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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery: Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb.

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue. “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

#my writing #my fics #smut fic #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee imagine #this has been half written in my drafts for much too long now #but im very happy to be able to finally post it!#just got one more thing to write for this advent countdown #which i'll try and knock off after i get back from church #so that its ready to go in the morning #anyway #hope ya'll like this #i might kind of love writing pretty dumb boys #blurb advent 2020

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sdv-queen · 4 years ago

Note

omg your seb stargazing post was so cute!! do any of the other bachelors/ettes have stargazing hcs??

Awww 😍 thank you so much and also thank you for asking!

I have several HCs about this, so hold on tight

Stargazing

Bachelors

Alex

He likes it fine because it’s pretty romantic (and we all know he’s a romantic at heart), and if you’re dating he’ll definitely like an excuse to put an arm over your shoulder

But his mom always used to take him stargazing, so it’s too bittersweet for him to really love it

(Poor sweetheart 😭❤️)

Elliott

This walking poem l i v e s for stargazing, especially if you’re a couple and it’s something sweet you can do together

(While you lie in the sand, your head on his arm, his finger reaching toward the sky and tracing made-up constellations...)

He likes to find his own constellations and make up stories about them

(It’s actually lowkey a great creative exercise)

He rarely finds the same story twice

(I also hc that he is mermay and used to swim to the surface to stargaze but that’s another story lol)

Harvey

His heart has always been in the sky, and one of the ways he dealt with not being able to become a pilot was studying the stars

When you go stargazing with him, after a while of silence to soak in the atmosphere, he’ll tell you a lot about the history of different constellations

So it’s like story time, but from the perspective of several ancient cultures he’s read about

(And if you’re dating, he’ll definitely want to hold your hand)

Sam

He likes it inasmuch as it’s a good chance to cuddle with his honey if you’re dating, but doesn’t think about it too deeply

(He loves it if you tell him stories, though)

(And especially loves it if he gets a chance to kiss your hair in the lulls in conversation)

Sebastian

Read all about him here ✨

Shane

He doesn’t get what all the fuss is about

But if it’ll make you happy, he’s down for joining

You lie together on that pier where he used to drink (and if you’re dating and try to hold hands with him, he’ll definitely blush but squeeze your fingers tight)

He won’t talk much, but he’ll remember how nature used to make him so depressed and yet so calm, because the universe didn’t care about him at all

But here with you - whether you’re dating or not - he doesn’t feel any of that old angst because he knows someone cares a whole lot

Victor

Victor likes stargazing, but he likes it because it’s ~meditative~

If you go stargazing together, he probably won’t want to talk much

But if you’re dating, you’ll probably feel something brush your hand after a while before he twines his fingers with yours

Bachelorettes

Abigail

Okay fam idk about you

But I hc that she’s the wizard’s daughter

And as such, she not only enjoys stargazing, she straight-up gets rejuvenated in their celestial glow (which would explain her amazing glowy skin amirite)

She loves being under the stars together, but she prefers to be active - dancing, practicing sword fighting, taking long walks

(And if you’re dating, you can expect to get a surprise kiss or two)

Emily

She loves alllll sorts of occult things

Including astrology

So she loves watching the constellations and planets slowly traverse the sky throughout the year

Expect lots of explanations about what influence different constellations will have on your mood

But even if you’re not into it, she’s so excited that you don’t have the heart to tell her to stop

(And if you’re dating, the way she squeezes your hand when she makes a point is definitely worth it)

Haley

She pretends to hate it because it’s something her sister loves so much

But deep down, she misses when things were simpler and she didn’t feel so alienated from her sister

So if you suggest it, she’ll moan and groan but go with you - as long as you promise to let her borrow your jacket if she gets cold

(She gets cold within like ten minutes lol)

And though she’d never admit she loved every second of it, the smile she’s trying to suppress betrays her

Leah

She likes looking at the stars, and she’ll often use the constellations she or Elliott make up as inspiration for her abstract sculptures

(They go stargazing together sometimes)

She’ll like going stargazing with you because she can talk through what she sees with you and ask for your opinions

You lie side-by-side in the grass by the lake for hours

Maru

She loooooves stargazing

(And as was suggested in the replies to the Seb post, it was definitely a great way for the two of them to bond)

And with her telescope, she can see them wayyyy better

And whether you’re a friend or something more, she loves to share that with you!

She doesn’t care as much about the stories, but will talk your ear off about the science

Which is just as endearing

Penny

She l o v e s the stars, because they’re like nature’s storybook

You think Harvey knows a lot about stars?

He’s got nothing on her

But unlike Harvey, Penny wont talk your ear off about them unless you ask

Mostly, she’ll like being with you instead of alone

If you’re dating, she’ll definitely try to hold your hand with the same shy smile you fell in love with

Sophia

She usually likes to spend her night reading manga or watching anime, safe indoors

But if you suggest stargazing together (so she won’t have to be alone), she’ll agree readily enough

If you’re dating, she’ll ask to hold your hand as you walk to the beach

She’ll tell you about some cool anime she’s seen that features stars or space or astrology, getting more and more excited with every sentence

And when she thinks she’s gone too far she’ll break off with a blush

(And ofc you will honestly assure her that this is the best night you’ve had in a long time)

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sincerelyreidburke · 5 years ago

Text

Taddy drabble!!!!!

Okay, remember this post from yesterday about how @hockeysometimes and I accidentally created 3 OC tadpoles for the frogs’ senior year? I accidentally ficced. And it got sort of long.

May I present, tadpole number one: Sebastián “Nando” Hernandez!!!! This started because I said, you know what, there should be a baby gay tadpole when Nursey and Dex are seniors and then they love and cherish him like their adopted child. Thus Nando was born. As promised, I’ll make a post telling you more about Nando and his fellow two tadpoles soon. For now, have this sickeningly soft random fluff, in which Nando comes across some gay shit going down at Annie’s between his captain and said captain’s assistant-captain-slash-best-friend.

Nando loves his classes.

He picked his schedule last spring, at the Samwell admitted students day, and, like, okay, he was a little nervous about it, because how are you supposed to pick classes for a major that determines your job for the rest of your life when you haven’t even graduated high school yet?— But. He did a good job. Because his freshman fall semester schedule is the shit.

Tuesdays are the best, and today is Tuesday, so his spirits are high. He gets out of Soc 101 at 10:30, and he has an entire, like, six hours before he even needs to start thinking about hockey practice. Hockey practice is one of the best parts of any day, by the way, because he gets to see his friends.

He can’t believe it. It’s the middle of October, and he still can’t believe it. Walking across Samwell’s main quad after class, he takes it all in. He’s really here. He’s really in college. He’s almost two thousand miles away from home, and he misses Mama and his sisters a whole boatload, but he’s here. He’s in college, and he’s studying sociology, and he’s playing D1 hockey, and he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.

He’s in such a good mood today, actually, that he thinks it necessitates Annie’s. He’s only been at Samwell for two months, but already he’s perfected his order. They make a mocha frappe with cinnamon that’s honestly the drink of the gods.

Okay, he reasons with himself. Annie’s it is. And then homework. Later. But first, Annie’s. He deserves this.

He’s going to gain his freshman fifteen solely because of Annie’s.

And then Dex will kick his ass. Nando isn’t scared of his captain, exactly; he’s been in enough settings with him to know that Dex is a really nice guy, and he’s been instrumental in welcoming Nando to Samwell. But he’s also seen him on the ice, fiercely debating linesmen on bad calls and getting in scuffles and doling out checks to the members of opposing teams with particularly hateful chirps. He’s a great leader. Nando just isn’t so sure he’d want to get on his bad side.

He just. He really wants to impress the seniors, okay? They’re, like, the coolest guys ever.

Nando reaches into his pocket for his phone, but there are no new messages. He checks his thread with his boyfriend, but Nate left him on read at 9:21 this morning and hasn’t gotten back to him yet— which he never used to do, really, not before Nando left for Samwell. He’s trying not to read into it too much. Nate is busy, after all. He’s at U of Arizona, much closer to home, doing big things. He doesn’t have as much time to text, and that’s okay.

Or— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.

It’s okay. He tucks his phone away. Nate will get back to him eventually. Even though the gaps between his replies have been getting larger… and larger… and larger.

He knew coming to college with a long-distance boyfriend would be hard, but. Jeez.

His team doesn’t know about Nate. Not really. He would be lying if he said that his decision to come play for Samwell wasn’t influenced at least a little by Eric Bittle and the 2016-17 team, being in the news so much for the first openly gay NCAA captaincy. He was reading the stories before he even got his acceptance letter. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more inspired by another hockey player.

And besides, this is Samwell. It’s one of the queerest colleges in the country, on top of the hockey team’s reputation for acceptance. So really, he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his new teammates he’s gay.

It’s just. Hockey is hockey. And Eric Bittle graduated.

He has some surviving memories from, well, an entire childhood of being a queer, Latino hockey player, and it wasn’t a fun time.

He’ll get there. Eventually.

And besides, he tells himself, he isn’t worrying about that today. Today he’s going to Annie’s, and getting a frappe. The sun shines on his face, and the trees are turning every color.

It’s a good day.

Nursey loves his boyfriend.

For a number of reasons, but especially right now. He’s about three sweet-talking sentences away from getting Dex to share a bite of his French toast. They’re tucked into the corner booth at Annie’s— their booth, really; they’ve staked a claim to it every time they come here ever since they got back to campus for senior fall. It’s tiny, and barely spacious enough for two 6’2 hockey players to squeeze themselves into, but Nursey sits across from him and their knees press together under the table, and all is right in the world.

“Look, babe,” Nursey says, spreading his hands out on the table. “All I’m saying is, that little crust right there with the powdered sugar—” He points to the bite of toast in question on Dex’s plate. “I’ve got my eye on it.”

Dex rolls his eyes at him. There’s a smile on his freckly face, and in the warm light of the dining room, he’s every autumn color imaginable, fiery red hair to plaid, maroon button-down to amber eyes like pools of sunlight. For the past three years, Nursey spent his entire friendship with Dex trying to train himself not to stare, to rid himself of the wants for a boy he never thought he could have. This summer, that changed. Now he can have him, does have him— so he can look. Why not look?

Dex is a fucking catch.

He’s pointing with his fork toward Nursey’s own plate. All that remains of what once was there are a few whole-grain breadcrumbs. “I don’t know if you’d noticed,” Dex says, “but you had your own food.”

“Will,” Nursey groans. “I’m still hungry. I just want to taste it.”

Dex cuts into his last stack of toasts, and Nursey glues his eyes to them. Annie’s does French toast right— brioche bread with just the right amount of egg wash, pan-fried and then dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with syrup. Nursey is pretty sure his mouth is watering.

And Dex is right. He did have his own food. But—

“It’s not my fault,” Dex continues, between bites of toast, “that you insist on getting hipster toast every time we come in here.”

Nursey puts a hand on his heart, like he’s been shot. “Dexy, avocado toast is part of my aesthetic.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dex sighs. “Why am I dating you?”

Nursey grins, rubbing his foot against Dex’s sneaker under the table. “Because you love me.”

Dex rests his cheek in one hand, and Nursey is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss each of his freckles, one by one. He watches Dex pass judgement over him, eyes lingering on him bemusedly, mouth curving up to the dimple on the left side of his face. For a few seconds, he’s quiet, and Nursey doesn’t break eye contact. He’s in love with that look in Dex’s eyes.

Then, finally, Dex stabs the crust Nursey has been eyeing with his fork, holds it across the table, and announces, “I hate you.”

“I know.” Nursey beams. Through the power of his charm, he’s getting exactly what he wanted. He knew it’d come to this, all along.

Dex feeds him the little nugged of powdered, syrupy crust, and it tastes just as overly sweet as the gesture is, and Nursey has never loved anything more. “Mmmm,” he groans as he swallows. “That shit is delightful. Thanks, baby.”

“You’re a sweet-talker,” Dex mutters, still grinning, as he returns to his plate to finish it off.

“But you fall for it,” Nursey points out. “Every time. So who’s whipped in this arrangement?”

“Both of us,” Dex replies. His cheeks are flushed pink, but his smile remains.

“I tend to agree,” Nursey says, then reaches for his free hand and takes it in his own. He pulls it across the table, then plants a kiss on each knuckle, plus one, two, three of his favorite freckles. Dex’s hand, like the rest of him, is covered in them. Nursey has written enough poems about them to fill a book.

In fact, he maybe feels one coming on right now. He tucks the idea into storage in his brain for later, when he’ll inevitably wind up scribbling all over a notebook in a pile of leaves outside the Haus for two hours before practice.

God, he fucking loves this place.

He presses Dex’s palm to his own face; Dex’s fingers curl into the touch and caress his cheek. “Ah, my Will,” he hums. “Where would I be without my stolen bites of your French toast.”

Dex points his fork at him menacingly. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “That was your ration for the day. This is my breakfast.”

“Hey!” Nursey beams, still holding his hand to his stubbly cheek. There are callouses all over Dex’s fingers. Before this, before Dex, he didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a pair of hands. “Did I say anything about asking for another piece?”

“No.” Dex mops up the last of his syrup with the very last piece of his toast. His eyes twinkle like the sunrise as he looks up at Nursey. “But I know you were thinking it.”

Nursey kisses the inside of his palm. “Rude.”

Dex laughs into his hand, smiling from ear to giant ear, and Nursey really fucking loves his boyfriend.

Annie’s is crowded.

It always is. Or at least that’s what Nando has inferred from his two months on campus. The line stretches almost, but not quite, to the door. He weighs the merits of long line versus mocha frappe— is it worth it?— but then watches two girls go by him holding their drinks, each with tall stacks of whipped cream atop them, and he decides, yeah. Definitely worth it.

So he waits in line. He should have texted Rhodey to ask if he wanted to come with him, but then again, Rhodey is still probably asleep. He’s pretty sure his roommate-slash-teammate is nocturnal.

The coffee shop is buzzing with students, a sea of maroon Samwell merchandise, groups of friends clustered around tables or piled into booths.

Nando grins at the scene. It’s such a postcard of college. Some are hunched over homework; others scroll through their phones or laptops, and still others are just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. There are art kids, and jocks, and fierce academic types, and— oh, wait— is that Nursey?

Nando squints. Yes, it is! There’s no mistaking that green hat. It sits atop his teammate’s familiar head of undercut curls; Nursey is in the back booth, and he’s— oh! He’s sitting across from Dex.

Nando almost waves at his teammates, but a.) they’re not looking at him, and b.)... something he’s never seen before, he realizes, is happening.

Because the thing is, they’re not looking at him, but they’re not looking at anything else, either. In fact, their eyes are all each other’s, as they sit mere feet apart across the small booth. Dex is resting his cheek in one hand, looking across the table at him, and Nursey is beaming at him, eyes crinkled and face soft, like— like—

— like he’s looking at the love of his life.

Nando widens his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels like he’s seeing something he isn’t supposed to be seeing. Nursey says something to Dex, who rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time. He proceeds to fork something off of his plate and hand the fork across the table to Nursey, who eats the bite of whatever Dex is offering clean off without hesitation.

Nando blinks.

This looks gay.

Really gay.

His theories are confirmed when, a few seconds later, Nursey picks up Dex’s hand and kisses it several times. Nando looks away, lest he catch one of their eyes, but then again, it’s not like either of them seem to be planning to look anywhere but at each other anytime soon. His awkward aversion of his gaze only lasts a second, because when he sneaks a glance back at them, he has to marvel at how soft Dex looks— his cheeks are freckled and pink, and he looks so at ease with Nursey, like he has no other care in the world. It’s an extension of the dynamic Nando has already observed between them— they’re best friends, and he knows this. He just had no idea that they were more than best friends.

Nando pauses in line. Logically, he knew that Nursey was queer. He’s open about it, proud of it, and he gave Nando and the other tadpoles the no homophobic bullshit, this is Samwell, have your teammates’ backs speech on day one of preseason. It was a breath of fresh air for Nando, and he’s sort of been looking up to him ever since.

But Dex?

At the table, Dex has his hand pressed to Nursey’s face, like it’s a prized possession. Nando has never seen that soft smile on his captain before.

“Hey.” Someone nudges him, very lightly, in the backpack from behind. “Dude, you can move up.”

“Oh.” Nando snaps out of it— the line has moved on without him, and he’s left a gaping, empty space in the middle of it. “Sorry,” he says to the person behind him, and then steps forward.

He can still see Nursey and Dex from his new spot in line.

His stomach turns. He misses Nate, watching them together.

His phone still has no new messages, just Read 9:21 AM.

But here are Nursey and Dex, in plain sight at Annie’s, canoodling— there is no better word for it— with each other, being a couple, despite all the odds, all the stereotypes, everything everyone thinks hockey players are supposed to be. Here are his captains, the team leaders, seniors, sharing something that even in this brief glance Nando knows is precious beyond words.

He wonders, for a split second, if he should say something, the next time he sees them. Tell him he looks up to them. That he’s grateful to feel so safe here.

But watching them with their breakfast, he decides against it. He’s seeing this before they’ve chosen to reveal it to him, and that should happen on their own terms.

Nursey throws his head back in a laugh. Dex grins like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.

No, Nando won’t say anything. This is something too precious to intrude on.

For now, he smiles, and he waits in line for his frappe.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #omgcp fic #poindextears writes #nurseydex #dexnursey #william poindexter #derek nurse #nandoooooooo #nobody touch me i'm still crying over captain dex #oc taddies

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domsdeadd · 5 years ago

Text

your first name is in the poems that i write

erwin absentmindedly strummed the guitar in his lap, his lip was trapped tightly between his teeth, his eyes were squeezed shut, and his brows were furrowed as he stared at the notepad in front of him.

“come to bed, erwin. please.” levi’s face was contorted into a look of worry, the longer he stared at his boyfriend the worse he felt. “you’ve been working on this bullshit for so long, you’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t sleep sometime.”

“so that’s what you think of them?” erwin snapped and pushed the guitar off of his lap. “i work my ass off trying to make my dream happen while simultaneously working a job to keep a roof over our fucking heads and you think it’s bull shit?” tears were welling in his eyes and levi sighed.

“‘win that’s not what i meant and you know it.”

“well it fucking sounded like it, i’m busting my ass over here and what’re you doing? you’re doing nothing! you’re doing jack shit!” erwin balled his fists and walked toward levi.

“you’re a fucking cunt, smith, you know that? i’m busting my ass taking college classes, cleaning the fucking house, and feeding your fucking dumbass so you can have a chance at your stupid fucking dream! fuck off with this shit saying i’m not doing anything. i’m doing way more than you fucking are!” levi pushed erwin roughly, causing the taller to trip and fall to the ground.

“fuck you!” erwin snapped as he pulled himself to his feet. he continued, louder now, “you won’t have to fucking cook for me anymore because i’m done with your bullshit. i’m going out, and when i come back you better not be in MY fucking apartment.” erwin grabbed the keys to his car and slammed the apartment door, not even bothering to clean up what he was doing before levi interrupted.

levi didn’t even bother trying to hold the tears back, he just let them fall as he walked over to see what erwin was working on that caused this whole mess in the first place. he picked up the notebook and the messy words scrawled onto the paper made him cry harder as he curled against the couch where erwin had been sitting just minutes before.

verse one?

you can't be by yourself, you can't be by yourself

they kept you in the dark in a room with nothing sharp

until you were well

you told me that you were so scared of what they know

but love isn't afraid, love is using your first name

in the poems that I wrote

lee, i know i’ve been working myself half to death lately, and i’m sorry. i just wanted this to be perfect. i’ve been working on this for a long time and i only have a verse to show for it, it’s pathetic.

i’m sorry i’ve been so busy, i just wanted it to be perfect for you because you don’t deserve anything less. i feel like the lines might not really make sense, so i’ll explain them after i’ve given this to you.

i’m sorry i only got a verse done, i could’ve done so much better but i just ran out of time. i love you, lee, and nothing will change that. i really don’t deserve you. thank you for sticking b-

that’s where the messy flow of erwins handwriting stopped, levi assumed erwin stopped writing when he walked in to ask him to come to bed.

levi’s eyes poured over the page once, then twice more before he moved to send erwin a text.

levi: i’m sorry...

read, 12:02 am

levi: i love you

message failed to send

wow so this hurt me to write, not as much as the last post did, but it still hurt. anyways, i didn’t write the lyrics, they’re from ‘to see you alive’ by flatsound. he’s really good & underrated so please listen to him !! thank u for reading & please send requests if you’d like !! have a great day! :)

#erwin smith headcanons #eruri headcanons #eruri #erwin smith x levi ackerman #levi ackerman #levi ackerman headcanons #levi x erwin #snk levi #aot levi #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #eruri au #eruri angst #erwin x rivaille #erwin x levi

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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago

Text

New Year with the band; Queen x reader

Hello people of Tumblr and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I was hoping to have had this done last night but time got away from me so I finished it this morning and so for my first fic of 2019 I present to you another part of my Rock Angel series. This is a pre-Rock Angel fic right here so this is counted before “Set it all free” when you the reader are still the intern to Miami. And after seeing Bohemian Rhapsody for the 2nd time last night, I just had to do this fic and I may have another chapter up soon, hopefully. Anyways I hope 2019 is a great year for everyone and that everyone stayed safe after last night and are taking care of themselves post-New Year celebration.

Warnings: None except for INSANE FLUFFY FEELS.

Taglist *open*:

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@onebigfangirlworld

@mr-badguymercury

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

_____________________________________________________

*December 31st, 1980*

This has been a crazy three months and here I am in Freddie Mercury’s house with a whole bunch of strangers plus the rest of the band and their wives to ring in the New Year. Of course Adam didn’t want to come even though I tried to convince him to come, but he said that he was just too cool to be around a band like Queen.

It was 15 minutes till midnight and 1981 would soon be here. I was at the food table trying to get a second plate of brownies and basically fill up on sugar to keep myself awake. Most of the people were already hammered beyond anything else so I had to walk over some of their unconscious bodies till I finally reached the guys.

“Ahh there’s our best girl!” Freddie praised at he held his glass up almost as if he were giving a toast.

“Oh stop it Fred, I literally just saw you five seconds ago.”

“Five very long seconds.” He whined as I playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Isn’t that your second batch of sweets already?” asked Brian.

“Sugar keeps me up, otherwise I’d be asleep in the corner hours ago after all that I’ve been through this semester.” I said.

“But I thought you loved us? Guess we were nothing but a stress factor to you then huh?” Deacy snapped clearly teasing me as I noticed a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“No, no, no, no don’t you guilt me Deacy! You know I love you guys! This has literally been the best semester I’ve had, I just can’t believe in a couple more months I’ll be done and then I won’t see you guys till your next tour before Miami clears my internship credit.”

“I can’t believe you’ll be leaving us after our tour, I feel like you should stay here with us even after the tours done. I’d miss you too much darling.” Freddie said as he leaned over and hugged me close to him before kissing my cheek.

“In all seriousness love, maybe you should cut back on the sweets, you’ll crash faster if you keep eating sugar, take some of these,” he then handed me a couple of his celery sticks and baby carrots. I looked at him with a ‘seriously’ look as I said.

“Really? Veggies Bri?”

“Less you want cavities for the new year I suggest you eat those. Otherwise I’ll have Dr. Taylor here take a look at your mouth since he studied dentistry.”

“Wait for real?” I asked as I turned around and faced him.

“This whole time we’ve known each other and you never once bothered to listen to what I did in school. Really (y/n) what kind of friend are you?” Roger said in a mocked hurt tone. I threw my baby carrot at him which made all of us laugh and we continued to chat till the midnight hour drew closer.

Time sure does go by when you’re having fun with friends because now as everyone gathered to watch the ball drop live from New York City. We were just 2 minutes away to ring in the New Year and as everyone began the countdown, the anticipation was growing as it got closer and closer.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” Everyone cried out as horns were blown, confetti was thrown in the air and couples kissed each other to ring in the New Year. Bri, Rog and Deacy kissed their wives to celebrate the new year, Freddie was off god knows where by now meanwhile I just sat there alone.

I sure wish Adam was here to ring in the New Year. I mean he used to be romantic at first at the start of our relationship, always buying my flowers and leaving little poems every time he’d leave the flat, but now for some reason he thought the romantic gestures were too corny and lame for him all of a sudden, could threaten the new “Rock” image he’s been trying out.

So I secretly knew even if I did bring him, he wouldn’t go for a New Year’s kiss. Which sucked because the believer of romance that I am, I always thought sharing a kiss with the person you loved, meant you’d have a full successful relationship in the years to come.

At least that’s what I always saw in my parents every New Years.

I sighed solemnly and decided to stop out of the craziness of the party and just have a moment to myself. I sat along outside in the garden of Freddie’s house along the bench and just stared up into the sky.

“Happy New year mum and dad. I sure wish you could be here to see it.” I said to myself solemnly.

“Something wrong love?” I heard Deacy’s voice say. I turned around and saw the guys standing behind me all looking at me with concern.

“No, not really. At least anything serious.” I said.

“You sure?” They all came and sat around me. Deacy to my left, Brian to my right, Roger sitting in front of me and Freddie standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders every now and then squeezing them assuringly or massaging them.

“Yes, I promise guys nothing’s wrong just….missing my parents is all.”

“While we can see that’s true, there’s something else going on too. You got a little awkward once people started kissing each other, is this because of Arsehole?” Roger said. I looked at him and said.

“His name’s Adam Rog,”

“Is there a difference?” he questioned. I scoffed at him shaking my head softly.

“I don’t know guys, I thought that maybe I could for the first time get a New Year’s kiss with the first boy whom I’ve ever allowed into my heart ever since my parents died. Oh if only you guys first knew him you’d know he was romantic like you lot are, but lately he’s just called off anything that could damage his ‘badass hard rock exterior’. I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sap.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic. Neither gender should feel shame for being or hoping for a little romantic gesture in their life. Take me for example, the best guitarist of the greatest band. Makes his wife breakfasts in bed even when it’s not Mother’s Day or her birthday. I do it because I love her.” Brian said.

“And me, silent bassist John Deacon. I wrote ‘You’re my best friend’ for Veronica. Because that’s who she is and will always be to me. Not just the love of my life, but also my greatest and most treasured friend.”

“And even though we’ve broken off the engagement, Mary will still always be the love of my life. No matter what, which is why I wrote Love of my life for her, because that is who she is and will always be to me. Even though we’re no longer romantically involved with each other.” Said Freddie.

“And even though I’ve gained the reputation for ‘bad drummer boy of Queen’, for Dominque I’m willing to do anything for her. Whether its treating her to a spa day or even a day off from the kids.”

“And that’s what makes your wives and Mary so lucky to have met guys like you. I….just wish I had that guy now.”

“You will love, one day.” Deacy said as he gently placed his hand on the top of my shoulder and gently stroked it with his thumb.

“Until then you still got us, in fact.” Freddie cupped my face and had me look up at him and he kissed both my cheeks and continued, “Consider that your New Year’s kiss from me to you, darling angel.” I smiled up at him as he released my face from his hands. I then felt my head turn towards Deacy and he said.

“Happy New Year poppet, here’s my kiss from me to you.” He then kissed my temple before I felt him lean his face against mine giving me an additional butterfly kiss. He backed away as Brian said.

“Don’t forget about me,” I turned towards him and he cupped my face much like Freddie did. He first leaned in and gave me a soft Eskimo kiss as his forehead touched mine which always made me feel safe and loved. He then gingerly kissed the center of my forehead and it was then I turned to Roger.

He grinned up at me and said.

“You know the drill, get into these arms you little imp.” I grinned at him before getting off the bench and hugged Roger. His strong arms wrapped around me instantly giving me a big, warm bear hug as I liked to secretly call them.

I felt him repeatedly kiss the top of my head and felt him rub my back. But then I felt him starting to poke and lightly pinch around my sides, oh shit not again!

“Rog no!”

“No you’ve ended last year with a frown, when you should’ve been smiling. So that’s my first New Year’s resolution, to get you to smile.” He said with a mischievous grin as he kept tickling me. I squirmed around trying to escape Roger’s grip but it was iron clamped.

“Rog….stohahahp!”

“Nah I don’t think so.” He said as he kept tickling me.

“You know Rog, I think you and I are sharing the exact same resolution.” Deacy say.

“No! Nohohoh Deacy don’t…..NOO!!” Soon I had both Roger and Deacy tickling me.

“For being total opposites, seems they’ve agreed on one thing.” I could hear Brian say.

“Indeed.” Stated Freddie.

“But who says they get to have all the fun?” suggested Brian. As I kept trying to escape from both Rog and Deacy, suddenly I felt four more pair of hands start to tickle me.

“Guhahahahys stohahahahhap you’re kihihihihlling me!!!”

“Will you start off the New Year with a smile little angel?” Freddie asked.

“YES!! YEHEHEHESS!! JUST PLEHEHEHEASE STOHAHAHP!!” And with that the tickling ceased. I panted heavily trying to regain my breathing and I said, “You guys are devils I swear.”

“Well that was rather rude darling.” Freddie said.

“Does that require punishment lads?” Brian asked.

“I say it does.” Stated Roger.

“Agreed.” Said Deacy. The four of them looked at me ready to start tickling me again when I shouted.

“No! No! No! No! No I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Okay I’m sorry I surrender!” They all smirked at me laughing softly. I then looked at them and said, “Thanks for cheering me up though guys.”

“No problem love, we’re always here for you when you need us.” Brian said as he gently stroked my hair.

“Happy New Year, my four best boys.”

“Happy New Year, our little rock angel.” Freddie said. I smiled at them and I went up to them and the four of them brought me to the center once more but instead of a tickle attack, it was a Queen group hug.

1980 was a roller coaster year for me, but the best thing that came out of it was the fact that a girl like me, an ordinary college intern music student got to call the biggest band in all of History, my family.

Hell I can’t even imagine what 1981 was going to bring that could make this year seem just like any ordinary year.

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohem!rhap x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #roger taylor #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #freddie mercury x reader #john deacon x reader #queen #queen imagine #queen imagines #queen fanfiction

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darktammy · 6 years ago

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New roses in my womb (Part 4)

tag @sassybrose @instantbouquetdestinysblog @purpleskiesandcherrypies @drxcleaner @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @bluepunkrock @instantbouquetdestinysblog @thelonelunatic @cosmic--daydream @clown-dean @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @missdonna18

Negative you look at the test that said negative on it, you got up walking out of the bathroom showing Kenny. “Babe I don’t think I can give you a baby.” Kenny stop watching you sit on the sofa. “Don’t say that yes you can maybe we're not trying hard enough.” You look up at him as you shook your head, “No Kenny we’ve been at this for three months now nothing maybe that trying hard stuff is not the right way to go.” Kenny sat right next you on the sofa as he hugs you really tight. “Oh where going to have this baby one way or another ever if we do an IVF babe.” You got mad at him when he said that. “No fucking way Kenny that this again.” You said laying your head on his chest. Kenny rolled his eyes as he started to rub your head. “Look i’m sorry babe, but three months and nothing I think we should just take a look.” You shook your head again. “I’m sorry Kenny, but my answer is no.” You said as you got up heading to the bathroom.

You drove Kenny off to the airport just so he can catch his flight to a house show. Once you saw Kenny booked his flight you wave him goodbye once he got on that plain. You start to walk to your car then you stop to see Renee walking into the airport. You smiled as you ran up to her, “Hey Renee!” She stop to smile at you. “Hey Y/N how’s everything?” You both gave each other a hug. “I’m fine it’s been a hard time for me, you know trying to start a little family you know?” You laugh as you help her with her bag into the airport. “So your trying with Kenny now?” You nodded your head. “How long?” You look at Renee, “We’ve been trying for three months and nothing. I think I just can’t have any kids.” You said putting her bag down at check out. Renee shook her head. “Maybe your guys are trying to hard ever thought about relaxing when your both getting it on?” You shook your head, “no Kenny likes it rough, I mean there’s nothing wrong with that.” You and Renee start walking to her flight as you both talk. “Maybe if you both slow down and just make love then maybe it would work.” Renee look at you with a smile. You nodded your head at her. “Believe me it will work, and besides you both can make it work your a writer and his wrestler, you both have it easy.” You laugh as you look at Renee, “Oh Rene, oh yeah where's Dean? I thought the both of you would be together right about now.” You look around.

Renee look down as you both got coffee together. “Well that one is for another time Y/N.” You look at her confuse. “Renee what’s wrong?” You both sat down as you waited for her flight to come. “You see Y/N me and Dean we didn’t work things out. I moved out because I just couldn’t with him.” You took her hand and squeeze it a bit. “Oh Renee I’m so sorry why did you call me about it. I would have let stay with me.” You said She shook her head as she smiled at you. “No I moved back into my old apartment so I should be ok.” You shook your head as you both start there talking about what your going to to for the rest of the week.

You went back home to pack up somethings just so you can surprise Kenny to Monday night. You had everything ready even your red nightgown you just bought. You know he was going to love it.

You made to where Raw was going to be airing for tonight you walk into the arena with your mini skull purse in hand. You wave at a few people you knew like Lana, Becky, Charlotte, Bayley most of the women really. They all pulled you into their locker room so you can all talk about what was going on. You walk out with Ember just to get some bottles of water for the girls, then out of nowhere Ember said hello to someone. “Hey Seth, Dean.” Ember nodded her head them as Seth, and Dean look over to you and her together. “Ember, hey.” Seth said as Dean walk over to you putting his arm around you. “Hey Y/N I’m in shock that your here does Kenny know?” You shook your head, “No I’m going to surprise him Dean.” You said moving his arm off of you. “Hey you guys can you help us bring this water bottles back to the locker room with us Ember look up at Seth as Seth pick up the cooler with bottles in it. All four of you started to walk back to the locker room until you felt Dean’s hand rubbing you back. “Do you mind?” You said looking at him. He smiled at you. “Sure baby girl just try not to get turn on after I leave.” Dean whispered into your ear turning you on a little. Dean grab your ass and squeeze it tight making you bite your lower lips. “I knew you would like that I have a thing I need to do with Kenny I’ll see you around.” You turn your head only for your lips end up meeting Deans. Seth whistle at the both of you while Ember giggled. “I think they make a great couple right Seth?” You moved away from Dean walking into the women's locker room.

You watch the show from the gorilla stand because you knew Kenny had a match with Dean so there you are waiting for Kenny to come around. You saw Dean took the mic and held it close to his mouth. He started to think before he said anything. “You know there’s so much that’s going on here. First we got this guy EC3.” The crowd booed at his name. “Then you got Brock lesnar who’s not even here again.” Again the crowd boos. “Then you got Kenny Omega.” The crowd cheers him on. “Yeah yeah but he needs to understand this is our yard, this belongs to the shield, this belongs my brothers. But don’t get me wrong I mean how cool would it be if we add someone else in it.” The crowd cheered on while Dean had a smirk on his face. “Guess who I saw in the back today? Y/N!!” You look up at the tv monitor as you heard your name being called out. You look over at Vince who told you to walk out into the ring right now. You did what you was told.

You walk out just to hear the crowd yelling out your name. You smiled as you walk down the ramp then your smile drop as you just remember. Dean was in the ring he sat on the ropes just to let you in. You enter the ring as you look at Dean. He got up as he walk right next to you. “Now Y/N welcome to the wwe it’s nice to meet you.” As he took your hand then plant a kiss. You smiled at him as you pulled your hand away from him. “Well we all know what you do for a living which is nice that you make love poems.” You nodded you head as you look at him.

“Now then how about the next book are writing are you writing it?” You look at him as he move the mic to you. “Yes i’m working on my new one.” Dean nodded as he licks his bottom lips looking at you. “Oh so what’s it about?” You look at him confuse, “Well the one book is about…” Dean walk away from you. “It’s about me right?” You shook your head, “Oh yeah doll face it’s about little old me, on how much you think about me when you walk around, how you think about me when you go shopping, eating, drinking, sleeping.” Dean looks at you with smile on his face. “You do think of me when you go to bed at night right?” The crowd ooh as you look around at them then back to Dean. “Uuhh…. I...I…” Dean move in front of you with smile on his face. “You know you think about me all the time doll face. Don’t lie.” The crowd started to laugh while the others ooh the whole time. You look around then back at Dean who’s now very close to your face. “Tell me Y/N,” He puts one arm around your waist as he pulled you close to him making you moan a bit. He heard it making him smile. “Do you think about this ever night.” Dean drop the mic as he pulled you face to his lips connecting. Dean kissing you, and you kissing him back moaning into his kiss.

Kenny ran so fast down that ramp when Dean look to the side he push you out of the way just so they fight. Feel elbow first onto the mat. “Ouch!” Was all you can say as you move to the corner of the ring seeing the fight breaking out in front of you. The referees all came down just to try to break up the fight between the two while you felt someone pulling you out of the ring. Roman, he pick you up caring you up the ramp while you held onto your elbow. Kenny look around to see Roman was carrying you to the back. Kenny rolled from the bottom ropes he start to walk up the ramp until Dean jump on him making the fight even worse than before.

You sat in the back as the medical team look at your elbow, Kenny walk into the room and told them to leave. They ran out of the room. “Kenny.” “Shut the hell up Y/N! What the hell are even doing here?” Kenny’s face was already red. “I wanted to surprise you that’s all.” You said looking up at him. “By what? Having Dean kiss you? Uh? By him putting his hands all over you?” You look up at him. “One he didn’t put his hands all over my body. Two I came here to surprise you by the gorilla post just to give you a kiss before your match. And three it was all Vinces idea he was the one who told me to walk out there.” You said. Kenny started to rub both hands over his face. “You see this is why I didn’t want you to come here in the first place, because of stupid shit like that. You know what Y/N my Ex Cara was way better than you.” Kenny walk out of the room leaving you in shock. Your eyes widen after those hurtful words made you finally cry.

Roman walk into the room hear what Kenny said. “Cheer up baby girl don’t let that asshole’s words get to you.” You look up at him as you shock your head. “No, it was Dean’s fault why did he do that? What he thought it was funny?” Roman shook his head as he sat next to you. “No because that man really really loves ya.” You suck your teeth at his words while Roman laugh. “Nah it’s true Dean’s been talk about you since he read your first book about life or something like that.” You laugh due to the fact that the first one was when you graduated from college. “That was a long time ago Roman I’m in shock that he even read it.”You look at him. “You mean he still has it.” You shook your head and you giggled. “No way he does?” Roman nodded his head as he laugh. “Yup hey look whatever happens just remember you can always give me a heads up ok?” You nodded you head as you gave Roman a hug.

You made it back home as you unpack all your belongings and putting them away. You laid in your bed looking at the your phone watching some videos only for one to hit media everywhere. “Are you kidding me?!” You saw the pictures and video of Dean kissing you in the middle of the ring. Some saying ‘New love with Dean Ambrose?’ or another one said that ‘Kenny and Y/N are over!’ Or this one ‘Dean and Y/N are lovers and Kenny is now gone.’ You shook your head as you read most of the things that they said. “Oh my god really? I hate reporters.” You said getting up from your bed. You headed to the kitchen just to make a blow of your favorite cereal. Then you see your phone a text from Roman. You had a smile on your face.

Roman: Hey baby girl I see you and my bro are in love. ❤️

You: No Ro stop it were not, I hate the media.

Roman: I know what you mean. Besides all that how you feeling?

You: I’m ok just eating my cereal, how about you

Roman: 😕 cereal really? I thought you'd be a little to old for that, but hey whatevea

You: smh really you're never too old to eat cereal Ro.

Roman: 😂 yeah your right, hey i’m glad you are right get some rest because I know you have a lot to do in the morning goodnight baby girl.

You: Goodnight Ro

You ate you nighttime snack while you read what most of the wrestling news was saying about you with Dean and Kenny.

The next Morning you was out and about doing what you love shopping for you. Then you head for the supermarket to get some food then you felt strong arms wrap around your waist. “Can you believe it doll face, you and me all over the news.” You pulled Dean’s arms off of you as you look back. “One don’t touch me, it’s bad enough I got in trouble with Kenny about that kiss. Two don’t you say hello?” Dean smiled at you as he took your shopping cart then start to walk down the aisle with it, you start to follow him. “Yeah about that I’m sorry Roman told me about the fight you and Kenny had.” You nodded your head at Dean as you grab some things to put in your cart. “Thanks but I haven’t heard from Kenny since I got home last night. I tried calling him no answer. I even ask one of his friends if they heard from him nothing.” Dean gave you a tight hug.

“Hey everything is going to be alright I mean it. Maybe his with Cara.” You stop as you look at Dean. “Cara? You mean his ex girlfriend?” Dean nodded as you both started walking, “yeah I mean one night me and guys was at bar and we saw Kenny walking in there with her.” You look down because one you know Kenny don’t drink not at all. “What happened after Dean?” He look at you with worried look on his face. “I rather not say.” You pulled Dean close to you, “Please Dean tell me what happened after the bar? I know Kenny he don’t drink.” Dean had sad look in his eyes because he knew what was going to happen if he says it. “Kenny took Cara up into her hotel room and well he…” You got the idea you knew what he did. No wander Kenny said what he said. “Hey Y/N look at me I don’t really know what happened but think bad not right now.” You nodded as you and Dean finish food shopping.

You drop Dean off to his place as you think him for everything. You headed home taking everything had up to your place. You tried calling Kenny again, but no answer. You really do hope he’s not with Cara because you really can’t take anymore heartache. It was almost midnight when your cell rang Kenny. You answered it so fast that you almost drop your phone. “Kenny? Kenny where are you?” You hear him laughing with a few friends. “Hey babe I’m good right now I’m just with the bucks and Cody right now I’m fine.” You shook your head because you knew there was no way Cody or the young bucks where there with him, plus there was no way they can sound like girl ether. “Alright Kenny cut the crap what’s going on?” Before Kenny could say something you heard her in the back. “Kenny it’s time for your check up.” You sat up as you know who that could be. “Hey Cara not now I’m talking to my girl here.” You ended the call as you got up from the couch. You grab your bag as you start to pack up some clothes. “I can’t believe him!” You took all you had in your bag.

You was out the door and into your car as you drove straight to Dean’s place, and to make things worse it start to rain. Once you park your car you grab your bag then headed to his door you knock on it a few times. You stood here crying as you look up in the sky then you heard the door open to see Dean. He was standing here shirtless with his shorts on. You look at him with tears running down your face. “Y/N? What happened?” He said pulling you in then closing his door. “Please Dean can I talk to Renee for few.” Dean sigh as he look at you. “Renee moved out after what she did.” You look at him then you just remembered she told you that she moved. “Oh god I forgot she told me that.” Dean grab your bag out of your hand as he tosses it to the corner. “Hey first thing first let's get you you dried up and we can talk about whatever is bothering you ok.” You nodded as Dean pulled you up the stairs to one of the guest bedroom.

You sat on the couch with one of Dean’s old shirts on, he gave it to you because most of your clothes was wet when he pulled it out. You thank him as he gave you a cup of tea. “Ok tell me from the top what happened?” You nodded as you explained to him what happened from the phone call you had with him. You told him how right he was Kenny was seeing Cara, and it broke your heart because you thought you was his only one. Dean held your hand while you keep on talking about everything you and Kenny did together. You start to cry again making Dean hug you. You told him that you’ll stay on the couch because you just need some time to think. Dean nodded as he want up stairs to head to bed. You laid on the couch as you thought about everything you and Kenny wanted to do. You look over to your bag to see your clothes then you saw your red nightgown you got up just to put it on.

You walk up the stairs just so you can go to bed, but instead you walk right up to Dean’s bedroom. You look in just to see him fast asleep. You smiled at him as you walk in, you softly pulled the sheets back as you carefully slept in his bed. She pulled the sheets back up as she laid close to him. She inhaled his scent putting a smile on her face. You felt his arm cross over to your body pulling you close to him. “Your not carefully Y/N.” You laugh as you look up at him. He look down at you with his sleepy eyes. You was so emotionally unstable at the moment so much emotions running through your mind that you just lean up and kiss him. Dean so surprise that it took him a moment to process that he kiss you right back.

Dean pulled on top of as you both deepen your kiss. You felt his rough hands sliding up your body. You hands starting to slide down his chest. You felt Dean ripping your panties right off of you. You gasp as you look down at him. “Now now doll face.” Dean said. “You can keep the nightgown on I like.” You laugh as you kiss him again. Dean start to move his hand down your back until he feels your ass smacking it making you moan. “Oh you like that don’t you.” He does it again making your bite your lower lips. “Please Dean I want you so badly.” Dean turn you making you lay on your back. You keeps your eyes on him as you watch him open your legs wide. You sat up on your elbows watching Dean’s head lower down into your core. “Dean?” You felt his tongue start to rub your bud making you gasp once again. “De...Dean! Oh god yes baby yes.” You bite your lower lip again as you moan with pleasure. Dean look up at you while he start to bit down on your bud making you moan even more. Dean lick two fingers as he slid them inside you making you throw your head back yelling out his name. “Oh god Dean!” He start to pump his fingers while biting down your bud. You look back down at him seeing his eyes now full of lust. You keep on moaning as he was now a wild animal. It was not to long that you felt a tight knot coming. Dean knows because you just tight yourself around his fingers. “Oh Dean please!” He pumps faster as his tongue rubs your one last making you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you hard.

Dean jumps up as he pulls you making you kissing him hard. You wrap your arm around him as you pulled his shorts feeling his cock sprung out. You look down to see how hard he was. He was thick just a little shorter than Kenny. You look up at Dean then smiled as you lowered yourself down to him with a smile on your face. You grab his hard cock in your hand you lick the tip of his head making him moan your name. “Oh doll face!” You smiled as took him whole in your mouth. Dean start to moan as you bob your head fast. “Oh yeah baby girl keep sucking.” Dean keep his eyes on you while you keep your eyes on him. You tried to swallow him every time your down goes down his cock making him once again yell out your name. You felt him twitching in your mouth you knew what you had to do. You bob your head feaster until Dean grab your hair pulling you back. “Oh no baby not yet if i’m going to come it’s going to be inside ya, now get on your knees.” You did as you were told.

You now in the position of doggy style, you bit your lower lips as you waited for Dean. “Oh Y/N, I can’t believe this is happening. I mean us here in my place right now.” Dean lean his head close to your ear. You felt his tip rubbing your core. “I know baby I didn’t think this was going to happen. Please Dean stop teasing me and just fuck me.” He laugh as he slowly enter you making you moan his name. “Last time I check I’m not gonna fuck ya I’m going to make sweet love to ya. You see that night when you first came to Raw me and guys heard ya with Kenny.” Your eyes widen because you remember that night. “He fuck you, only pleasing himself no fun right there. I’m gonna make love to ya I’m going to make you say my name until you come.” Dean slam inside you hard making you yelp loudly. His cock was inside you and it felt great just like it was in your mouth. You felt him excited then entering you again slow this was his speed nice and slow with passion in it. You moan to the feeling as he keep up with it. You close your eyes with smile on your face enjoying it. “Oh daddy yes.” Dean start to move faster once he heard those words making you moan louder. “Oh baby why did you say that as he whisper into your ear. “I’m..not...sorry.” You look back at him.

He pulled out making you turn this time he pulled your nightgown off tossing it someone in room he made you lay on your back opening your legs again. Then time entering you once again as you both moan again now thrusting you hard. You both start to moan as you both look in each other eyes. You want to keep this up for ever, but your body was saying something else. Tightening around Dean he speed up a bit. “Oh yeah baby come for me come for me.” Dean lean in kissing you once again, you felt your orgasm hit you hard as you moan into both your kiss. Dean thrust started to get sloppy as you try to say something, but couldn’t after a few more Dean finally comes inside. He pulled away as he said a few curse words. You look up at him as you shook your head with a smile. “Dean...I think….no I’m in love with you.” He look at her with a smile as he kiss you once again. “I love you more Y/N I love you so much.” That night you and Dean made love once again after that you both feel sleep.

Kenny came home look around the place only to find that you was gone. He knew he mess up because now he has to worry about a new problem Cara is now pregnant with his baby.

#kenny omega x reader #Kenny Omega #dean ambrose #dean ambrose x reader #roman reigns #Renee Young #renee young x reader #ember moon #wwe imagine #fanfic

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starryandersen · 6 years ago

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ok so I have this idea for the longest time please hear me out. brandon/adam (I’m lost but u can’t tell me you aren’t as well) both of them are hockey players but Brandon is secretly an acclaimed author (zach hyman vibe) and his latest book is an experiment with poetry and of couse it’s about Adam, can’t blame the guy. BUT imagine when somehow the secret is revealed and Adam gets suspicious after all of his friends tell him to read it and he caves in and reads all of Brandon’s books.

(pt. 2) AND he finds out he somehow always ends up being an important character in every single one, but full on freaks out when he realises the whole book of love poems are describing HIM! anyway that’s all I’ve got but it fits well with 33.hide so I’m curious about what are your feelings about this

yes yes YES i love it! i agree brandon/adam have stolen my heart and this is such a lovely trope. i’m such a slut for the dramatiques so this is wonderful. i hope you don’t mind if i write a little smth for it, since it really DOES fit so well with 33 :)

33) hide

Seriously, when Brandon had come out as this Y/A writer, it kind of rocks the whole team’s world. Of course, it was never that they found Brandon incapable of being a writer, but it certainly in a million years would never have been anyone’s guess at his secret talent. Between all of the stress baking and hockey, everyone had been baffled as to where he had found the time to write whole fucking novels. Especially when, in the thick of the season, the common perception is that Brandon and Adam have a combined total braincells of negative four. They tend to be associated with each other.

Mark is the first one to finish reading the bulk of Brandon’s repertoire, two novels and his latest publication, a poetry book, and as soon as he’s done, he’s leaving the books in Adam’s stall with a little post-it note telling him that he has to read it.

Adam has never been a big reader, admittedly, he had relied on SparkNotes religiously all through school and wasn’t one to read for pleasure. However, he really is curious to see what Brandon even wrote about, and he was eager to be a supportive friend. He picks up the first book on an off-day where Brandon had obligations and couldn’t be around to entertain him, so he curls up on the couch and reads while listening to the rain thump against the windows in a slow pattern. He finishes it before dinner, wrapped up in every single word spinning off the page, building an entirely different universe inside his modern apartment. Adam can hear Brandon’s voice in each word, telling of his protagonist’s adventures.

It’s kind of fun, Adam realizes, as he uncovers relationships between the side characters and their teammates, it feels like a private look into the story that Brandon’s other readers wouldn’t get. Something unnecessarily warm settles in between his ribs. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have been expecting, is based off of him, he thinks. Adam only puts it together at the end. The way Brandon describes him, things that Adam wouldn’t think to notice about himself even, makes the heat build in the tips of his ears. He finishes the book and slams it closed, dropping it onto the coffee table with a pounding heart, and goes for a run to process it all. It’s oddly flattering.

“I read your book, the one about the spies.” He tells Brandon, one day over lunch, taking a bite of his sandwich like it hadn’t unearthed a whole plethora of repressed feelings that Adam hadn’t though would resurface. Brandon goes pink in the cheeks, stirring his soup with his spoon.

“You can read?” Brandon bites back, but the anxiety under the flat, sarcastic lilt of his voice is easy for Adam to pick out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, watching him carefully across the table through dark eyelashes. The dim, yellowed light is casting perfect shadows over his face and makes him look unfairly good. Brandon always looks unfairly good. Adam kicks him under the table.

“Shut up, asshole. I was gonna say that I really liked it.” He defends mildly, through a smile. Brandon catches his foot between his ankles, and keeps it there. Adam doesn’t make any struggle to pull away. “My favorite was Andrew, naturally.” Brandon goes a dark red, eyes widening and returning to the perpetual hooded look that they always seem to have so fast that Adam thinks he might’ve imagined it. He steels his expression and shakes his head.

“Narcissist.” He sighs, and Adam retaliates with another kick to the calf with his free foot. Brandon laughs, and scoops baked carrots and peas into his mouth.

Adam starts on the poetry book last, which takes him the longest. It’s a combination of the hustle and bustle of the season as it progresses, and the required amount of brainpower it takes to understand poetry. Adam has never been a poetry guy, but there’s something in Brandon’s words that roll off the page like silk and breeze through his chest like a breath of fresh air. They’re shockingly emotional, more than Brandon has showed in person during all of their years of friendship combined. It’s beautiful.

They’re flowery and reflective and simple, but the ones that stick with Adam the most are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. Brandon does say in the forethought that not all of the poems are of personal experience, but these feel so real that it’d be near impossible to fabricate them. The one he’s stuck on at the moment is one of these pages that tug at the heart strings and make Adam a little dizzy. He’s sat against the headboard with the book in his lap as he tries to make sense of it. Brandon exits the shower, perfect and naked and dripping pearls of water that absorb into the towel around his waist, and flushes all over when his eyes land on Adam. The pink spreads deliciously down his chest and Adam wants to bite him.

“Shit, don’t read that around me.” Brandon grumbles, moving towards his suitcase to dig out some clean clothes. Adam reluctantly averts his gaze and discards the book onto the bedside table.

“It’s- you don’t have to feel weird about it, or anything. You’re really good, man. I didn’t know you had all of those emotions in there.” Adam tells him, tapping his own chest. Brandon shrugs, pulling a shirt over his head that falls loosely over his shoulders, baggy around the elbows. He drops down onto the bed next to him and Adam pretends not to stare at the way his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs. “I mean, shit. Those love poems, wow. She must’ve really broken your heart. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The pronouns feels awkward and bitter rolling off of his tongue and he doesn’t know why. It leaves his chest aching.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know. Kind of sucks to bring up, you know? It never could’ve worked.” Brandon pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. “He’s too good for me anyway.” Adam blinks, trying to process the words coming from the other side of the bed. He suddenly feels all turned around.

“Brandon I’m- fuck, I’m sorry. That’s shitty. No way he was too good for you, though. You’re-” Perfect, he wants to say. “-great.” He drops a hand to the side of his face, stroking his thumb gently over Brandon’s jaw. The pad of his thumb just barely grazes the corner of his lips. “Who-”

“They’re about you, Adam.” Brandon says at the same time, squeezing his eyes shut. He sounds like he’s swallowing around a golf ball stuck in his throat and his face is turning a splotchy pink. Adam’s hand stills, heart stopping. There’s just no way, no way that someone could wax so poetic about him like that. Especially not his teammate, his liney, his best friend. He feels like he can’t breathe, the only thing grounding him is the sounds of the mattress creaking as Brandon sits up. Finally Adam’s brain starts working again, he reaches out to grab his wrist.

“You fucking sap,” is all he’s able to get out before he’s pulling Brandon in for a bruising kiss, hands holding on like he’s the most precious thing in Adam’s world. He probably is.

#brandon/adam #lowry/tanev #sysakiddo #prompts #IM SORRY THIS TOO SO LONG #ive been so fucking busy #anyway your prompt made my heart go kaboom i loved it sm

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longlistshort · 5 years ago

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Silver Jews- Random Rules

I first heard about David Berman and his band Silver Jews a while ago, as they were one of those bands you heard about if you were a Pavement fan. But sadly, I never got around to listening to them until now.

Stephen Malkmus and David Berman went to the University of Virginia and later moved together to Hoboken, New Jersey. There Malkmus, along with their other roommate Bob Nastanovich, played with additional bandmates as Pavement, and together with Berman they formed the Silver Jews, although Berman soon remained the only constant member of the band.

When I discovered that David Berman had passed away and read the many quotes from his songs posted online by friends and fans, I finally spent some time listening to his music. There are just so many great lines in these songs. For instance, from Random Rules, posted above- “In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection/ Slowly screwing my way across Europe, they had to make a correction”. It’s a funny opener and the whole song is filled with quotable lyrics. Towards the end are the lyrics “I asked the painter why the roads are colored black/ He said, ‘Steve, it’s because people leave/And no highway will bring them back’.” So many of his songs are like this, the humor mixed with the pathos.

Silver Jews disbanded in 2009 and Berman quit making music for awhile. In 2011 he started a blog. In May, ten years after he stopped making music, he released the album Purple Mountains. The lyrics to the songs on this album, including the one below, are poignant, made even more so after his death. In a recent interview with Exclaim!, he discusses each song off that album.

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Purple Mountains- All My Happiness Is Gone (song starts 2:06)

He also wrote poetry, and this poem, from his book Actual Air, is just so incredible I’m presenting it in its entirety (via poemhunter).

Self- Portrait at 28

I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled by sunlight when the entire hill is approaching the ideal of Virginia brochured with goldenrod and loblolly and I think "at least I have not woken up with a bloody knife in my hand" by then having absently wandered one hundred yards from the house while still seated in this chair with my eyes closed. It is a certain hill the one I imagine when I hear the word "hill" and if the apocalypse turns out to be a world-wide nervous breakdown if our five billion minds collapse at once well I'd call that a surprise ending and this hill would still be beautiful a place I wouldn't mind dying alone or with you.

I am trying to get at something and I want to talk very plainly to you so that we are both comforted by the honesty. You see there is a window by my desk I stare out when I am stuck though the outdoors has rarely inspired me to write and I don't know why I keep staring at it. My childhood hasn't made good material either mostly being a mulch of white minutes with a few stand out moments, popping tar bubbles on the driveway in the summer a certain amount of pride at school everytime they called it "our sun" and playing football when the only play was "go out long" are what stand out now. If squeezed for more information I can remember old clock radios with flipping metal numbers and an entree called Surf and Turf. As a way of getting in touch with my origins every night I set the alarm clock for the time I was born so that waking up becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do is take a reading of the day and try to flow with it like when you're riding a mechanical bull and you strain to learn the pattern quickly so you don't inadverantly resist it.

II two I can't remember being born and no one else can remember it either even the doctor who I met years later at a cocktail party. It's one of the little disappointments that makes you think about getting away going to Holly Springs or Coral Gables and taking a room on the square with a landlady whose hands are scored by disinfectant, telling the people you meet that you are from Alaska, and listen to what they have to say about Alaska until you have learned much more about Alaska than you ever will about Holly Springs or Coral Gables. Sometimes I am buying a newspaper in a strange city and think "I am about to learn what it's like to live here." Oftentimes there is a news item about the complaints of homeowners who live beside the airport and I realize that I read an article on this subject nearly once a year and always receive the same image. I am in bed late at night in my house near the airport listening to the jets fly overhead a strange wife sleeping beside me. In my mind, the bedroom is an amalgamation of various cold medicine commercial sets (there is always a box of tissue on the nightstand). I know these recurring news articles are clues, flaws in the design though I haven't figured out how to string them together yet, but I've begun to notice that the same people are dying over and over again, for instance Minnie Pearl who died this year for the fourth time in four years.

III three Today is the first day of Lent and once again I'm not really sure what it is. How many more years will I let pass before I take the trouble to ask someone? It reminds of this morning when you were getting ready for work. I was sitting by the space heater numbly watching you dress and when you asked why I never wear a robe I had so many good reasons I didn't know where to begin. If you were cool in high school you didn't ask too many questions. You could tell who'd been to last night's big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway. You didn't have to ask and that's what cool was: the ability to deduct to know without asking. And the pressure to simulate coolness means not asking when you don't know, which is why kids grow ever more stupid. A yearbook's endpages, filled with promises to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness of a teenager's promise. Not like I'm dying for a letter from the class stoner ten years on but... Do you remember the way the girls would call out "love you!" conveniently leaving out the "I" as if they didn't want to commit to their own declarations. I agree that the "I" is a pretty heavy concept and hope you won't get uncomfortable if I should go into some deeper stuff here.

IV four There are things I've given up on like recording funny answering machine messages. It's part of growing older and the human race as a group has matured along the same lines. It seems our comedy dates the quickest. If you laugh out loud at Shakespeare's jokes I hope you won't be insulted if I say you're trying too hard. Even sketches from the original Saturday Night Live seem slow-witted and obvious now. It's just that our advances are irrepressible. Nowadays little kids can't even set up lemonade stands. It makes people too self-conscious about the past, though try explaining that to a kid. I'm not saying it should be this way. All this new technology will eventually give us new feelings that will never completely displace the old ones leaving everyone feeling quite nervous and split in two. We will travel to Mars even as folks on Earth are still ripping open potato chip bags with their teeth. Why? I don't have the time or intelligence to make all the connections like my friend Gordon (this is a true story) who grew up in Braintree Massachusetts and had never pictured a brain snagged in a tree until I brought it up. He'd never broken the name down to its parts. By then it was too late. He had moved to Coral Gables.

V five The hill out my window is still looking beautiful suffused in a kind of gold national park light and it seems to say, I'm sorry the world could not possibly use another poem about Orpheus but I'm available if you're not working on a self-portrait or anything. I'm watching my dog have nightmares, twitching and whining on the office floor and I try to imagine what beast has cornered him in the meadow where his dreams are set. I'm just letting the day be what it is: a place for a large number of things to gather and interact -- not even a place but an occasion a reality for real things. Friends warned me not to get too psychedelic or religious with this piece: "They won't accept it if it's too psychedelic or religious," but these are valid topics and I'm the one with the dog twitching on the floor possibly dreaming of me that part of me that would beat a dog for no good reason no reason that a dog could see. I am trying to get at something so simple that I have to talk plainly so the words don't disfigure it and if it turns out that what I say is untrue then at least let it be harmless like a leaky boat in the reeds that is bothering no one. VI six I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories, many of them having blended with sentimental telephone and margarine commercials plainly ruined by Madison Avenue though no one seems to call the advertising world "Madison Avenue" anymore. Have they moved? Let's get an update on this. But first I have some business to take care of. I walked out to the hill behind our house which looks positively Alaskan today and it would be easier to explain this if I had a picture to show you but I was with our young dog and he was running through the tall grass like running through the tall grass is all of life together until a bird calls or he finds a beer can and that thing fills all the space in his head. You see, his mind can only hold one thought at a time and when he finally hears me call his name he looks up and cocks his head and for a single moment my voice is everything: Self-portrait at 28.

There is only so much time to read, listen to, and see all the wonderful things people have created. David Berman made work well worth spending some of that precious time on.

Rest in Peace.

#david berman #silver jews #purple mountains #music #musicians #writers #poetry #books #playlist #pavement #stephen malkmus #rip

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whatever-the-fucky-i-writes · 6 years ago

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Shadows Dance - Part 1

Word Count: 1,564

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Death, Mentions of torture, Blood, Swearing, One mention of drug use

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Final)

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from the MCU.

Tags: @beccaanne814 @winterbvrnes

Author’s Note: AND HERE WE ARE! The original reason for making this darn blog! [Cue Thomas Sanders Voice] Story Time! So the amazing winterbvrnes was having a writing challenge and I had been toying with the idea of actually writing something rather than just creating stories in my head that will never have the honor of meeting the lovely Ms Paper. The basic premise was that you take a line from a song, book, poem, whatever you want and write a story about it. I decided to go for it, choosing the line “Sometimes goodbye's the only way. And the Sun will set for you." from the song Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park (a song that I may or may not have listened to on repeat while writing this whole thing). And even though they ended up taking down the challenge and later leaving Tumblr, I decided to still write this story. And so ten months later, my first (on purpose) fanfic is finally done. Infinity War wasn’t out when I started writing this so there’s no spoilers or anything from that movie in here. I’ve split it up into four parts and I’m going to try and exercise what little patience I have and try to not post them all in one go. Part two will probably be up within the next few days.

And I just want to give special thanks to beccaanne814. I am so thankful that she decided to read this, and her kind words and support gave me the extra boost I needed to actually put this out into the world. If you don’t already know of her, you should totally go check her out; her writing’s amazeballs!

So without further ado, here is my Bucky x Reader series, Shadows Dance.

You had joined the Avengers a few years ago. After Steve’s half of the Avengers had fled, Tony had started to compile a list of special individuals whom he believed had the makings of potential recruits. However, that wasn’t the reason you were recruited. Were you on the list? Yes, your exemplary background as an ex-Marine and the fact that you were pretty dang smart ensured that, and having powers didn’t hurt either. No, the reason you were recruited was that you actually saved a few Avenger butts when they found themselves in a sticky situation at a Hydra base that you had infiltrated while working with Nick Fury in Europe. And after you’d finished saving their asses, you just had to come back to the compound for celebratory drinks. And, after Tony talked it over with you and Fury, you all decided it would be beneficial if you stayed.

And after a brief adjustment period, you began to fit right in. You could keep up with Tony and Bruce’s scientific ramblings so you would often find yourself wandering down to the lab on restless nights to keep Tony company and provide second (or third) opinions on whatever gizmo or gadget he was working on. Your main sparring opponents were Nat and Steve, but you would also face Clint and Sam to shake things up sometimes. All in all, you got on well with everyone on the team, aside from Bucky. He wasn’t that good with new people yet so your interactions were often spent in silence, or very near to it. That’s not to say you avoided him, you could often be found watching TV in the main room together, but you didn’t push him to talk to you; you figured that when he felt comfortable enough, he would talk. And about half a year later, talk he did. After you got over what felt akin to shock at his first attempt at initiating conversation with you, you would talk about anything and everything. You two were like peas in a pod and he became your best friend (but you’d never tell Tony that — his fake offense would be unbearable.) Your room was just down the hall from Bucky’s so you’d often find yourself comforting him after nightmares, and he found himself doing the same for you. And on the weekends when you guys weren’t running missions, you’d often have movie or TV show marathons in each others room. And that’s how things were for the next year and half-ish.

However, after Bucky and the sweet art student (she had to be the nicest human being you had met outside of the Avengers) broke up, you became very conflicted. You felt bad because your best friend was hurting and you only wanted him to be happy, but you also felt… relief? And that’s how you realized that what had once been platonic, for you at least, had become romantic. But your friendship with him meant the world to you so you kept your feelings a secret so as to not jeopardize that. You didn’t want to fuck it all up by revealing your feelings and having him not reciprocate which would lead to inevitable awkwardness. So you resolved to only be there for Bucky in his time of need and to simply stay his friend.

Two Years Later...

You had a bad feeling about this. The rest of the Avengers were out on other missions, leaving you and Bucky to respond to a tip from somewhere in eastern Europe. Some stoner had been wandering through the woods after some… recreational activities when they had seen “strange military-looking trucks” heading further into the woods. Now, normally people wouldn’t give too much credence to what the high youngster had said, but the area they described was home to a known, although thought to be abandoned, Hydra base. You two had quickly loaded up the Quinjet with all the necessary supplies and your suits and taken off. Bucky locked in the auto-pilot sequence and turned around. You tossed him his suit with a nod of your head as you both turned around and got dressed.

“You good?” he asked as you propped your foot up on a seat and hunched over to begin to lace the tac boot up.

“You can turn around,” you responded. Finishing with that a few moments later, you straightened out, almost feeling a sense of comfort in your suit. Your ensemble consisted of black tac boots and pants, not unlike Bucky’s, and a long-sleeved black spandex shirt underneath a bulletproof vest. Nat had tried to convince you to wear a catsuit once, but you only got as far as putting one on and deciding it was definitely not for you. It clung in all the wrong places and you could just feel the major wedgie waiting to happen.

Well, turns out you had pretty great intuition because, wouldn’t ya know, your bad feeling had meant something. It meant that you and Bucky had been dumbasses for going in alone. Your intel and surveillance had grossly underestimated the total population and size of the base. It was supposed to be mostly abandoned, intel telling you that there was nothing more than a ghost crew present, just enough to keep it running. And Bucky’s reconn indicated that those numbers should have been right. It was supposed to be relatively small, a few hallways, a few rooms, a lab or two with a central control/security room, nothing major. Instead, you got a sprawling, underground maze of hallways that all looked the same and countless rooms with iron doors with as many agents as you could possibly squeeze into the place. Screw base, this was a stronghold. And you and Bucky had gone in with a carefully laid plan that had fallen into pieces when confronted with their overwhelming numbers. Needless to say, the two of you were captured, and, recognizing who Bucky was and inferring who you must be, they decided to hold off on killing you until you answered a few of their questions while strapped to some pretty sturdy-ass, cold, metal chairs.

Day and night bled together, the lines between dream and reality, waking and unconsciousness were blurred by ever-present pain. After, oh gosh you didn’t even know how long it had been… you decided to call it a long while, a rookie guard had made the mistake of standing too close to you while overseeing one of Bucky’s sessions. The guard had turned as Bucky passed out, his head slumped forward onto his chest. ‘Sick fucker,’ you thought, ‘wanting to get a better view of someone else’s torture. What would your momma say?’

But lucky for you, his desire to get a better view left the side of his leg exposed to you, allowing you to see the knife he kept strapped there. You quickly formulated a plan, knowing you had to act before the guard turned his back towards you completely. So even though the angle wasn’t quite ideal, you reeled back and with all your might head-butted the guard right in his balls. As your chair began to fall forward, you twisted it so that your hand brushed his leg, allowing you just enough to time to snatch the knife out of its holster without him noticing. While he was caught up in his pain, you slid the knife underneath your arm, trapping it between your forearm and the arm of the chair. Just as you finished, the torturer, who had quickly strode over from where Bucky was strapped to his chair with a malicious glint in her eyes, was picking your chair back up, slamming it back onto all four legs. Your eyes met those of the guard, who was looking at you with enough vitriol that you almost felt insulted. It wasn’t your fault they had lousy spacial awareness. The contact was cut swiftly as you experienced a different kind of contact. Namely that between a fist and your face. You could taste blood as your head snapped violently to the side. Waiting until your vision stopped swimming, you wearily turned your head back, already able to feel a nasty bruise forming thanks to a probably fractured cheekbone. Man, that lady had one hell of a right hook.

And that was only the beginning. The pummeling that followed was nothing short of absolutely brutal. As she left the room, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room you were being contained in, the guard was forced to reassume his position outside the door. You lingered on the edge of passing out, whether it was from pain or exhaustion, you didn’t know. But you knew you had to stay awake. And, though you dreaded what would happen if this next step went wrong, you knew you had to get someone to come back in there. The only way out was through a door that opened from the outside, a buzzer letting the guard outside know when someone wanted to be let out. So in order to get out, you needed someone else to come in. You managed to maneuver the knife out from under your arm and made quick work of the ropes that were holding you in place. ‘Time to go to work,’ you thought as you swallowed heavily, preparing yourself mentally for what was to come.

To Be Continued...

#marvel fic #marvel series #bucky barnes x reader #shadows dance

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drelmurn · 3 years ago

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I posted 185 times in 2021

39 posts created (21%)

146 posts reblogged (79%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.7 posts.

I added 101 tags in 2021

#original post - 25 posts

#story - 14 posts

#star wars - 12 posts

#katekyo hitman reborn - 9 posts

#asexuality - 8 posts

#unexpectedly - 8 posts

#ace - 7 posts

#poem - 6 posts

#language - 6 posts

#weaving - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 119 characters

#maybe you were meant to be queer? it's unclear because disney definitely did a great job of erasing any chance of that.

My Top Posts in 2021

Warning: panic attack

Enma stares at the ground, trying to stay as still as possible in the hopes of avoiding Hibari-san’s gaze. It shouldn’t be too hard, since Kyoko-san had invited several friends over, and Kurokawa-san had gotten into an armwrestling contest with Ryohei-san, with Kyoko-san and Miura-san cheering them on from the sidelines. But then, maybe that’s the whole problem - Enma’s the only other quiet person in the room.

Next chapter’s out!

4 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 10:57:33 GMT

Look how small my stitches are!

4 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 00:16:53 GMT

my professor, every couple minutes : oh yeah, and there’s this other version of the Ramayana where it’s been rewritten to reflect a woman’s perspective-

my professor, a couple minutes later: I don’t know if that version exists yet, but you can always write it yourself if it doesn’t-

10 notes • Posted 2021-04-25 16:01:32 GMT

I’ve been talking about how I kind of want to try dying stuff for a while now because I don’t really like wearing white but I have white clothes I like, but also don’t want to be white, and todays my mom was like “oh, my dark purple tulips are dying, and I’ll cut them off soon anyways, would you like to try with them?”

Which led to the above product. Not really sure how it’s gonna come out yet, I’m leaving it to dye overnight, but the color of the dye water looks nice, so fingers crossed. And for documentation:

4 parts water to 1 part white vinegar 1 bed sheet (low hopes here, this was a bit spur of the moment, so the sheet’s 60% cotton, 40% polyester)

Heat on stove for one hour. The website I found said simmer, but I was kind of scared of scorching the cloth, so it was under that the whole time.

1 bowl of dark purple tulips, petals taken off and half heartedly torn up Enough water to cover them/double their volume (they float, so kind of hard to tell. I approximated)

Bring to a boil, then let simmer for an hour.

Then I poured the tulip petal water into the sheet and mordant bucket, using a piece of doubled up cheese cloth to catch the plant parts. I squeezed the cheese cloth best I could to get as much petal water out as possible. Then I stirred the stuff a bunch to hopefully the color got everywhere, then poked it with a bunch of sticks to get it all under the surface. Leaving it overnight or maybe longer.

10 notes • Posted 2021-04-16 02:37:48 GMT

Who Stole Away The Moon

One day Ekkreth was walking They found a crowd with fear Grandmother’s shape did they take To ask what scared them here

“Depur took the moon down He stole it from the sky And now no more will rain come So scared we are we’ll die.”

So Maru said to Ekkreth And Ekkreth did go still For Ekkreth’s hiding spots too Need rain or they are nill.

So Ekkreth the old woman Called out for Depur’s word “Oh say how you have done this Which mighty one we've heard”