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astrolynnworld · 11 months ago

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no space

pairing: chris x reader

summary: you’re lapped up on chris in a crowded car and he starts to lose control of himself

warnings: smut! intoxicated, sneaky, dry humping, teasing, hold the moan, dirty talk, clit play, nipple play, cum in pants.

a/n- the request was dry humping but i added plot ofc. and i LOVE it

word count: 876

since matt was the designated driver, he often had to take a lot of people home.

so it didnt come as a surprise to me when i had to lap up onto chris so we could all fit in the car

but, this wasn’t a big car at all. neither was it a tall car, i had to shrink down into chris so my head wouldn’t be hitting the roof of the car

this induced me into putting all my weight onto chris. i couldn’t carry myself lighter to avoid any irritations

not to mention that my initial body placement was seated on his crotch area.

i was gonna sit on his knee..

but i had to move over to close the door and didn’t want to create another commotion by getting back up to sit on his knee

so i just sit there.. on his crotch, trying to keep still to not splurge a reaction

even though i was turned on by the idea of trying to keep quiet in a car full of people as he grinds into me

the car ride was mostly silent as everyone was too drunk and dazed to really carry out a conversation

i daze off out the window as while chris rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes to relax his mind

The roads in our town are very old so there tends to be a lot of speed bumps, potholes, and rough grounds.

i never really was struck by them until matt had driven over the first speed bump.

in response to the car going over the speed bump, my body bounces up for a split second before plopping back down

i hear chris groan as the added pressure to his area shocks him.

i try my best to ignore what just happened as i feel my face start to heat up with embarrassment

no more than a few seconds later, matt takes a sharp left turn at a yellow light

causing me to tilt over into the window, creating more motion that sparks a reaction out of chris

“sorry” matt sputters out as a response to his reckless driving

i adjust myself back upright and i continue to try to hold myself still

that is until i start to feel the imprint of chris’s bulge beneath me, lined up with my ass

i try my best to ignore this

until chris starts to place his hands on both my thighs, pulling me into him a little more

i feel start the heat between my legs as he adjusts his body to sit upright

at this point everybody in the car is all relaxed and laying on each other, fake sleeping.

chris sits up and leans into my right ear

“try not to make a sound” he whispers before playing a soft kiss on the back of my neck

he uses my thighs to slightly pull me back and forth into him without creating a scene

i start to slowly grind my hips back into him as he glides his hands from my thighs to my stomach

he bends down into my neck and starts to bite my ear to hide his pleasure

i relax my head into the crook of his neck as the friction starts to take ahold of me

i keep my pace steady so it continues reign unnoticed by the others

his hands continues to trail up from my stomach and he places them in my bra

starting to tug and play at my nipples as i continue the grinding sensation

i turn my head into his ear and softly whisper “keep playing with me.. please”

i feel his cock twitch at the innocence of my voice that was laced with seduction

he takes his right hand out my bra to slides it into my pants and underwear

where he starts the circling stimulation of my clit as i further grind into him. left hand still teasing my nipple

i bite my lip in order mask the moans that fight to come out so bad

at this point, i realize that matt could probably see us through the rear view mirror and we weren’t as slick as we thought we were being

but this doesn’t stop me from fucking into the pleasure of chris’s hand.

i start whisper into his ear again

“don’t stop chris.. i’m gonna cum if you— just. don’t. stop” i try to speak as my eyes flutter back into my head with my mouth left open, breathing heavy into his ear

he starts to softly buck up into me as he the pace of his fingers circle faster

i close my legs tightly as i feel the warmth of my body spring out an orgasm

chris’s body freezing mid thrust as gently sits himself back down and rests his head back against the seat once more

he removes his hands from my body and starts to lick the fingers that was playing with my clit

“did you just cum in your pants?” i whisper to him as i stare at his tongue that laps around his fingers

“mhm.” he nods as he clears the coat of juices

“fuck.” i say before turning forward and resting my body into his chest

———————————————————————

taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

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lushrue · 5 months ago

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hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader pt 2!

part 2 of this au finally! i'm so glad people like it! comment if you wanna be added to the taglist, already planning pt 3 so there will be more where this came from 💗

your name was announced through the loudspeaker as you skated onto the ice, all covered in sequins and polyester. you’d always thought it was a little bit silly, the conventions around figure skating costumes. that fit that Margot Robbie threw in I, Tonya about the ridiculousness of it? yeah, you’d had a moment like that once or twice. the rough fabric scratched your arms, the glint of the sequins drew focus away from your expressions. but you still felt elegant as you set your mark at center ice, hitting your starting pose in the silence before the music began.

breathe in, breathe out. focus. momentum is everything, remember your character, focus going into your jumps.

in the moment before your routine started, you flicked your eyes up and scanned the crowd. it was something that you’d done ever since your first routine that you took to competition. usually, you were looking for your parents, their smiling faces and the flash of your mom’s digital camera. now, though, it became more curiosity, finding a spot to let your eyes settle when you weren’t looking at the judges’ table. it was then that you saw them. four big, brutish hockey players sat shoulder to shoulder in the stands. the one with the mohawk (soap, you remembered) lifted his hand to wave at you, only for the man beside him (kyle, you guessed from this distance) to swat it down.

the shock must have played out on your face, because you saw price smirk as your music began playing. you let the sound seep into your bones and just like that, it all melted away and you skated.

…

the four of them watched pretty intently for the first few seconds of your routine. price was focused on the placement of your body, how you kept your center of gravity in the middle at all times. he had to admire how precise you were in your movements, like you knew the physics behind all of it. for all he knew, you did. he could tell you were skilled and he liked that about you. talent recognizes talent, or however the saying goes.

kyle was simply admiring your choice of music. Moonlight Sonata, though basic, was like black coffee, he thought. a classic choice that never really got old, but so many things could be added to it to make it new and exciting. and watching you skate to it, he felt like he’d never heard it before. he watched your face more than anything else. you were so expressive, a story playing out in your eyes, and he soaked it all up. it was like reading a novel, and this one was a page-turner.

ghost was watching the lines of your body. it was like you were painting the air as you moved, each flick of the wrist and lift of the leg deliberate and purposeful. it all served to make a pretty picture. every now and again, he’d look at the thin lines your skates left on the ice, the swirls and curves detailing everywhere you’d been. much prettier than the harsh notches he left behind when he stepped out of the rink, he thought. just like you, they were delicate.

soap was far less interested in the artistry or skill of it and more focused on you. the way your hair moved as you spun on the ice, the way your costume clung to your skin. he couldn’t even act as if he wasn’t watching disrespectfully, thinking of what your body might look like under the spandex and sparkles. you lifted your leg and began spinning, and soap thought he might keel over right then and there. ghost nudged him as he adjusted himself on the bench, a silent gesture that told him to behave.

johnny gestured to price behind kyle’s back, getting his attention. “didn’t i tell ya, cap? a right beaut, that one,” he said, earning himself a flick to the head from ghost. price chuckled, turning his attention back to where you were winding up for a jump. two turns in the air and you landed perfectly. he knew you would, you talented thing. “yeah. a beaut,” price responded, a small smile curving his lips.

...

you skated remarkably, in your opinion. it was a relatively simple routine, but with every completed skate, regardless of skill level, came a sense of accomplishment. as you hit your ending pose, you made eye contact with your hockey players in the stands again. ghost’s face was unreadable from this distance, but you caught the pleased expressions of the other three as they clapped for you. soap had a glint in his eyes that spelled mischief and made something in your stomach tighten. kyle was looking at you like the artist you perceived yourself to be, almost how you imagined someone would look at their favorite painting. and price’s face had pride written all over it. you caught an almost imperceptible nod from him, as if to say well done.

you bowed to both sides of the rink and skated off the ice, a performer’s smile on your lips. it wasn’t entirely fake, not like it had been at some competitions. this time, it was born of the idea that four of the men you’d been watching, nay, pining after for a month were finally turning their attentions to you. for the first time in a while, you wondered what someone besides the judges thought of your routine. the worst part was, you needed them to like it. you felt the intense need to please them, keep them coming back for more.

the four of them found you in line for the concessions, grabbing a hot chocolate to soothe your cold bones in between programs. your free skate was coming up next and you knew you’d need a little pick-me-up before then. as you thanked the high schooler who’d poured your drink, you turned to walk away and almost collided with a wall of solid muscle. price, you’d realize as you looked up. “told ya we wanted to see ya, bonnie!” soap’s voice chirped from behind the broad shoulders of the team captain.

you glanced around him, noticing kyle and ghost stood off to the side. kyle was all polite smiles and ghost looked as though he was aware of how much space he was taking up, supremely uncomfortable as people brushed past him. soap was stood off to the other side of price, arms crossed over his chest. then your eyes turned up to the captain himself, feeling a sense of pride radiating off of him. you weren’t sure why; this was a man who barely knew you. but it made your stomach flutter all the same. “good performance you put on out there, love,” he said, the rumble of his baritone voice more compelling when it was directed at you. you’d seen the boys scramble to follow his orders before during a game, but you’d thought it was just his rank on the team. no, you realized, it was definitely the voice.

“thank you,” you replied sheepishly, clutching the warm styrofoam cup in your icy fingers. “i’m glad you all liked it.” kyle spoke up, stepping a bit closer to where you stood. “liked it? i loved it! you’ll have to tell me more about how you choreographed it, the musicality was insane!” “easy, garrick,” ghost’s voice rumbled from where he stood, a bit muffled by the black surgical mask. “don’t wan’ to scare off our pretty bird.” oh, you could get used to that. you spoke up, your eyes flicking between the four of them. “actually, i still have another program to skate.” you hesitated, almost worried you were being too forward. but then you continued. why not live a little, take some risks? “if you all wanted to stay, that is.”

you didn’t have to tell them twice.

taglist: @cadotoast

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meanbossart · 2 months ago

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i know this is a bit of a stupid question, but i was wondering how you go about adding the lighting to your pieces? like when you have a warmly lit tavern room scene, or a moonlit scene, and you have that lovely warm red or orange or yellow or cool blue lighting hitting the characters from one side? i've always wanted to learn how to do that but no amount of experimenting has ever yielded decent results

If you mean what layer modes I use, It's usually Add Glow with a dark version of the color I'm trying to emulate. Occasionally I also use overlay with whatever shade gives me the desired effect. I've been trying to be more experimental and less formulaic with my BG3 art (a habit I had developed from comic-making) so I don't do the exact same thing 100% of the time!

If you mean placement, then that's something you need to get the hang of through practice. If you have any 3D software that lets you play with light sources, that's a good place to start.

CSP has pretty easy-to-use tools to do just that, so you can get a feel for how rimlights would appear on a body if you have a difficult time visualizing it, and then eventually take your own liberties to achieve contrast and the right amount of drama without feeling obligated to stick to what's realistic (When it comes to light, realism always comes second to effectiveness for me).

If you don't use CSP, googling "rimlight reference" or any combo of similar words should wield you some decent material to work with too!

#ask #tutorial #resource #advice

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cxtori · 5 months ago

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Osamu Dazai ✮ Reckless (Angst Version)

summary: you vent your frustrations to Dazai after the crazy stunt he pulled with Fyodor

genre: angst, kiiinda comfort, cleaning his injuries, Dazai being a protective idiot

wc:835

warnings: n/a, some Dead Apple spoilers

tori’s note: I’m posting a second version of this story that will be more lighthearted/fluffy than this one. I just liked the concept and when I started writing I realized this could go two different ways. So I just wrote both lmao. Here's the fluffy version!

You were frustrated. No, that only begins to describe it. You were pissed, furious, irate. Whatever other powerful words there are to describe extreme anger, you were feeling it.

You pour some antiseptic onto the cotton pad in your fingers, the fibrous material soaking up the liquid quickly. You raise it to Dazai’s back and press it against the deep wound resting there.

“Ahh,” Dazai hisses. “Jeez, you could be a little more careful.” You can hear the pain in his voice, but you can also hear the teasing tone underneath it. Your face scrunches in annoyance.

“Shut up. I’m still mad at you,” you huff and continue to clean his wound.

He’d explained what had happened, how he’d been quite literally stabbed in the back with a poison coated dagger. looking at its placement, it’s a miracle the blade didn’t hit his spine. just an inch further to the right and this whole situation could have been very different.

“I can’t believe you left like that. You should have told me,” you say quietly.

“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have worked out like this if I did, you know that.”

And you did. But still. He disappeared so suddenly and the next thing you knew he was working with someone who planned to destroy your home? You knew Dazai would never betray you like that, not seriously. But at the same time, seeing him in that light scared you.

You finish cleaning his back and apply antibiotics and bandages, adding to the many that were already wrapped haphazardly around him.

Once you’re done, you move to stand in front of him and begin to clean the various cuts and scrapes on his front side. You prepare another cotton pad and swipe over the wounds, none of them being severe enough to require much attention.

As you work, Dazai’s eyes are keenly focused on you. He watches as you carefully clean him up, a soft but determined look on your face, though it’s almost entirely hidden by the frustration distorting your features.

A smile spreads across his lips and he wraps a hand around your free one. You ignore him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of falling for his flirty little tricks.

You were both aware of the effects he had on you and, though he didn’t use it against you often, he would use it to his advantage. And right now it was in hopes of getting you to not be angry at him.

As your eyes scan over the marks scattering his body, your vision begins to blur. Before you can stop it, there are tears falling from your eyes. Are these angry tears, sad tears or relieved tears? You have no idea. Maybe it’s all of them at once.

“You idiot. Why do you have to be so careless?” You ask, your voice just above a whisper. Dazai looks at you, his smile slowly fading into a thoughtful but somber expression. He knows you aren’t expecting an answer, but he replies anyway.

“Because I care for you.” And that’s really all it boiled down to. He recklessly puts himself in dangerous situations if he knows that’s what it’ll take to protect his home and friends. To protect you. Even so, you hated his methods.

“I was so worried, Osamu,” you say quietly, afraid that your voice will crack too much if you speak normally. Despite your low tone, the pain and fear in it rings loud and clear. Dazai’s hand grips yours tighter.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to act like you’re working alone.” He doesn’t reply, only drops his gaze to where his hand is wrapped carefully around yours.

You’d had this conversation countless times before. That he is part of a team that is more than capable of handling serious situations. That he doesn’t have to jump head first into danger to solve problems. That he has other’s to lean on. That he has you.

But no mater how many times you said this, it never changed. And it terrifies you.

“It’s just… what if you had-”

“I didn’t, that’s what matters,” Dazai says, cutting you off. His hand leaves yours to rest on your face instead, his palm cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes over your cheek, wiping away your drying tears.

“Please, don’t ever do that again.”

“You know I can’t make that promise.”

He was right. He will continue to keep you in the dark if he knows that’s what it takes to keep you safe, even if you both hate it. There was no point in promising that he wouldn’t.

His hand moves from your face to the back of your neck, tangling his fingers into your hair. He brings your face closer to his, his dark brown eyes looking into yours intently.

“I love you, more than anything,” He whispers and places a kiss to your forehead. “And I only want to protect you.”

And that’s what he’ll continue to do.

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated

#☆彡tori writes #꥟hey queuetie #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai angst #osamu dazai angst #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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abbystanaccount · 7 months ago

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hii! i recently stumbled upon your owen scar analysis where we see most of his scars, and wondered if it was possible for you to the same with abby? :)

Ohhh good idea. The only reason I hadn't yet is Abby only has a couple scars we don't know the origin of, but I can go over every scar she gets!

Abby's Scars Analysis

First, I'll start with Abby's oldest scars, she has a small scar on her forehead and it's the only visible scar on her younger self. Fun fact, Jocelyn actually has this scar and she's mentioned it's from being hit in the head as a kid with a golf club (lol).

Her older model has a similar looking scar on her right cheekbone. I assume she got these either from being hit with a blunt object or a fall, something like that. Her forehead scar interestingly becomes more noticeable as she ages, it even raises a bit in her Pillars model.

Her chin injury from the car crash does not visibly scar in Santa Barbara.

Next is the other visible scar Abby has when we see her in Seattle. Abby is for the most part not scarred much at the start of the game, she gets a hurt shoulder from Jackson and has some blemishes but these are the only scars we can see. (Her bare torso model is completely unmarked.)

There's two small marks on her arms, one more noticeable than the other. To me, the one on her forearm looks semi recent and looks scabbed. They'd come back from Jackson a few weeks prior, so it's possible Abby was hurt on that trip. But I headcanon it more that she was distracted on patrol when she returned and it was a small stab wound, possibly environmental.

One thing that annoys me about these scars though is that in never heals, it looks about the same from Seattle to Santa Barbara.

Now Abby gets some scars after the theater fight. The wounds Ellie gives her is the bite (which heals) and a stab to Abby's left thigh (which she masterfully shakes off lol.) We don't get to see Abby's bare thigh but it's likely that wound scarred.

The rest of the slashes, which seem to be 4 slashes on her arms and one across her left cheek come from Dina. It also seems as though the arm scars are mostly raised and noticeable, while her cheek scar is more subtle and indented like she tried to stitch it and take care of it more afterwards.

Abby’s next batch of scars are from Ellie on the beach… as if she didn’t suffer enough 😒 She gets a slash on her cheek, a slash on the front and side of her torso, multiple slashes on her arms, especially her left arm which she used to block, a deep stab wound in her left shoulder and a stab wound through her chest.

Here I’m showing her post beach fight textures on her Seattle body (the full Pillars body isn’t complete). You can see how deep the wounds are 🙁

I’m thinking she must have rode the boat a bit down the coast and then looked for supplies to help her and Lev before going all the way to Catalina, so she wouldn’t bleed out…

These are my interpretations of how the beach fight scars might heal. You can see some more of that with my various fan arts of TLOU 3 Abby. I drew over the slash placements, and added in the thigh stab and chest stab scar and some other various scratches she might have gotten. I tried to have them look similar to her scars in early Santa Barbara, raised and a bit pink.

Hopefully the Firefly doctors will help her out a lot with the healing of the cuts and the sunburn and she can just chill for a bit 😢

Bonus skins

This new skin isn't canon or anything and neither is the Eighties skin. In that skin you can see Abby's cheek scar under her makeup, which I thought was cool. But the Badlands skin has a brand new scar that goes all across Abby's cheek to her lips. I think this must be a scrape from some sort of weapon that scratched her. The redness on the cheek makes it seem fairly new

#abby #tlou 2 #tlou abby #abby anderson #my screenshots #the last of us part 2 #analysis #tlou 2 abby #the last of us

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maggstar · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐃𝐢𝐞

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when Y/N is moving to a new place, she asks for some help. To her luck, the handsome officer living nearby picks up her call to lend her a "hand".

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, sappy asf, cop!Hee, confession, kissing (tongue action yall know it), mutual touching, oral (f. and m.), 69.

𝐖𝐂: 3.2k

𝐀/𝐍: Hello my lovelies, I'm back (not for long). I have been promising a cop!Hee fic for so long that I've decided to feed yall with a prologue at least. Hope you like it!

Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!! ───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

Summer 2022

"Oh, come on now, we're not even halfway there!" the lilting tone emancipated from afar, shifting through the rooms of the empty apartment to place the piles of carton boxes in their assigned spot.

They were all different sizes, some possessing parts of old furniture or newly bought ones, decorations, and daily-life equipment, carefully packed and branded. It seemed as if the amount kept growing with each placement, countlessly checking the truck.

Moving shouldn't have been such a demanding process, yet Heeseung found himself sighing every minute, constantly puffing after successfully delivering a package. The sweat on his forehead kept amassing, bringing his gaze to the flaming orange star. As if the hot weather wasn't enough, the lack of clouds deprived him of cooling down a little.

He regretted dressing up for the occasion because he only wanted to rip the beige Hawaiian shirt off him. It went well with the iceberg-pleated shorts, but he would have been better without it. At least the brown aviator sunglasses were somewhat helpful, giving off the cool vibe he dearly lacked. It was all an attempt at impressing the female whom he decided to help, postponing everything on his calendar.

With a dramatic sigh, he looked back at the mentioned one, hopping from one leg to another, hips swinging to the sides at each jump.

There was a dazzling smile glowing amidst those moves, radiating bright energy, swaying her head from left to right. The wavy hair created a breathtaking shot in that lavender-colored jumpsuit, soaked in its splashy floral pattern. It all added to the sweet image, complemented by a charming personality.

Heeseung didn't know what about her turned his insides upside down. There were too many factors about that breathtaking beauty to pinpoint one. From her looks to her brains, she was a flawless 10 out of 10. A woman every man could only dream of.

He was one of those men, dreaming about her every night after hitting bed. At this rate, it was turning into a habit. His head would automatically wander to her curvy shape once he shut his eyelids. Her long and slender shoulders were a sight to see, and he imagined running his fingers on them. Sometimes he visualized her powerful thighs, hungering to feel them in his hands. His ultimate wish was to reach her back and squeeze her buttocks as much as possible. He was a pervert for fantasizing about her in such inappropriate ways. However, he couldn't help it.

She was incredibly attractive, and even if he tried to look away, his vision still ended on her. It was unavoidable. She was gorgeous.

"Lee Heeseung! Stop being a baby and help me!" the bundle of joy reprimanded, looking back with knitted eyebrows.

Nothing appeared better right then, content with the outcome of her decisions. It almost made the volunteer forget about the awaiting unboxing. He could sense the exhaustion steadily approaching from the corner, taunting the weary with its impact.

She crouched down to organize the pieces in the corner, not anticipating a figure approaching from behind.

"Oh, you did not just say that," he called out, hands stretching to the sides of her torso, ignoring the loud no's as he came closer to the desired location. At that moment, the secret weapon was released. The victim fought for air, their laughter overconsuming it all, hands trying to stop the intolerable torture.

"Yah! Stop!" they yelled, slapping the boy's arms, squirming in his imprisonment. The imbalance in the position caused them to fall over, bringing the perpetrator with them and landing on the floor together.

Heeseung stopped once his eyes locked with hers, staring into those beaming green orbs, casting rays of bliss.

It was as if he was looking at pure euphoria, smearing its gilt palms on him, like a warm blanket on a cold day, whispering sweet nonsenses. He couldn't cease admiring the view, the corner of his mouth lifting unknowingly. It was immaculate, its face round as an apple, light brown dots etched around its Grecian nose, forsaking their presence at the plump upper lip, overshadowing the bottom half, completing the perfection.

He hoped this moment could last forever, with her beside herself with joy, grinning and holding onto him, pledging its eternity. It didn't have to be authentic, just the thought calming his anxious soul, questioning the length of this point before disintegrating in his grasp.

Yet, staring into her almond-shaped eyes reassured the worried. His fingers ran through her silky hair, body slightly freezing in surprise, gasping at the unexpected gesture. The change in her breathing didn't miss his sight, caressing her head overfilled in worries and pang, hoping to divest them.

If only he could sweep away all of the trouble from her system and hold her close eternally to provide the oughted warmth and comfort. He appealed to the universe to provide her with the needed healing. To replace the bandages and plasters on her crushed soul with long-lasting stitches and disallow the wounds from ever opening up again.

The universe found it amusing that he kept asking for something already there from the beginning, fulfilling all his requests without his knowledge. It was as snug as a bug in a rug, watching over the little one and protecting her in its embrace. It was all there, slanting over her with doe eyes, creating temporary crow's feet.

"You won't go, right?" she asked, swallowing the sudden change of emotions, the numbness and fear heckling to emerge. The despair on her brows drew in, transmitting through as her jaw pulled in.

He shook his head, soothing away the dread with a peck on the rosy cheek, "No. I'll stay with you."

"Promise?" she held onto his collar, pulling him closer till their foreheads kissed. Oh, how much she wanted their lips to be the ones who connected and chafed against each other, devouring one another in ardor. She was foolishly hoping for the upcoming redness to evaporate, not embarrass her in front of the mighty male she so broadly adored.

Was it the bambi eyes blanketing her in love or the warm palm holding her petite hand that made the girl swoon? She couldn't ignore the effects of this fine man in front of her. Her true intentions have been bottled up for so long that they began opposing. They wanted to shout and express the overgrowing desire evolving into a blooming garden of affection.

"Promise," was all she needed to hear to pull him closer and make her dream come true without hesitating. To her surprise, nor did he.

It was like they'd both waited for this spectacular moment to happen, not getting enough of it. Their hands roamed on each others' backs, attempting to draw in the other as much as possible. They practically crushed their noses while doing so, forgetting about breathing for the upcoming seconds. The only thing they could focus on was the bliss it provided.

The ravenous act of love was so passionate that it almost made the woman collapse, holding on to Heeseung's T-shirt. He was in his world, experiencing the most pleasing kissing.

No previous connection could match the intensity and perfection of this moment. It was such an anticipated fantasy that he struggled to fathom her soft lips brushing against his. The way they collided with his was sensational, relinquishing every thought in his brain.

There was only this tingly feeling leading from his chest in between his legs. He was all over the place, but so was Y/N.

In her 21 years of living, she had never been French kissed before, and this was the first time she allowed someone to try it. Despite her strong resentment against the act due to finding it unhygienic, she let the man she dreamed of having for so long play with her tongue. For once, she ignored picturing bacteria transmitting through saliva and wrapped her arms around his neck.

And Heeseung made sure she wouldn't regret it.

As soon as he gained access, he tenderly slipped inside her mouth with his warm and wet tongue. He painted her walls in adore, cupping her cheeks to bring them in. That way, he could also pull her closer and deepen the kiss.

They both found the sounds of wet smacks bouncing off the empty room stimulating, letting out a few whimpers.

"Heeseung, I want you," she started sucking on his bottom lip, voicing her frustration by occasionally biting. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to bring him back from the dazed state she left him in.

"I want you too," his fingers lightly slid down her arms, sensing the change in her heartbeat. It continued grazing over lower, barely touching her skin.

The teasing threw her over the edge. She just wanted him to tear off her clothing and wander his veiny hands all over her chest. To squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples until she couldn't handle it. She wanted to become an utter mess underneath him.

"Please, love me," She felt like an animal in heat, unable to think of anything else than the longing desire in her system. It repeatedly screamed his name in the most alluring way, gluing onto his mouth like it was the last time.

The combination of his lustful gaze and comforting smile was an unbeatable experience. His eyes were the key to his soul, expressing love and appreciation with one beguiling look.

"Can I?" he asked in her ear while playing with her earring, hooking onto the hems of the jumpsuit.

"Yes, quick," she appealed, the urge intensifying each minute. Without having to ask, she began unbuttoning his cotton T-shirt, having a compulsion to rip it apart.

His tongue was back trekking in her mouth, concealing her aching lips in the warmth of his saliva. Y/N couldn't properly focus on the cursed buttons when he delicately declared his delight in the kiss. It was impossible to do anything with him quietly moaning, stumbling over her consciousness.

"Fuck. Are all police officers this hot?" She exhaled at the mouthwatering view ahead. Her eyes rolled when her palms slid against his naked skin, the coldness causing them to flex. She knew about his exquisite physique before but never had the chance to see it up this close.

His muscles had always been visible through any piece of clothing, and Y/N found herself staring at every opportunity. Her hands couldn't stop touching his delicate skin, desperate to kiss and mark every spot. Just picturing him in purple love bites did wonders to her woman parts.

At this point, she was openly drooling over him.

"You should look at yourself," He blushed at the compliment, pulling the piece of clothing off her. His leg pressed against her core right after, adding a log into the fireplace. She closed her mouth to conceal her needs, shutting her eyelids when his knee rubbed her clit. Was she too blatant with her thigh squeezing? Fuck.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he leaned over, tracing her chest and torso with his nose. Seeing her in her undergarments and face scrunched in pleasure spurred his aching shaft even more. The addicting scent of shea butter absorbed every part of her, placing him under a spell with her features.

He placed delightful pecks on her stomach to ensure her comfort and safety, a feeling of happiness and contentment in his presence.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," his moans wiped down her thighs, licking and kissing everywhere. Her insides began burning, and she found herself desperately gripping his hair. The compliment he just dropped on her head blasted through her ears, flushing her cheeks in a rosy pigment.

He had to have a lot of adorers in his past, and she didn't doubt it was the same in the present. His visuals were better than the models on magazines, a mixture of soft masculinity. Looking at him made her gasp consistently, habitually admiring his breathtaking assets. He was a work of art, and she couldn't stop admiring it.

"Heeseung," her breath lingered, staring at the savory growth behind his sweatpants. The outline, which appeared immensely luscious, provoked her intrusive thoughts to yearn for it. To lick and suck on it like candy until reaching a sugar crash.

"Please let me put it in my mouth," the desperation transferred, sitting up to flip sides. He stared at her in shock from the floor with hands above his head, having hers wrapped around his wrists. Her sudden revelation caught him off guard, sensing his friend wholly waking up at the lewd confession.

If it wasn't obvious how much he wanted her to have him her way, he wasn't sure about anything anymore. His heart was merely beating for her, picking up speed in pumping blood around his body. It was inevitable, particularly when she circled her tongue around his teats.

He would lie if he said he had experienced such a dirty act before, twitching and squirming from the kitten licks. He wasn't sure if it being his first time caused such a mercurial reaction or her being the one suckling on them.

Either way, Heeseung wasn't complaining one bit. He permitted her to play with them as she desired.

"You're all I've ever dreamt of," her breath skimmed lower and lower until it recoiled up on his crotch. Both sighed at the highly-awaited instant as if they had been waiting for it to happen forever.

Y/N took in the paradise and rested her face on it, massaging her cheek against it. She was roaming in a daze, omitting everything around and focusing on the growing element beside her.

All these lascivious acts made Heeseung think Y/N was an expert, not having a second to figure out his methods. They were thrown out the window the moment she pulled down his shorts and Calvin Klein boxers in one go, uncovering his nudity all to herself. He goggled at her from the uncatchable pace, leaning against his elbows for balance.

"God, Hee," she wrapped her hand around the leaking material, leisurely smearing the pre-cum on the head.

"Y/N," he hissed, watching his thick cock twitch in her small hand, throwing his head back. Once her thumb circled his tip, his testicles drove in. They uncontrollably pulsated with each hoop, losing control over their equipoise.

Her sparkly orbs, gazing at him from below while gingerly kissing the base, pushed the filthiest groans out of him. He could cum from her lips polishing his member, the delicate touch reminding him of a feather.

"No more teasing, please," his hips raised, pressing his thick cock against her rosy cheek. He couldn't hold his desire any longer, practically begging her to suck him dry.

"Oh? So what do you want me to do then?" her lips entangled around his tip, turning into a feisty smirk.

"Put your tongue on it," he pleaded, his knees turning numb from the ecstasy.

"Like this?" her eyes looked up at him between his legs, sticking out her tongue to draw perfect lines across his treasure. For an answer, she received a loud groan alongside a light thump into the ground. She was playing a dangerous game, but it was too amusing to miss.

"Look at how your cock twitches when I do this," she snickered, licking him from the top to all the way down to his balls. They were also in need of attention, and Y/N didn't forget to engage them in her playtime.

"Or barely lick your head," she demonstrated the act, causing Heeseung to shiver in her grasp.

"It makes me wonder how it'll react if I decide to put it in my mouth," her last word got nearly swallowed as she answered her question, leaving Heeseung in utter disarray. His brain resigned, incapable of handling the sheer amount of pleasure. If it stayed any longer, it would go insane.

"It's so soft," she furrowed her eyebrows upwards, her hands coming back to wander on his buttery skin.

"So tasty."

"So beautiful."

"So perfect."

It hit the back of her throat, face entirely buried into his crotch, satisfied blusters opposing as a reaction. She found it adorable how he desperately held onto her hair, trying to shove himself even deeper. It was so incredible that he struggled to contain his growing lust, prompting him to unravel his aggression.

He wanted to grab her silky hair into a ponytail and mercilessly guide his dick deep down her throat. To watch the lump in it growing and disappearing with each pulse while her eyes looked straight into his.

He couldn't hold it anymore.

He had to taste her.

"Turn around and sit on my face," he conveyed, seductively running his tongue over his lips.

"What?" the shyness transferred to the opposite side, goggling at the depicted request.

"Come on, don't be shy and sit on my face, princess."

Y/N hesitantly looked at the stripped man, who was calmly lying with his arms behind his head, lustfully eyeing her up.

"Ride it until you come down my throat," the nasty invite slipped out his mouth carelessly, putting on a smirk to secure its impact.

"You know I'll lick it all up."

The woman's jaw dropped at the proposition, heavily floundering with her senses. Her interiors thawed at his sensual words, screaming at her to turn around and do as he demanded.

"I don't want you to suffocate, dumbass," she lightly punched his arm, trying to dissipate the butterflies piling in her stomach. She didn't want to seem like a nuisance with her subtle shots at the getaway. However, her confidence wasn't the biggest one out there.

Being on top wasn't the issue, but being that exposed to Heeseung. She always found it uncomfortable to have guys looking at all of her. Relaxing in someone else's arms was a problematic obstacle.

Heeseung wasn't an ignorant person not to notice the modest hints, settling to act rather than unroll the tangle of unnecessary insecurities.

With that determination, he lifted her and placed her on his face without warning to get her raw reaction.

At the same time, he found it foolish to waste a minute arguing.

Instead, he could use it to eat her out and show her immortal magnificence.

"You have no idea how good you look from here," both ended up facing each other's genitals, admiring the glorious piece of art. She stared at him covered in her saliva mixed with precum, its size managing to develop more with each touch.

Heeseung was playfully running his finger around her slick hole. The amount she had produced was more than he could imagine, the sticky material creating squelching sounds. His index traveled upwards, smearing the juices on her swollen clit.

"I could just play with you all day without ever getting bored," his finger disappeared inside her, unweaving a beautiful whimper.

"Just run my finger up and down your pussy until you can't handle it," he smoothly pushed another in, her fluids substituting lube.

"So warm and tight. All just for me," his nose hit her clit, soaking up her scent in an instant.

"Heeseung," she sighed, holding onto his legs for support.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you more, Hee."

...to be continued...

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Taglist: @end-hyphen, @hee-pster, @jakeswifeyy, @gegeetime, @heerated, @jayked, @forjongseong, @enhastolemyheart

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ^^

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@maggstar

#minors: dni #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines

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mardygatorade · 1 year ago

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Please

Aaron Taylor-Johnson

Pairings : Aaron Taylor-Johnson x fem reader

Warnings : SMUT, dom!reader, light choking, unprotected sex, blah blah blah

Summary : You and Aaron are co-stars in a new upcoming film

The comforter of the bed sinks into your body as you lay in bed alone. The room is completely dark except for the faint stream of light peering through the bottom of your hotel room door. It’s almost two o’clock in the morning but sleep is the last thing on your mind. You thought that you would be tired after a long day of filming on set, but your mind is racing.

There is a light knock on the door that breaks the silence surrounding you. When you open it, your heart skips a beat. Aaron is standing there, one hand in his pocket and the other lightly rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey,” he says quietly, his voice sounding a bit raspy. “H-hey. What are you doing here?” You ask, looking him up and down. He is wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt that he had clearly cut the sleeves off of. “I couldn’t sleep. Can I come in?” He asks taking a step past you without breaking eye contact. You nod, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. Aaron looks irritated, like someone had just given him bad news. “Are you okay?” You ask. He looks down at his feet before shaking his head and chuckling lightly. “What’s wro-“ you start, but before you could finish your sentence he steps towards you and puts his hand on your cheek. “You, y/n. God, you are all my problems.” He says breathily, grabbing your hip with his other hand. The contact sends shivers through your whole body, making it near impossible not to rip all his clothes off right then and there.

He pushes his body into yours and you can feel that he is hard in his sweatpants. He pulls away and moves his lips over to your ear, brushing it lightly. “I need you, y/n. I’ve been waiting for so long, please.” He breaths. At this point you are soaking wet, your body begging to be touched by him. All you could do is nod in response. His lips quickly meet yours, kissing you like he’s been thinking about it all day. You match his energy, the kiss growing stronger and more passionate.

He wastes no time grabbing your hips and tossing you on the bed. He takes his shirt off and throws it across the room, doing the same with yours. He kisses you roughly again, needing more before he can take off the rest of his clothes. He is hovering over you, grabbing at your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. His hips grind against yours, both of your pants adding to the friction. Without breaking the kiss he slides your shorts off along with your underwear and tosses them to the side. You reach down and help him take his pants off, his size making your eyes widen. He discards his pants and wraps his had around your throat, the other still gripping at your thighs. His hand placement is driving you crazy, feeling his rings dig into your skin. You reach down to grab his dick and align it with your entrance. When he finally pushes into you, you both gasp out in pleasure.

His thrusts start slow as he breathes heavily into your ear. You’re doing the same, your quiet moans causing him to speed up. “Fuck,” he whispers, his breath on your neck making you shiver. Every thrust hits the perfect spot making you cry out in pleasure. “God, I can’t get enough of you.” He growls, his thrusts getting even faster and sloppier. He lifts his upper body off of yours so that he can watch your back arch with every movement. His deep blue eyes grow dark as he watches every part of you in awe. His pace slows down and he sits up completely. You can see that he is flustered and his actions become a bit shy. This is when you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You sit up so that you are face to face with him again, this time grabbing his neck with one hand and pulling on his hair with the other. You kiss him roughly, causing him to surrender his dominance. You flip over so that you can straddle him, his back now leaning against the head board of the bed. You begin to ride him, causing his breath to hitch. He grabs your hips firmly, guiding you up and down. You keep eye contact with him until he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back in pleasure. You lean your upper body into him so that your foreheads are touching. He bucks his hips up with every bounce causing him to reach even deeper inside you. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” He whimpers, needing to get even further into you. His words make the knot in your stomach tighten, and he can feel that you are close.

“I’m so close,” you moan, speeding up your pace. He continues to whimper in your ear and you know he is close too. “Please, y/n,” He cries, begging for more. “Please.” The rhythm becomes sloppy, and you start to move off his lap so that he can finish on the sheets. Before you can get off, he tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you back onto him. “Jesus, fuck,” he whines, slamming into you even harder. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You scream out in pleasure as you ride out your orgasm on top of him. He whimpers even louder before cumming deep inside you. Tears and sweat stream down his face and the sound of heavy breathing fills the room. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably around his and you try to gain your composure. Your chests rise and fall together while peering into each others eyes in silent astonishment. His hands make their way to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. He pulls you into a slow kiss, slightly smirking against your lips.

#aaron taylor johnson #angus thongs and perfect snogging #robbie jennings #tangerine #bullet train #movies #co star #actor #british celebrities #british actors #smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #robbie jennings smut

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 20

Masterlist

Warning: nightmare, mention of past trauma, Vision gets a little upset, panic attack, fluff and angst

Note: I took some creative liberties in one section of this story. I did do some research but my thinking is if there is a soul realm why can't every infinity stone have one.

Word count: 4.5k

You were exhausted both mentally and physically. You loved spending time with Natasha and Wanda as they brought you to Bryant Park and the New York Public Library (you did get a library card). At the end of your adventure, you got two slices of cheese pizza. Now back at the tower, you wanted to lay in bed and fall asleep. You didn’t realize how exhausting it would be so social. As the metal doors opened to your floor, you were expecting it to be quiet and empty. You were mistaken. Instead, you saw Kate, America, Yelena, and Peter on the couch with a dog. You gasped, eyes glued to the one-eyed Golden Retriever. “Puppy,” you whispered. Kate laughed.

“Well don’t just stand there come say hi,” you walked over, extending your hand to the dog for it to smell you. “His name is Lucky.”

“Or Pizza Dog,” America added on. Lucky licked your hand and it was you needed to drop to your knees and bury your face in his fur. You loved dogs. When you were younger, your next-door neighbor had a yellow lab named Buddy. Sometimes, you went outside to go sit by the fence and pet him. He was never afraid of you.

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “His name is Pizza Dog?” The group laughed which launched them into the story of how Kate found the dog. Which Yelena explained as a ‘cool way to die’ getting hit by a car to save a dog. Kate left the dog in her apartment in a panic and gave him pizza to eat.

“I mean what New York City dog doesn’t love pizza,” Kate defended herself. She had a point. “But Eleanor’s ex-fiancé watches him for me,” you weren’t going to question that one. “I’m thinking about bringing him to the Bartons,” she scratched underneath his chin. “They love him and I think he’ll enjoy all the land.”

“But I’ll miss him,” America said, burrowing her face in his fur. “I’ll miss him so much.” You giggled as the elevator doors opened and Tony walked onto the floor. He was holding an envelope.

“Bishop,” he said slowly. “Why is there a dog in the tower?”

“Because he’s cute,” you smiled, scratching the sides of his head. Lucky’s tongue hung out of his mouth. “How can you be upset with this face?” You looked at the billionaire, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Tony sighed, admitting defeat with a roll of his eyes.

“I think Stark is having trouble saying no to you,” Yelena smiled. You merely shrugged, going back to giving your attention to Lucky.

“Is that a mission, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, pointing to the folder in Tony’s hand.

“Oh right. I got distracted by that,” he pointed to the golden retriever.

“Please Stark you thought about buying an alpaca,” Natasha said from the kitchen.

“This is for you,” he walked over to you and handed it. You took it, not sure what was in the envelope. “It’s not bad. Just your test results.”

“Test results?” Wanda questioned. You looked at Tony and then back to the envelope, trying to figure out what he was saying. Then it hit you like a freight train.

“Oh. OH!” You said, opening the envelope. You noticed that the seal was opened already ripped. He must have looked into it.

“Want to fill us in, bud?” Kate asked.

“You didn’t tell them,” you cringed, placing the envelope in your lap.

“I forgot,” you defended. And you did. With everything going on it was the last thing on your mind. You sighed. “I took the placement test,” it was like you spoke a different language that no one understood how quiet it was.

“Why-why didn’t you tell us?” America questioned. You began to pet Lucky. He knew something was bothering you as he cuddled up against you.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you explained. “I asked Tony to not tell anyone then everything went to shit,” you heard Natasha gasp out a ‘language’ which made you giggle. “Then I forgot about. I’m sorry.” You had every intention of telling them when you found out your scores.

“So,” you looked at the witch. “How did you do?” Looking at Tony, you motioned for him that it was okay to tell everyone. He smiled.

“Well, our girl tested out of reading comprehension and writing,”

“Shocker,” Yelena sarcastically said. You giggled, hiding the blush on your cheeks. It was weird being the center of attention.

“According to the test, those two skills are at a college level,” he continued. You liked the smile on his face, it was like he was proud of you. A warm feeling filled your belly at the thought of someone being proud of you. “As for science and math, you tested around a 6th-grade level which is amazing considering you’ve never set foot in an academic building.”

“See!” Peter said, pulling you into a side hug. “I told you were going to do great!” You laughed, thanking him for helping you study. It was a chorus of congratulations and hugs were given to you. Your cheeks were hurting for how much you were smiling. For once in your life, you felt proud of your accomplishment. The negative words of your father didn’t reach your head.

You called Shuri immediately, getting her phone number from Peter, and she congratulated you. Stating that she told you so and that you had nothing to worry out. When you were done with your phone call, you found your friends in the kitchen on the common floor. “What are you doing?” You asked, walking over to them.

“Thank God! Your back,” America groaned. “She kicked me out of the kitchen.” She pouted and pointed to Yelena.

“She wouldn’t even let me help,” Peter mumbled, picking up a card from the pile. He and America were sitting at the counter playing Uno while Yelena and Kate were in the kitchen. Water was boiling on the stove and Kate was chopping a carrot.

“That's because she almost chopped my finger off,” Yelena said. “And Peter Parker, you burnt yourself boiling water. I can not trust you in the kitchen.”

“But you trust her?!” America exclaimed. Yelena sighed.

“Against my better judgment,” you giggled at Kate’s expression but it quickly vanished when Yelena kissed her on the cheek. They were really cute together.

“What are we making and what can I do to help?” You asked, washing your hands.

“Dumplings, fried rice, chow mein, and wonton soup,” Yelena told you.

“Bucky, Steve, and Rhodey should be coming back tonight and Yelena volunteered our services to cook,” America made Peter draw 2 cards. Which caused your friend to pout but it soon faded to a smile when he placed another draw 2 down. America gasped. “Rude!”

“You made me draw 8,” he defended. “It’s not the end of the world.” You smiled at the interaction. Yelena sighed.

“If I give you the dough recipe for the dumplings can you make it?” The blonde asked you. You nodded and she handed you a tablet with the recipe. There was a time in your life when you hated cooking. It meant that you were left alone and no one was there to feed you so you had to feed yourself. You remembered living off of toast and peanut butter because it was easy for you. You moved to make scrambled eggs and pancakes. But know you loved cooking with your friends around you and their laughter filling the silence. It was comforting. It was a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone.

“Dinner smells amazing,” Rhodey said, helping you set up the table. He was the first one back. You were told he had to make a trip to DC to clear stuff over with a few politicians about the Avenger’s work with the Wakandans and the mission that sent Vision and a few SHIELD agents to South America. You were a little jealous of all places the Avengers traveled to.

“I helped,” America proclaimed and Rhodey frowned.

“Then it’s poisoned,” you chuckled, walking back into the kitchen as the Avengers filed in to take their seats around the table. You put on hand warmers to grab the last dish from the oven.

“Need help?” You jumped at Steve’s voice and spun around to see the American super-solider. His hair was damped, he must have just gotten out of the shower. “Glad to see you up and moving.”

“FRIDAY alerted you and Bucky that I was hurt,” Steve nodded. “Can I have a hug?” Instead of answering, he held open his arm inviting you into a hug. His arms circled you. He was warm, felt safe, and comforting. “Thank you,” you said. Steve let out a shaky breath.

“Scared the hell out of me kid,” you heard a chuckle, pulled away from Steve, and saw Bucky.

“Did I just hear Captain America say a bad word?” Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Glad to see you are safe, doll,” you smiled, taking a step away from Steve. Starring at Bucky’s hands, you found yourself starting to panic. You’ve felt his hands on you before. They were cold, and strong, and caused bruises on your skin. You swallowed the growing fear and held out your hand. You weren’t ready for a hug from him yet. Bucky raised his flesh hand.

“The other one,” you stated. “I trust you, Bucky.” You tried to keep your voice steady. Did he hear the slight shake? Or was he just as nervous as you were to notice? He hesitated and connected his metal hand with yours. Still, it was a shock to your system. You knew it was coming but the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and all you felt was fear. You dropped his hand and forced a smile on your face as you busied yourself with getting the last dish ready. “Hope you boys are hungry,” you said, leading them back to the table. “We made a lot of food.” You set it down and took your spot between Yelena and America. The blonde gave you a questioning look but you gave her a reassuring smile. You were okay. You had another hurdle to climb over.

Dinner was fun. You laughed at the stories Rhodey and the two super soldiers told about their missions. Tony told the rest of the team about your test results. It reminded you of your father and how he gushed and bragged about a test Caleb did well on. But the entire time Bucky kept watching you. You wondered what was going through his head. Was he trying to remember you? Or did he remember and was too ashamed to admit it? Once dinner was done and cleaned up, you said your goodnight to the team and went to bed.

Well, you tried to sleep. You lay awake staring at the ceiling. You were exhausted, right down to your bones but you were afraid to fall asleep. “FRIDAY, can you read to me?” You asked the AI, turning onto your side. You hoped the sound would fight away any nightmares.

“Of course, do you have a specific book in mind?”

“The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin,” was a book on your TBR that you’ve been meaning to read. You figured now would be a good night.

“Right away,” you closed your eyes. “Let’s start with the end of the world, why don’t we? Get it over with and move on to more interesting things…”

You woke up with a silent scream. You barely had enough time to stop the sound from coming out of your mouth. His hands. You could still feel them as he pinned you against the wall or held you down as waves and waves of electricity moved through your body. Scrambling out of your bed, you fell to the floor and put your back against the wall. Breath, you told yourself, breathe. The tingle in your palms began to spread. You didn’t register FRIDAY alerting you that she informed Wanda and Natasha or when the door opened. “Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?” You weren’t sure when you closed them.

“Can’t,” the pressure was becoming too much. “Need,” you couldn’t form the words you wanted to say. Everything was a mess in your head. You needed a way to release this pressure without hurting yourself, the couple, or causing a power surge in the tower.

“I’ll be right back,” you heard Wanda say and rush out of your room. Natasha stayed, talking through your panic. It was helping, the pressure began to lessen. Finally, you heard Wanda and she pushed something into your hands. “Focus your powers on that. Let go, molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug). We are here,” And you did. You heard the familiar sound of your powers dancing around your fingertips and the warmth it caused. You opened your eyes when it stopped, the couple was blurry from your tears but you saw their smiles.

“There’s our girl,” Natasha whispered, whipping away your tears. You surged forward, arms wrapping around her waist as you buried your head in her lap. “Sh, your safe. Your safe.” Your body shook against her and Natasha ran her fingers through your hair.

“Was it a nightmare?” Wanda asked, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” That was the last thing you wanted to do so you shook your head.

“That’s fine. We can just sit here until you are ready,” Natasha said. You turned your head to face Wanda. She held a battery, similar to the ones attached to the machine Tony made for you. Where did she get it?

“Tony gave us a few extras just in case you need them,” she answered your question. “But I do think we need to do some training, maybe it will help you regulate your abilities.” You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” you forced yourself off the Black Widow and climbed into bed. Natasha pulled the blanket over. “Do you want us to stay with you?”

“No, I’m okay,” you finally said. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Wanda said, kissing your forehead. “Come get us if you need anything. Goodnight,” the couple left and closed the door behind them. You traced the spot Wanda kissed. You never received a goodnight kiss from your mother. She was afraid to touch you once you revealed what you could do. You sighed, twisting the blanket in your hands. You wondered what you did to deserve this life you were living and if there were any way to repay them.

You tried to go back to sleep but your room began to feel too small and suffocating. You debated on waking up Natasha and Wanda but you already disturbed their sleep. You began to walk the tower. You enjoyed the peace the tower provided at night. You were alone to figure out your thoughts but close enough to someone if you needed it. “Miss. Y/n,” you smiled at Vision, who sitting by the windows and illuminated by a nearby light. He was playing chess. “What are you doing up?” You walked over to him and sat in the empty chair.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “How was your mission?” You asked him as he cleared away the game he was playing to start a fresh one.

“It went well,” he gave you the first move. “We completed the mission with limited injuries,” you both didn’t speak, finding peace in the silence as you played. Until he broke it, “The team informed me you were hurt. Are you alright?” You sighed, tracing the groves of the pawn.

“I’ve probably been the healthiest and happiest I’ve ever been,” you took your turn. “But sometimes I worry this is all temporary, that the rug will be pulled out from underneath or my demons will come back to haunt me,” Vision stayed quiet as you continued, “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning, unable to keep my head above the water.”

“Do you wish for advise or do you just want someone to listen?” He asked. You smiled, laughing slightly.

“If you have advice I’d love to hear it,” he smiled. There was something about Vision that made you feel connected. Unlike a few others in the tower, Vision could exist in silence. He didn’t want to be the center of attention and he was content with sitting back and observing. There was a natural calming presence around him.

“You were born to a family that didn’t appreciate you,” you recognized the quote from Matilda, the reference made you smile. “You bare the emotional and physical scars of those who hurt you and it’s very unfair. But,” you looked at him. “You are very special, resilient too. So if the carpet you are standing on gets pulled out from underneath you, you have the strength to overcome it. However,” his smile grew. “You have a family that will catch you.”

“Was that a Matilda reference I heard?” He nodded. “I didn’t expect you to be a movie lover.”

“I like to indulge in a guilty pleasure every once in a while,” you giggled.

“Thank you Vision,” you covered your mouth as you yawned. “I guess that’s my cue to try to get some sleep.” You stood up but before you went back to your room you stared at the infinity stone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything,” you suppressed a sigh. You were curious that was why you wanted to touch it. You wondered if it would feel like Wanda’s powers.

“Can I touch the infinity stone?” He hesitated. It was the first time you saw him so unsure of himself. You expected him to say no and you would accept that but he nodded.

“Just be careful,” he warned. You nodded. Your hand shook as you raised it and moved your finger to the yellow stone. Before you even touched it, a short surge of electricity left your finger and the world around you went dark.

Your eyes slowly opened staring into the vast nothingness above you. You sat up, hands skimming the water you were sitting in but your clothes remained dry. Where were you? Where was Vision? Where was anyone? On shaky legs, you stood up. “Hello,” you called out. But your voice echoing back was your only reply. You began to walk unsure of where to or how to get back home. “Hello!” You yelled.

“There is no need to raise your voice,” you spun around but saw no one behind you.

“Whose there?” You questioned. “Where are you?” The voice chuckled. The sound bounced around so you were unable to pinpoint where it was coming from.

“That is an interesting question when I’m here but nowhere. I’m near but very far,” you heard footsteps walking towards you. Out of the darkness you saw yourself. It was like looking in a mirror. It wore the same clothes you wore now, the scar, even the color of your eyes. “I’m me but also you.” It mimicked the sound of your voice.

“Where am I?” You asked. The figure didn’t answer, instead, it titled its head from side to side and you couldn’t help but mirror it. You snapped out of the fog. “Stop that.” It laughed.

“You're in the mind realm, you stupid, foolish girl. Your lucky you aren’t dead,” Well that was a relief. You were beginning to wonder if this was some strange version of the afterlife. “But,” it raised its hands. “I can’t be too upset. I’ve been dying to talk to you,” it began to circle you. You stayed cemented to the spot, trying to call upon your powers but they didn’t answer you.

“What do you want with me?” You asked. Your voice was surprisingly calm.

“There is a problem, an imbalance if you want to call it that,” it stopped walking and stood back in front of you. “And you are going to be the savior or our downfall, the choice is yours.” Your stomach dropped.

“Me?” You questioned. “Why-why me?” You weren’t a hero. You were just-well you weren’t sure what you were. But you were just a kid, just finding your footing in this big scary world.

“Because I chose you. It’s very simple please try to keep up,” it turned on its heels and walked into the darkness.

“Wait,” it didn’t. “Wait, hold on.” You ran after the figure, the water splashing at your every step. “Are you going to tell me what this problem is so I can fix it?” The figure shook its head.

“Nope, I can’t do that. Sorry,” something told you it wasn’t but it did stop walking. “Think of it like a game of chess,” With a wave of its hand chess boards appeared in the darkness. At every board, you were sitting on one side and your opponent was one of the Avengers. “All the pieces have been placed,” you began to walk around, watching the games play out. “But there are thousands of possibilities that could be the outcome. You could lose,” a few captured your king. “But you could also win.” The boards disappeared, leaving one. It was you against Natasha. The image before you began to flicker; changing from you hugging her to you standing above her with a gun.

“No,” you whispered. You looked away as the gun went off. “No! I won’t let that happen.”

“Only time will tell and as the judge, I can’t change the outcome of how I want the match to end,” it closed the gap between you two. Grasping your chin in its hands. Its skin was cold against yours. “I want to make myself clear. I want you to win. Your loss will make my life difficult. But you aren’t ready,” it dropped the hold on you and its appearance began to change. You watched the mind stone form in the center of its forehead. “I gave life to the Vision, powers to the Maximoff twins, and Loki wielded me to enslave others and take over New York,” it smiled and began to float in the air. “I wonder what I’ll give you.” Its fingers began to glow, lighting up the darkness around you. It was like you were watching a movie, moments of your life flashed around you. “I wish you the best of luck and I do apologize, you won’t remember our meeting. You have to understand, it’s for the best.”

“Wait,” it was too late. The figure touched your forehead and you were forced back. Like a string was attached to your waist and someone yanked you back. You began to chant in your mind to remember. Remember. Remember. You had to remember.

You stumbled backward and you felt Vision grab onto your hand to catch you. “Are you alright? Should I get-”

“I’m fine,” you told him. He wasn’t convinced but you were. Your stomach was a little upset and there was a small ache in your head but you’ve experienced far worst.

“What did you see?” He questioned. You titled your head, eyebrows pinched together. “Tell me what you saw.” The grip he had on you tightened.

“Ouch,” he released you. His eyes said his apologies. You rubbed the spot on your wrist. “I-I didn’t see anything,” you said. “Honest. I wouldn’t lie to you, I promise.”

“Right,” he sighed. “I do apologize for my behavior. Have a goodnight,” you forced a smile, a little concerned by what happened.

“Goodnight, Vision,” And you went back to your room, holding onto the wrist that was going to bruise come morning.

Vision watched the young girl walk over the staircase and return to her room. He rubbed the stone, that gave him life, and Wanda her powers. He valued the power and responsibility that came with protecting the stone. Without it, he wouldn’t have been able to warn the Avengers of Thanos. Something was coming. He could feel it but the stone was silent, not indicate what the threat was. All he knew was it involved his new friend and that worried him more.

Taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98 @arualdcg @yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#lightning bug #wandanat x daughter #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #kate bishop x yelena belova #bishlova #america chavez x reader #america chavez x you #steve rogers x bucky barnes #vision #marvel fanfiction #marvel au

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mykelneedssleep · 1 year ago

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My COD roman empire without fail is watches. I feel like I'm the only person who cares so much about everyone's watches but I don't care, I spend too much time thinking about it. It's one of those character design things that I love. Let me explain

Gaz is the only character we see that wears his watch with the face on the inside of his left wrist. The watch on the left means that he is right-handed. Wearing a watch on the inside of the wrist is relatively common for military personnel because it keeps the watch face from hitting the sun so there's no glint, and it allows you to see the time while holding a gun so it's not shocking that he chooses to wear his like this. Gaz is the only character we see do this though, which is particularly interesting in a team such as the 141 who often deals with counterterrorism and places themselves in low-profile situations. In the game we also never see Gaz covering the position of a sniper, he's always the one in the field. Out of the four of them it would make the most sense for Gaz to be someone who wears his watch on the outside since he is able to move his hands relatively freely in the field so he could easily turn his wrist if he wanted the time, but he doesn't. He makes the choice to wear his watch on the inside.

Price and Soap both wear theirs on the outside of their left wrists. Again, right-handed. Soap follows the same logic as my argument about why Gaz could wear his watch on the outside but he also has the added bonus of doing demolitions work. When working on explosives it's more likely that Soap would be looking at the back of his hands than the palms which would place his watch face in his view. Out of everyone, Soap's watch placement actually makes the most sense.

Again, following the same logic as Gaz but opposite this time because Price is more often than not providing cover as a sniper, which would make the most sense for him to wear his watch on the inside, but, again, he doesn't. Also as the team's captain of all people, he should know the time at all times so that he is able to coordinate things with his team but he has to flip his wrist (taking his hand off his gun) to know the time.

Ghost, I think is the most interesting because he actually wears his watch on the outside of his right wrist. Based on just the position of it I would say that he's left-handed but nothing else about him presents that way. His pistol is holstered on his right leg and when we see him holding one he carries it in his right hand. When he has a larger gun he also holds it right-handed (that is right hand on the trigger) he doesn't present as someone who is left-handed. It's possible that he is ambidextrous and simply shoots as a right-handed person would but we don't get any more evidence of that. Ghost's watch placement actually makes the least sense when you consider that he's usually a sniper, because while Price has to rotate his wrist to see the time there's no way that Ghost can tell time as a sniper because there's no way he's taking his right hand off the trigger to turn his wrist to tell the time. So either he's switching his shooting hand which doesn't make any sense or he simply cannot tell time which also doesn't make sense. There is possibly a backstory reason for why he wears his watch like that but if there is I don't know it and I would really like to because it genuinely bothers me so much.

Farah doesn't wear a watch at all which you would think- similar to Price- as a leader, it would be important for her to know the time but it's not a case of inconvenience she literally has no way of telling the time unless she has some sort of pocket watch or something on her person. She would have to ask someone else, likely Alex (who does wear a watch, outside of the left wrist in case you're wondering because of course I had to check) for the time if she wanted to know.

As far as I am aware we don't see Laswell wearing a watch. It could be that she doesn't wear one or just that we don't see it because almost every time we see her we either don't see her wrist because of the camera shot or she's wearing something that covers her wrist. I can't imagine that someone like Laswell wouldn't know the time at any given moment of the day so I'm just going to assume that she has one and we can't see it. I'm also going to assume that she would wear it on the outside of her left wrist as I believe that she's right handed based on the way we see her pick things up and how she carries her gun. I'm saying likely the outside as well because we often see Laswell on a computer or working on some paperwork which would place the back of her hand upward (same argument I made with Soap) so it would make more sense for her watch to face outside. Laswell is also the most civilian of all of them so she is more likely to follow civilian customs like wearing your watch on the outside.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk please ask me to talk about it more because I will

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itsawhumpsideblog · 8 months ago

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The Safehouse, pt. 17

CW: for institutionalized slavery, mentions of abuse, treatment of people as things, medical procedures (x-rays, IV placement), hospital setting, brainwashing

Advice from the Box Boy Liberation Movement:

The type of conditioning rescuees undergo is impossible to shake off lightly. Do not worry, and above all do not take it personally, when they are unable to believe your reassurances. While you should attempt to defer to rescuees' choices, if they are able to make them known, there will be times that it is in their best interest to continue a course of action against their preference. [2] Use your best judgement in deciding whether to proceed in such an event.

[2] One common form of this is the decision to pursue necessary medical treatment for a frightened or reluctant rescuee.

Mikey's breath hitched as Angie eased the car over a speed bump and she couldn't help sneaking a look at him to make sure he was alright. She was trying to be careful, but it was hard on some of these older roads. Angie reminded herself that the ordeal was almost over and next time Mikey got in a car, his injuries would be repaired and braced and he wouldn't be so vulnerable to the condition of the roads. She reminded herself how it had been with Nathan, how badly he had suffered during the ride to the hospital but how much easier the drive home had been, once his leg was set and wrapped and the painkillers had kicked in.

It was hard to tell if Mikey noticed when the ride was rough, although he had obviously reacted; he was staring, wide-eyed, out the window as the neighborhood passed them by. Angie smiled at him and reached over to pat his knee. He looked at her with that owlish gaze, as if he was seeing everything for the first time. Maybe, in a sense, he was.

"We'll be there in about ten minutes," she said, just to fill the silence. "We'll park and then I'll text our contact and she'll come get us. Should be easy." Mikey nodded and went back to staring out the window. Angie debated turning on some music, but she looked over again, taking in the rigid set of his back, his clenched teeth, the nervous movement of his eyes, and decided against it.

When they finally arrived, Angie parked and texted the number she had been given. Here, spot 27 in front of door 2. She hit send and reached over to help Mikey remove his seatbelt.

"Okay," she said, "there you go. Watch your arm- you always do, but still- and the other one- and there you go!" She was trying to sound cheerful, in hopes that he would relax, but it didn't seem to be helping much.

"It really is going to be okay," she went on, in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. "And I promise I'll be there the whole time. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Okay?" He looked in her direction, almost meeting her eyes, and nodded. It was hard to tell whether he believed her or believed that this was the reaction she wanted. Angie tried not to sigh.

They hadn't been waiting more than a few minutes when Angie's phone buzzed with a text and then a woman in scrubs pushing a wheelchair appeared behind the car.

"Here we go," Angie said, still with that determinedly cheerful tone. She hopped out and waved to the woman. "Ready for us?"

"I sure am. I'm Wanda, I work with Dr. Silva- and we have a number of other colleagues in common, obviously." She winked at Angie, who couldn't help but smile.

"This is Mikey," Angie added, bending down to help Mikey out. It wasn't easy, but by holding him around the waist and supporting his right elbow, they managed.

"Nice to meet you, Mikey," Wanda said. She patted the back of the wheelchair. "Have a seat and we'll get you right in there. The story we're telling is that you were in a car accident- I don't think that'll be too hard to believe and it'll give us an excuse to get you right through the doors and into somewhere with a little more privacy. Okay?"

Mikey nodded. He shuffled around and lowered himself into the chair, placing his right hand carefully in his lap. Angie wondered if she should bring the pillow and then decided to leave it.

"Here we go," Wanda said, and pushed Mikey across the parking lot.

The closer they got to the door, the more obvious it was that Mikey was struggling. Angie could see it first in the way he hunched his right shoulder, as if he was trying to curl up and make himself smaller. He began to tremble and when she saw his face, his lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes were closed. Angie reached over and ruffled his hair, just to remind him that she hadn't left, but he didn't respond.

"Poor kid," Wanda said sympathetically. "Been with you long?" With another glance down at her patient, she added, "For his sake, I hope not." Then she seemed to hear herself. "Not because of you, of course- just that if he's been with you and waiting for an appointment- Oh, sugar, you know what I meant!"

"I know exactly what you meant," Angie replied, laughing. "And he's been with us for a couple of weeks already. It was tough to get him scheduled."

"It can be. I'm glad they found time, though."

"Me too. And he will be, too- or at least he will once it's over, anyway."

Angie had been in emergency rooms a handful of times in her life, but never had she gone back to a private room so quickly. There wasn't a wait at all; Wanda paused only long enough to tell the nurse at the desk that she would take the patient's vitals herself and they kept walking. At a big pair of double doors, Wanda pushed a button and steered Mikey quickly around a corner, down another long hall, and through a second set of doors. Angie hoped she wouldn't have to find her way back alone.

At last they came to a room with the door shut and Wanda nodded to it. "Will you get that for us?" Angie did, and pulled it shut once they were inside.

"Here's home, sweet home for today," Wanda told Mikey. He finally opened his eyes and looked around at the white walls, the curtain, the bright light above, and Angie watched his face go pale- or perhaps, more pale.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm going to be right here, remember?" Mikey looked up at her with big eyes and nodded as if he didn't quite believe her.

"Let's get you into a gown and we'll head out for x-rays," Wanda went on. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner you go home and start to feel better, hmm? Angie, will you help him get undressed while I find him a hospital gown?"

She bustled out and Angie helped Mikey out of his clothes, just as she did at home when it was time to sleep, and then folded his things and set them neatly aside where he could see them and be reminded that they were not being taken away.

"Here," Angie said, "Let's close the curtain so you can have some privacy." She started to pull it shut and then realized that Mikey's eyes had gone very wide and he was shaking his head vehemently.

"No?" Angie asked. "You want the curtain open?" He nodded hesitantly. "Okay, we'll leave it. It's up to you." He nodded again, shaky but clearly grateful.

Mikey sat on the edge of the bed in his undershorts, shivering from nerves and cold. He had understood when Mistress explained to him about the surgery, and he knew he ought to believe her but... something in his brain, more deeply rooted than her promises, could not shake the certain knowledge that he was back at a WRU facility.

It looked too much like one, for one thing, although the crowd of people in the first room had been comforting, for a moment. But maybe this was the wing where they housed the bad pets, the ones who needed so much work done that they couldn't be kept. The walls were the same shade of blank white, easy to clean because stains showed up so well. The light was bright and made to be shined in his eyes while they did whatever it was they intended to do. And the curtain would keep anyone passing by from seeing what happened to him. That was why he hadn't wanted Mistress to close it.

But when the nurse came back and she and Mistress helped him into a thin gown that barely covered all of him, Mikey tried to take heart. The presence of the two women was comforting and up until now, Mistress hadn't hurt him even once. Mostly, she helped him. She made sure he got enough to eat and talked to him and let him follow her around the house when he felt restless. He hoped she really would stay, like she had promised.

Once the gown was on, it was back into the wheelchair for x-rays, a concept with which Mikey was not familiar. Maybe he had been, once. He wondered vaguely, as he sometimes did when he let his mind go off wherever it wanted, if he had ever been in a real, for-people hospital before. Mistress tucked a blanket around his bare legs and off they went, all three of them. He wished he could have brought his clothes. He hoped they would still be in the room if he got to go back there.

The x-ray room was terrifying. There was a big table in the middle with some kind of machine over it and a booth in the corner. Mikey did not want to get on the table, did not want the machine to do whatever it was going to do, did not want to know what was in the booth.

"I promise it'll be quick," Mistress said. "Just climb up on the table and we'll help you lay down and we can get it over with. We're just taking pictures, it won't hurt."

He did not believe her, but an order was an order and Mikey climbed, shaking, out of his safe wheelchair with the warm blanket and got up on the table. Mistress helped him lie down and then the difficult part began.

It turned out that they wanted pictures of his arms and shoulders and to get them, they had to pose him just so. They began with his right arm, laying his hand flat on the bed and then turning it over for another angle. It hurt, but no worse than his hands usually hurt.

But then, the nurse took his left arm and moved it, something nobody had done to him since he was last in a facility for unwanted Pets. Mikey knew better than to twist away from her, but his stomach turned over at the movement and he could feel the blood drain from his face. Mistress had promised this wouldn't hurt, he thought.

"I know, honey," said the nurse, although he was sure she did not. "We'll hurry. Poor kid." She went back into the booth in the corner.

"I'm right here," Mistress added. She was holding his right elbow, very gently. "Almost done."

There was a pause during which none of them moved, and Mikey felt, as much as saw, darkness closing in around the edges of his vision. He was afraid he was going to throw up.

And then it was all over and they were sitting him up and he could curl up around his left arm and rock himself, the way he did when he needed to calm down. When they tried to set him on his feet, it turned out that his legs would not hold him. Mikey felt himself begin to panic at the idea of falling again, but Mistress grabbed the wheelchair and shoved it behind him, and when he fell, it was a controlled fall onto the seat with the nurse's arm around his back to help him down. They had to pick his feet up for him and put them on the foot rests, but at last they were leaving that horrible place.

"That was the worst part," the nurse was saying when Mikey's hearing came back properly. "I'm so sorry, honey. Nothing worse than an IV left, though."

Mikey was pleased to find that they went back to the room where his clothes were, where Mistress was kind enough not to shut the curtain. They put him back on the bed and this time the nurse went to his right arm.

"We're going to get an IV started," she told him, but she was looking at Mistress, too, as she spoke. Maybe she needed permission for each step. "Get you some fluids and painkillers, too."

He didn't know what that meant until she came over with a bag of something and a needle. Mikey stared at it and felt like he couldn't breathe. Every time he thought he knew what was going on here, they came and did- something like that to him. He knew where that needle went and he knew what happened when they put it in a Pet's arm.

But he couldn't get away. The nurse inserted the needle and clicked open a little piece of plastic and Mikey began to cry. He shook his head, wishing desperately that he could talk, plead, beg them not to take his mind away again. He would promise to be good, do whatever they wanted, even with his arms bad. If only they would just...

As he had known it would, the world went soft around the edges. Somehow, impossibly, he could feel the pain in his arms melting away. The world was quieter now and slower. He closed his eyes and sniffled and waited for his life at the Safehouse to disappear. It would have been nice to say goodbye to Nathan and Francis, even if he would forget them soon.

Mikey couldn't feel time passing, but when he opened his eyes, there was less liquid in the bag hanging next to him, so he knew it had. The soft feeling was still there and the pain in his arms was... not gone, but so much less that he sighed with pleasure. Mistress was stroking his hair and he wondered if it was all over and he would be allowed to go home, to see Nathan and Francis and sleep in his own bed.

Then his eyes flew open. He remembered them. Whatever was in the bag, even though it made him feel sleepy and light, he still had his memories. He looked down at himself and found that his hands and arms looked no different. He went to lift his left arm, which hurt but somehow not as much as it usually did, and Mistress gently pressed his arm back down to the bed.

"Not quite yet," she said and smiled at him. "They'll come get you soon, though."

Mikey slept again and woke when the door opened and a tall woman with dark skin and dark hair in a bun and wearing a long, white coat came in. She was holding a clipboard and she shook Mistress's hand and she smiled at Mikey. He heard her say, "His shoulder is badly dislocated. The dislocation wasn't reduced properly, if at all, so we'll take care of that while he's under. His left arm is broken in several places and his right hand is completely smashed- that's the technical term." She and Mistress laughed, but they didn't sound like it was really funny.

"Hi Mikey," she said to him, and he tried to look attentive. "I'm Dr. Silva. I'm going to perform your surgery. Okay?"

He tried to nod, but nothing happened. "Sorry," Mistress said, grinning. "He's a little loopy."

"Perfectly okay. We'll just get you asleep, Mikey, and then head to the OR. It'd usually be the other way around, but I think this will be less upsetting for you." She looked over at Mistress, who nodded.

Then they did something with the needle in his arm and the doctor said, "Can you count to ten?" He couldn't, but it made no difference, because he was asleep before he knew what was happening.

At home, Francis and Nathan were in their usual positions on the sofa while Tim bustled about the kitchen getting lunch ready.

"You doing okay?" Nathan asked. Francis clearly was not. His face was still sweaty and he kept sighing and shifting uncomfortably.

"Francis is in working order," was all he said, however.

"I don't think he is." Nathan's voice was teasing, but sympathetic. "You feel pretty bad?"

"Francis is anxious. Perhaps it is the fever."

"Perhaps it's worrying about Mikey."

Finally Francis pushed himself up on shaky arms and turned to look at Nathan. "Francis is worried that Mikey will not be himself when he comes back," he said quietly.

"Like- what do you mean?"

"Francis is worried they will erase him again."

Nathan nodded understanding. "I know, man. But they went to the same place they took me and I promise you, it's just a normal hospital. For people. They don't erase anyone there, not even pets. I'm sure of it."

"Are you really sure?"

"Really sure."

"Then Francis will try to believe it."

Next time: Mikey wakes up after surgery.

Master List

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds, @honeycollectswhump @taterswhump, @starfields08000 @whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinth

#bbu #box boy universe #box boy whump #whump #the safehouse #pet whump

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thumpypuppy · 9 days ago

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hi! i really love your isat stuff, especially all the drumset parts. do you have any tips for writing drumset parts? like in "i wont let you go home" and "how can you help me stardust"?

Yooooo you summoned the black sheep (or I guess crow, more accurately?) of the studio, your very own Sandra Baker!

Let me start off by saying this: Rule of Three, baybee! Don't repeat stuff more than three times. It's not hard-and-fast, but it'll get you there. So like…

A A A B

C A B D

See? So like on the fourth measure play something different, and then in the scope of four blocks of four measures play that last set of four in a totally different way. It breaks up the monotony and keeps it fresh.

Okay so let's jump into the songs and break some things down.

I won't let you go home is fully unhinged so… we start on some thrash/punk drums, some late 80s metal drum fills, throw in some spicy rides, it's really about carrying the energy of the piece because drums set the tone. Go listen to some 80s metal, listen to the old punk scene, figure out what people were doing when they were reinventing how drums were played, and then take some time studying where all that came from in the first place, from early jazz into the bebop scene, into psychedelic funk and jazz fusion and prog and… you gotta study your music history.

From there we launch into a chill single time beat, we're keeping time real simple on the hat and snare, but there's still a groove in the kicks. It's SO important to keep the groove, especially when you're working with your weird sister who is allergic to writing things in 4/4 most of the time. This part is pretty straight-forward, so the kicks are doing most of the work here adding weird stutters and triplets, and we have some crashes punctuating a few important parts in the music.

At about a minute twenty we drop into some tight punk drums, so very in-the-pocket, closed hats, this time the kick and snare are keeping the obvious time, so we put a little stank on the hat until we open up full-tilt and head into the next section.

Okay the next part I'm sorry not sorry it's just free jazz and I can't explain that. Go listen to like… Weather Report or KoenjiHyakkei or something… because sometimes it's okay to be weird, just have some care and intentionality behind it, like know what you're doing so you can do it wrong the right way, yeah?

Okay next section, the breakdown… so it's like… half-time feel, put an obvious hat smack on the off-beat so we know where that is, and then just kinda go full prog? Big drums, lots of stadium rock fills, but keep that beat so we know when to headbang, right?

Then like leading into ~2:50 we gotta pick it back up, go full classic punk for a minute, so we keep that half-time feel but imply we're ramping with the snare, and then the classic crash mute and a bar of silence before we're back to OY OY OY.

Then we hit a kind of slower fill that drops into this silly blastbeat breakdown where we're doing these nutty kick fills and gravity bomb blastbeat whatever they are snare rolls while keeping the breakdown feel with big crashes.

OKAY so that was a lot. The big takeaway here is this: Go study the history of rock music starting from like… maybe the mid-1930s… and go from there. Also, make sure you keep the groove. You can be weird, just make sure it's obvious when you're supposed to headbang.

As for "How can you help me, Stardust?", I am so sorry not sorry about this. 🤣

So in the first section you'll kinda hear that I played around with the snare placement and almost gave it like a reggaeton or bossa nova feel? You can do that… you just set up this expectation that we're going full punk and then you can drop a samba beat in your metal and like what is anyone gonna do about that? Dance? Enjoy it? Exactly.

Honestly the rest of this song I got nothing to say that I didn't say for the last song, so the takeaway here is just like… you can kinda do whatever if it grooves.

So like… if you're programming drums instead of playing them, picture the kit and how it is or isn't physically possible to play it, etc. Generally speaking you only have a stick in each hand and two feet, so be mindful of that kind of stuff and don't hit like… a snare and a crash and a china all at once…

Also like… a really fun thing I got to do in DOOMTROID was come up with kick patterns for djent sections, so like… maybe we're playing a section in 7/8, so I'd write a kick pattern in 5/8 and let it drift until it came back around, because it makes a fun dynamic pattern, and then we're playing 7/8 but we still gotta groove, so if you play 4 over 7 you get a measure of four hats on the downbeat, but the next measure has three hats on the off beat, so you have this one regular element that keeps a simple beat, you have the snare showing up to tell you that we're in 7/8, but then you have a 5/8 pattern repeating under all of that… and so it's hella fun to just goof around on stuff like that.

So like… even if you're just playing in 4/4 you can do fun stuff like… let's just talk about the snare for a second.

1 & *2* & 3 & *4* &

Basic stuff, snare on the 2 and 4, but can we get spicy?

1 e & a *2* e & *a* 3 e & a *4* e & a

1 e & a 2 *e* & a 3 e & a *4* e *&* a

See? You can do weird stuff, especially if you just play the hat on 1 2 3 4. Play around and make your stuff sound different.

Your homework for this week is to go listen to at least three songs from each decade starting from 1930, make sure you get plenty of bebop, jazz, and prog in there, and then take a song you've already written and change the feel/genre by only changing the drums, and then share it with the class because we all wanna see how great you are.

(The last part is optional based on your comfort level but I'm still gonna low-key bully you into sharing your music because visibility and networking is important in this industry and I definitely wanna give folks a hand up where I can.)

This whole thing would probably better as a video, so if I can catch a minute to stop by the studio maybe I'll stream all this with audio examples.

#game audio #game soundtrack #drums #composing #indie composer

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fromtenthousandfeet · 5 months ago

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What is it gonna take for HYBE to give Jimin the support he deserves? Will it ever even happen? Because I'm tired of feeling so miserable all the time. I even wanna delete all my socials and just find something else in my life to fixate on. I feel terrible for feeling this way because it's like I'm abandoning Jimin (even if I'll still be streaming his music). I'm tired of all of this, it's not good for my mental health at all.

All this corruption and evil simply can't keep winning like this, can it? Are we just supposed to make peace with JK being BTS' "break out star"? Really? I naïvely thought that they'd abandon their sinister plans after seeing how poorly he's been performing in comparison to the crazy amount of push they've been giving him. What the hell is going on at that company?

Anon,

I'm sharing with you this poor quality video of Michael Jackson calling out Tommy Mottola and Sony because it's worth remembering that record labels using and abusing their artists is the rule, not the exception. Not even The King of Pop was immune.

youtube

At around 3:20, MJ mentions that he "owes" the label two more songs and then he's a free agent. He says he writes about 120 songs per album, so he'll just pick two songs he's got hanging around and then he's done.

I bring this up because I suspect Jimin might be doing something similar. Having as few solo songs under Big Hit as possible is smart, because he likely won't own the rights to his own music if/when he leaves. The less they own, the better. Writing and recording two albums at once was efficient. Also, by keeping his marketing budget (ads, playlist placement, music videos, etc.) as small as possible, he'll keep more of the album sales and streaming revenue. All those expensive marketing costs are deducted from an artist's earnings, so best to keep them at a minimum if the plan is to make the most money possible. Between the writing credits, lower marketing budget, and the high profile brand ambassador deals Jimin's got, I feel like he's positioning himself to create his own company or label. This is my hope even if I have zero proof.

The way FACE went down really bothered me. I knew the company was behind Jimin's sabotage immediately and it drove me crazy that it took so long for others to catch up. But look at the response to MUSE. Jimin really does have an army of dedicated fans who are calling out the company's (intentional) incompetence 24/7. In reality, it's fun to watch PJMs catch the company and create a stink. It's almost like a game. Don't take it too seriously. Plus, in the long run, who cares about charts? The quality of the music itself is far more important.

Once again I've droned on way too long, but hear me out. I think HYBE/BH is investing so heavily in JK because they have to. BTS isn't going to last forever, and if Jimin leaves, they've lost a huge revenue source. But please trust me when I say they have an uphill battle before them because JK doesn't currently have the artistry or charisma to enthrall the west the way Jimin does. Don't expect them to abandon ship anytime soon, though. And if he does make it big, so be it.

I really wish BTS fans, or at least PJMs, didn't feel so much hate for Min Hee Jin because there's a lot to learn about Bang Si-hyuk and HYBE when you follow the whole ADOR saga. There are some astute NewJeans fans out there who've sized up Bang PD so well and their observations help explain Jimin's treatment by the company. He breaks people down (the idols, staff, and fans) using the "death by a thousand cuts" method. Endless small transgressions and slights, that individually appear like no big deal and are therefore not taken seriously by the media or fans, but collectively are detrimental to careers and one's mental health.

You know what? If Jimin announced he's leaving the music industry after military service, I would say congratulations and thank you for all the amazing music and performances during your BTS and solo career. Have a wonderful life! While I don't think he'll do that, it's worth remembering that none of this is all that serious. Enjoy his music. Take a break from social media, because in the real world nobody cares about this stuff.

Anon, did you make to the end of this long post? Way to use the umlaut on naïvely!

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justanotherfanartist · 8 months ago

Text

heeey guys little social help here? (poll at the end)

get ready for a rare real life lore dump (yippee) because I have a social scenario I’m not sure how to handle. this is your chance to have input on my life like some sort of rpg (if you’re into that kind of thing lmfao)

(I really really hate outing my age range like this but I feel like it might impact peoples choices so. just know I’m on the older end alright)

So, I went to this nearby jazz festival on Saturday. Basically, it’s an event that pulls a bunch of local highschools and their upper and lower level jazz bands together (I’m in my schools lower level group) to compete for awards and finalist placements and stuff like that (very fun very cool experience every time) and something that’s become a habit of mine is scanning each group for anyone interesting and it just happened that there was this guy from another school’s upper band that really stood out to me.

He is genuinely one of the prettiest guys I’ve ever laid eyes on, bro is GORGEOUS and also an amazing trombone player with super clean tone (and was part of a killer trombone soli) so naturally I’m pretty smitten. For real as soon as you start playing an instrument yourself “being good at an instrument” is immediately something added to your type which makes going to these things an interesting experience.

Anyways, I thought he was attractive enough to try and shoot my shot (I do this kinda thing every so often especially if I think I’ll get rejected just as a confidence booster. works like a charm btw) so I made up my mind that hey, we all stash our instruments in the same place, so after the finalists concert when everybody goes to grab their gear and pack up I’ll go up to him and ask him if he wants my number before we all have to leave for the night. Pretty non instrusive introduction that guarantees a short conversation and an excuse for him to leave if I happen to make him uncomfortable, that sort of thing. (I love planning out social interactions in my head before I have them)

(also this is fr the strat bc a) “hey do you want my number?” gives the person a choice and b) if they do say yes awkwardly in the moment but regret it they can always just decide not to text you; it puts the ball more in their court rather than you getting their number and texting them first, that sort of thing)

so that’s exactly what I did. I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around, and the interaction went like this:

“Hey, you’re one of the trombone players from (insert local highschool’s upper band) right?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering, would you want my phone number? :D”

“Oh, I’m actually not looking for anything right now.”

“Hey, no problem.”

“Thanks though. :)”

“Yeah ‘course!”

and then we split ways.

As of today I found their jazz group’s page on instagram (basically, I’m going around and following all the ones that I thought were really good, including his who placed first just ahead of my school’s upper band in second)(we were psyched btw cus their group is known for crushing everyone so being up there second only to them felt pretty good) and I realized he’s probably following them and I actually did manage to find his page, which is privated (oddly enough he happens to be followed by someone who I very loosely know) so it’s request to follow only.

My question is would it be weird to request to follow him? Based on my instagram page and what I have up he might not be able to recognize me but I’m guessing he’ll know it’s me just because of our interaction and the follow request, but I’m not sure if I’d be breaking a social boundary if I did that.

I don’t intend to hit on him or push him for romance or anything like that— I got a clear and polite “no thanks” and I’m not going to infringe on that full stop (boundaries are to be respected always). Blanket statement I think this guy is cool and an impressively good player, I’d legitimately want to see him perform again or possibly be friends (I’m starved for jazz friends) but I’m just reallllyyy worried it’s gonna come off as creepy or boundary breaking to request a follow so I’m not sure if I should or not.

(my logic is that he already rejected a request for communication so requesting to follow him is essentially doing the same thing again and might come off as creepy or pushing it and the last thing I want is to make this guy uncomfortable. on the other hand it could be seen as completely harmless or even flattering depending on the person but I’m really not sure.)

mutuals give me opinions bc I’m curious what you think (also I’d really appreciate it if you picked something other than maybe lmao or left me a comment of your thoughts or smthn like that. I may be overthinking this)

(asterisk is for extra info for the first poll option)

*regardless of your intentions, which he is unable to truly discern, but will probably assume is still romantic pursuit

#I love being unsure of social rules or boundaries

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