your comfort zone. But Rip is glued to your side, shooting threatening looks at everyone to be on their best behavior while you’re around.

But as you warm up, the other ranch hands take a liking to you. Your quiet ways are refreshing in a boisterous bunkhouse of loud cowboys.

You’ll quickly learn how to speak up to be heard as they become more comfortable around you. It doesn’t take long before you start trash-talking like the best of them.

After that, the ranch hands have practically adopted you and they’re eager to show you how to rope, ride, etc.

Rip would rather not repeat the experience. Meanwhile you have a little extra bounce in your step.

“They liked me!”

He laughs softly and touches your cheek. “Of course they did, honey. Why wouldn’t they?”

You shrug and snuggle under his arm.

“Guess I just always thought I wasn’t tough enough for you, that’s all. That was fun though. We should do it again.”

Rip hums and shakes his head, brushing a kiss to your temple.

“That would mean I’d have to share you again, darlin’, and I ain’t makin’ a habit of that.”

Writing tag

[ssruis]

I don’t think rui would write a show with romance and cast tsukasa as the lead/himself as the love interest on purpose I think he believes in the separation of work and personal life a little too much for that. but I do think he would do it unconsciously & write characters that are pretty clearly based off of him and Tsukasa and 1) not realize this at all 2) not cast himself as the love interest. He’s like I don’t know why but this play just came really easily to me :) & tsukasa’s in the background tearing out his hair like What Does He Mean With This.

Rui: and I believe emu-kun should be cast as the love interest

Emu: (looks at tsukasa) (looks at rui) nuh-uh I think YOU should do it rui-kun :)

Tsukasa: (behind rui frantically signaling for her to cut it out) it’s a big role, and he needs to focus on directing! Right, rui?

Emu: (ignoring him) nenechan and I can help!! Pretty please? I think rui-kun will be super duper Kira Kira extra wonderhoy in this role!

Rui: hm… this show won’t be too technical, so it’s a good time to train you both on behind the scenes work… I suppose that could work, if that’s what you really want. are you both sure that’s alright?

Emu: yup yup I’m ready to learn!!

Nene: I don’t mind. I’m just happy I don’t have to be the love interest for him… (makes a face)

Tsukasa: excuse me??

Rui: Alright, it’s settled then.

Tsukasa: do I not get a say in this?!

Emu: nope! 🥰

Rui: oh..? Do you not want me to play this role..? (Fake crying) how cruel… and I’ve been so excited for weeks to play it too-

Tsukasa: you told me you wrote this three days ago! You just got the role a minute ago!

Rui: - alas at the final moment my joy has been snuffed out by our tyrannical troupe leader… boohoo…

Tsukasa: 😑 seriously? I already started refining my character assuming emu would be in that role.

Emu: (clinging to nene) you made him cry tsukasa-kun!! Let him take the role!!

Nene: what a monster…

Rui: I suppose it was too much to ask for you to step out of your comfort zone… I just expected a star to be more capable of adapting to changes…

Tsukasa: of course I can! That’s not- (rapidly realizing there’s no way out of this that lets him keep any dignity) urgh. fine! Rui will play the love interest!

Rui: (immediately drops the fake crying bit) wonderful! Let’s work together and produce an amazing show!

Emu: yay!! Can we add a kis-

Tsukasa: (covering emu’s mouth) haha of course it will be amazin - EUGH emu do NOT lick my hand!!!!

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter 27: Creating New Habits

Summary- 5.5k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Making the decision to step way out of another comfort zone is hard but taking that chance on yourself? Something you want to do. Curtis is thrilled to get to help you on this journey.

Warnings- Smut. This is an 18+ only blog. Reader dealing with self-doubt and harsh self-talk.

A/N- Thank you to everyone following Curtis and Honey's journey. It means so much to me as this series is such a personal comfort of mine. Special shout out to @what-is-your-plan-today and @mumbles411 for giving this a read over before posting. Dividers made by the talented @firefly-graphics. Likes are appreciated, but if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and share, it really means so much to me. Thank you again!

Chapter Twenty-Six / Masterlist

What are you doing here Y/N? Your mind raced as you peered out your windshield at the old brick building with a sign that said Big Jon’s Boxing.

You should wait till Curtis can come with you.

You were petrified, the gym was so daunting, but you wanted to prove that you didn’t need Curtis to just come here. 

Gyms were a nightmare for you, you had seen the videos people would post of bigger people working out. That was probably your biggest fear, a video of you plastered all over the internet while you struggled. You could hear Jake’s snickering laugh at your expense, the one he used whenever you embarrassed yourself in front of one of his friends.

“She can’t be brilliant all the time, can you Babe?”

“Whatever Jake, shut the hell up.” You whispered out loud to no one really, just an attempt to drive his voice out of your head. 

You can do this, You want to do this.

You prepped talk yourself while pushing the door open and stepping into the parking lot.

After all, you are just checking it out today, nothing else. 

You stepped into a well-lit area, wide open full of equipment and a few boxing rings scattered around. People milled around, minding their business and never glancing at where you awkwardly stood and looked around. Upbeat music played from various speakers scattered around and a few televisions were hanging above equipment with the screens fixed on different channels.

A nearby desk had a large older man sitting behind it, on his computer when he looked around it to where you were standing. “Hi, can I help you?” 

You stepped towards the desk, giving a light shrug of your shoulder. “I’m just checking the place out. My boyfriend said this gym was the place to go to learn some self-defense moves.” 

“We can certainly do that here, we offer some one-on-one courses or group sessions. Who is your boyfriend? He sounds like a regular here.”

“He was, his name is Curtis Everett.” 

“Oh ho, Curtis! You tell him Big Jon has been wondering where the hell he has gone off to. Grey told me he met someone.” He grinned as he held out his hand towards yours to shake. Your hand felt swallowed in his as you returned the gesture. “How is he doing?” 

“Oh, he is doing good, busy as always.” You said with a small smile. It was hard not to with this man’s energy. Big Jon certainly did remind you of Grey, his presence calming even though he was more vocal than your friend was. Warm eyes twinkled and the lines creased on his face as you two started talking more about Curtis. 

“That sounds about right. I’ve never known him to sit around doing nothing. Always got something happening.”

“That certainly is Curtis.” 

Big Jon hummed in agreement, his large arms folding over his chest and leaning back slightly against his desk. “So self-defense, smart of you to learn.” He reached behind him and grabbed a pamphlet. “Of course feel free to check out the facilities and take this with you, think over what best suits you.” 

You took the pamphlet with a soft thank you. “I will be sure to.” Behind you more people came in, splitting off to talk to Big Jon. You took that moment to walk around, and get a feel for the atmosphere. Everyone was just stuck in their own headspace, mostly ignoring you or giving a brief glance as you passed by. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. You finally admitted to yourself after your tour, returning to the car and sliding in behind the wheel while your thoughts started to gain more confidence. Doesn’t even have to be a class, I can get Curtis to teach me after all. You glanced down at the gym membership card now in your hand. I did it.

This was a huge moment, you felt the exhilaration of facing this fear after a lifetime of being self-conscious about even stepping into a gym. The last time you had, Jake had made you feel so bad about trying that you had quit that very day. But not this time, this time you weren’t worried that Curtis would have some snide remark about you trying. If anything, he was going to be just as thrilled for you as you were.

Already feeling better about the whole idea of joining a gym, you started the car to head back to Curtis’s house for the night. 

You were just coming down the stairs after a shower when you heard Curtis’s truck pull into the driveway. Within moments his heavy steel toe boots were thumping on the steps and the front door was opening to let him in. Your steps down went a little faster, causing him to glance up from where he was unlacing his boots to watch you come down the stairs. 

Dark brows shot up with interest and his blue eyes seemed to drink you in as the sundress he had picked out for you swayed around your thighs. 

The little tingle of pride in making him pause zipped up your spine and gave you a buzz. “Honey, you look…” 

“Cute?” You asked with a teasing tone, pausing on the last step, giving you an advantage of being closer in height when Curtis straightened. 

“Cute is used when you cocooned yourself in the blankets and I have to unravel you out while you’re protesting the entire time,” Curtis smirked as he finished getting his boots off and with silent stocking feet approached that bottom step. Letting his hands flow along the curves of your hips while he brought you close to the step edge, leaving almost no space between the two of you while your arms went over his shoulders and you fiddled with the chain at the back of his neck. 

“Oh god, that is not cute.” Your nose wrinkled at the image, knowing fully how you just weren’t a morning person, no way you could be cute at that moment. 

“I say it is. No, right now you are beautiful and sexy as hell wearing my dress that I picked out for you.” His hands wrapped suddenly around the back of your thighs, at some point he had been able to sneak them just under your dress and with a yelp of surprise from you, he wrapped them around his waist.

“Curtis James!” You clutched at him while he gave a huff of a laugh at your response but started kissing all the sensitive spots on your neck, starting right at your racing pulse and then down towards your shoulder. “One day you’re gonna-” 

“If I hurt my back, then that is on me Honey.” He was quick to cut you off your protest, clearly enjoying having made you wrap around him even if you protested. “You do realize I will never get tired of doing this to you.” 

You giggled, allowing your actual happiness to take over any of your worries as your hands loosened on his upper back and you let them slide up over his shoulders and along his neck to cup his bristled face. “Guess what I did today?” You pressed a kiss to his lips, teasing him with light nips that made him groan deeply while trying to keep you in contact. You managed to pull away again to see a flush start to rise on his neck and the tips of his ears redden.

“Mmhh, what did my Pretty Girl do?” Curtis rumbled out as his fingers flexed into a tighter hold on the back of your thighs. 

“I went to check out that gym you suggested. Met Big Jon and got a membership.” Your grin spread as you said it, showing him just how happy you were about it. 

Curtis gave a whoop and spun enough to make your dress flare out, your outburst of a laugh melding with his praise. “Honey, you’ve made my day.” There was no missing his kiss this time, making everything in you tingle, your fingers curling around his cheeks to hold on and keep up. Within seconds your toes touched the floor as he let you lower back to a stand. “Honestly Y/N, I am so fucking proud of you for this.” 

You gave a shy little shrug, the praise making you feel good and it was still such a new feeling for you. “I figured it was time.” 

“Hey…” His fingers brushed against your chin, tilting you up to meet his gaze. “If it’s what you want, then it’s time.” He said firmly and you nodded to confirm that this was what you wanted and nothing else. 

“Cross my heart.” You made the motion across your chest, his eyes teasing as they dropped to watch the criss cross of fingers across your cleavage. 

He rumbled a bit, his tone dropping in timbre. “Quit distracting me.” Curtis teased, letting his fingers trace over your collarbone and darting in to press his lips to yours once more. 

You managed to mutter between his swift kisses. “One more thing, before we get too carried away.” Your hand pressed against his firm chest and he immediately paused with an arch of his brow to have you continue with your request. 

“You’re right. I should go take a shower.” He suddenly muttered, looking down at himself covered in some grime and grease from his day at the trainyard. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking Honey.” He swiftly apologized but you fisted your hand in his shirt before he could pull away. 

“You know I don’t give a shit about that. Can you take me down the cellar to see what you have down there for workout equipment?” 

“Of course, Honey.” He grabbed his lunch bag and your hand to lead you into the kitchen, depositing his bag by the sink. “It's a bit of a clutterfuck down there though. Some of Gram and Gramp’s very dated furniture made its way down there and I just haven’t hauled it away yet.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, letting him lead you down the old wooden stairs while artificial overheads started to flicker on below you. “I’m not one to judge, my apartment is currently a disaster.” 

Curtis gave a chuckle while he worked his way down, you following behind him carefully. You glanced around the space as this was your first time coming down and indeed was a bit of clutter, but you could see that he had one section cleaned out around the furnace and their was a small section of that squared off with a workout bench and a dusty punching bag. A frame of weights stood near the bench, neatly aligned weights by size. When you were able to glance at the amount of weights still attached to the bar, your eyes widened a bit, from a quick count of numbers, he was certainly lifting more than you weighed. 

“Holy shit…” You muttered and Curtis glanced at you to see you adding on your fingers just to be sure. Again that red crept up his neck and his hand clasped at the back of his neck, rubbing at it. 

It was rare to see Curtis get a bit bashful and it made you grin. “I mean, that was back last summer Honey, I don’t know about doing that much now.” 

“It probably wouldn’t be safe to just jump back into it.” You agreed while he worked some of the weights off the bar, your head tilting to admire the way his back flexed under his shirt during the process, and gave a wistful sigh at the view. 

Curtis gave you a knowing look as he wiped the dust off the bench and sat down while flexing his hands before laying back to inhale deeply. You did the math from the amount of weights left on the bar and your eyes widened a bit. “Curtis you sure about…” 

“I’m fine Honey.” His hands fitted on the bar and moved to lift it off the frame. Your breath held with apprehension at first, he claimed he was fine, he certainly lifted you plenty of times even though you would protest, but you also knew that sometimes his back would spasm and you would hate for him to hurt himself. 

Curtis didn’t seem to struggle though. Sure all the muscles in his shoulders and chest tightened with the effort. Your worry melded into arousal at the view while, at the same time you felt almost envious in the way he was able to so easily lift that weight in such a fluid motion, like it was an ease for him. All too soon he was putting the bar back and pushing back up to a sit. 

His brow arched at you, his knowing smile flirting with his slightly pink-tinged face from his workout. “Com’ere Pretty Girl.” Patting his thigh with his palm. You took a breath and approached him, glancing at his thigh with trepidation before moving to straddle him while his hands slid around to rest on the fullness of your backside. “Tell me what you were just thinking about.” 

Your arms slipped over his broad shoulders, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck to brush against the hairs there. Your gaze roamed his curious face, mapping out the slight arrangement of freckles darting across his nose to his dark lashes that were almost sinful to be on a man. Dropping to the soft pink of his lips among the darkness of his trimmed beard. “I was admiring how incredibly fine you are.” 

Your head dipped to his, your nose trailing against his while breathing in deeply, his cologne heightened cause he was heated up a bit more. You whispered as you pressed your lips to his. “You also smell really good.” 

Curtis shifted a bit, his hands finding a stronger hold on your ass while arching you closer into him. His cerulean blues darkened slightly, the air around the two of you charging with arousal. “I should have brought you down here sooner.” He grunted while your hands slid back over his shoulders and down his chest, your hand fisting in his tee to tug it over his head. 

“Yes, you should because damn if that wasn’t a turn-on.” You said earnestly as your hand twisted in his chain and you arched in close, your mouth finding his and giving a searing kiss. He ground you into him again, this time a lot harder against you, his hips pushing up to meet you. You whimpered into his mouth, your pussy starting to throb and grow wet with need to have him. You could taste him, his smell permeated your senses and made your entire mind grow fuzzy with desire. As dirty as he was from his day at work, it was now driving you mindless. You tugged at his pants while a hand slapped at your ass, making you sting. 

Your dress was tugged away, roughly while your nails streaked down to grab at his belt, working it open. “How much do you like these leggings Pretty Girl?” Curtis just about growled out as your bra got yanked down, his mouth finding its way between your cleavage, the graze of his beard rough against them, and you chased after that feeling. 

“These leggings?” You said with a gasp, wriggling your hips in an urgency. “Burn them off if you gotta Curtis.” 

His moan vibrated into your chest where his face was buried, kissing and worshipping your breasts while he had them exposed to his tongue and teeth. You got his pants yanked open enough to pull his cock out, stroking it with one hand while you moved the other to grab at the back of his head, keeping him pressed in against you. 

Everywhere you felt him nip with sharp teeth his tongue soothed the sting away and left you wanting more. His cock throbbed in your hand as you moved it just how he liked it, the slight squeezes and speeding up to give him the friction, your thumb collecting the small beads of precum collecting to suck off the pad of your finger, humming with eagerness. Curtis pulled up, taking in how your lips parted to suck, his fingers digging into your leggings like they were now pissing him off.

“No one knows just how dirty you can be, do they?” His tone dropped, a whole hunger burning in his voice as you smirked at him, popping your thumb from your mouth, now cleaned of the pearly droplets. Your hips were yanked, the fabric giving away as easily as if he was opening a present. 

“Only for you Curtis.” You teased, giving a slight cry as his fingers stroked along your soaked panties, your head falling back to be able to focus on how your body was weeping to be fucked, how his fingers were pushing between slick folds to tease you to something greater than the need you were in now. Curtis was pushing up into your hand, fucking him with your touch just as he was starting to with you, his fingers thick as they filled your needy, weeping hole. 

“Hell yes only for me.” Possessively intimate in his touch, your pussy squelching as they squeezed his fingers stroking you, touching you in the way only he could, your hips started bouncing up and down on him, one hand still on his cock, jerking him off while the other braced against his shoulder, nails digging in to get the leverage needed to ride his fingers. “Your wet needy hole needed to be filled by me, Pretty Girl.” Your head nodded to confirm as your moans of his name got louder. “So fucking messy and perfect riding my fingers. But I want you coming all over my cock as I fill that greedy hole.” 

“Curtis, please.” Now that he put that image in your head, you needed more than his fingers bringing you to the edge. Pulling up enough to slide his cock between your thighs, you waited long enough for him to move his hand and then started to sink down, stretching you open and making you gasp at the burn. He was always going to stretch you, and you welcomed that feeling of him seeming to sink into your wanting pussy for so long. 

“Thatta girl, you can take me.” His messy hand grasped the roll on your hip, pulling you down onto him. “Always just swallow my cock, fuck.” He hissed as he pushed up, meeting you with a pounding thrust. 

It was just what you needed, bouncing now to meet him Your hands grabbed at one another to hold on, his grunts of effort were matched with your panting moans. Your body went tacky with sweat as your movements became rushed. Your pussy wept around his pounding cock, sucking him in as he hit your sweet spot over and over. 

His mouth found yours, swallowing your moans as his own while you started to break for him, crying with a sharp plea. Wave after wave of pleasure consumed you, making you lose your rhythm as you fell into his chest, clinging to him. His touch turned harder, moving your body to ease you through as you buried your face into his shoulder. “Got you, Honey.” His words slurred, his movements turning rushed and desperate. 

Your head lifted, your lips brushing against his ear as your arms slipped around his neck to hold onto him. “I need you Curtis, fill me up and let me feel full of you.” Your voice was soft against him, gentle quiet pleads that were all for Curtis. “You are so good at making me satisfied.”

You teased his earlobe, nibbling and kissing along the shell, he wrapped you tighter to his hold while your legs trembled and you sank in against him letting him support you. He groaned loud, muttering a curse while warm sticky cum filled you, making you hum with satisfaction that not only did you come, but he did too.

Your touch on his skin was everywhere, stroking your fingers against tensed quivering muscles and letting him hide against you for support as you did him several times, murmuring how much you love him for making you feel so safe and satisfied with him.

“I love you so much, Curtis.” You pressed kisses against his shoulder, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, soaking in the moment. It didn't matter where you two were, it could be in the lush bed of the hotel in Florida or his dusty cluttered basement, it always felt so good being this way with him, it always ended with you feeling worshipped and satisfied. 

“You got this Y/N, you're not going for power right now but just hitting in the same spot.” Grey held up his padded hands in front of you as you focused on the center of his palm and lashed out. You felt weak in your movements though, unsure as you hit against his hands one after the other, alternating which arm was throwing the punch. 

“I feel like I’m not gaining any progress.” You sighed with frustration, pulling back to run your hand against your forehead to wipe away the sweat and catch your breath. Grey loosened one of the gloves, pulling it off. 

“More than you think, you're more consistently hitting and a lot harder too.” His palm flexed to get the sting out. “I know it seems to take forever to notice any change though.”

You tried to take Grey’s words to heart as you wandered to your water bottle to grab a drink, leaning against the ring ropes for a breather. Your gaze fell on Curtis not too far away, his stance wide-legged as he mimicked what you were just doing, only he was hitting a heavy bag, making it swing. You hadn’t even managed to get that thing to move with your punches. 

The back of his shirt clung to his upper back, dark with sweat and you could see the flush of red on the back of his neck creeping up. It didn’t escape you that you were openly admiring the scene before you and tried to subdue it a bit. But it was hard not to, what could you say… Curtis was fucking hot when he was focusing on his workout. 

You still had yet to see him in the ring boxing with another opponent, claiming he was too out of shape for anything like that for now. 

“Hey Curtis…” Grey called out as he started working his way out of the ring. “I gotta go pick up Soph, you wanna come take over?” 

You noticed the immediate change in Curtis, his stance relaxing, shaking out his arms, and all that coiled forced power fading from notice. “Yeah… Tell my niece I will see her this weekend.” 

Grey grabbed his stuff, ready to head off to the locker room. “According to Ella, she hasn’t stopped talking about you guys taking her to that butterfly exhibit.” Grey waved a hand at you in goodbye, you mimicked the move back at him. 

“We’re excited to take her.” You took another sip of water, feeling your breathing start to slow back to normal.

“Keep up the good work Y/N, remember every little bit is progress!” Grey shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared. Curtis pulled himself up, slipping onto the mat while fitting on gloves. 

“He is right Honey. You are stronger already.” Curtis looked you up and down, just as obvious as when you checked him out. “Still need a breather?” 

You glared at him as he gave a slight grin at your expression, You were dripping sweat, hair mattered and although he was red-faced and had beads dotting his hairline on his forehead, he looked still fresh. But your breathing had gone steadier and you didn’t feel that wobble in your arms as much.

“Put them up.” 

Curtis hissed in approval, eyes flashing proudly as he lifted his mitted hands, ready to block you.

“That's my girl… Don’t hold back.” You went to hit, but at the last second, you veered off, unable to make contact. Your arm jerked away, not wanting to smack the gloves held up for you. 

“Damn it.” You pulled back with hesitation and Curtis shrugged it off, thinking you simply just missed. 

“It’s okay Honey.” He repositioned himself to prepare for you. “Try again.” 

Your nose wrinkled a bit as you tried zeroing on his hands, ignoring that you were about to hit Curtis. But you couldn’t, it was still blaring in your head and when you threw your hands into the hit, they weakly plunked off of his hands. “Ugh!” you huffed frustrated as you turned away from Curtis, putting space between you. 

His own hands dropped, concern marring his features. “What’s wrong? Are you tired cause we can call it a day.” 

“No, I’m not tired.” You bounced around on the heels of your toes to try to shake the anxiety that was building in your chest. Your whispers muttering to yourself. “Just do it Y/N, stop being this way, stop being weak.” 

Hearing you talk to yourself bothered Curtis, the way you were so harsh to yourself. You hadn’t done that in a long time and he wasn’t about to let you continue. “Hey Baby, Look at me.” His tone was a command more than a request, he gripped at the velcro tie on one hand with his teeth and ripped it open to shake his hand out. Within a step he was standing in front of you, his freed hand cupping your cheek enough to stop you. You averted your eyes for a moment, anger making them darker but finally they flitted up to him with regret. “Deep breath in, please.” 

You almost defied him, but you softened and let the air fill your lungs and his deep timbre requested an out, your exhale giving a bit of relief to all the thoughts racing in your head. “Sorry… I-I” You fizzled out a bit. Your hands went to his other glove, working it open. “You should take this off.” 

He pulled his hand away from your grasp enough so you couldn’t take it off. “Talk to me Honey, what just happened.” Curtis's head tilted closer, keeping the conversation between just the two of you. His fingers brushed against your cheek, pulling his thumb away enough to show the glisten of frustrated tears at the end. “I want to help you through this.” 

You struggled a moment with it, finally admitting your downfall. “I can’t hit you Curtis. I just can’t, when I even think of hitting you it makes me feel sick.” 

“You’re not hitting me though Honey, this is practice. You’re not going to hurt me.” He pointed out the obvious, an arm easing around you and you stepped in closer to let your face press against his damp chest and sigh against it while you felt supported. 

“It feels like it though and I can’t bring myself to follow through with what Grey has been teaching me.” 

A heavy hand rubbed at your back, now that it was out there, you couldn’t just take it back. You were sure Curtis found this just as ridiculous as you. 

He is gonna think you are trying to get out of exercising. That you’re fat and unwilling to make the effort. Just listen to your breath when doing the minimum. 

That nasty voice plagued you, sounding so much like Jake that you felt your shame flare up all over again. 

But his hand never stopped and finally, he tipped you back up to look at him. “Okay, I get it. If you asked me to do that, I would stress about that too.” 

“You don’t think I’m being stupid?” You sniffled a bit and he shook his head, now brushing your loosened hair back from your face. 

“No, I don’t ever think that Honey. You wouldn’t be this upset if it didn’t matter. Let’s try something else- together.” Curtis added, sweeping down to grab at the glove he had discarded earlier and led you to the edge of the ring, helping ease you out. “There is plenty of equipment here, you can punch on all that instead.” He winked at you and already you could feel the knot in your chest start to loosen up. 

Curtis ended up taking you across the gym to a punching dummy, masculine in its features.

You reached out to touch it, the material firm but had some give. “Yeah, I can hit on this.” 

“Mmh, I thought so.” His arm was slung around your shoulder while you explored the dummy. You gave a bit of a punch to see how it felt, grinning when you felt it sway just a bit. 

“Just imagine this is that prick from the bar or your ex.” He whispered against your ear before stepping back. This time when your arm swung back, the force you hit it made it sway back. “Like a champ Honey.” 

His praise replaced that anxious feeling. 

“Remember the hammer strike Y/N?” Grey asked from the side of the ring, Edgar standing before you while Curtis watched from the opposite side. You looked confident while Edgar jokingly teased. 

“Be easy on me.” 

Curtis grinned as you flashed a smirk, sensing the way your muscles were tightening as you prepared the move Grey was asking for. 

“Scared Edgar?” 

“Maybe a little!” He made like he was going to attack you, but you were quick on your feet, dancing back a step and striking out for his head. The helmet he was wearing blocked your attack, but you kept at it, making him back up till Grey clapped his hands together sharply to have you break apart from him. 

It was a stroke of genius on Tanya’s part to suggest Edgar after Curtis was talking to Grey about how it went after he had left. He never went into details about what happened, but simply said that you had conflicting feelings about practicing the self-defense on him.

Tanya’s hint was not so subtle when she turned towards Edgar who was sneaking out a donut from the box on her desk meant for the break room. “Have Y/N practice on Edgar, you would do it, right?” She arched a brow at Edgar like she dared him to say no. “Do anything to help out, I just know you would Edgar.” 

“Uh-” Edgar stuttered, being put right on the spot. “Sure, I mean of course I would. I haven’t been to Big Jon’s in ages anyway.” The donut getting crammed into his mouth quickly. 

“Good man.” Tanya smirked, clapping a hand on his back. 

At first, you had balked at the idea, not wanting to hit him either but Curtis was able to convince you. Last Halloween also might have been a lasting memory about why you wanted to rough Edgar up a bit. You finally relented, far more enthusiastic about training with Edgar’s assistance. 

Now Curtis saw your confidence build as Grey moved you through the moves, eventually ending with you dragging Edgar down onto the mat after escaping from a bear hug, you were gasping for breath, sweat running down your face as you put your hands to your knees for a second to catch your breath, but you looked triumphant. 

A big booming clap sounded right next to Curtis, making him glance over in surprise at Big Jon slamming his hands together. “Damn, that was a sight to see! Edgar getting whooped all over the ring. Good job Sweetheart.” 

The grin on your face got wider as you wiped your arm across your forehead, a bit of bashfulness but happiness making you squeak out. “Thank you Jon.” 

“She is doing incredible.” Jon said a lot gentler while you reached for Edgar’s hand, helping him back to a stand and retreating to grab some water. 

Curtis hummed in agreement. “That’s because she is. She overcame a lot to come here for this. I’m so proud of my girl.” He pulled himself up into the ring, leaving behind Big Jon for the moment while stalking across the mat.

You were cleaning yourself up when you flung the towel around your neck, holding onto the ends as you gave him that questioning grin. “What did you think?” Your teeth snagged at your bottom lip, nervous about what he would say. 

“Fucking badass is what I think Honey.” His voice was deeper than normal, his eyes darkening as his hands rested on your hips, dragging you in close. With a dip of his head towards your ear, his beard grazing along your cheek while whispering. “Driving me insane watching you, I’m not going to make it back home till I have to fuck you.” 

Your eyes went wide and excitement fluttered through your chest to settle low, and then lower still while you subtly clenched your thighs together, your heart racing all over again for another reason. His mouth hotly pressed to yours, drawing out a surprised sultry moan as you got lost in the kiss, the whole gym fading away for those few seconds.

[zinzabee]

A Message for the RotTMNT Fans

For everyone who is afraid of drawing Rise Raph because of his large body type and proportions, I am here to give you this message: I promise you, I would much rather see you try your best effort and it look a little wonky than for you to exclude him entirely from your art and doodles.

The reason I am able to draw Raph as well as I am right now is because I learned how to draw fat/muscular/chubby body anatomy in my early art career. But it's really never too late to start practicing! I encourage you, I implore you even, to take a few small steps out of your comfort zone for a bit and see where it takes you. If you want to draw him (or any favorite character from a piece of media you love, really) but are intimidated because of their size being abnormal from the thin/skinny, I want you to know that it's okay to be scared. What's not okay is giving up, quitting, or not even trying to attempt their bigger proportions at all. Because then that will bleed over into the rest of your art style/mentality, and there are aspects of your art that you may never improve on because of that. You don't know until you try.

I know it may feel awkward at first, and you may be intimidated by the pressure of getting it right, less anyone make fun of you or you get caught by peers or non-artists and be judged. Trust me, I know. I have been there! It's not a pleasant experience. But if you want to get better as an artist, you need to learn different body types. You need to unlearn the internal fatphobia that society has ingrained into your brain. You need to free yourself and allow yourself to make mistakes as you learn and practice to get better.

Raph is such a wonderful character and he deserves just as much love as all the other brothers, but I've talked to so many artists who all repeat the same thing; "He's so hard to draw." "I can't get his shapes quite right." "I don't draw him that much because I'm intimidated." You are 100% valid for these feelings, I promise. But I think it's for these reasons that you should draw him anyway, and learn his shapes, and learn to draw larger bodies and bigger muscles, because it helps you grow as an artist. And besides that, representation matters. I know there's plenty of fans out there who would love to see more representation like Raph.

So go for it. Even if you're scared. Even if you're unsure. Give yourself a little grace if you wanna draw that big lovable turtle, and do your best. And when it comes down to it, I bet that if he was real and you showed it to him, he'd love it and appreciate the effort no matter what. <3

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Johnny Cage x Reader ໒ ˚⁎

Johnny Cage with a young adult reader who’s inexperienced in life hcs + one-shot

•Johnny takes on a protective role, seeing your inexperience as a chance to guide and mentor you. He’s always ensuring you don’t get into situations you’re not ready for

•He uses his sense of humor to teach you important life lessons. He believes learning should be fun, so he often shares his experiences through funny anecdotes and stories

•Cage is your biggest cheerleader, always encouraging you to try new things and step out of your comfort zone

•Johnny is patient with you, taking the time to explain things and never making you feel embarrassed about your lack of experience. He’s been through a lot himself and knows that everyone has to start somewhere

•Whether it’s landing your first job, learning to drive, or even small victories : he celebrates each step of your journey with enthusiasm !

You’re sitting in a quiet corner of a bustling café, nervously stirring your coffee. Johnny Cage, the ever-charismatic and energetic movie star, sits across from you, a reassuring smile on his face

"So, you’re about to start your first job, huh? That’s awesome!" Cage started the conversation between you two, releasing positive and comforting energy

"Yeah, but I’m kind of freaking out about it. I don’t really know what to expect..." you admitted, glancing down at the coffee you just ordered, with a sad look on your face

Johnny chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, everyone’s a rookie at some point. I remember my first big movie, terrified out of my mind! But look at me now. You’ll get the hang of it, trust me!"

"I just don’t want to mess up..." you responed

Johnny leans forward, his expression turning serious but kind : "Listen, mistakes are part of the deal. You learn from them, you get better. And you’ve got me in your corner. Anytime you need advice or just someone to talk to, I’m here ! " he quickly rassured.

"Thanks, Johnny. That means a lot" you smiled, feeling a bit more at ease

"No problem! Now, how about we celebrate this new chapter with a little training session? I’ll teach you some moves to boost that confidence of yours" he suggested

You laugh, the tension easing away. "Alright, let’s do it!" you replied with a grin

"That’s the spirit! And remember, I love seeing you grow and take on the world. It’s exciting, and I’m proud of you" Johnny respond to your enthusiasm

With that, Cage leads you out of the café, ready to help you tackle whatever comes next with his trademark enthusiasm and support

DNI: basic criteria, DSMP, vivziepop/h4zbin h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl, nsfw/k!nk, anti-agere, anti Christians blogs

[slightlymoldybread]

Prince Mush headcanons! Because he lives rent free in my head 24/7

He's in his early 20s, 23 at the oldest. He started fighting in the Glitz Pit when he was still a teenager. Jolene is 3 years older than him.

He and Jolene are the Master's grandkids. He learned most of what he knows about fighting from his grandfather, and extensively trained with him before his career began.

He's pansexual, and particularly attracted to people physically stronger than him. If someone can lift him off the ground, he starts blushing. If they can lift him above their shoulders, he swoons and goes slack in their arms.

Despite his family being much better off now than they were when he started his career, he and Jolene still live with their parents; it's just more convenient for everyone. They do have a nice, big house in Glitzville now, though.

Hot dogs are his favorite food. He always visits Mr. Hoggle's stand if he needs a snack while he's at the Glitz Pit. Mr. Hoggle really likes him because he always leaves a good tip.

He loves to wear hoodies when he goes out, especially big baggy ones. They make up like 80% of his wardrobe when he's not in the ring.

He's a huge comic book/manga nerd. He grew up reading a lot of them, since they were the best form of entertainment his poor family could afford for him. He always keeps a few in with his gear, and unwinds after his training sessions by reading them.

He has recurring night terrors of being dragged to the power-draining machine, unable to move or call for help. He always wakes up screaming just as the machine starts up.

He takes really good care of his hair. That big banana-looking lock of hair he has? It smells amazing and feels like fine silk.

He likes to do a self-care day every now and then. Around once a month he'll skip training for a day, and instead spend that time taking a nice long bubble bath, doing a face mask, and lounging around in a fluffy bathrobe with a hot cup of tea.

He has a bad habit of bottling up his emotions, especially his trauma from what Grubba did to him. He thinks that by avoiding discussing it with anyone and hiding it behind a big smile, he can eventually push it out of his mind. Obviously this doesn't work, and he often ends up crying himself to sleep over it, or letting it all out in one big meltdown when something breaks his facade.

While he's by no means stupid, he is a rather naive person who's too nice for his own good, and is easily taken advantage of.

He generally has a preference for skimpy or loose-fitting clothing, as he likes to wear things that don't restrict his movement. For the same reason, he prefers to go barefoot whenever he's at home or training.

He has low alcohol tolerance, especially compared to Jolene. If he were to drink the amount it takes for her to start feeling buzzed, he'd wake up in the hospital.

He's autistic. Jolene mentions him saying that "there are some things that can only be understood by fighting", which I read as him finding a better understanding of the world around him when viewing it through the lens of his special interest. Maybe he has trouble getting what people are thinking or feeling normally, but he can pick up on things from seeing how they fight, and he feels more connected to and understanding of them overall if he has a spar with them. This is why he's so eager to fight Mario for the first match of his comeback; he has a lot of respect for Mario for saving his life and wants to feel closer to him, and he finds the best way to do that is through combat. Or something.

Another symptom of his autism is that he has a "comfort zone" of things he likes to eat or wear or do, which he doesn't typically step out of.

He loves listening to girly pop music, especially while working out.

He squeals and kicks his feet when he's excited.

[karimatles]

Humanization of Sadness (Inside Out). This sketch was hard, a big step outside of my comfort zone. Blue skin made my brain short circuit the most. Joy was a lot easier. Learned a few things in the process, so the result can be considered positive. I'm really happy to move on to the next one because, to be honest, I grew tired trying to save it from looking very-very bad ( ಠ_ಠ)

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 5!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: Sorry I just had to tease you guys today and make you wait :) Again, I’m so very sorry this took a while, I just had a lot going on! I hope you enjoy the chaos of this chapter, my mind reallyyyy just went wild. 

Another special shout out to @gvfpal for being amazing and getting the first dibs on this piece! Thanks for always listening to my crazy ideas :) 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, impact play, etc, it’s filth. 

Masterpost

Driving lately has become a weird buffer zone in your life. Every time you get into the car your thoughts just start running. It feels like stepping out of your life momentarily; like you are closed off from your own world. It was like being in your own TV show and watching the recap of the last episode. It’s safe, isolating, and a place to let your thoughts just go. 

As usual, your thoughts go to Jake. He has consumed your entire mind. You were once happy being alone; in fact, you preferred it. Every man you’ve dated in the past year or so hasn’t been someone to take home to the family. Honestly, neither was Jake yet, but there was something different about him. Jake was different than any man you had been with, you felt like he did care for you, but he just didn’t know how. It was like he was a confused little kid who didn’t know whether to kick his mom or hug her when she came home from a long day away. 

You’ve never found yourself weak or needing a man, but Jesus fucking Christ, you needed Jake. Every time you’re in his presence you can’t help but feel your heart rate rise, feel the need growing between your legs… He just had this majestic siren song that you keep falling for. You’ve accepted at this point that Jake was right, he will never be the perfect boyfriend, let alone the perfect man. He was protective of you and did care for you, but he would never let you know that without a fight. 

“Pants off, now.” He commands. 

Oh.

Did he really just?... 

He’s standing over you with this stupid judging face. You don’t want to obey him, but your body is telling you other things. Your heartbeat has traveled from your chest down between your legs, pulsing at the thought of fucking him again. You feel frozen in this state of complete lust. Last night’s extravagance deprived you of his cock, and now… that’s all you want.

Clearly annoyed by your hesitation, Jake scoffs and reaches down to your waist. He wraps his arms around your midsection and lifts you over his shoulder. Your core cuts into his shoulders as he hoists you over him. You feel like a ragdoll trying to manipulate your way out of his grasp.

“Jake!” You whimper, trying to wiggle yourself into a more comfortable position.

“You really ought to learn to fucking listen to me.” His open palm meets your clothed ass, providing a cushioned, but still stinging smack. You yelp, quite loudly, surprised by his actions. He turns his head to look at your defeating position, “You’re in big fucking trouble now.” 

There he was. The Jake you have been craving. The Jake that surprised you your first night together. The Jake who you always secretly wanted, but were also a little scared of. This version of him was almost completely heartless, using you as he pleased. You become his plaything when this persona switches on. And you enjoy every minute of it. 

He loops his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats and yanks them off in one vigorous pull. Your ass is now on full display. You reach below his shirt and rake your nails across his lower back, trying any means to rile him up further. 

Jake winces through gritted teeth, “You’re such a fucking whore.” 

“And you fucking love it,” You cry.

Another open-handed smack breaches your ass; another yelp fires out of you. This one is sure to leave a mark. 

“You’re gonna wish you were good.” 

He starts his walk to the bedroom, and you continue to try to wiggle free of him. His grip is firm on you and the position he’s burdened you with provides no leverage to win. Although you really don’t want to be set free, it’s more fun not to completely comply with 

his whims. 

He approaches the bed and throws you down with a brute but controlled force. Your head falls back into the mattress you neatly made not that long ago. You reach your hands out to brace yourself from breaking. The fabric bunching up in your fists. 

“Hey! I just made this!” You chime.

Speaking at that moment was something you instantly regretted. 

Jake is standing over you, breathing hot and heavy. The tension in the air is thick and you know what you have gotten yourself into now. His demeanor is fierce, brow furrowed and eyes glaring through you. His hands are balled up by his sides and you can see the rigidity in his body. Behind his eyes, his brain is wracking through plans of what to do with you, his disobedient girl. 

You slide your legs up and down the mattress, nervous and excited about what he is thinking of. You run your hands down your stomach, trying to entice him to do something, do anything to you. Anything he wanted. You slowly part your legs, presenting yourself to him. 

“No. You don’t deserve that.” He barks, “If you think any of this will be for your pleasure… You’re delusional.”

“...Jake.” You beg. 

He reaches down towards your head, sending his fingers through your scalp and to the back of your neck, whipping you up, tugging his fingers on your hair. He leans closer to your face, still hovering over you. 

“Not.” A harsh pull at the back of your head puts you eye to eye with his looming presence. “My,” Another wincing pull tearing at your scalp, “fucking name.”

Jake holds you in his grip, dominating you completely. You feel defenseless, like an injured bird, waiting for him to care for you, but he doesn’t. 

“Please! Please, sir!” You beg. 

He releases you from his grip and your neck snaps back up to its rightful place. 

“Color.” He demands. 

You look up to him, eyes fierce and ready. “Green.”

Jake grabs your jaw, resting his grip along the bone, “You are mine right now. I didn’t give everything up for you to be flirting with my fucking twin. Do you understand me?”

You nod your head vigorously, feeling the shame settling in you. Who knew you could feel ashamed and horny all at the same time. 

“Words.” He orders.

You swallow any shame and try your best to put it aside; it wouldn’t help you now.

 “Yes, sir.” You mewl.

His hands move to the side of your neck, holding your jaw firmly with his thumb. 

“You know what you should be doing right now.” 

He guides your eyes down to look at the growing bulge in his pants. He seems harder than ever before, completely drunk on his own control. You look up at him through heavy eyes, scared. You’ve been here before. You need to please him again. 

Jake releases his hand from your jaw and moves it to run his fingers through the top of your head, coaxing you to get started. Gently placing your hand on his cock, you try to gently stroke him through his clothes. 

He fists your hair into his fingers, “No, no teasing. You don’t get to do that right now.” 

There would be absolutely no option for control for you. No teasing, any brattiness would come with a consequence. Jake steps back and leaves a bare spot on the carpet in between you two. His hand pushes you forward, launching your feet onto the rug, and then onto your knees. He releases his hand from your scalp and starts unzipping his pants. 

You are completely silent; compliant with his wishes. Waiting for his instructions. Your head rises to watch his cock slide out from his boxer briefs. It was daunting to see him like this, completely full, swollen even, bigger than you ever thought he was before. His right-hand grips around the solid skin, slowly stroking. His other hand reaches out to grab your cheeks, holding your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. 

Your eyes graze up his body to meet his eyes. The chocolate brown irises are almost unrecognizable in this position. His dominating stature shines over you, completely taking over you. You can feel your excitement growing beneath you, but there is nothing you can do about that. The warmth that was blossoming between your legs would be shut until your turn if you were even allowed one. 

He loosens his grip around your jaw, resting his hand under your chin. 

His velvety tone sweeps into the air, relinquishing any uncertainty you had, “If you need me to stop,” Three taps of his fingers rap gently across your jaw, “Just do that, okay? Tap three times.”

“I won’t need to stop.”

A complete surge of neediness consumes you. You need him, you need to make him feel special, to remind him that you were going to be the woman he would never forget. You take your hands from your lap and fly them to his body. One hand grips into his thigh and the other takes its position around the base of his shaft. You nearly knock him over in the act, sending him into pure bliss. Almost taking him out of his command, shocking him with your ability to be the whore he wanted you to be. 

“Fuck…” He cries. “My fucking little slut couldn’t even wait-”

You slide your mouth as far as you can down his shaft, gagging yourself on all of him. His body shudders below your hand and you feel proud of your ability to melt him as much as he does to you. 

It doesn’t take too many wet strokes for him to finally gather himself back. His hand reoccupies the back of your head, trying to chase that same feeling again. Your mouth is shoved with as much of him as you can take, almost too much to handle. It’s worth the praise, you tell yourself. Take all of him now, and get all the rewards you can. 

“You’re taking me so well.” He says in gravely tones. 

You truly weren’t, you were choking him down, barely hanging on. Tears streaming down your eyes. You try to shoot your best doe eyes up at him, begging for him to have enough. You were reaching your limit, pushing yourself to a new maximum. 

Your head kept bobbing rhythmically against him, trying to hold him deep in your throat. You were doing things you didn’t even know your body was capable of. 

“My best little whore looks so good down there, sucking my cock.”

A swift and hard push of the back of your head launches you as far as you can take Jake, knocking your nose into his lower stomach. 

Three taps.

Fuck. You did need to stop. 

Jake slides out of your mouth as you cough heavily, gasping for air. You collapse your head, trying to stabilize yourself. Deep breaths. 

Jake tucks himself back into his pants and tries to assess the situation. He bends down to you, bringing his face down to yours; sweeping the hair out of your face. The switch was flipped, he was going into protective mode. 

“Sunshine.” He whimpers. You try to hold back your coughs and lift your head to his. He pushes the last strand of hair out of your eyes, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, holding your breath in fear that more wheezes are going to escape. One deep breath through your nose clears the burning tickle in your throat. 

“Yes, I’m okay. Keep going.” 

His face lights up with your permission. The classic Jake smirk runs across his lips, almost a full smile revealing his excitement. 

“Good girl.” 

The words melt you. Any bit of praise was going to keep you going; it was going to make you need him more. 

He lifts you slowly back onto the bed, trying his best to be gentle only for this moment. He sprawls you out onto your back and sits next to you. 

The slowdown of all the action, the passion, is getting to you. He’s treating you like a weak girl, but you weren’t. He just took you by surprise. You wouldn’t let that one moment take away the Jake you had been craving. 

“C’mon, are you going to fuck me?” The words sputter out of you, only half confident, but still ringing strong through the air. 

Jake snaps his neck to scowl at you. There it was. 

His arm travels to your neck, holding you in place, once again choking for air, “What if I’ve had enough of you today? What then?” 

What if? Would he still be here if he did?

“You fucking want it and you know it… You’ve been thinking of it since last night. Seeing my cunt all soaked and not getting to feel it for yourself.” 

Who the fuck just said that? A month ago those words wouldn’t have even been something you would be comfortable thinking, let alone saying out loud. 

Your vile words shock Jake as well; you can feel the grip on your neck waiver a moment as he processes. And then. Well.

“You think you fucking know it all? My little slut thinks she knows me better, huh? I think it’s you that’s been craving my cock. You could barely wait your turn to fucking choke on it. You’re dying for me to fuck you. You’ve been naughty, trying to get me to take you. Being a little whore in front of me. Now you can wait.”

Jake stands up, and for a moment you’re actually worried he’s about to walk out of the room. Instead, he reaches for your left ankle and yanks it to the corner of the bed, the sheets sliding you across the mattress. 

“Shirt off.” He orders, and you comply instantly. 

He rounds the edge of the bed and grabs your wrist next, pulling it up by the pillow you slept on last night. With his other hand, he reaches deep into the side of the mattress between the bed frame and pulls out a restraint. It’s a soft cuff with velcro to hold it together. He holds it out for you so you can see. 

“Green?” He asks, eager for your answer.

“Fucking yes.”

A rip of velcro and then the cuff is wrapped around your wrist. You softly tug at the restraint, noticing it wasn’t going to be easy to break out of it, but you guess that was the point. 

Two more rips and soon your ankles are loosely restrained to the corners of the frame. You have more movement with your legs than your hand, but still would not be able to break free of the cuffs. 

He walks around the bed to the other side, surveying your naked body. Taking in each inch with his gaze. He was going to be the predator, and you the helpless prey. 

One last rip of velcro and the other cuff wraps around your wrist. Once he’s satisfied with the cuffs, he walks over to stand directly in front of you, watching you test each limb for movement. 

“What if I just left you like this? Just stood here and watched you beg for my cock.” The words are cold and cruel. You can feel the fire, no, the need burning in you with the thought of not having him. 

“No! Please, please. I need you. I want you.” You beg mercilessly. 

“So much for all that back talk before, huh? ‘Please’” He mocks. “I’m not so convinced you’re ready to be good yet.”

The need is gathering through your stomach, down between your legs. There was no way to hide the slickness that was starting; he would be able to see all of you.  

“Please!” You gasp, “I can be good, I promise sir… Just please fuck me. Fuck me, Sir!”

“Hmmm…” He drops his hands down on the mattress, staring you down, watching you writhe through the desire. “You don’t deserve anything. Trying to make me upset, trying to tease me, such a fucking whore today.”

The words coming from him are completely a facade. He knows he wants this now. He’s in too deep. He loves to see you like this, completely helpless; completely his. You have more of a say in this than he wants you to know. But you know what to do. You know the games he likes to play. 

“Please, baby. I know. I was such a bad girl… I’m a dirty slut. I fucked up. You can be mad at me, please… please just take me, I want to make you happy.” 

He watches you for a brief moment, letting the pleads hang in the air. His eyes are lit with an insatiable lust. He wanted it. He wanted it bad. He may be able to mask it with his words, but his body tells a completely different story. He pushes himself off of the mattress and begins to undress himself. Teasing you with each reveal of his tanned skin. 

First his shirt. The edges of the fabric slowly climb their way up his gorgeous soft stomach. It was like a curtain lifting at the beginning of a show, each inch elevating your excitement for the first act. 

The silence was eating at you. What was he thinking? What was he going to do…

“Please, Please…” You implore. 

Next is his zipper, slowly sliding down to once again, reveal his bulging, practically jumping cock. The sight of it is sending you into a ferality. You pull against the restraints, trying to lift yourselves towards it. Paying no mind to the forces holding you back, you try to reach for him.  

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He growls, “So impatient.” 

Pleading moans erupt out of you. You feel like you’re being withheld from the thing you want most, well, because you are. You feel your core tightening. His sultry, teasing behavior is absolute torture. 

“I need you! I need it, please!” 

Slowly, the remainder of his clothes fall off of his body, revealing his perfect stature. His body looks like it’s carved with absolute perfection and care. Each edge is softly rounded, ready to be touched. 

He crawls across the bed, bringing his head close to your aching cunt. His breath permeates your skin. He reaches one finger up to your lower stomach, slowly dragging it from your navel to your clit. You’re whimpering with each movement he makes. 

“Is this...” He finally plants his finger firmly onto your bundle of nerves, shocking every muscle in your body, “What you want?” 

“Yes, yes, yes…” The words are echoing out of you, pressing for more. 

“You’ve been very good, surrendering to me. You know your a bad girl, right? That I’m being extremely forgiving for even taking you this far.” 

“Yes, sir…” 

His tongue crashes into you, at first wide and spreading you, then narrowing onto your needy clit. The first pass over you sends you into complete shock, you can’t do anything but feel. The restraints prevent you from being at all distracted by anything but his soft, precise movements. 

He builds his pace, tasting everything of you that he can. 

“Oh poor thing, you can’t even help it.” He teases, “You just have to take it all.” 

“I want it all…” It’s getting harder to even form sentences. All you can think about is his face on you, completely drenching you. His tongue exploring each fold, each sensitive spot. You feel the tightness, the excitement rushing through you. Your legs shaking, arms fighting against the restraints. Labored moans fighting their way out. 

“Oh, well that won’t do.” He stops everything, denying you the release you were feeling so close to, “I’m sorry sunshine, but this is for my pleasure. Remember?” 

You whine, exasperated cries spilling into the air. 

“Are you being ungrateful?” 

A flat-handed smack splays across your swollen cunt. You lift your neck to watch it all happen. The evil smirk splayed across Jake, the hand meeting your skin, the soft gasps escaping your lips. 

“Color?” He asks. 

You think for a moment, “Green.”

Another soft blow swats at you, absolutely wrecking your body. Each blow feels like a shock wave of filthy pleasure. 

“Fuck…” This moment felt so dirty. Felt so good. He always pushed you to new levels of pleasure. 

He wastes no time at this point. He can’t wait any further to feel you. He knows he can’t hold out on you any longer. 

Jake pushes himself up on the mattress and starts to slowly pump himself. A steady stream of spit falls from his lips onto his cock, lubricating himself. 

“Are you ready for this?” He asks, most likely not caring how ready you are, it just means he was ready. 

You nod your head, unable to even fathom the force he will bring to you. 

“Words.” He commands. 

You strain to focus yourself, “Please just fuck me.” 

He reaches over to the corners of the bed, releasing your ankles from the restraints, but leaving your hands in their disciplinary holds. 

He grabs your hips and lifts you to line up with him. His cock blows into you, straight to the hilt. You moan loudly, almost graphically. He squeezes his thumbs into your sides, stabilizing himself. Low grunts come through his gritted teeth.

He isn’t giving you any mercy, pounding himself into you. Each drill pushes further and further into you, breaking you in two. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You groan. 

“Yeah? My little slut likes getting fucked like this?” He asks. 

“She’d like it a lot more if you were harder,” You reply through choked breaths. 

You don’t need to beg much for this. 

“That’s why you’re my fucking favorite.” 

Jake assumes his hand on your neck, gripping you tightly. You thought he was going hard before, but this was unreal. Each pump into you provided a harsh blow to your body. It was calculated, menacing, everything you fucking wanted. 

You feel him fill you entirely, your cunt consuming every inch of his unyielding cock. You feel yourself already losing control, building to climax. He feels so good, better than ever before. You both feel confident in each other, and you both know how to get each other to the highest high. 

“Oh, you think you deserve to come?” 

Fuck. 

“Please!” You beg. “Please sure, please.” 

He looks deeply into your desperate eyes. He can see the absolute terror of being denied. You feel like maybe he might give in, might let you get there. You know how close you are and you can feel him getting there too. You risk it all. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him into you, preventing him from escaping. 

“You fucking-” 

You both gasp in unison, reaching your orgasms just moments after the other. Jake lowers himself by your ear, uttering complete pornographic moans. It feels intimate to hear him like this, to hear how happy you’ve made him. 

Your body shudders underneath him, clenching around his softening body. Your restricting hold increases every tightening muscle in your core, lifting your back completely off of the mattress. Feelings of butterflies flurry through your body, starting from your satisfied cunt, down through your legs. 

You both mix within yourself, feeling your body flood with him. 

“You fucking slut.” He chokes out. 

You giggle in his ear, “Admit it, Jake, you fucking love it.” 

Instead of feeling excitement for your destination, you just feel uneasy. You could feel the sweat slickening the steering wheel the harder you gripped it. Deep down, there was a part of you that wished you didn’t agree to go see the band. 

The last time you interacted with Josh, it left Jake feeling jealous. He truly had no right to be jealous of you just making friends. But now, there was some lingering destructive intent. You wanted him to feel that way; as petty as that was of you. You were always the one chasing after Jake, begging him for attention, begging to be the only one. That morning with the twins was your opportunity to give him a taste of how it feels to be you. 

That point didn’t entirely come off to him, instead, the argument just led to more intense angry sex. That was always going to be the best way for you two to get in the mood. 

You hate knowing that Jake can get out of any argument by getting you fired up. At least you knew that all these arguments could in theory just be your foreplay, not ever real fights. It made you feel diminished, but then again, he would always find a way to make everything up to you by the end. 

Jake and his stupid, stupid apologies were going to kill you someday.

You both knew you had work that night, so Jake opted to drive you home so you could get ready. The morning and early afternoon flew by at his house. You were quite exhausted at that point and were ready to wash away the very sinful acts that still lingered on your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to prepare yourself for the shift and had to rush through your usual routine. Shower. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Get out the door. The whole hour went by in a blur. 

And just as usual, you pull through the cavernous parking lot of fleets and find your always unoccupied spot in the back. You still manage to arrive before Jake, whose car was missing from the lot. You turn off the engine and head into the back door. The kitchen is busy, with loud clanging and shouts emerging from behind the hallway walls. 

You drop your bag and head out to the main floor. Chris is nowhere to be seen yet, and the only other employee you can see is… of course. Mariella. 

She’s wearing this shit-eating grin talking to the regulars. You feel a wave of disgust run over you and you have to try and control yourself from letting your emotions get the best of you. The last time you saw her she was trying to fuck up your relationship with Jake, and well… She succeeded. You can’t let her do that to you. You can’t let your jealousy burn through what you have with him. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Breathe through it, let it go, and kill that bitch with kindness. 

You walk to the bar and hop under the counter, joining her behind the bar. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge you as you clock in. It all feels so middle school. You pretend she doesn’t exist, and she’ll probably do the same. 

The dishwasher beeps and you run over to start emptying the glasses. She pops her head over to look at you briefly but turns back to continue flirting with the 40-year-old in front of her. 

You’re extremely annoyed, but continue to complete your chores; well technically hers. Where the fuck is Jake? And why the fuck is she still behind the bar? 

“Hey girl,” Hearing her voice is like the equivalent of drinking lemon juice. It’s bitter, soured, and ultimately- unpleasant. 

You don’t even bother to look back at her, instead zeroing in on the steamy glasses. 

“So,” She starts, “I hope I didn’t fuck things up with you and Jake.” 

You snap your head to look at her, trying your best to display how uncomfortable you are in her presence. 

She’s so fake. Of course, she hopes she fucked things up. She manipulated you with the perfect words to turn on Jake. You continue to pull the glasses out of the dishwasher, lining them up on the counter to be put away.

“No things are fine. We talked it out. He said he’s done with all the temporary girls.” You glare back at her. 

Being petty is fun. 

“Aw, well I’m so glad to hear it babes,” She rests her hand on your shoulder and breezes past you out from behind the bar. “Oh and don’t worry, I closed out all my tabs.” 

The rage is filling in you. You felt brave at this moment, ready to settle any sort of anger you felt with her. 

“Mariella.” She stops to turn, just a few feet away from the counter. You stride over to the corner of the bar, separating you two with the counter. “What you did…” Your voice and bravery is starting to trail off when the reality of the situation was setting in, “What you did was fucked up. You knew I liked him before you did anything with him. When I finally got my chance you chose to be a backstabber and try to kill my dream. That’s not what friends do.”

Her face hasn’t changed through any of your words. A scowl is burned across her brow, “Who said we were friends?” 

Her words take you back. You thought you had been friends. You had worked at Fleets together for over a year now and had spent many nights together drinking and complaining about the shithole bar. Now she was denying it all? 

No. You can’t let her keep getting to you. You can’t let her make you second guess yourself anymore. 

“No, you don’t get to do that to me anymore Mariella. You don’t get to make me feel like shit. So what you had Jake first? So what you don’t want to be my friend? I am not jealous of you anymore, and you can’t make me feel second class just because your tits are bigger and you can seduce any of these losers in this bar. I won. I get Jake.” 

Mariella bursts out laughing, almost in tears. “Whatever! You won! Great for you. Hope you enjoy it all. Good luck with that mess of a human! I hope you’re very happy together.” 

She continues laughing to herself as she walks into the back office. 

That wasn’t the satisfying ending you wanted. 

You pull into a spot in front of the venue. The parking lot was dimly lit and full of cars. People lingered in front of the door, chatting, sharing cigarettes, waiting for something exciting to happen. 

The band had already been here for an hour or so setting up; probably having some pre-show drinks to loosen up. Even though they don’t go on for another twenty or so minutes, you decide it is better to leave earlier than to just sit idly waiting in your apartment. But now that you were here, and were early, you don’t want to go in until it’s time for their set to start. 

You feel your heart climbing into your throat. You truly didn’t think you would still get anxious over these things, but after everything that’s happened this week, it feels like walking on glass. 

You press your hands into your face and try to regulate the fear permeating through you. You try your best to flush it away, remembering you’re only here to support the band. You can’t let Jake’s jealousy control you forever. Whatever happens, happens. 

Jake walks through the back and heads towards the bar. As soon as he sees you a huge smile appears on his face. Was he actually happy to see you, or was he just thinking about what you both did just hours before? Either way, you smile back. The cheerful appearance of him is making you blush. Everything starts to feel real like never before. 

The back office door opens again and you see Mariella waltz out to the back. Chris appears in the doorway, making direct eye contact with you. Shit. Did she just tattle on you for being mean to her? Why does every interaction with her feel like high school all over again? 

Chris brings his hand up to wave you towards him, one finger inching in his direction. An audible sigh escapes your lips. Jake jostles to the bar and hops over the counter with incredible agility. 

“What the fuck?” You ask, completely perplexed at his insane amount of energy. 

He laughs, knowing how strange his action must have been. He walks past you, quickly uttering, “You make me feel like a whole new man baby.”

You would be inclined to jump onto him and mount him right there if you knew your boss wasn’t also staring you down from the other room. You try your best to acknowledge Jake, while still slipping away. 

“Oh good, you needed a new personality,” You joke, slipping out from the bar, “One sec, I’ll be right back.” 

“Screw you!” He sarcastically jeers from the POS system. 

You awkwardly jog over to the office door, letting yourself in. Chris is already back in his seat at his corner desk. He looks defeated, and well, really annoyed. His hand is sprawled across the right side of his face, holding his shaking head. You close the door behind you, trying to make him aware of your presence. 

“Sit,” he barks, pointing at the spare dining room seat opposite to him. 

You gingerly sit down on the cold wooden chair and try to sit up straight, holding yourself as professionally as you can. 

“What the fuck is going on?” His words cut the air. 

What situation is he even talking about?

“With?” You ask, surveying for him to give you more. 

Chris sighs and leans back into his chair, resting his clasped hands over his beer belly, “Listen, you’ve always been a fine employee. You show up, you do what you need to, and you leave. But I don’t deal with fucking drama. I don’t deal with he said she said, she’s dating him, he’s into her, bullshit. That’s why I put the rules in place.”

Ohhh what the fuck? What the hell is he even talking about? Mariella totally fucking tattled on you- to your boss of all people! 

You angle yourself forward, your face painted with confusion, “Okay, first off, I don’t know what to say to any of that, second of all, what rule?” 

“The no dating other employees rule.” The what? Chris continues, “Jake knew about it... I had a conversation with him about it. And yet we still have bullshit! And I really don’t fucking want bullshit.”

“Hold on, hold on,” You brace your hands out, trying to slow Chris, “Why am I just hearing of this rule now?”

Chris drops his hands, “I dont know. I just… I thought you were a lesbian.”

Your face drops and utter shock goes through your body. “Chris-”

“What? You were always hanging around Mariella and never had a boyfriend and only flirted with the ladies.” He throws his hands up trying to save this conversation he has so clearly lost. 

“Chris… Just because I’m not trying to suck face with the forty-year-old alcoholics out there, does not mean I’m a fucking lesbian.” You bury your face in your hands, completely over this entire interaction, “You have to tell all the employees the rules. Even if I was gay, what if I dated one of the other girls here?” 

“Listen… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? But bottom line, Jake knew.”

“Okay,” You trail off, “So…? Sounds like you’re getting at something else here Chris.”

Chris squares himself, leaning his hands into his thighs, “Well… Either you two,” he motions with hands a cut across his throat, “You know, end it. Or, one of you has to go. We’ve had struggles with this in the past. You both are great bartenders, but that can all change when you start getting into little spats and fighting in the bar.”

Little does he fucking know… 

“So, you want me to end my relationship, which I don’t even know if it is a real relationship or not-”

Chris moans, “God. I don’t care what it is-”

“Or you want me to quit?” The words feel sour and morose. 

Chris stands up, trying to get out of the unpleasant exchange. He walks over to rest his hand on your shoulder. A sad, looming expression dawns on him. 

“Doesn’t have to be you, kid.”

He goes to open the door, letting the light of the bar flood through the office. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. A slight choke sits at the back of your throat. Everything that has to do with Jake and you always is a fucking disaster.

Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can’t you just have it easy? Why can’t Jake just be yours and you be his? What does everyone have against you two? Is this a bigger sign that maybe he just can’t be with you?...

“Chris,” You beg, “Can I just talk to him for a few minutes?”

He shakes his fist and tries his hardest to let go of any frustration, “Fine, but make it quick I hate that regular.”

And the same as he did with you, he waves Jake over to the office. Jake tilts his head like a sad puppy and quickly jogs out from behind the bartop. He strolls into the hallway, and Chris brushes past him to go take his place. 

The tears are still welling in your eyes and you can’t quite regulate your breathing. The frustration and anger you feel for Chris’ stupid policy is mixing with the dissatisfaction of Jake once again withholding information from you. 

“Sunshine?” He asks confused. 

You grab his hand and pry him into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Sit,” You plead. 

Now the roles were reversed. You try your best to compose yourself and consume all the sad emotions that were begging you to crawl out. 

Jake sits in the same chair as you did, “What?-”

“Jake.” Breathe. Don’t take it too far, “Did Chris inform you of a certain… No dating other employees rule?” 

He shifts awkwardly in the chair, obviously trying to avoid the interrogation, “Well, yeah, but-”

“Please… Please don’t say we’re not in one, because that will fucking kill me right now.” Your voice is breaking.

He sinks back into the chair. For the first time, he seems… hurt.

“I wasn’t going to-”

“Jake if you knew, why didn’t you tell me? Now I’ve got Chris telling me one of us has to quit or we… or we… you know…”

He runs his hand through his hair and turns to face you head-on. He reaches out for your hands, and you half haphazardly return them into his grasp. 

“I didn’t want you to not consider us an option. So I didn’t say anything.”

You take your hands back from him, quickly planting them on your hips, “So you think putting my job at risk is perfectly fine? All this behind my back shit is getting pretty old Jake, and we’ve barely even been at this a few weeks.” 

He drops his head, catching the crown of his hair in his fingertips, “What the hell did you want me to do?” 

You throw your hands in the air, fumbling to even find the right answer, “I don’t know Jake! But we could’ve tried to figure this out together before I was once again blindsided by something you hid from me! Because of your mistakes, Mariella came tattling to Chris-”

He lifts his head, staring you down. His eyes are sincere yet concerned. A look you’ve never seen from him, “She what?” 

“I told her to fuck off. I finally stood up for myself and she came in here to tattle.”

Jake closes his eyes and clenches his fists softly, “She’s not the kind you attack with words sunshine.”

You shake your head, not even believing that he’s telling you that you shouldn’t have stood up for yourself, “Jake that’s beside the fucking point. Because of you now I have to choose between walking away from my job or you.” 

“You’re not seriously going to choose are you?” 

“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice. I don’t want to. I want you, but I also need a fucking job. And right now you’ve pissed me off again.” 

“Again, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Do you wish I did nothing at all?”

“No,” You retort, quick to remind him you did want this. 

He rises to his feet, trying to establish some sort of control in the conversation, “Okay, so what then? You knew we were going to be all or nothing, or at least I did. I knew I had to have you, I didn’t think the rule was going to be held up.” 

“Jake.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, “No, don’t fucking choose. What’s he going to do?”  

“Jake I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire one of us if we don’t pick. And we’re both on thin ice here so it will ultimately be whoever he likes more…” 

Jake shakes his head and drops his hands off of you, beginning to turn towards the door, “Can’t believe it. That you’re even considering it. After everything.” 

You grab his wrist, “After what Jake? After you finally decided you wanted to be with me? After I sat waiting months for you? After you fucked my friend? After you avoided this whole situation? After what?”

He snaps his wrist back to his side and reaches for the door handle. He shoots one last distraught glance back before heading back out into the hallway. 

It was about halfway through their set before Josh jumped off the stage to rush to you. He had been waiting for the right moment to run over to you all night. Shooting you happy glances, singing to you from the stage, and even ushering Jake over to the side you were sitting on so you could see him better. 

He waited until the worst possible moment to rush over to you, during one of Jake’s solos. 

He was worse than you when it came to pushing Jake. You could push him and get away with it, you knew it was all an act. But with Josh… He thought it was all a fun game, not realizing later that you would have to defend his actions like they were your own. 

Josh grabs your hand to lift you out of your seat, so eager to get you on your feet. The chair that you previously occupied clatters behind you. The crowd is completely distracted by Josh, and well, you. He swoops you close to him and soon your feet are moving along to the beat, jumping around with Josh in a flurry of happiness. 

Usually, you only had the enjoyment of watching live music, never participating in it. Here, you were now a part of this moment with them, and the one you wanted most to be happy for you, would clearly find this all too much. 

Josh grabs your hand and spins you around him, moving charismatically, so smoothly; quite romantically. If people were looking, they might think that Josh was the one you were with. Jake’s playing gets more technical with each moment, trying to win back the crowd’s attention, but everyone is watching his twin and you, swirling in a passionate dance on the bar floor. 

A smile is lit across your face; you’ve never had this much fun before, ever. There’s just enough whiskey in your system to completely evaporate any fear, or really notice the crowd cheering you on. You lower your hand across Josh’s waist, and he matches you, squeezing into your hip. You both circle each other, intoxicated in the glow of the moment. 

Jake’s solo slowly clamors to an end, and Josh realizes his cue to run back to the stage. He drops his hand from you and places a fragile kiss on your cheek before rushing back up to the mic. 

The crowd erupts in drunken cheers and you turn to notice the gathering they had made around the floor. They’re on their feet, clapping, enthusiastic about the thrilling moment. You awkwardly curtsey to the group and make your way back to your seat, picking it back up off the ground. 

The spirit of the moment quickly is burned when you look up and see Jake is not matching your excitement. A looming, angered glare is searing through any happiness you feel. He’s barely paying attention to the music, instead, steaming on the side of the stage. Gripping the guitar so tightly you fear it would break with any tighter hold. 

Shit. 

“Chris, can… I’m sorry can we just work this shift and figure it out tonight? I just want to do my job right now.”

Another classic Chris grunt and he waves you off, “Go. It’s gotta happen though. One of the choices.”

“Yes, yes I know,” You grovel, hoping that if you can’t come to a decision, he won’t be picking you to go. 

You rush back over to the bar and continue the chores you had left earlier. Of course, Chris didn’t bother picking up any slack, and neither did Jake. 

The thoughts are unraveling in your mind now. The control you had tried to exert is slowly withering away. Even though you had felt far more tough lately, you still couldn’t completely swallow the soft, emotional side of you. 

What the hell kind of choice is this? Lose your job or lose the boy you fought everything and everyone to have? Why does the universe fucking hate you?! 

Your body felt weighed, completely exhausted by all the drama and all the decisions. If you didn’t have responsibilities outside of this relationship, you would instantly pick Jake, but you can’t risk not having any income. You were a girl alone. No rich mommy or daddy to come to save you when you needed it most. You had given all of that up. No friends that could save you, they were miles away back home. You hate to admit it, but you were truly alone here. 

Sure, you had people, but no one that would be willing to take in a stray. Jake had his brother, he had more than you. It wasn’t fair to compare, but you were thinking it. 

He doesn’t seem to want to give you up either, at least that’s how it feels. He was heartbroken; defeated in that office. Just as sad as you. 

“Coming through-” Jake strides past you, holding onto three drinks, carefully balancing them in his hands, until he’s not. 

You turn to move, not realizing how close he was to you and knock your arm into his, sending the drinks flying over the front of your shirt. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim. 

Jake matches your sentiment, “Oh, shit.” 

You quickly run to grab a rag from the shelves behind the counter, trying to soak up the sticky liquid as fast as you can, before any stains set in. 

“Foul!” Yells one of the nasty regulars.

“Dude, shut up.” Jake retorts, rushing over to assist you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“It’s fine.” You don’t mean to be harsh, but in that moment all you could do was try to get him away. You didn’t want to think about him, about the situation, about any of it. You just wanted to get back to work. 

“This is Danny, and this is Sam,” Josh introduces the two other members of the band. 

You all gathered around the corner booth at the bar after the set. Jake had been avoiding you, taking his time to pack all of his things. The other boys were far less concerned with cleaning up, and headed straight to the bar, well straight to you. 

“Ohhh, so you’re the mysterious girl we’ve been hearing all about, huh?” Sam crosses his arms over his chest, surveying you, trying to be funny. 

“Oh yes, I’m very mysterious,” You joke back. 

Josh chuckles, “She isn’t one bit mysterious Sam, Jake is just always very vague with his lover’s darling. He doesn’t like to kiss and tell.”

You swallow back a large gulp of Jameson Ginger, “Oh yeah. I’m well aware.” 

Danny echoes into the conversation, trying to eagerly get in, “So how long have you two?...”

“Not long.”

“Oh,” Sam ponders, “I thought. Well, he’s been talking about a bartender for a-”

Josh shoots Sam a concerned look, trying to shut him up.

He knew? Did he know about Mariella? 

“Oh no, I’m not the only bartender,” Your comment is snide and condescending. You hope it’s not making a fool of yourself, but you want everyone to know the games Jake likes to play. 

You feel the alcohol finally hitting you now, maybe you didn’t realize it before, but standing with them for that short few moments was turning your mind into rubber. 

“Sam, c’mon. He’s your brother, you know how he is.” Danny whispers to Sam. 

Shit. Not another brother. 

“Was.” You correct, holding your finger out at Danny, “Let’s hope it’s was.” 

“Yes Mama,” Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, he turns to face the boys, “We like her, so we’re going to hope it’s ‘was’.”

“Where did he even go?” You ask, slurring your words slightly. 

Sam shrugs his shoulders, and is the first to sit in the booth, “I don’t know but I’m not waiting around for him to have any fun!”

“I like your thinking!” Josh exclaims, jumping in the booth beside Sam. 

Danny corrals on the other side of Sam, and Josh pats the empty seat next to him. Fuck. 

You cautiously slide into the booth next to Josh, trying to leave ample space between the two of you. 

The boys are like classic best friends. Danny and Sam seem to have a great bond, completely forgetting the fact that they aren’t blood brothers. They act like they’ve known each other their whole life. Their outfits are almost matching, both in patterned jeans and snug-fitting plain shirts. Their hair is just about the same length, except Danny’s is curly and wild, and Sam’s is sleek and flowing; similar to Jake's.

Josh is clearly the eccentric one of the group, sporting some sort of animal skin vest and low-rise dark wash jeans. He has on so much jewelry it jingles with each movement he makes. He’s practically wearing a tambourine with all the clangs. 

They all speak amongst themselves, raving about the set, the crowd, parts they think they nailed, and parts they want to work on more. It was a nice break for you to just enjoy being there with them, getting to know them just by watching. You were picking their brains without them even realizing that you were doing so. 

The two brothers fake-bickered with each other. Similar to how Josh and Jake would torment each other, but in a much more playful and innocent manner. You could see Jake in both of them, in different ways. Josh, well because they were twins, they shared eerily identical expressions. Josh just carried all of them in a more lighthearted way. Sam, on the other hand, you could see Jake’s sass within him. 

Just as you are finally ready to find a way to sneak into their fun, a presence joins you at the booth. You can feel the heat radiating off of him as he slides into the spot next to you, pushing everyone further down in the booth. His hand reaches over to your thigh, grasping it tightly, marking his territory. 

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grits through labored breaths. 

“Welcome!” Josh roars, “Glad to finally see you joining us!”

“Well, someone had to talk to the manager- who by the way, was very impressed by our performance. He wants us back next month.” Jake says these words as if they aren’t even exciting at all. 

“Oh! That’s awesome!” You cheer, looking around at all the boys. 

Their faces light up with victory, and they immediately start cheers-ing each other. 

Josh nudges your shoulder, “It was most definitely our dancing Mama! That energy got the whole crowd going! You’re our good luck charm.” 

You blush at Josh’s kind words, “Wherever you guys go, I’ll be there to cheer you on…” 

You drop your hand to the table, showing the boys you’re in this with them. They all take turns grabbing your arm and showing their appreciation. 

“Yeah, they really loved you.” Jake sneers. 

The sarcasm is lost on Sam, who pipes up, “Yeah they were all cheering for you guys! It was awesome, they stayed standing the rest of the set!”

Danny nudges Sam and whispers in his ear. Danny is like Sam’s conscious, warning him of all the sourness that is happening at the table. Sam awkwardly smiles. 

Jake pulls your drink from your loose grip and finishes the remainder of it. You shoot him a disgusted glance, furrowing your brow harder than you thought you possibly could. 

The boys all sit in silence, watching this awkward interaction.

Josh is quick to break the ice, like always, “So next time, maybe we can coordinate something? A little moment just for us?”

You turn to him, trying to warn him not to say that in front of Jake. But it’s too late for that. Jake grips your thigh, hard, nearly breaking through your jeans. 

“It’s not her band.” He snaps. 

“Yes Jake, I know it’s not my band,” You crack. 

“I liked your dancing!” Danny encourages, “You were really good!”

You grin back at Danny, thanking him with your expression. 

Josh jumps back into his own conversation, “Ok, but imagine, if we did that spinning thing again, but we lined it up with-” 

“Maybe you can take up one of your solos to dance with her.” Jake is being completely rude. You know the cause of it all. You know why he’s so ill-mannered. You try your best to forgive him but know there’s too much brash to go unnoticed by the others. 

“Josh, let’s think about this another time, okay? Let’s enjoy the victory of the night for now,” You turn to Jake, “Jake, we were just playing around okay?”

Jake rolls his eyes and leans back into the booth. He takes his hand from your thigh and rests both of his wrists on the table, fiddling with the callouses on his fingers. Josh nods his head and finally gets the point. 

Danny jumps up from the booth, excusing himself to go grab some more drinks. The table’s vibe has completely changed, instead of excited conversation, it’s mute. Sam is paying attention to the music playing over the speakers, tapping along to the beat. Josh is trying to get his drink down as fast as he can. And Jake… Is being Jake. 

His mood has been absolutely horrible. All because you chose to have fun. How rude of you.

“Hey,” You poke at him, “You don’t need to be like this right now. You have so much to celebrate!” 

“Oh yeah, let me celebrate that my girlfriend wants to be around everyone here but me.” He growls under a low breath. 

“Jake,” You comfort, “I came here for you, I’m excited for you.” 

“No.” Jake raises himself, and turns his head, angling towards you, “I do believe Josh, is the one that invited you. And if I’m not mistaken, you two were the ones dancing during my solo. Oh and also, it wasn’t you that came to see me after I finished up, it was the drunk old bar manager.” 

“Jake…” This time it isn’t you trying to calm him down, it’s Josh. He’s protecting you. 

“Fuck you Josh, you do this shit on purpose, trying to piss me off.” 

The tension is starting between the two, and you’re quite sure those heavy sips weren’t helping the situation at all. 

“Hey! Need I remind you, who was the one who-”

“Shut up.” 

You glance your head between the two of them, confused. Jake drops his head and turns away from Josh. Josh swirls the ice around in his cup, trying to avoid eye contact with you. 

“Josh…” You pry, “What did you do?” 

“Don’t,” Jake interjects, trying to hold off Josh. 

What the hell was going on? What sort of fucked up twin telepathy was happening. 

“No, no,” You scold, “Maybe I should ask what the fuck you did Jake? Huh?” 

Sam slowly tries to crawl out of the booth, avoiding whatever is about to go down. 

Josh crosses his arm, trying to yield to Jake, “He did nothing.” 

“Okay?” Your voice is shaky, trying to understand if this even involved you. This drunk version of you was trying any way to find out more. “Clearly someone did something.” 

Jake lifts his head, staring down Josh, almost pleading with his eyes to keep quiet. 

“Josh…”

You turn yourself to block Jake’s eyeline, lining yourself up with Josh. 

“Is it about me?” You ask, imploring. Hoping that his answer would be no. 

Josh sighs and drops his arms, bracing himself on either side of his legs. He takes a long breath. 

His silence confirms it all for you. 

Jake echoes in your ear, “Don’t worry about it.”

You scowl back to Jake, “No more hiding shit Jake.” 

He reaches his hand up to his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Before he even has a chance, Josh lets it spill out. 

“Jake wasn’t going to go back to you.” 

He could have stabbed you in that moment and the feeling would have been the same. 

“Fuck! Josh!” Jake yelps. 

Your heart drops. Jake fighting him is proof enough that what Josh said was true. You turn to Jake, tears welling in your eyes. 

“What…” You push Jake’s shoulder, “the fuck,” another push, “does that mean?”

You feel your whole body shaking with anxiety. The alcohol is climbing up your throat; tears starting to fall from your eyes. 

Josh grabs your hand, trying to prevent you from hitting Jake any further. 

“Mama, listen. He just didn’t think you wanted him anymore. I went over to talk to him about it and told him he should try again.” 

You turn to snap at Josh but feel horrible even thinking about being mean to him. He was honest with you, trying to help. 

“So, but…” You feel absolutely defeated, “So if you hadn’t said anything he wouldn’t have…?”

Jake turns completely away from the two of you, dropping his head into his hands, trying to breathe through it. 

“You fucking ruin everything, Josh. You always get to be the sun. You always get to save the day.” 

You turn to Jake, cautious to defend Josh, “Jake you need to tell me what happened.” 

Jake doesn’t turn back to you. Josh tries to grab your hand one last time, silently asking you to go easy on Jake. 

“Why wouldn’t you come back?” Your voice is breaking completely now. The rush of emotions is piling through you, breaking your heart all over again. 

Knowing he didn’t want to come back felt like it was all your fault. You were the one who turned him away before knowing the entire story. But also, you had a right to be upset. The juxtaposition of it all was fucking with you. Who was right? 

Jake is still silent, holding himself up in his palms. You turn back to Josh, begging for any sort of help. His hands rest on his cheeks, realization setting in of what he did. He went too far. Twins weren’t meant to be this damaging to each other. The public tension of it all was awkward, pushing each other too far. 

“What’d I miss!” Danny perkily walks over to the table, holding everyone’s choice of drinks. Sam’s trying to hide behind him, knowing what situation he left. 

You pout through the tears, showing Danny that he didn’t miss anything too good. 

You rise from your seat, standing on the wooden bench, climbing over Josh to leave the booth. You pat the two best friends on the shoulder, apologizing through silent chokes of your tears. 

Sam gingerly hands you your next round, placing the glass in your hand, and patting your knuckles. You awkwardly smile back at him, thanking him for the drink. 

You take a hefty swig and place the remainder of the drink in front of Jake, “Here… Unlike you, I don’t like putting good things to waste.”

The boys all wince through their teeth, and Jake jolts up to scowl at the boys. 

You secretly run past the booth and into the dark bathroom in the back of the bar. 

The shift is by no means easy. The two of you are in the worst rhythm you’ve ever had. Even on your first shift together, it was like magic. You could almost sense each other coming, you were good at trading off tasks. Tonight…. Was not that. 

Jake screwed up three orders, and you took two more drinks to the chest. Each time exclaims were made between the both of you, and patrons took it upon themselves to call out. The understanding for your bodies that you had just hours earlier was completely gone, completely out of sync. 

Usually, it would just be you struggling with your own thoughts, but you could tell the weight of the situation was sitting heavy on Jake. You had left things in a horrible, but justified place. You didn’t exactly feel bad for what you said, because, well it was the truth. So what Jake had to give up a booty call? You were the one that got the shit end of the stick every time. 

The bathroom was full of women. They were all slightly older than you, and mostly concerned with their friends who were far too drunk, or paying attention to how their makeup was holding up. 

You snuck through them, trying to find the one empty stall. You closed the door behind you and quickly locked it, stowing yourself away. The echoes of their voices melted with the loud music vibrating on the walls. 

Fuck.

What the hell? 

He couldn’t even look at you. 

He couldn’t even admit it. 

Why wouldn’t he come back? 

Well… You did kind of end that last night on bad terms. During that entire week, you wanted to run back to him; but you didn’t. He just needed a push. But what if he never got that push? What if he never showed up to tell you what actually happened… 

He never even tried to explain himself at the bar. He just kept trying to get you going. He can’t admit when he’s wrong. Does he have to be persuaded into being nice? Not entirely. Not all the time… 

Chris is about ready to lock up. He does his usual survey of all the surfaces, walking laps around each table, around the counters, really just pretending to look at everything. There really weren’t any expectations for the cleanliness of each table. He was actually just waiting for one of us to say something to him. For one of us to have decided. 

It was the stupidest fucking rule known to man. It’s a bar. People are bound to start fucking each other. Thats life. 

Jake and you had not broached the subject any further. There was no time and no further discussion to be had yet. It was the worst decision for either of you to make. It was utterly ridiculous. You didn’t expect Jake to give up his job either and almost started to believe that this was some sort of ending.

You tried not to think about it too much. Tried not to let that reality set in until you knew it for a fact. 

One last swipe of the counter, and you had completely cleaned up. Jake on the other hand was sweeping the floors, trying not to clean up in the same area. You try your hardest not to keep staring at him, but you want so badly for him to look at you. You want to figure this out… together. 

He places the large broom at the corner of the bar and strides over to Chris. You’re watching it play out in front of your eyes like a movie. You pretend to be distracted at the POS, but sneaking glances over your shoulder. 

Chris runs his hand over Jake’s shoulder and gives him a firm shake. Jake drops his head and nods. Reaching up to pat Chris’ hand. And just like that it’s over. 

What… What happened? 

Jake strides out of the bar, avoiding your eye contact, and slowly disappearing into the hallway. 

Oh, what the fuck? 

This is it. This is the end. Jake is giving you up. This wouldn’t be a romance novel. He wouldn’t run to you and lift you up, he wasn’t going to kiss you like no one was watching. He was just going to walk away, again. 

You throw your hands up, staring down Chris, trying to emulate ‘what the fuck’ with your body language. 

Chris mopes over to the counter, dragging out the moment as long as possible. He plops himself down on the stool in front of you, clasping his hands on the bar. 

“Go home. See you on Monday this week, kid.” 

So wait… He just… 

“Wait… What the fuck just happened?” You’re completely flustered, almost not believing what this means. 

“Jake quit. Go home. Talk to him.” 

TAGLIST (ILY GUYS!!!) Sorry if I missed anyone!

@gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @heckingfrick @gvfpal @sanguinebats @giraffehippy @anythingforjtk @lipstickitty @pinkandsleepy1934 @gretavansara @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @milkgemini @violet-hayes

[chansabsfanclub]

BangChan NSFW Alphabet

genre : suggestive smut word count : 1212 warning : suggestive and some smutty content A/N : if you enjoy my work, please like and reblog so it can reach more people, and if you want me to do another member please feel free to send me a request!

Aftercare : 

Chan isn a very sweet person, he's always looking after other people, there's no exception when it comes to the person he loves.  After you finish the deed, he would do or get you anything you need.  Run a bath for the two of you to relaxe and clean up, get you both some snacks to eat while you watch a movie and cuddle, and eventually fall asleep together.

Body : (his favourite part of his and your body)

He loves his abs, he works on the all the time and is very proud to show them off to his partner and feel them touch them.  On you he loves your hair, p;laying with it and holding it up, back and to the side.  He loves brushing his hand through your hair as well.

Cum : 

Unless he's wearing a condom he will pull out when he finishes, cumming on your stomach, he'll promptly wipe it up though since he doesnt want you to feel dirty from it if that makes sense.

Dirty Secret : 

For the most part Chan likes very loving, vanilla sex.  But he secretly wants to have a rough session every once in a while, maybe use some bondage and try out some bdsm things, but nothing to the extent of causing you pain.

Experience : 

I feel like Chan doesn't have a lot of experience when it comes to these things, so he's always learning new things every time you guys do it.

Favourite Position:

Chan's favourite position is doggy style.  He can go as fast as he can and it feels the best for him, and his partner.  He also enjoys seeing their ass clap against his thighs, the site itself makes him want to cum.

Goofy :

Chan likes to have fun during sexy times, he likes to make you feel comfortable and cared for and if one of you makes a weird sound he'll ease your embarrassment with laughter.  Although, during certain times he does like to be serious and focuses on showing you all his love.

Hair : 

Chan doesn't mind hair at all, he prefers to keep himself clean cut but not completely hairless.  

Intimacy :

He gets very passionate when it comes to sex.  He gets into the zone and does his hardest to make his partner feel not only pleasure, but loved as well.  He doesn't goof around when he's in the moment having sex, but afterwards he'll giggle and pull them in tightly for cuddles.

Jerks off :

Chan only really jerks off when he's super stressed.  Once or twice a week, but he doesn't go crazy.  He's very busy so there's not much time to do it anyways, but if he's working late in his studio and the thought of his partner comes to mind he would pause to relieve some of his stress.

Kinks :

HUGE dominance kink, size kink, choking kink and control kink.  He's soft natured, but once he's in the bedroom he becomes a beast.  He likes to experiment with new kinks and to see what pleases his partner and himself.  He loves being in control though and seeing his partner submit to him.

Location :

He prefers the privacy of a bedroom versus public sex.  He likes to spend his time with his partner, taking their time to slowly reach an orgasm together and really enjoy their intimate time.  The only other place would be his office if the door was locked and he was really horny and desperate.

Motivation :

Music.  Chan loves music, it's his profession.  If he hears a sensual song or his partner singing beautifully he could get turned on in a second.  Music playing in the background is an essential during sex for him, he uses it to help control his pace and to create a more sensual environment.

No :

His biggest turn off is pain.  He has a choking kink but he would never actually hurt his partner.  If they asked him to spank them, hit them, bite them or anything that would cause them pain he would stop immediately and step away.  He could never cause harm or pain to his partner.

Oral :

Chans not too big on oral, he would give his partner oral if they asked, but he's not big on it.  He prefers hands, using them to give his partner pleasure and to be pleasured.

Pace :

Like I said before, he likes to listen to music and match his pace with the music.  He prefers a slower harder pace though, reaching as far as he can and feeling every inch of his partner.

Quickie :

He doesn't like them.  He prefers long intimate sessions, quick sex just to get off isn't too appealing to him.  If his partner really wanted a quickie he would do it though, he just doesn't like them that much.

Risk :

The only risks he's into are trying out new kinks.  He'd never risk being walked in on or seen in public, he likes to keep those things private, so he's not a very risky person.

Stamina :

Chan has great stamina, he could go for hours if his partner wanted to, whatever it takes to get them to orgasm.  He enjoys sex and wants it to last for a long time.  He however doesn't have enough stamina for multiple sessions.  One long session is good for him.

Toys :

He has a vibrator or two for his partner, anything to help them reach a climax.  They also are great for foreplay to get his partner riled up, as a dominant he will use anything to make his partner cum, wether that be vibrators or penetration.

Unfair (teasing) :

He likes to tease as a way of foreplay.  Slow make out sessions, a little touching and then retreating to tease his partner, getting them excited for sex.  Once he gets to the actual sex he stops teasing and goes into a serious mode.

Volume :

Chan likes top keep his own volume to a minimum, he likes hearing his partner moan and whine during sex and he gets off to the sounds they make while being intimate.  

Wild card :

Hair pulling.  It's not something he would normally be interested in, but one time when his partner and him were going at it they pulled his hair and he groaned and finished in that very moment.  It's a secret that he tries to keep, and his partner likes to tease him with it, while they're out they'll pull his hair slightly to turn him on, and he can't do anything about it.

X-ray :

"Y' know what else is big?"  Famous words of Christopher Bang Chan.  He's probably average size when fully hard, around 6.5 inches, but with girth.  He has good girth.

Yearning (sex drive) :

His sex drive isn't too high, he doesn't feel the need to have it every day, but it does increase when he's stressed out.  He's not too horny, but he'd like to have sex at least once a week, he like's to make his partner feel loved in that way.

Zzz (sleep) :

He waits for his partner to fall asleep first before falling asleep himself.  He'll stroke their hair and kiss their cheek and head and humm them songs till they pass out, then he'll fall asleep.

[princesscolumbia]

Was originally going to DM but I saw those were closed, I have a sister/sibling who uses she/they and femme/neutral terms interchangeably. She's been unable to transition where we live because she's a minor but she's turning 17 in a few months so her 18th birthday is coming up. I want to start saving up information and advice and help for her so when she turns 18 I can pass it along: I already plan to take her on a shopping spree trip and I know she's planning on starting hormones, are there any tips or advice you have for her? She doesn't have social media for mental health reasons but they stay inside a lot too (they're a hardcore gamer, like, entering competitions to win cash and winning gamer) so I'm not sure that they're hearing much from trans elders (which is why I'm trying to form an information stash)

I'll offer the same advice I'd give myself if I had a chance to go back and tell this to my then-17 year old self. It'll get a little dark, but it's the single most valuable bit of advice I'd be able to offer that poor, abused transgirl in my own past, and may be the best thing your sibling could hear:

Safety is good, but never sacrifice your mental health for the "safety" of your situation. I made the mistake of "waiting" for everything to be "ready" and everyone to be "okay" with my transition because it was "safe," all the while ignoring my own mental health, which in the long term turned out to be a greater threat to my safety than anything else.

Living your true, honest self for yourself is your greatest safety. You can have a roof over your head, warm and comfortable clothes to wear, and food on your plate, but if the cost of all those is denying who you are, that isn't "safe."

And you'll know it, too. Whether it's a parent you have to keep happy, a spouse you have to convince "it's not actually that big a deal," or an employer that refuses to make the workplace a safe environment for trans and queerfolk, the second they even suspect you're not cis-het like them, they'll have the power to control you and make your life miserable. It will be a slow, creeping control that will have you gaslighting yourself just to try and keep yourself from facing the horrible reality that you were complicit in your own oppression.

If there's a component of your safety that is merely a convenient facade that you know could be the crack in the dam, change it. Sooner than later. 18 years old will mean you're no longer subject to parents who might control you. It means the government can't default back to your parents if someone tries to force something on you.

It means you are now free to do what you need to do for you!

It's big, it's scary, and you will not be prepared. You'll be leaving behind a comfort zone for something so nebulous it will legitimately be your personal Undiscovered Country. But you'll find people there who will gladly mom(affectionate) you to death if you have a cough. You'll find folks who'll dad-joke you into the ground while they help you fix your car. You'll encounter people who will tell you weird-sounding advice like, "Always put your silverware in the dishwasher handle down," and you'll realize it makes sense only after you bite the bullet and try it.

(And things like "the vibe" and "cringe" will sound really stupid the older you get.)

You'll need to learn new ways to ask for help, and you'll need to relearn how to accept it. You'll need to figure out things nobody taught you growing up and it'll make you (possibly unreasonably) angry at your folks for not teaching it to you.

But the single best step of securing your safety for your transition is to transition. Don't wait for permission. Don't wait for people to tell you it's okay. Don't wait for the medical technology to be right or the perfect outfit to come along or the mentor who will make it all easier for you, because it's never easy.

Because here's the secret nobody has told you; nobody ever gets permission to be themselves. It's never okay for you to change the status quo that other people are happily leaving in place. Not only is the "perfect" transition the enemy of just doing the damn transition, but what you think you know about transitioning socially/medically/etc. is barely a drop in the bucket of what is actually known and just done that you'll swear it's some grand conspiracy to keep the knowledge from you. (It is and it isn't. It's called 'comp-het' and 'toxic masculinity' and 'unreasonable societal standards of femininity' and 'the patriarchy' and a whole bunch of other stuff that you don't actually know what it means until you've lived outside of the box that society placed you in, but nobody is 'doing it to you,' any more than they're doing it to everyone around you including themselves.) And the perfect outfit is out of season in a month, and the perfect mentor is also only human and WILL fuck things up.

Whatever it is, whether it's popping the question or transitioning or getting a new job or a new place to live or even just switching from cereal to smoothies for breakfast, just do it. If you know it's going to be good for you and you want to do it "eventually," do it now. Don't wait.

If you need permission, congratulations, you have it. If you need everything to be 'perfect,' congratulations, the most perfect moment is now. Shit's gonna happen anyway, might as well pick the shit that happens instead of letting life pick it for you.

Post-script: You're being incredibly brave. Accept the compliment and one day you'll understand how brave you're being and it will humble you how strong you really are.

(And wear sunscreen. That sounds dumb but you'll thank me later.)