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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

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26 + 70 please! I'm loving these!

Anonymous asked: 89 + 70 to ease ur boredom?

26. Massage Fic + 70. Locked in a Room + 89. First Time

from fanfiction trope mash-up prompts here

some VERY OLD prompt fills I never got around to finishing! im talking like 3 years old. better late than never? this fic has a similar conceit to this one I posted last year, but it’s not like newt and hermann aren’t probably quarantining themselves constantly after lab accidents LMAO. sexy/not SFW stuff under cut

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“Mandatory isolation,” Newton says. “This blows.”

Hermann says nothing, choosing instead to aggressively turn a page in his book. He’s already said plenty to Newton on the subject, and he doesn’t imagine anything he has to say now will provide any new insights, or indeed even be moderately politer. Newton has—really, really—royally screwed things up this time. More than anything he has before. Hermann finds his anger over it all to be quite righteous, really. “Hm,” he hums instead. He turns another page.

“One whole week,” Newton says. “Locked in, nothing to do…”

Hermann grits his teeth. Truthfully, the book is for show, and for the excuse to ignore Newton, but it’s very hard to pretend to concentrate on it when Newton won’t stop talking to him. It’s especially irritating considering Newton is saying absolutely nothing of value. Then again, when is he ever? “Is there something you’re trying to say to me?�� Hermann says.

Newton shakes his head. He’s playing with one of the little stress toys he keeps in his desk (a large foam strawberry), squeezing it over and over. “Oh, nothing. Just trying to make small talk.”

One whole week, locked inside the laboratory after one stupid little mistake meant Newton’s scalpel slipped where it shouldn’t have on his kaiju sample. One whole week of bloody self-isolation to make sure they don’t…infect the Shatterdome with anything they might’ve picked up in the resulting explosion. Not even a day in and Newton is already acting up. Kaiju withdrawal, perhaps, having been explicitly forbidden from working on any new samples until their containment passes. Squeeze. Squeeze. Hermann flips another page in his book. Newton clears his throat. “I know you’re not actually reading that,” he says.

“Aren’t I?” Hermann says.

Newton tosses the foam strawberry in the air with one hand and catches it with the other. “Tell me one thing that’s happened so far in it. Actually—tell me the title.”

“The title,” Hermann says, “is—”

“And no peeking,” Newton says.

This stumps Hermann. He slams the cover shut and makes to chuck the whole thing at Newton’s head, but decides better of it. He could get written up for workplace violence or some rubbish of that sort. Plus, without access to medical until the end of the week, Hermann would be the one who had to tend to any resulting wounds. Not worth it. “Fine,” he says. “I’m not reading it. Are you pleased, now that you have my undivided attention?”

Squeeze. “I guess,” Newton says. He smiles at Hermann. “Want me to suck your dick?”

This the last thing Hermann expects to hear. He startles; he blushes; he stammers; he nearly falls off his chair. Surely he must’ve misheard Newton—or, if he didn’t, surely Newton is teasing him. Newton has never done anything of that sort to Hermann before. Nor has he ever offered. It’s simply not how their relationship works. “I,” he says. “What?”

“Do you want a blowjob?” Newton says. So Hermann didn’t imagine it. “I just thought, since we’re both stuck here and bored as shit, may as well have some fun. People tell me I’m pretty good at it.”

“Good at—what?” Hermann says.

“At sucking dick,” Newton says. “Obviously.”

Hermann wonders what the appropriate response here is. Certainly he would like nothing more than to take Newton up on the offer and forget all his annoyances for a few wonderful minutes, or rather, to take his annoyances out on Newton’s never-ceasing mouth. If Newton’s offer is serious, Hermann is sure such an acceptance would be welcome. If Newton is not serious—if he means it as a joke—it could only lead to humiliation for Hermann. Something for Newton to hold over his head for the rest of the week. Hermann really thought Newton would suck him off? But the temptation of getting Newton’s mouth on him is too much for Hermann to resist, and he really is quite bored: he nods, shyly, and legs his legs part open an inch.

Newton grins.

He tosses his stress toy to his desk and gets down on his knees in front of Hermann with an admirable speed. Not saying a word, he settles his hand on Hermann’s thigh, then creeps his fingers along Hermann’s right inseam. “I bet it’ll make you feel better,” he says. “It’s gonna make me feel better. When’s the last time someone blew you, Hermann?” He fixes his eyes on the vee of Hermann’s parted legs, where the fabric of his trousers is tightening none-too-subtly at the mere notion of what Newton is offering. Hermann makes a weak show of closing them. He swallows a few times.

“I don’t, ah—I don’t remember.” Newton’s wandering fingers stop just before where Hermann wants them most, then skip over to the left side. “A few months. Years. Newton, I must—must ask—why are you…?”

Newton shrugs, and begins rubbing circles across Hermann’s inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking about how to get you to stop being pissed at me all day, and honestly, this seemed like it would work. Pretend it’s an apology or something. Man, Hermann, you’re tense.”

“You have no one to thank for that but yourself,” Hermann says. He shuts his eyes with a groan when Newton squeezes his left thigh like it’s his bloody stress toy. “By Jove, Newton, that feels marvelous.”

“Tense,” Newton says. “I told you. You don’t need a blowjob, dude, you need a goddamn massage.” He braces a hand on each of Hermann’s thighs and begins to work them over—clumsily, since (for all his skills in human biology) Newton is hardly a masseuse, but far better than anything Hermann could do all the same. Hermann sinks lower in his seat and muffles another embarrassing noise behind his hand. “Luckily, though,” Newton says, “I’m gonna give you both, because I’m an awesome lab partner. Let me know if something starts to hurt.”

Newton begins to focus his efforts on Hermann’s left leg, avoiding his knee at first, and then tentatively working his fingers over it as well. Hermann wonders if Newton can feel the scar tissue beneath his fingertips, or if Hermann’s trousers are acting as buffer enough for it. Hermann begins to sag in his chair. He feels positively boneless. He also feels that if Newton does not move those fingers (or, better yet, and as promised, his mouth) to his rapidly-stiffening prick soon, he’ll positively burst. “You enjoying yourself?” Newton says.

“Mm,” Hermann says. “Though, Newton—I don’t mean to be impolite, as I’m awfully grateful for this, but…”

Newton laughs, and with a final parting squeeze to Hermann’s leg, moves those lovely fingers to Hermann’s belt buckle and fly instead. “I got you, man.”

Hermann opens his eyes (not fancying missing this) and watches with bated breath as Newton draws down his trousers to settle comfortably at Hermann’s knees. He nearly blushes at the sight of his white boxer briefs, not just for their plainness, but for how badly they hide how wet his prickhead is already. Newton must feel Hermann’s eyes on him; he shoots Hermann a wink, and, not breaking eye contact, leans forward to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Hermann through his briefs.

Immediately Hermann clamps a hand down over his mouth to keep from shouting. He feels Newton laugh again, a vibration that thrums in the pit of Hermann’s stomach, and he pushes his hips eagerly up towards Newton’s mouth. Newton darts his tongue out this time, dampening the fabric of Hermann’s briefs further. Then he tucks their elastic waistband down below Hermann’s prick. “I didn’t expect it to look like this,” he says, and grazes his thumb idly across the head. He pulls it away sticky, and Hermann whimpers.

He moves his hand from his mouth long enough to say, “Have—have you thought about it often, then?” He means it teasingly—to regain some ground from Newton, some sliver of self-respect—but his voice trembles, and Newton’s grin returns with a certain lasciviousness to it that it’d not held before, and Hermann knows he’s merely given Newton more ammunition. He licks Hermann’s precum off his thumb. Hermann shivers.

“Oh, sure,” Newton says. “I jerk off thinking about your dick all the time.” He flicks his tongue over Hermann and makes a satisfied little noise, his eyelashes fluttering. He leaves another sucking kiss further down Hermann’s prick. Then another back up at the top. His fingers (Hermann notices vaguely, as if through a heavy fog) have begun rubbing soothingly at Hermann’s left hip. Hermann can only take so much: when Newton finally gets his whole mouth on him, two pink lips circling just under his head, Hermann grips blindly at Newton’s hair and comes down Newton’s throat with a muffled grunt. He feels Newton choke, but swallow it all down.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, when he finally finds himself able to speak. “I ought—ought to have warned you.”

But Newton merely wipes his smug little mouth on the cuff of his sleeve and waves Hermann off. “I’m just that awesome, huh?” he says. He gently tucks Hermann back into his briefs, then does up his trousers. “It’s cool. It was pretty hot, actually.” Once he finishes looping Hermann’s belt, he stands and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “Hey, you want some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Hermann says, dizzily.

“Yeah, I was gonna brew a pot,” Newton says. “Get the taste out of my mouth and everything.”

Hermann blinks at him. Newton’s rather thrown him for a loop. Aren’t these sorts of things meant to be reciprocated? Hermann didn’t mean to assume—but he really was looking forward to the chance to, er, give Newton a similar favor. Very much looking forward to it. “That’s it, then?” he says.

“We have six days to go, dude,” Newton says. “No need to rush anything, right? We can work on your,” he smirks, “endurance after lunch.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. He considers it. “Coffee would be nice, then.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #robotsnchicks #Anonymous #not sfw////

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laughing-with-god · 5 years ago

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owo what would taehyung be like, in a hypothetical scenario, if he were a victor in the hunger games ? :0

District Eleven (Agriculture)

District Eleven is the second poorest district, but by far the most oppressed. The Capitol hold over the citizens is way worse than any other district, peacekeepers give out public beatings daily and are known for even shooting children, mentally handicapped citizens and the elderly.

Most people in this district are field workers, not by choice though. Almost everyone in 11 has to work in the orchards and farms, but if they’re caught stealing any of the crops (which is often bc the citizens are always starved) the peacekeepers will whip them in public as punishment.

When Taehyung was five years old his mother was caught stealing some food from the fields, she had no choice because she had a child to feed and was willing to risk the consequences if it meant feeding her son. Sadly, she got caught and was dragged to the town square and beaten.

She was beaten so brutally that she went blind in one eye, crippled her right leg and began suffering seizures since that day. All this made her unfit to ever work again.

So Taehyung’s dad became the sole bread winner of the family. But he couldn’t handle the pressure and double workload so he turned to alcohol to cope. Unfortunately, in a drunken rage he paraded the streets and picked fights with peacekeepers for what they did to his wife. This resulted in him getting a bullet in the head. Taehyung had to witness them mop up the brain matter off the sidewalks the next morning. He was only 8 years old.

Taehyung was reaped when he was 16 years old. Unlike other tributes, Taehyung was used to having to school his expression and show no emotions in fear of getting executed. So he walked up to the stage and showed complete indifference. His district counterpart did the same, if citizens at 11 have anything in common- it’s their quick ability to shut down and shut up.

No one visited Taehyung after his reaping. He was an only child, no friends, his dad was dead and his mother was practically bed-bound. Only during this time did he allow himself to cry, feeling guilty for leaving his mom with no one to take care of her.

His mentors ended up focusing more on his counterpart. She was 18, looked more well-fed and stronger than Taehyung so they placed their hopes onto her.

Taehyung wasn’t really a fan favorite of the Capitol either. Although he was attractive, he was really frail-looking and very emotionless during the chariot ride. Also, sponsors mostly ignore tributes from 11 because their track record in the games is atrocious. So any outside help for Taehyung was immediately ruled out.

Taehyung wanted really badly to give up, but he thought he owed it to his mom to at least try his best to go back home to her.

During training he simply attempted to figure out survival methods for different arenas. He thought it was pointless to try to become a natural born killer in three days. It was also stupid because if he trained with a weapon he would have to go through a whole bloodbath to get his hands on it, so he stuck to survival skills and some hand-to-hand combat.

No one approached him for alliances, it being a well known fact that tributes from 11 were quick to go and even if they did last long, they almost always preferred to work alone.

His interview was pretty forgettable. The interviewer mainly poked fun at him for being skin and bones and even laughed “i would ask what’s your strategy but it looks like a mere gust of wind could take you out!”

When the games finally began, Taehyung found himself underground in some complex cave system (lmao luna reusing arena ideas, so fresh and fun and original-)

When the canon went off he ran away from the bloodbath, knowing some tributes already had him pinned as an easy kill and not wanting to give them a chance to corner him. Later that night he found out that his counterpart had died during the bloodbath, likely from being too ambitious and trying to engage combat with the careers.

he hid during the first few days, but he managed to stumble across a tribute’s little ‘camp’. It looked like the careers had managed to kill someone but left all their supplies behind, finding no need for them since they had a monopoly on the Cornucopia. So Taehyung ransacked the bag and found night vision goggles, a tarp, a handful of crackers, a bottle of water and a sling shot.

Unlike the rest of the tributes, Taehyung was now able to maneuver around the caves rather well because the night vision goggles helped his visibility. This meant he was able to find really good hiding spots that others would pass by without knowing. Life at 11 also prepared him for starvation, meaning he fared better than the others who were getting weaker by the day by malnourishment.

It wasn’t until it came down to five tributes that Taehyung had to start fighting.

Two careers managed to find him, they chased him down a tunnel and cornered him. Little did they know that the Gamemakers prepared mutant blood sucking bats in this particular cave. They swarmed in and attacked all three tributes, but Taehyung was quick to get out his tarp and cocoon his entire body, successfully shielding himself from the bats. The careers weren’t so lucky and died.

3 remained. A girl from 4 and a boy from 9. On the 17th day a canon sounded and during the fallen segment Taehyung was able to conclude that 9 must’ve killed 4.

Taehyung was hoping to outlive 9 simply by hiding but things didn’t pan out that way. On the 20th day 9 had found him, armed with a spear. Taehyung attempted to outrun him and used his slingshot to hit a loose rock from above 9. This rock fell and along with it came down many others, one large enough to pin 9′s lower leg and trapping him.

Taehyung then used his own spear against him, piercing him in the throat.

He became victor, and when he first woke up in the capitol his mentors were by right his side, apologizing for not haven taken him seriously.

The capitol affectionately nicknamed him the ‘underdog’, now finding his borderline mute nature adorable during the victor and mentor interviews.

He now lives in Victor’s row with his mother, very rarely leaving her bedside and spending his days caring over her conditions.

Now whenever someone is killed in 11, their family can expect an anonymous donation from Taehyung the next day. He knows firsthand what that is like and wants to use his money for good. The citizens like him very much because of this although he never really speaks to them.

As a mentor he is really kind to his tributes, although pretty quiet. He devotes an equal amount of time to both of them, being really strict about not playing favorites. He also practically breaks his back every game trying to get sponsors for his tributes.

Whenever the tributes die, he personally sends over a month’s worth of winnings over to the fallen’s family.

the other Victors like him well enough because of his silent but calming persona. Particularly District 6′s Yoongi and District 8′s Hoseok.

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razieltwelve · 4 years ago

Text

My Origin Story

I’m often asked about how I got into self-publishing. It’s something I’ve talked about in previous posts, but I want to talk about it again. It’s been years since I started, and I think time has given me something of a different perspective.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long time. However, I first began to take my writing more seriously in high school. I started posting my writing on the internet under various pseudonyms, and I gradually honed my skills. I won’t say I was good back then, but I steadily became less horrible. It still wasn’t something I showed to people I knew in my everyday life, not even to my family. My writing was, in my opinion, still too rough and raw to present to others, except via the anonymity of the internet.

Fast forward to university. I continued to improve my writing as best I could. In fact, I devoted most of my spare time to writing. It was at this point that I began to write fan fiction. Now, I can already tell what some of you are thinking, but writing fan fiction was honestly the best decision I could have made at the time. Fan communities are wonderful things. You don’t have to be the best writer to be welcomed, and you can get access to a far larger amount of critique and advice than you would get as some random lone writer on the internet.

My writing improved markedly during this time since I was now getting regular feedback. Now, obviously, it’s true that most fan fiction readers aren’t professional writers or critics. Sometimes, all you get is “I like the bit where people got stabbed”. Yet amongst all of the one word reviews, random hate messages, and simple but welcome words of encouragement, you do meet people who are genuinely interested in helping you improve. I’m talking about detailed reviews that can be pages long, covering everything from sentence construction to overarching plot critiques.

In my Honours year, I finished my first novel. Before you ask, it’s not something that I’ve published although I do intend to go back and fix it up one day. What mattered wasn’t how good it was. No. What mattered was that I actually finished a novel-length story. It was a bit of mess at times, but it was 100,000 words of original fiction. Sure, it wasn’t great, but it was mine. I actually printed it out and had it bound in a manner similar to my Honours thesis.

During my PhD years, I continued to write, and I began to submit my short stories to fiction magazines while sending out inquiry letters to agents and publishers about my longer stories. Over the four years of my PhD I wrote three novels and many short stories.

And this is where my origin story takes a bit of a dark turn.

Do you want to know how many short stories I got published?

Zero.

Do you want to know how much interest I got from publishers and agents about my longer stories?

Zero.

That’s right. I got absolutely zero interest from anyone about my original fiction.

That’s not a good feeling, let me tell you. It can be very disheartening. I might have thrown myself into fan fiction with a bit more enthusiasm then because at least there, in those communities, people liked what I wrote. Despite all the rejections from publishers and agents, I could at least say that in certain communities, my writing was well-loved and respected.

After bashing my head into the proverbial wall for a couple of years, I began to look into self-publishing. If my writing was genuinely good, then surely I’d be able to sell at least a few copies if I self-published. I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself and predict best-seller status or anything, but I had to be able to sell something, right?

I spent the next few months studying the market and learning how to make eBooks and design covers. Finally, I was ready. The very first book I self-published was The Last Huntress. That book was a labour of love. I pored over every sentence. I obsessed about the characters and the setting. I promoted it as best I could via the communities I was a part of, and then I sat back and waited for the magic to happen.

That last part, the bit about the magic? That was sarcasm.

There was no magic.

In that first month, I sold something like 17 copies.

All told, that translated to around $6.50 for me.

Staring at that result was not the happiest moment of my life. I did the mental arithmetic. Even if I increased my sales a hundred fold, it still wouldn’t be enough for me to make a living via writing. Heck, I could increase my sales three hundred fold and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Luckily, my years of unrelenting failure had somewhat numbed me to this latest failure. I decided to try again. The sequel and some other stories actually managed to do a little better, but that was hardly saying anything. It’s kind of like how if your leg has been cut off, you probably won’t feel the pain of a broken finger all that much.

After a full year of massive failure, my knee decided to explode because of course it did.

Cue surgery.

Cue misery.

Cue six weeks with my leg locked straight in a brace.

Sitting on my couch with my leg propped up beside me, I decided that I wanted to write something different. No more serious fantasy. No more high fantasy. My humorous fan fiction was what had first endeared me to readers, so maybe it was time to write something funny. Besides, it might take my mind off the fact that I had weeks of my leg in a brace to look forward to along with months of physiotherapy.

And don’t even me started on how awkward it was to have a bath or use the toilet.

I was throwing around ideas for what kind of story I could write when a scene came to mind: a necromancer being forced to beat his own wayward creation to death. All I really had was that one scene. It sounded pretty funny to me, so I started writing just to see where it would go.

Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Elf is what that idea became.

That book sold more copies in a month than all of my previous books combined had managed in a year. In fact, it managed to outdo all of my previous books combined several times over.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see those numbers rolling in. It wasn’t a bestseller by any means, but it was the first time that I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t wasting my time, that maybe I could actually do this.

Things have changed a lot since then.

I’ve written more books, and although they’ve had varying degrees of success, they’ve all done so much better than I could ever have imagined during the doldrums of that first year. Humour, it seems, is what I’m best suited to, along with slice of life, and I’m more than happy to embrace that. I’ve even been lucky enough to have some of my books turned into audiobooks.

So there’s my origin story.

It’s easy, I think, to only remember the things that worked, but it’s important to remember the failures too. Writing isn’t an easy thing to do, especially if you’re aiming to make a living out of it. People can be cruel. You’re going to get reviews from people saying that you’re awful, that your story sucks, and that you should quit writing. But you’re also going to get reviews telling you that your story made someone’s day, that you made someone smile, that they can’t wait for the next book.

I wouldn’t be the writer I am today without those years of failure and disappointment. One of the most important qualities to have if you’re going to write humour is the ability to laugh at yourself and to make light of both the very strange and the very mundane. Moreover, a writer should be honest with themselves if they want to improve.

You can argue with reviewers. You can argue with critics. But you can’t argue with $6.50 worth of sales in a month.

I suppose that’s why I tend to be quite sympathetic to the underdog in my writing. I am one. I know what it’s like to put your heart into something and come up empty handed. I had that happen to me for years. I also know how important it is to celebrate the little wins and the small triumphs. Sometimes, they lead to bigger things, and sometimes, they’re all you have.

Well, that’s it. That’s my origin story.

It’s not exactly glorious. It’s filled with more than its fair share of failures. But it is my story. Mine. And that matters. Anyone who tells you that there isn’t some luck involved in the writing business is crazy. Luck is definitely a thing. But just being lucky isn’t enough. It takes years of hard work to become good enough to make the most of that luck, and it takes a certain level of idiocy/stubbornness to keep going despite everyone slamming doors in your face.

It’s a good thing, then, that I’m a lucky, stubborn idiot.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here. Also, just in case you missed it… The Sheep Dragon is out on Audible now! Get it here. It’s 26 and a half hours of fun, humour, and adventure!

#personal #musings #writing

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spnfanficpond · 4 years ago

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Pond Diving - Supernatural-Jackles

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Jen

Age: 24

Location: Ontario, Canada

URL: @supernatural-jackles

Why did you choose your URL: I wanted a Supernatural theme for my blog when I started watching it and Jensen Ackles just happens to be my favourite on there so it became that.

What inspired you to become a writer: I’ve always enjoyed stories. I’ve loved the aspect of taking your mind to a whole other world and living in it. As I grew up and continued reading, my love for stories became stronger and stronger. I fell in love with characters and places. I wanted to always have a way to go back to those places and take other people to those places. I wanted to create stories for others to fall in love with the way I fell in love with them.

How long have you been writing: I have been writing since I was 8 or 9.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? Right now, my Nintendo switch is a good friend of mine. Due to the virus, I spend a lot of my time inside when I’m not at work. I’m either writing, working, sleeping or playing switch.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? Since 2012

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? I am in the Harry Potter fandom, and Marvel. I don’t write for them though. I don’t feel the same way about the characters as I do with the SPN Fandom.

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? I have been working on my novel for the last two years on and off. I just find a lot more joy in writing Supernatural fanfiction at the moment, so my soul focus has stayed on that.

Favorite published author: Margaret Atwood or John Green

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: There was this one book I read. I was about 18 at the time I believe. All The Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. A very triggering book, just so you know. I remember sitting there reading it and wondering why I’m putting myself through something so draining and daunting. The book was very upsetting and I found it didn’t tackle the issues at hand in a very tasteful and realistic way. As someone who writes fanfiction about mental health, it influenced me to be open and honest about the way reality is, but in a way that would shine more positively towards mental health struggles. I never wanted to be that person who ruined every mental health book for someone else like that author did for me. It was a negative impact, but I think it had some positive results.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): I enjoy all genres to be honest. It really all depends on the mood I’m in that day. It’s fun to switch it up every once in a while and enjoy the mixed emotions you get when you read or write said genre.

Favorite piece of your own writing: One and One Make Three or Just Want to Be Loved.

Most underrated fic you have written: I might have to say More Than a Fling. It was the sequel to Summer Fling and everyone was interested in a second series. It soon went on permanent hiatus due to lack of interest.

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Owe You One

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @luci-in-trenchcoats, @kaz-2y5imagines, @jawritter @mariekoukie6661, @torn-and-frayed

Favorite fic from another writer: Breathe by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Favorite character to write: Dean/Jensen

Favorite Pairing to write: Undecided. I love reader inserts and I haven’t done many pairings other than that. I have toyed with Jensen/Reader/Danneel before and I enjoy writing them.

Least favorite character to write (and why): Castiel. We only see so much of Cas and there aren’t as many complex layers of him so he’s harder for me to explore.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? @luci-in-trenchcoats

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? Finish everything I start, and be proud of every piece I create.

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: Ummm probably upwards to the mid 60’s I want to say.

What are you currently working on? I am in the very early stages of writing a Jensen x Reader Bodyguard AU series. Twisty and turny and very different from what I usually write, but still very me.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? I have the biggest influence on my writing for the most part. I always stick with what I want to write and what I’d love to read. That’s what gets me started on most pieces. My dear best friend who shall remain anonymous, has an influence on me as well. She mostly inspires me to write what I want to write and reminds me on a constant basis that I am doing good and to keep going with my ideas.

Best writing advice you've been given: Don’t be afraid to get a little out of your comfort zone.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Time management mostly. Deadlines are not my best friend, that’s for sure. I am often filled with a lot of self-doubt when it comes to getting things done on time. Then I wonder if it’s good enough for publishing or if I should wait.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? The research process for certain fics can be daunting. Especially if you don’t know where you need to start looking. Then fact checking, and making sure it works in the story. I have to remind myself that it will be worth it in the end.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I am pretty open with writing most of the things I want to. Getting out of my comfort zone is something I regularly do. It’s always fun to challenge yourself into writing something you’d never think of doing. I certainly have enjoyed the things I was scared to try and it was worth it in the end.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Any selfie/picture posted by Jensen. My best friend and the lovely people around me. @luci-in-trenchcoats is a big influence on me and she always keeps me going!

How do you deal with self doubt: I constantly have to remind myself to get out of that headspace unless I am writing about being in that headspace. It’s a hard cycle to break. Reminding myself that what I am doing is making me happy. I’m making the rules. I’m writing this for me. I have to please myself first and that’s what matters the most. I know myself and the way I write, and that is enough. That’s what I keep on repeat in my head.

How do you deal with writer's block: Cry profusely? I’m kidding. Writer’s block for me, usually comes from something I don’t like that I have written. If it’s minor, I go back to the point where I was happy with where the story was going and delete everything after that. Give it a fresh new start and prospective. If the block is more severe, I take a break. Watch a movie and don’t stress myself about it. I get ideas anywhere, and it will come back eventually. Sometimes it’s just your brain's way of saying “hey, you need to take a break. Do that.”

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: Generally yes. I like to know where my story is going. Most of the time my outlines are more extensive rough drafts. It’s a way of processing my thoughts and writing them down so I don’t forget later. It’s a lot more fun for me to build on stories.

Do you have any weird writing habits: I either have to sit in a silent room, or I have to listen to music. Lately it’s been more silent. It depends on the subject.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? I’ve received my share of hateful comments. Each one sucks, I’m not going to lie. Knowing that there is someone out there that hates the way you wrote something so much that they had to tell you isn’t nice. It kind of comes back to the self doubt thing. You have to remind yourself that this is one person’s not so kind opinion. You are the writer, you are in control of this story. This is you and you’re proud of this.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? Any feedback is my favourite feedback. Every heart, every “I love this”. Every “You’re my favourite.” I can’t pick a favourite. If someone can take the time out to say they’ve loved something I have written and that it meant a lot to them, then that's the best reward I can get.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Keep writing everyday! You don’t see it now but the more you write, the better you get.

#pond diving #pond diving: supernatural-jackles #spnfanficpond

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olivarryprompts · 4 years ago

Text

Fanfic Friday #9

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33120742

{Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries (yes, again)}

Ships: Peter & Tony, Bucktony, Peppernat

Warnings: nothing just fluff :)

Wc: 2,920

Finally the annual school field trip had come around. Each year, each grade level went on a trip to a cool company, place, or experience. They, Peter had found, tended to be quite fun. The previous year they’d gone to a cool place where they learned parkqure. Peter, imaginablelly, was very good. He and Ned were so looking forward to this one. “Hello 10th grade, as you know, we are announcing the annual field trip dates. This year, we’ve decided to keep the destination anonymous. We are going this Friday, and it is one of the best ones we have had in years. Please take an NDA form and consent form home for you and at least one guardian to sign. You may go now.” Ned and Peter headed towards the door with giddy smiles. “Mr. Parker, a word?” Ms. Giles, the teacher who’d announced the trip, said. “Hi Ms. Giles, what’s up?” “Hello Peter. I’m just going to have to break this to you. Unfortunately, due to the lies you have been spreading about having an internship at Stark Industries we cannot allow you on this trip. This is a lesson on why not to lie. It is unfortunate you cannot join us on the trip, but the punishment we’ve decided seems fair. You’ve been tinting Midtown’s name.” “But the internship is real! I filed all the paperwork and everything. Mr. Stark signed them!” “Sorry Peter, this lying must stop. You should come in on Friday and take your other classes.” “But-” “Enough Peter.” He left, sprinting out of the class and then the school. He really did not want to talk to anyone. He quickly made his way to the black SUV waiting for him. Happy greeted him with a hello, and Peter responded with a nod. Happy sensed the kid didn’t want to talk so he left him be. By the time they arrived at the tower, Peter’s lack of rest had gotten to him. He intended to go upstairs and take a nap, but, of course, he got roped into everything other than that.Happy, of course, dropped him at the back near the private entrance. He rode the elevator to the 90th floor. Sam and Clint were playing Mario Kart on their world wii. Tony was sitting there, working on some suit designs with Bucky cuddled into his side. Pepper was at the kitchen table working on CEO things. He was surprised she wasn’t in her office. He tried to slip through the room and into his own room, but he was, obviously, stopped. “Where are you going kid?” Tony asked. “My room, I need a nap.” “What happened kid?” Bucky asked. Bucky and Tony had basically become his fill in dads, them being together and all. “Nothin just, I'm not allowed on my school’s trip this year.” “Why?” Tony said, suddenly perked up. “Just don’t believe me about the ‘Stark Internship,’” He mumbled under his breath. “They-What?” Bucky said, concerned for Peter’s well being. “They don’t believe that I do work here I guess?” “The teachers?” Tony asked. “Yeah.” “But you filed all the things.” “Yeah, I know. I don’t really care that much, so-” “No way!” Tony said, pulling out his phone. “Tones, relax,” Bucky said, stroking the other man’s arm, “If you're okay with it, we’ll leave it.” “We will not!” “Tony! We will leave it. Just, at least, take the day off on Fri, kiddo.” “Yeah,” Peter said, thinking that was fair, “Thanks.” “Wanna play kid?” Clint said, throwing him a wii remote. “Play? I’m going to crush you guys,” Peter smirked. All three were very competitive and Mario Kart games were the height of that. Bucky ended up cuddling into Tony’s side which, though they all made fun of the couple, was very cute. Clint yelled something about Peter having Spidey sense so it was unfair. Sam just called him a sore loser. Pepper yelled at them to keep it down. “Hey boys,” Nat said, entering, “Oh Mario Kart. Pass me a remote.” They had just finished the mushroom prix, so she easily joined their game and the chaos continued. “Where did you just come from?” Peter asked. “Top secret mission with Cap.” “Oh spill the tea,” Peter said. “No one will be spilling anything on these custom, expensive sofas!” “Relax Stark, it’s a phrase used by the youth these days,” Sam filled in, laughing at the older man. “Go on then, Nat,” Peter

urged her on. “It’s just some stolen bombs, and some parts could be used to possibly make nuclear weaponry. We’re heading to Greece tomorrow.” “Need back up?” Tony offered. “Maybe if you started working with Shield, you’d be able to come,” Nat rolled his eyes. “Never,” Tony huffered. “Sounds more fun than school,” Peter remarked. “That should not be this kid’s definition of fun,” Bucky said with a laugh. “Agreed,” Clint said. “All this bullying I endure,” Peter joked. “Ha get red shelled mother fucker!” Sam yelled. “I hate you,” Nat said, calmly losing her first place. “One your left,” I said, passing Sam. “Shut up little kid, get your own line.” “I own you oldies.” “Oh and what about the blue shell coming up?” Clint laughed. Peter slowed down, and allowed Sam to overtake him. “Ha take that kid! Fir-” Sam got blue shelled. “Oh you little shit.” Peter slipped back into first where he finished the race. “You're too good at this game, паук, “ Nat said, excusing herself with a smile. A few races later Peter said, “I’m going to go do some shit in the lab.” “See ya kid,” Bucky said, “he’s turning into you.” Bucky said the last bit to Tony, but super-hearing ya know. “Hey! What’s so bad about that.” “Everything,” Clint deadpanned.Peter wanted to work on a new web fluid, one that would conduct electricity. It’d be useful for fixing wiring, shocking, ect. He’d come up with a formula, ironically, in biology. All his classes were far too easy for him, despite them being the highest honor classes the school offers. Tony is considering sending him to MIT next year rather than waiting out his high school years, not that he shared his thoughts with Peter.Peter was so caught up in his work he didn’t hear Tony come in. “So focused, huh?” Peter jumped. “Hey,” he smiled. “Don’t you have spider sense of something?” “Leave me alone,” he fake pouted. “What are you working on?” “Electro conducting web fluid. Unfortunately the new version seems to lower the strength, though.” He said, showing the results of the test he’d just finished conducting. “Impressive, you could introduce an iodiant element to introduce strength without interfering with the conductivity?” Tony suggested, looking over the data. “Oh good idea,” Peter said, pulling up the element to introduce into his formula on the virtual creation. “You know why I really came down here?” “To annoy me,” I said, smiling. “The field trip.” “I swear, I don’t care. It’s going to be lame anyways.” “You were talking about how excited you were for this trip last week,” Tony said bluntly. “Please leave it. Just, I-i’ll be fine.” “Come on, you're asking me, Tony Stark, to leave it?” “Yes. For me,” Peter batted his eyelids. “Fine,” Tony gave in, “You swear you're okay?” “Swear.” “He’s really got you wrapped around his pinky finger,” Harley Keener, resident prankster, genius, and boyfriend of Peter, said. “Oh don’t pretend he hasn’t got you too,” Tony said, getting ready to leave, “Your classes finish early Potato Gun?” “Yeah. Figure I’d come and see the one and only,” he said, gesturing at Peter. “I’ll leave you two to it,” tony said, leaving, “Don’t fuck in the lab again!” Peter blushed and Harley laughed. “Again?” Peter mumbled, “How did he know?” “Friday gave us up for sure,” Harley smiled, kissing his boyfriend. “How are ya darlin’? Nat told me about the trip.” “Yeah, it’s alright. At least I get the day off.” “I suppose. You gunna keep workin on those?” “Yeah, Mr. Stark just gave me a good idea.” “Hmn, yeah, I wanna finish up Clint’s new arrows before he murders me.” Peter laughed, “Yeah you should do.”Friday Peter got a nice sleep in. He woke around ten, but, too comfortable in his boyfriend’s arms, he didn’t move until half past 10. He slipped out of his room, allowing Harls to sleep in more. His boyfriend was sleep deprived far too often. He quickly got ready for the day, wanting to look and smell alright. He headed straight for the kitchen after, needing some coffee and breakfast before getting any real work done. In the Avenger household, between Harley, Peter, Mr. Stark, Banner, and

Pepper, the coffee pot was always full. Peter kinda fancied some of the pastries from the coffee shop in the lobby, so, after chugging his cup of coffee, he headed downstairs.He was met with a not so nice surprise upon walking into the lobby. There was his class. How could he be so stupid. Of course the field trip was here, that’s why they didn’t want me on it. He should have just asked one of the many Avengers in the tower to grab it for him. Bucky would’ve. “Peter! Peter Parker!” yelled his teacher yelled. Shit. Peter tried to ignore him, heading straight for the coffee shop. Surely the teacher would think he made a mistake. “Hey Ellise! Didn’t know you were working today?” “Extra shift,” she smiled, “How’s everything going?” “Pretty badly, could I get an express on my normal?” “Anything for my loyal customer,” she joked. “Thanks,” he said, moving over to wait for his drink and food. To his dismay, Ms. Giles came up right behind him as he waited for his order. “Peter Parker, you were not allowed on this field trip! You were banned. It is totally inappropriate for you to show up here!” “I-i.” he had nothing. “Go home. You're guardians and the principal will be hearing about this.” “Uhmn-” he honestly didn't know what to say, “Right yeah, I’ll go home.” “Parker, your coffee’s up with your pastry!” El yelled. “Uh thanks,” he said, grabbing it and heading for the lift. “SECURITY! This student is trying to enter the building!” for fucks sake Ms. Giles. Peter was so so done. One of the guards came over, “hello, what seems to be happening here?” “One of my students, who was banned from the field trip, decided to come here as a joke or something, and he is now trying to go upstairs? He also got himself a coffee without paying,” she explained calmly. “Kid, this is a very serio-” “I work here,” Peter said in a low voice, “that’s why I’m here. Just needed a coffee before I started working.” “How old are you?” “Sixteen.” “We do not hire people under 18, I need the truth. This is a truly punishable offence.” “Let me show you my badge!” he said, fishing it out from his pocket. “Oh god, I am so sorry Mr. Parker. I hadn’t realized. Please continue on.” “No need to apologize, you were just doing your job. Thanks, I’ll be off then,” Peter said with a smile. “Peter Parker I don’t kno-” “Please return to your tour. It should be starting soon. Mr. Parker is free to do as he pleases in this building,” the security guard assured. Peter shot him a smile before getting in the lift.“Hey babe,” Peter said, spotting his boyfriend in the kitchen, “Guess where the field trip is to?” “No!” Keener yelled, laughing, “It’s here!” “Yep, and they all saw me in the lobby-” he launched into a detailed recount of the events that just occurred in the lobby. “God your life, darlin’” “I know, I bet Mr. Stark knew all along.” “Ha! That'd be just like him, getting back at you for some of those pranks.” “Innit.” “You still heading down to the inter labs? I know people down there need your help.” “I think I’m going to avoid it. I want to keep working on the sizing down of the arc reactor for my department’s new project.” Peter currently ran one of the three R&D labs. They were currently doing work on the arc reactor. Sometimes, Peter worked among them, giving advice and handing out assignments, but most times he stuck to doing the work in his own lab. He was technically their boss, and he and his team got the work in on time, so it didn’t bother Stark. “Stark gives you too much work. It’s so dumb you have your own department.” “Jealous baby?” “Fuck no, we all know I’m CEO next,” Harley smirked. “Yes, yes you are.” Harley was much more business than he was. Peter was so much better at the R&D. He’d end up being some big important role in the company - likely second in charge, but he’d always be running the research in some capacity. “Well that’s unless Bucky and Stark finally decided to have a little tot,” Peter joked. “I’ll still be top. They love me most,” Harley said, fake flipping his hair. “What’s this about us having a kid and loving Harls most?” Tony

said, “Well, I was simply explaining that you love me most and that's why I’m CEO next.” “Hell no, Pep made that strange decision.” “Well, I said yours and Bucky’s kid was getting it all.” “Hell no! Our kids are staying away from all this shit,” Bucky smiled. “Our kids?” “Yeah,” Buck said, like it was the most obvious thing ever. “God I love you,” Tony said. “Ewwwww,” Both the boys squealed. “Shut up,” Tony threw at them, “Don’t you have a department to run and classes to attend?” “No classes till 3,” Harley explained. “Yes, just don’t want my class to see me down there.” “Your class?” Bucky questioned. “Yeah, it turns out this year's field trip was to my house,” Peter joked. “Don’t let them stop you from doing your work,” Stark said, seriously, “It’s a big tower, it’s very unlikely they’ll be anywhere near your lab. Plus, I need your third term report on Project ZX89.” “Yeah. The team and I are almost done with it. I’ll pull an all nighter and have it to you by Friday.” “Okay so-” Stark began. “No you will not, Peter,” Bucky stepped on, “If you can’t handle the department and a normal sleeping schedule, we need to talk about it.” “Buck, it’s one night. Plus, we’re so near to finishing with the models. Fourth terms will be literally production,” Peter explained. “I give up. He’s yours,” Bucky exclaimed. “Relax, it’s one night as the kid said. By the way, Friday at the latest.” “Yep. It’ll be with you.” “Keener, Pep told me she wants you by her today as you have no class. Friday sent her your schedule.” “Bu-” “Go Mr. Future CEO.” “Fine, see ya. Bye Darling,” Harley said, placing a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “I’ll come with. I do have to get that work done.” “Okay,” Harley replied, interlocking their hands. “Bye,” they both called. The two overachieving kids fit perfectly into each other’s lives.“Wish me luck,” Peter said, stepping into his department. “Good luck. Hope your class comes in here and sees you bein an epic boss.” “I hate you.” The lift closed, and he went straight to his computer to start reading over the current progress. He began to compile the work that Stark wanted. He sent off a couple emails asking for data and previous models. This report, in truth, was going to take him at least 12 hours to make. He also needed to do some physical work on the prototype with some of the scientists working under him. After sending requests for all the info he’d need for the report, he went into the lab, greeting his team. He fit right in as they continued to make the final adjustments on the mini-arc reactor. Two hours later, they were done with the third quarter work. They agreed to celebrate this weekend with some drinks in the lab.Peter luck showed up, and his class arrived in his department. Peter ran and checked his schedule, there was nothing about talking to a class about his research as he’d done before. “Peter, Pepper would like to inform you that there was a mistake in your calendar. You will be talking to a tour in five about your research. She apologies for any inconvenience.” “Hi fri, tell her it's fine. I got this.” “Yes baby boss.” He promptly met the class in one of the two conference rooms on that floor. It was almost entirely a lab. “Hello class, I am the head of this department, so I shall be telling you about it,” Peter said. “Funny joke Peter, please stop distributing this tour,” Ms. Giles said. “I’m going to ignore that comment. So, I am aware you’ve all been given a brief tour of the level, but I am here to answer any questions you may have.” The class was silent and confused. “Anything at all? Ok, I guess I’ll just tell you more about the work I do with my team…” he blabbered on about the work, what it was like working here, the best and worst parts, ect.The tour was ready to leave, and Peter was glad. He had work to do.To say Monday was an interesting day would be an understatement.

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33120742

#peter parker field trip #irondad #tony stark #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #harley keener #irondad and spiderson #ironfam #avengers fanfic #basically peter being unofficially adopted by the avengers lol

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daringyounggrayson · 5 years ago

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one step at a time

anonymous said: Here’s a prompt for you: “I could really use a cuddle” for Dick with either Bruce or Damian?

thanks for the prompt! this accidently turned into a short fic, whoops. I also included my headcanon that Dick’s early exposure to fear toxin caused some long-term health problems. all you really need to know, though, is that Dick experiences fear toxin symptoms on and off even without exposure, the antidote doesn’t work very well for him, the exposure damaged his lungs which can make it hard to breathe during an attack, and he uses an inhaler that has a variation of the antidote in it which helps to relieve his symptoms. Enjoy!

He’d seen him again. Bruce, last night. Of course, not really him. Because Bruce isn’t here so it couldn’t have even been him, but also not him, because his memory of Bruce had been warped by fear toxin. And now that the night was over, he was left to sift through the memories. They meant nothing, sure, but the thing about people is that they find meaning in anything, including nothing. Dick does it well, too; probably the only time he can call himself a spectacular person.

“Alfred?” Dick calls, voice scratchy. He must’ve been screaming, probably scared the crap out of Damian, even if the kid would never admit it. Which only makes Dick feel worse.

With no response, Dick sits up and carefully takes the IV out of his arm. He looks up to see if it was just fluids, or if the antidote kept wearing off and he’d needed to be on a drip. Both, it turns out. Fun.

“Master Dick, my apologies, I was with Master Damian,” Alfred says, hurrying over to Dick before he can get out of bed. He’s pushing Dick back, gathering supplies to set up what looks like a blood draw.

“Damian okay?” Dick asks.

“He’s well, albeit a little shaken.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“We’ll have none of that.” Alfred pulls Dick’s arm out and wraps a band around it, then he’s swabbing the crook of his arm with an alcohol swab and jabbing a needle into it. He takes the band off and lets the blood flow into the vial. “How are you feeling?”

Dick shrugs. “You know.” He’s been exposed to fear toxin so many times, and the early times, they hadn’t even had an effective treatment for it. Now, it seems the antidote doesn’t work on him as well as it does on the others, even Bruce. And an exposure always makes him feel sick the next day—chest tight, headache, kind of nauseous. Not to mention feeling jumpy and on edge. Alfred already knows all of this, though; voicing it would be redundant.

Read the rest on AO3 or below the cut!

“Perhaps you should rest a while longer,” Alfred suggests. “At least until your blood has been properly examined.”

“Sure,” Dick says, because really, he’s not feeling great. “But I want to check on Damian first.”

“Very well,” Alfred says, using his voice that says he doesn’t think it’s “very well” at all, actually. But he knows when not to push.

Dick makes his way upstairs, shaking ever so lightly from fatigue and residual fear. He hopes this doesn’t last long, but he knows it must’ve been a pretty bad hit. Maybe multiple hits. He’s surprised Damian wasn’t taken down too—or maybe he had been, but his immune system doesn’t have the same response as Dick’s, so he recovered quickly like everyone else seems to. He hopes it stays that way, and if Babs, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Steph are any indication, Damian should be fine.

Dick eventually reaches Damian’s door, and he raps it with his knuckles. He waits, and a moment later, Damian opens the door. He looks up at Dick, and something like relief flashes across his face before it’s replaced with a scowl. “Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to check in after last night. You holding up okay?”

“I don’t need your concern, Grayson,” Damian tells him. “Perhaps if you had taken more precautions last night, you would not be in your current state and Scarecrow would have been apprehended more efficiently.”

So not well, was the answer to his question. “Right then. Alfred checked you out and everything?”

“I was able to supply my own antidote in the field, and Pennyworth examined some follow-up blood work to ensure it had worked properly. Which it had. Due to my quick response, I never experienced its effects,” Damian says proudly. It’s kind of amazing; even with quick response, Dick can never avoid the effects of fear toxin completely. “I was also able to get you back to the car before you could make a fool of yourself in front of Commissioner Gordon.”

Dick closes his eyes for a moment, holding his tongue. “Thanks, Damian. I’m sorry you had to see me like that, but you did a good job last night. I’m proud of you.”

He can hear Bruce’s voice whispering in his ear again. He wants to groan; he hopes this is just a mild leftover effect and not a sign that he needs more antidote. The fear toxin is way worse, obviously, but being on a drip isn’t fun, and it comes with its own side-effects. His chest is feeling tight, though; maybe he should find one of his inhalers.

“Grayson?” Damian is asking, something fearful in his voice.

“Hmm?” Dick opens his eyes and realizes he’s slumped on the ground, hands pressed to his chest. “Oh.”

“I should get Pennyworth,” Damian decides, looking like he’s ready to run.

Dick shakes his head. “It will pass, just need a minute. ‘Sides, Alfred’s probably already on his way.”

“Is the toxin still in your system?” Damian asks instead, and Dick shakes his head, even though he doesn’t really know that for sure. “Pennyworth was telling me of your chronic health issues that have resulted from over-exposure at a young age. Is that . . ?” Why he feels like he’s been run over?

“Probably,” Dick answers, closing his eyes again. He wonders how much Alfred has told him. He should know, for safety reasons, but. It would be nice to have some control over this situation. “Can you get my inhaler for me?” Dick could get it, but Damian sounds so helpless right now—giving him something to do will be good for him. “It’s on my nightstand.”

“Very well, if that will help.”

Damian is fast, and he’s quiet while Dick takes the inhaler. He doesn’t know if he’s done this in front of Damian before; he’s needed to, but he’s always excused himself. Dick takes the puff and holds his breath; a few minutes later, his chest feels less tight and the whispers have settled.

“Thanks.”

“Master Dick?” Alfred calls, heading up the hallway toward him. “Are you quite alright?”

“He had an attack,” Damian says, tattles.

“It wasn’t an attack,” Dick says, because it wasn’t. Not really. “Just rough from last night. Did you check the bloodwork?”

“It looks clear. So as long as your symptoms remain mild, I do not feel the need to give you another dose,” Alfred tells him, and Dick relaxes. “Bed rest, however, continues to be recommended.”

This is something Alfred will push for, and Dick doesn’t want to be pushed, so he holds his hand out and lets Alfred help him up.

“Very good, sir,” Alfred praises him. “Master Damian, if you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Alfred helps Dick get into bed, gets him settled, and hands him a pill. Then he disappears into the bathroom, returning with a cup of water.

“What’s this?” Dick asks, swallowing it with the proffered water before he gets an answer.

“Only some Tylenol,” he assures. “For the headache and chest pain.”

“Thanks,” Dick says, easing himself into the pillows. “Was it … it was bad last night?”

“You were having difficulty breathing when Master Damian brought you in,” Alfred tells him. “You required a breathing treatment followed by oxygen for a while, although neither were very effective until the antidote began to work. Master Damian seemed unsettled, so I thought it would be best for the two of us to have a conversation about your specific reactions to fear toxin.”

“How much did you tell him?” Dick asks, eyes closed and breathing already slowing.

“I didn’t go into too much detail, but I explained the cause”—over-exposure to and lack of treatment for fear toxin mixed with a developing brain and pair of lungs—“and how your symptoms come and go. He was confused as you had been exposed before and hadn’t reacted so severely, so we discussed how this can be unpredictable and is often influenced by other factors. Including variation in dosages and time before treatment.”

Nothing new to Dick, but for a ten-year-old who had no warning, it could be a lot. Even if that ten-year-old was Damian.

“Hmm,” Dick chooses as a response. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Alfred tells him, resting a hand on top of his head. “Sleep well, and do call if you need me.”

And Dick sleeps.

oOo

The nightmares come and go. It’s not the toxin, but his brain is always like this after an exposure—even if it hasn’t been this bad in a while. Years, even.

Dick finds himself in a confusing cycle of waking and falling asleep, unsure of where he is and what’s real. He remembers Alfred, finding him in the hall and herding him back to bed, pressing an inhaler into his palm. Had he been sleepwalking? Had Alfred checked him for a fever? He felt cold, maybe they were chills. Maybe he was actually sick.

The next lucid moment, he found himself feeling the urge to run away. From what, he couldn’t remember, but the nightmare had been clear once. He was at least certain that the only place he wanted to run to was Bruce, but he wasn’t here, and the dream told him he was also part of the monster. But that couldn’t be right, because Bruce could never be a monster. He fought monsters, and he won.

“Grayson?” Damian is shaking him awake. It had been a dream, then. But. He was in the hallway? Had he run away? “Grayson, it was just a dream, you’re alright.”

Bruce had said those words to him. Not exactly, but close. And Dick had said them to Damian—it hadn’t been fear toxin that had caused that first nightmare, it had been after Bruce, and after Tim left.

“I’m, I’m,” Dick mumbles, unable to control his tongue.

“You’re outside father’s room,” Damian tells him calmly. He sounds like he’s following a script; Alfred had probably told him how to handle Dick like this. “You are having a flare-up. Do you require your inhaler?”

“I’m fine,” Dick says. And he thinks it’s true. “You can, I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Nonsense. It is Robin’s job to look out for Batman, isn’t it?” Damian asks, and Dick nods. “Then as Robin, leaving you now would be a dishonorable act.”

Dick hums, unable to argue and unsure how or even if he should. It’s hard to think like this; he doesn’t feel like himself.

“Do you require assistance to get back to bed?” Damian asks.

Dick stands, and Damian slides his arm around Dick’s waist. Dick knows he could manage on his own, but he’s dizzy. It’s nice not to have to stumble and fall all the way back to his room.

Damian only lets go of him when Dick’s sitting back in bed. He hesitates, watching Dick cautiously. Dick is feeling tired again, too tired to figure out what Damian needs. Maybe a dismissal? Could be, but Dick should probably thank him instead. This is a big step for Damian, trying to take care of Dick, showing that he cares about Dick. He remembers the first time he was sick since Damian came to live with him, and he had been quite the opposite of kind and understanding back then.

“You’re shaking,” Damian says. “Is that? Or perhaps you are not in the proper state to discuss this.” More script, Dick guesses.

“It’s okay,” Dick assures him; he’s happy to answer the question, happier that Damian feels comfortable asking. “But yeah. I think it’s just the adrenaline.”

“I see.”

A long pause, and Dick can feel himself swaying where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He wishes Damian would spit it out, or leave if he wasn’t going to. Dick really needs to lie down.

“I am aware that you are very … tactile, and I have read that pressure can help ease anxiety,” Damian starts cautiously. “Do you think that would help you?”

For a moment, Dick forgets how terrible he feels and he can’t help but grin up at Damian. “Are you asking me if I want to cuddle?”

Damian scowls at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do not be childish, Grayson. I am merely suggesting what the experts have found to be effective, especially for people such as yourself. I would rather let you recover in your own time, but Batman and Robin are needed, and—“

“Damian,” Dick cuts him off. “I could really use a cuddle. Or whatever you want to call it.”

Damian scoffs at him, but then he wraps his arms around Dick. Dick hugs him back, squeezing him tightly. It does help Dick feel better, and he hopes Damian is sharing some of this relief. After all, they’ve both had a rough night.

#dick grayson #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #nightwing #robin #batman #batfamily #toxin damage #elizabeth writes #alright now i'm going to bed ✌️

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years ago

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Study Buddies ~ H.D.

A/n: Yall really be liking Hamish huh? Lol we stan tbh.

Request: “Hi could I request a hamish duke x male reader where the reader is like the super studious person like always preparing for the next test or something and hamish starts liking him? Ps you are like the only person who does the order fics and I love that you do it because I love the order boys!!” by anonymous

Word Count: 3000+

Masterlist

Psychology was hard.

School was never one of those things that came easy to Y/n. He wasn't one of those kids who could sit there and give the bare minimum effort. He struggled to follow throughout an entire lecture because the sun was bright and the grass was really green and he knew it was a nice day outside today and... wait now he'd missed five minutes of class, dang it!

In college, five minutes was like missing three days of school. The topic was suddenly completely different and Y/n was lost and confused.

That didn't stop him from being a top student in each one of his classes though. He had always been proud of his grades and worked himself near death if necessary, if it meant getting an A. Not literally near death of course, that was dramatic.

Y/n had taught himself time management at a very young age. It had been the key to his success ever since. He slept and ate food - three meals a day - and even kept a job, taking every free moment he had to study his ass off so that he knew what was going on and could deliver the proof with those beautiful red A's on the top of each of his papers.

Y/n really did study so much to get those results though. On his breaks at work, between classes, before and after school, during meals and off periods. He even quizzed himself in the bathroom and the shower, checking to make sure he'd gotten it right when he got out. It was hard and tiring, but it meant that he succeeded every time, and that's what was important.

He was a good student. His psychology teacher's TA, Hamish Duke, was very appreciative of it.

Hamish was around a lot more than the teacher was. He taught lectures and even graded papers. This class had long since been seen as Hamish’s class, and that was perhaps why it was so easy for him to slip every conversation into the direction of Y/n. Hamish was proud of all his students, but most often his star pupil.

Hamish talked about Y/n constantly. Or, more accurately, his grades. Like a proud parent showing off his child, Hamish filled his friends' ears with rant after rant about his favorite student. The only student that seemed genuinely knowledgeable about the material. The only student as well who turned in his stuff early and asked questions rather than just listening, and seemed dedicated and focused on everything, as Hamish said.

One day during one of these rants, Lilith said something that changed everything. "He likes you."

Hamish jerked back, his face twisting in disbelief. "What? No he doesn't."

Randall snorted. "No, I have to go with Lilith on this one, Hamish. I have math class with Y/n and he doesn't pay attention at all. He's just a super nerd and teaches the stuff to himself in his free time."

"Some boy doesn't pay attention in any class but Hamish's?" Jack laughed. "Dude so has a crush on you."

Rolling his eyes, Hamish stood. "You guys obviously have no sense of respect. Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to- I already knew that." The trio laughed as Hamish walked away.

After that though, Hamish became hyper aware of Y/n. The boy had his eyes on Hamish nonstop. Every once in a while, he'd even mutter under his breath as he'd watch and Hamish realized after a while that he was watching so closely, he was subconsciously mouthing along with Hamish. Probably because he read the book on his own time as well. Which made Hamish wonder why Y/n ever came to class. If he read the book, was he just... adding some context? Insight? So he asked Randall about it.

"Y/n only comes to class about half the time. The entire time he asks questions, but it's never about what's happened in previous classes or anything- just clarification about what we're learning now. I think he's got some theories? I don't know, he likes to test the water and push formulas. Our teacher actually gets a kick off of it. Y/n makes math fun, and... well, it's math. We all get happy when he's there."

So he might have stayed consistent with his insatiable need to deeply understand everything he took part in, but there was something different about Randall's experience from Hamish's. First of all, Y/n had never missed even a single one of Hamish's classes. Hamish knew because he had a perfect attendance record, and Hamish and the teacher - Ms. Merrill - talked about Y/n around their discussion on the newest lesson plan, batch of tests or even homework.

While Hamish was trying to ignore the thought of Y/n's possible feelings for him and teach a lesson instead, Y/n threw him off by approaching him after class. "Mr. Duke, I was wondering if you know any good tutors. I've been really struggling with the stuff we've been going over recently.

Hamish quirked an eyebrow. "Your grades are almost perfect."

There was a small smile on Y/n's lips when he spoke next. "Unfortunately, grades don't reflect understanding. I can sense myself starting to struggle I don't want to depend on luck being as good to me as it has been."

"Surely you're being modest."

A light chuckle. "Well, yes. I never depend on luck. I have been making educated guesses though and crossing my fingers on the rest."

That Hamish could relate to. "I see. I have to say, I don't really know anyone doing as well in my class as you are. No one who seems to be getting it as well as you do at least. It's mostly your questions that seem to clear up a lot of things for everyone else." Y/n seemed to lose hope as Hamish spoke. Maybe it was the look of panic that caused Hamish to speak next. "Uh, maybe I could." Y/n's eyes widened. "I just- I mean, obviously I understand it a little better. And in a one-on-one setting, it'll be less a lecture and more teaching since I'll be able to take you through my understanding on a deeper level."

"You'd do that?" Y/n looked so hopeful...

Despite the little voice screaming at Hamish to run, he couldn't bring himself to. "Yeah. When are you free?"

"I work everyday except Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Wednesdays I have completely free but if you wanted to work around Tuesday or Saturday that would be fine." Y/n pulled out a pen from behind his ear. Hamish hadn't noticed it before.

Hamish shuffled. He felt awkward for some reason. Why did he feel awkward? "Wednesdays will be perfectly fine for me. Should I get your number so we can decide what time and place?" Y/n nodded before holding out the pen and offering... his arm. "You don't have paper?"

Y/n rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond not mocking. "I really have to get to work actually. Could you just-?" He motioned to his arm and Hamish shrugged before trying to be delicate as he inked his number on the inside of Y/n's arm. "Thanks! I'll call you." He turned and moved quite quickly out of the room before disappearing out the doors. It was only after Y/n was gone that Hamish realized he still had the pen.

It was fine, he could give it back when they met up to study later.

Later on in the day, Hamish was still struggling to understand why he was so excited for the Wednesday study session. I mean Y/n seemed really cool so maybe Hamish just wanted to be friends with him. That made sense. But right as Hamish thought he was finally over it, it popped back in his brain again and he felt weirdly jittery and unfocused. He kept having to reread the problem he was on because he would get distracted before he could answer it then forget what it was when he finally focused again.

Lilith snapped her book open. "Okay, what's your deal?" The other two boys looked over. Hamish was surprised when he went to look at who she'd snapped at and had seen them all looking at him. When he only looked back confused, Lilith rolled her eyes. "Come on Hamish spill the beans. You won't sit still and you keep looking outside like you're waiting for a package to arrive or something."

"The last time he got like that was when you took him online shopping and he bought a grey v-neck. He threw a party when it came." The tease came from Randall.

"The he cried when you threw up on it," Lilith recalled.

"He CRIED?" Jack's eyes widened in amusement.

"It made my eyes look really good and that stain never came out!" Hamish exclaimed, defending himself.

Lilith shut up the others as they began to laugh. "Anyway, what has you all messed up now?”

Hamish scoffed. "Nothing could be as cool as a gray v-neck. You still owe me a replacement by the way," he shot at Randall, who winked and grinned in response.

"Hamish," Lilith snapped.

Pursing his lips, Hamish hesitated. Then he sighed. "There's only one thing I've got planned and it's not a big deal." Everyone leaned forward. When he didn't explain Randall motioned him to continue. Hamish rolled his eyes. "Y/n asked for some help-"

"You have a date with Y/n?" Jack demanded, his grin already face splitting.

"It's not a date!" Hamish slammed his own book shut. "He just needs someone to study with. He seems to be struggling."

Randall snorted, wiggling his eyebrows. "Probably because he's so distracted by Mr. Teacher."

Lilith nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a study date to me."

Waving his hand to dismiss what they were saying, Hamish stood and moved to the bar. Maybe if he drank something he could make sense of the chaos. Both of his friends and the one that was made up of his emotions. He usually handled both plenty well but they seemed to be refusing to make sense today. "You guys are idiots."

Idiots or not, their words followed Hamish all the way to Wednesday. He and Y/n only texted once to establish the time and place and it was just as professional as their conversation in person had been, but that didn't stop Hamish's mind from going wild. For the first time since Cassie he felt... stupid. He didn't know what to do or say. He found himself wanting to text Y/n more, but couldn't find a reason to. Why was this messing him up so much?

Panicked, Hamish pulled Randall aside at the last second. "I am freaking out."

"Your thing with Y/n today?" Randall asked. Hamish just wordlessly nodded. Randall smiled. "You like him, don't you?" Hamish was stubborn, but he wasn't dumb. He closed his eyes, groaning. "You have for a while?" Randall continued. "Like even before we said anything."

Hamish thought about that for a second. He thought about Ms. Merrill teasing him about how much he talked about Y/n. How she would hand him all Y/n's papers and tests to grade. He thought about the smiles on people's faces when he mentioned Y/n at all. He thought of the warmth in his gut he'd passed off as pride this whole time but, on a second look, was obviously something more. "Yeah." He frowned as he focused on Randall again. "Why did it take me so long to realize?"

Randall smiled. "You're stubborn. Once you've set your mind it'll never be changed. Whatever it was - whether you mislabeled the emotion, or the relationship between you guys, or even you or Y/n as people. Once you labeled it, you weren't going to be swayed until someone forced you to."

"Thank you Lilith," Hamish mumbled, feigning bitterness. Randall laughed. After a second, Hamish asked, "What now?"

Clapping Hamish on the shoulder, Randall let out a heavy sigh. "Now you go to this study date and you woo the boy. Duh."

So that's what Hamish did. He met up with Y/n and recognized the swell in his chest when he saw him. The way his stomach twisted. Now that he knew what it was, he was nervous rather than excited. Why was it suddenly so hard to talk to someone once you liked them?

They were already acquainted. Y/n had seen Hamish in all kinds of conditions, if not all but his worst. They knew plenty about each other, if just in passing. They'd talked plenty of times. They'd even been alone a few times, in a setting just like this. Y/n had been there when Hamish had been a disaster while trying to adjust to fully teaching a class instead of just doing grunt work. He'd helped Hamish out even, instead of teasing him or messing with him like the others students tried to do. What did Hamish have to be afraid of? Y/n trusted Hamish with his grades and education, and that seemed to mean a lot to him. Hamish trusted Y/n too. To tell the truth. To guide and help when he was struggling, and to liven things up when it got boring. It shouldn't have been hard to just talk to him.

And yet.

Y/n placed a hand on Hamish's arm. "Hey, are you okay? You seem upset." Hamish looked at him and realized how close together they were. Not too close, like friends, but far closer than they'd ever been before.

He didn't know what possessed him. It would have been better to break the ice. Maybe bring it up casually and talk about it. Flirt or tease. Anything to transition or something. Hamish skipped all of that. In his little moment of panic, he just leaned in right for the kiss.

And Y/n jerked away.

Hamish nearly choked. "I- I'm so sorry-"

Blush swallowed Y/n's face. "You were going to kiss me, right? I didn't misread that?"

"Yes." Hamish white knuckled his pencil. "I should have lead into that. You just- have these really pretty eyes-" He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"You... I'm sorry you just took me by surprise." Y/n rubbed his forehead. "Please don't tell me you thought I asked for your help because I liked you." Hamish's smile fell and he tried to find something to say, but Y/n looked uncomfortable and he was afraid he'd make it worse. "Hamish, I meant what I said when I inquired for help. You suggested doing it yourself. I don't... like you like that. Honestly I'm about to take a short leave for a few days and didn't want to get behind so I thought I'd get some clarification on some things I've been studying on my own."

Hamish felt like an idiot. "Oh."

"Yeah," Y/n returned softly.

"I'm... so sorry," Hamish breathed out. "Honestly I was talking about you to my friends because I admire your hard work and good grades and how you engage in class and make it fun, and they messed up my head." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "How about we ignore all of that and focus on school? I'm sure you still need help."

Y/n paused, a smile growing on his face. "I'd like that. I don't think I could get anyone as good as you to help me with this."

The awkward tension passed in a few moments as they got absorbed in work. The problem was, as Hamish easily lost himself in teaching, Y/n was now the one who found himself distracted. Hamish had a really nice smile and the sun reflected off his eyes and hair and made him look like he was almost glowing. Y/n hadn't noticed it before, but now... thinking about Hamish kissing him. How Hamish might like him. Might have been thinking about him and wondering. Getting up the courage for this little thing, and how he hadn't run away to save his pride because he valued Y/n's need enough to push away his own feelings.

They parted on good terms, shaking hands after a pause. Then they gathered their stuff and went their separate ways.

Hamish refused to talk about the "date" with Y/n, no matter how much his friends begged and prodded. Not even Lilith could pry anything from him. When Y/n didn't show up for class, Hamish figured he was gone for his little break. A break that lasted for a week and a half. Every class without Y/n was super boring and seemed to teach no one anything. Students all stared at him like he was speaking another language, and everyone refused to ask any questions. No jokes or engagement at all. He understood what Randall had meant by everyone getting excited when Y/n came to class now.

It was right after the next class Y/n hadn't been at that the man himself suddenly appeared. He looked determined about something, walking to Hamish quickly. Hamish was at the back of the room, trying to pull himself together and lift his spirits as he worried yet again that he was maybe just a bad teacher and Y/n was the one who made people stay and come at all. It was then that Y/n barged in and walked right up to him, cutting him off int he middle of greeting him and asking what he needed to grab him by the shirt and pull him into a kiss.

Without hesitation, Hamish kissed back. He held Y/n's face as the other boy pulled them as close together as they could get. When they parted, they'd moved a little so that Y/n was sitting on Hamish's desk, Hamish between his legs. "Whoa," Hamish whispered, both stunned by the kiss and their current position.

Y/n exhaled a sharp breath. "You asshole. I've been thinking about you nonstop for MONTHS and you finally try and kiss me right when I'm getting over you. Then I'm gone and all I can think about is you again and I miss you and your stupid class and your hair and eyes and your voice and how much I wanted you to kiss me so guess who's back early because I need you to kiss me? GUESS."

Hamish chuckled, soft but for quite a while. Y/n shoves him, but before he can go off again Hamish is already kissing him for the second time. Both boys relaxed and melted into each other. "Hey," Hamish whispered.

"Hi," Y/n whispered back.

The older boy's thumb brushed over Y/n's cheek. "Let me take you on a real date."

Biting his lip to try and contain his smile, Y/n considered. "Only if you agree to be my boyfriend."

Hamish grinned. "Does this mean we can be study buddies all the time?"

"Will you distract me with kisses like you tried to last time?" Y/n asked.

Tilting his head, Hamish avoided answering. "Not... EVERY time..."

Y/n laughed, shaking his head. "Fine. Deal."

"Deal," Hamish agreed. And they kissed again to seal it. Finally.

#hamish duke #the order #the knights of saint chrisptoher #the knights of the order of the hermedic blue rose #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke imagine #male reader #the order x reader #the order imagine #the knights of saint christopher x reader #the knights of saint Christopher imagine

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blackswaneuroparedux · 5 years ago

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Anonymous asked: I noticed you did post to acknowledge the death of Uderzo, the co-creator of the Asterix comics. I have to ask Tintin or Asterix? Which one do you prefer?

It’s like asking Stones or Beatles? I love both but for different reasons. I would hate to choose between the two.

Both Tintin and Asterix were the two halves of a comic dyad of my childhood. Whether it was India, China, Hong Kong, Japan, or the Middle East the one thing that threads my childhood experience of living in these countries was finding a quiet place in the home to get lost reading Asterix and Tintin.

Even when I was eventually carted off to boarding school back in England I took as many of my Tintin and Asterix comics books with me as I could. They became like underground black market currency to exchange with other girls for other things like food or chocolates sent by parents and other illicit things like alcohol. Having them and reading them was like having familiar friends close by to make you feel less lonely in new surroundings and survive the bear pit of other girls living together.

If you asked my parents - especially my father - he would say Tintin hands down. He has - and continues to have in his library at home - a huge collection of Tintin comic books in as many different language translations as possible. He’s still collecting translations of each of the Tintin books in the most obscure languages he can find. I have both all the Tintin comic books - but only in English and French translations, and the odd Norwegian one - as well as all the Asterix comic books (only in English and French).

Speaking for myself I would be torn to decide between the two. Each have their virtues and I appreciate them for different reasons.

Tintin was truly about adventure that spoke deeply to me. Tintin was always a good detective story that soon turned to a travel adventure. It has it all: technology, politics, science and history. Of course the art is more simpler, but it is also cleaner and translates the wondrous far-off locations beautifully and with a sense of awe that you don’t see in the Asterix books. Indeed Hergé was into film-noir and thriller movies, and the panels are almost like storyboards for The Maltese Falcon or African Queen.

The plot lines of Tintin are intriguing rather than overly clever but the gallery of characters are much deeper, more flawed and morally ambiguous. Take Captain Haddock I loved his pullover, his strangely large feet, his endless swearing and his inability to pass a bottle without emptying it. He combined bravery and helplessness in a manner I found irresistible.

I’ve read that there is a deeply Freudian reading to the Tintin books. I think there is a good case for it. The Secret of the Unicorn and Red Rackham's Treasure are both about Captain Haddock's family. Haddock's ancestor, Sir Francis Haddock, is the illegitimate son of the French Sun King – and this mirrors what happened in Hergé's family, who liked to believe that his father was the illegitimate son of the Belgian king. This theme played out in so many of the books. In The Castafiore Emerald, the opera singer sings the jewel song from Faust, which is about a lowly woman banged up by a nobleman – and she sings it right in front of Sir Francis Haddock, with the captain blocking his ears. It's like the Finnegans Wake of the cartoon. Nothing happens - but everything happens.

Another great part is that the storylines continue on for several albums, allowing them to be more complex, instead of the more simplistic Asterix plot lines which are always wrapped up nicely at the end of each book.

Overall I felt a great affinity with Tintin - his youthful innocence, wanting to solve problems, always resourceful, optimistic, and brave. Above all Tintin gave me wanderlust. Was there a place he and Milou (Snowy) didn’t go to? When they had covered the four corners of the world Tintin and Milou went to the moon for heaven’s sake!

What I loved about Asterix was the style, specifically Uderzo’s visual style. I liked Hergé’s clean style, the ligne claire of his pen, but Asterix was drawn as caricature: the big noses, the huge bellies, often being prodded by sausage-like fingers. This was more appealing to little children because they were more fun to marvel at.

In particular I liked was the way Uderzo’s style progressed with each comic book. The panels of Asterix the Gaul felt rudimentary compared to the later works and by the time Asterix and Cleopatra, the sixth book to be published, came out, you finally felt that this was what they ought to look like. It was an important lesson for a child to learn: that you could get better at what you did over time. Each book seemed to have its own palette and perhaps Uderzo’s best work is in Asterix in Spain.

I also feel Asterix doesn’t get enough credit for being more complex. Once you peel back the initial layers, Asterix has some great literal depth going on - puns and word play, the English translation names are all extremely clever, there are many hidden details in the superb art to explore that you will quite often miss when you initially read it and in a lot of the truly classic albums they are satirising a real life country/group/person/political system, usually in an incredibly clever and humorous way.

What I found especially appealing was that it was also a brilliant microcosm of many classical studies subjects - ancient Egypt, the Romans and Greek art - and is a good first step for young children wanting to explore that stuff before studying it at school.

What I discovered recently was that Uderzo was colour blind which explains why he much preferred the clear line to any hint of shade, and it was that that enabled his drawings to redefine antiquity so distinctively in his own terms. For decades after the death of René Goscinny in 1977, Uderzo provided a living link to the golden age of the greatest series of comic books ever written: Paul McCartney to Goscinny’s John Lennon. Uderzo, as the Asterix illustrator, was better able to continue the series after Goscinny’s death than Goscinny would have been had Uderzo had died first, and yet the later books were, so almost every fan agrees, not a patch on the originals: very much Wings to the Beatles. What elevated the cartoons, brilliant though they were, to the level of genius was the quality of the scripts that inspired them. Again and again, in illustration after illustration, the visual humour depends for its full force on the accompaniment provided by Goscinny’s jokes.

Here below is a great example:

There’s a lot of genius in this. Uderzo copied Theodore Géricault’s iconic ‘Raft of the Medusa’ 1818 painting in ‘Asterix The Legionary’. The painting is generally regarded as an icon of Romanticism. It depicts an event whose human and political aspects greatly interested Géricault: the wreck of a French frigate, Medusa, off the coast of Senegal in 1816, with over 150 soldiers on board. But Anthea Bell’s translation of Goscinny’s text (including the pictorial and verbal pun ‘we’ve been framed, by Jericho’) is really extraordinary and captures the spirit of the Asterix cartoons perfectly.

This captures perfectly my sense of humour as it acknowledges the seriousness of life but finds humour in them through a sly cleverness and always with a open hearted joy. There is no question that if humour was the measuring yard stick then Asterix and not Tintin would win hands down.

It’s also a mistake to think that the world of Asterix was insular in comparison to the amazing countries Tintin had adventures. Asterix’s world is very much Europe.

Every nationality that Asterix encounters is gently satirised. No other post-war artistic duo offered Europeans a more universally popular portrait of themselves, perhaps, than did Goscinny and Uderzo. The stereotypes with which he made such affectionate play in his cartoons – the haughty Spaniard, the chocolate-loving Belgian, the stiff-upper-lipped Briton – seemed to be just what a continent left prostrate by war and nationalism were secretly craving. Many shrewd commentators believe that during the golden age when Goscinny was still alive to pen the scripts, that it was a fantasy on French resistance during occupation by Nazi Germany. Uderzo lived through the occupation and so there is truth in that. Perhaps this is why the Germans are the exceptions as they are treated unsympathetically in Asterix and the Goths, and why quite a few of the books turn on questions of loyalty and treachery.

Even the British are satirised with an affection that borders on love: the worst of the digs are about our appalling cuisine (everything is boiled, and served with mint sauce, and the beer is warm), but everything points to the Gauls’ and the Britons’ closeness. They have the same social structure, even down to having one village still holding out against the Romans; the crucial and extremely generous difference being that the Britons do not have a magic potion to help them fight. Instead they have tea, introduced to them by Getafix, via Asterix, which gives them so much of a psychological boost that it may as well have been the magic potion.

I re-read ‘Asterix in Britain’ (Astérix chez les Bretons) in the light of the 2016 Brexit referendum result and felt despaired that such a playful and respectful portrayal of this country was not reciprocated. Don’t get me wrong I voted for Brexit but I remain a staunch Europhile. It made me violently irritated to see many historically illiterate pro-Brexit oiks who mistakenly believed the EU and Europe were the same thing. They are not. One was originally a sincere band aid to heal and bring together two of the greatest warring powers in continental Europe that grotesquely grew into an unaccountable bureaucratic manager’s utopian wet dream, and the other is a cradle of Western achievement in culture, sciences and the arts that we are all heirs to.

What I loved about Asterix was that it cut across generations. As a young girl I often retreated into my imaginary world of Asterix where our family home had an imaginary timber fence and a dry moat to keep the world (or the Romans) out. I think this was partly because my parents were so busy as many friends and outsiders made demands on their time and they couldn’t say no or they were throwing lavish parties for their guests. Family time was sacred to us all but I felt especially miffed if our time got eaten away. Then, as I grew up, different levels of reading opened up to me apart from the humour in the names, the plays on words, and the illustrations. There is something about the notion of one tiny little village, where everybody knows each other, trying to hold off the dark forces of the rest of the world. Being the underdog, up against everyone, but with a sense of humour and having fun, really resonated with my child's eye view of the world.

The thing about both Asterix and Tintin books is that they are at heart adventure comics with many layers of detail and themes built into them. For children, Asterix books are the clear winner, as they have much better art and are more fantastical. Most of the bad characters in the books are not truly evil either and no-one ever dies, which appeals hugely to children. For older readers, Tintin has danger, deeper characters with deep political themes, bad guys with truly evil motives, and even deaths. It’s more rooted in the real world, so a young reader can visualise themselves as Tintin, travelling to these real life places and being a hero.

As I get older and re-read Asterix and Tintin from time to time I discover new things.

From Asterix, there is something about the notion of one tiny little village, where everybody knows each other, trying to hold off the dark forces of the rest of the world. Being the underdog, up against everyone, but with a sense of humour and having fun, really resonated with my child's eye view of the world. In my adult world it now makes me appreciate the value of family, friends, and community and even national identity. Even as globalisation and the rise of homogenous consumerism threatens to envelope the unique diversity of our cultures, like Asterix, we can defend to the death the cultural values that define us but not through isolation or by diminishing the respect due to other cultures and their cultural achievements.

From Tintin I got wanderlust. This fierce even urgent need to travel and explore the world was in part due to reading the adventures of Tintin. It was by living in such diverse cultures overseas and trying to get under the skin of those cultures by learning their languages and respecting their customs that I realised how much I valued my own heritage and traditions without diminishing anyone else.

So I’m sorry but I can’t choose one over the other, I need both Asterix and Tintin as a dyad to remind me that the importance of home and heritage is best done through travel and adventure elsewhere.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #comics #tintin #asterix #personal #arts #culture

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lokiondisneyplus · 5 years ago

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Over five popular seasons, the story lines of “Better Call Saul” have unfolded across nail salons, fried-chicken joints and other strip-mall staples of American life.

When new episodes begin premiering next year, though, the locations that give the “Breaking Bad” spinoff its texture could be reined in or done away with altogether. The culprit? The novel coronavirus, which is limiting where the New Mexico-set AMC show can film, potentially altering both its style and substance.

“Like a lot of other people, we’re going to have to be very creative in where and how we shoot,” said Mark Johnson, the veteran producer who oversees the Vince Gilligan hit, whose writers just began collaborating on the series’s sixth season. “A lot of places just won’t let you in.”

Across the entertainment industry, casts and crew are beginning to return to work after a five-month hiatus. In states with loosened restrictions, such as Georgia and New York, production is starting to crank up under tight controls that alter how sets operate. Instead of crew members freely mingling, they’re being divided into “pods" that limit how production departments such as wardrobe or lighting can associate. Covid-19 officers monitor the health of the cast and crew to determine who is allowed on set. “Zones” dictate where those cast and crew can go.

These changes might seem technical, but they hint at the far-reaching effects the virus will have on final screen products. Interviews with 12 executives, writers, agents and producers across the Hollywood spectrum suggest a dramatically transformed world of entertainment. Until a vaccine comes along, they say, covid-19 will change what Americans watch as dramatically as it has where they work, shop and learn. Forget the new normal — movies and TV are about to encounter the new austerity.

Crowd scenes are a no-go. Real-world locations will be limited. On-screen romance will be less common, sometimes restricted to actors who have off-screen relationships. And independent films — that tantalizing side dish in the U.S. entertainment meal — could be heavily scaled back.

“A lot of people believe this is just about getting back to work,” said Mark Gill, a producer and former head of Warner Independent Pictures, the studio unit responsible for independent hits such as “Slumdog Millionaire” and “Good Night, and Good Luck.” “They don’t realize the massive cultural impact we’re about to face.”

For most of its history, Hollywood created entertainment based on a simple premise: Shuttle in large numbers of people and move them around at will. That’s certainly true of crews. But it especially applies to extras, the low-paid day laborers who pack sets and off-camera holding areas in order to create dense crowd scenes — and, in turn, lend the work real-world atmosphere.

Such scenes have of course been part of some of the most memorable moments in Hollywood history. From “Ben-Hur” to “Braveheart,” on-screen entertainment has become indelible thanks to hundreds of people you’ve never heard of packing tiny spaces, then moving as one when the cameras roll.

Yet the virus has essentially made these hires impossible. Many don’t want to risk their health for a $100 paycheck and remote shot at background glory, and producers don’t want to take on the liability even if they did. “Braveheart" used about 1,600 extras, many from the Irish Army reserves. Experts say the movie couldn’t come close to being shot today.

“Those of us in the entertainment business are not used to being told ‘no’‚” said Lucas Foster, a longtime Hollywood producer who counts the 2005 romantic-action hit “Mr. & Mrs. Smith” and last year’s Oscar-decorated blockbuster “Ford v Ferrari” among his credits. “And when it comes to things like crowds, there’s going to be a lot of no.”

Foster understands the challenges personally — he’s one of the first producers to have made a movie in the age of covid-19.

In March, the Los Angeles resident was in Australia, several weeks into preproduction on a new version of “Children of the Corn” when the pandemic began to spread. Millions of dollars had already been committed to the movie, adapted from the same Stephen King story that yielded the 1984 cult hit. So rather than shut down, he decided to proceed — cautiously. Foster created a production bubble, consulted doctors regularly, procured large amounts of tests, and engaged in elaborate workarounds in realms like crowd scenes.

He said it worked, but with major accommodations.

“I had to figure out how to do a crowd with no more than a few people at the same time. And with very specific camera angles. And by taking actors who would normally be close together and making them not close together,” Foster said. “In the end, I’d get the scene I needed but it looked different than it would have before the pandemic.” (Computer-generated crowds, he and other producers say, only work for more distant shots; anything requiring close-ups needs the real thing.)

It helped, he noted, that many of his actors were children, who are believed less susceptible to the effects of the virus, and that much of the movie was shot in cornfields and other vast outdoor spaces, a luxury not all films have.

Producers say the added cost required to implement all the safeguards could also result in a lower-end finished product. Films and TV shows achieve their level of shine through an endless period of refinement, with actors and directors often attempt 10 or more takes of a scene. With everything now going longer — and thus costing more — they may not have the luxury.

One producer of multiple studio hits said he expects the number of takes to drop significantly as the virus balloons budgets. He also expected a diminution in night scenes, which tend to be more involved and expensive than day scenes. He said some productions will be able to make the switch, but not all will be as lucky.

Also unlucky, say Hollywood veterans: movies where characters seek to get lucky. Many insiders say romantic scenes will be a major challenge in movies. Two agents separately reported they had high-profile clients who told them they wouldn’t shoot love scenes during the pandemic.

“I think every agency right now is looking down their client list to see which actors have spouses who are also actors, because then we could try to get them cast, too,” said one of the agents, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because they were not authorized by their company to speak to the news media. “I’m joking. Sort of.”

The added wrinkle is even if the actors trust each other in real life, many of their characters would still have to take precautions on screen.

“How do you send two characters on a first dinner date when people aren’t really going on first dinner dates?” said a creator of romantic comedies who asked not to be identified because they did not want to be seen as criticizing colleagues who are attempting new projects. “You can send them on a socially distant walk, I guess.”

Writers say that leads to a broader dilemma: how much to incorporate the pandemic into their stories. On one hand, they say they don’t want to pretend the virus doesn’t exist. But acknowledging it poses its own challenges.

“Do you really want your stars wearing masks because that’s what characters would do? Do you want to have people engaging with each other in groups no larger than six? Do you want to write stories where everyone is at a safe distance?” said Mark Heyman, the co-writer of “Black Swan” and “The Skeleton Twins” and creator of the CBS All-Access historical drama “Strange Angel.” “Because a lot of those things won’t be very much fun to watch.”

Yet if creators aren’t willing to do that, he said, it could lead to those shows or movies getting shelved out of a fear that audiences will judge them inauthentic.

Heyman was working on a series set in a high school for Netflix when the lockdowns began. That project has now been put on pause. “It’s not easy to make a show about high school,” he said, “when there is no high school.”

To avoid reminding viewers of the pandemic, creators may take an approach that will lead to an unusual trend.

“I think over the next few years you’re going to see a lot more movies set in the past,” Foster said. “Even movies written for the present will be changed. They’ll make it the ’90s because then you don’t have to deal with these questions. And then you can just put in some cool ’90s music, so everybody wins.”

A few creators have gone the other way, leaning in to the pandemic.

Writers on Apple TV Plus’s “The Morning Show,” set at a news program, have torn up existing scripts to make the pandemic a part of the story line, according to a person familiar with the show who was not authorized to speak about it publicly. But with a lag time of months between shooting and airing, experts say that creators also risk looking out of date by the time episodes release to the public.

Sensing an opportunity, horror filmmakers have also tried to embrace current events.

“The horror genre is very suited to the pandemic and lockdowns — we’re always trying to create a feeling of being trapped anyway,” said the horror filmmaker Nathan Crooker.

When quarantines hit this spring, Crooker gathered nine noted horror filmmakers and had them shoot an anthology film — short fictional movies connected by the larger virus theme — and titled it “Isolation.” He required filmmakers to use only the materials and people they were in lockdown with, even prohibiting Zoom and other technologies.

“I think we’re going to get a very cool effect that mirrors what people are going through,” Crooker said of his work. “But I don’t know that every movie that gets made would want to look like that.”

One consequence of the virus could turn out to be the movies that don’t get made at all.

Some of the most beloved films of the past two decades, from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” to “Whiplash,” “Little Miss Sunshine” to “Fruitvale Station,” were independently financed. But before rolling cameras, independent productions require insurance policies to protect them from workplace lawsuits, along with completion bonds, in which a guarantor assures they will step in with funds to finish the movie if production is halted.

Experts say no company will cover covid-19 with either policy, effectively preventing production.

“Covid is an absolute disaster for the independent-film industry,” said Sky Moore, a partner in the corporate entertainment department of the Los Angeles law firm Greenberg Glusker who has spent several decades putting together film financing deals. “The lifeblood of independent-film financing is loans, and loans need insurance. Now you have this massive hole in the middle of all of it.”

Moore believes the toll will be vast.

“I think 50 percent of the independent industry goes away,” he said.

(Movies financed by large studios do not buy these policies; Netflix or Disney would just absorb a shutdown or lawsuit as the cost of doing business.)

Even if they can work around the insurance issues, many independent films won’t get made because they simply won’t have the money. “It’s already hard to get funding for a lot of these movies,” said Shaun MacGillivray, a producer who makes large-scale independent documentaries. “And now you’re telling investors the budget is going to be 30 percent higher?”

The independent-film world is trying to push ahead, slowly. The Sundance Film Festival, the epicenter of the indie-film business, where companies like Hulu and Netflix sometimes pay more than $10 million for an independently financed movie, will hold a partially physical, partially virtual edition in January, albeit at just about half the length.

“We are reminded daily of the power of what is made newly visible to us, the importance of what we look at,” Tabitha Jackson, the director of the festival, said in a letter to staff this summer explaining why the festival needed to go on. “My hope for this edition of the Sundance Film Festival is that through a multiplicity of perspectives held by artists and audiences in their various communities we will also come to feel the power of where we look from.” Left unspoken: What happens in 2022, when the well runs dry because new movies can’t be insured and produced?

Whatever entertainment can get made, experts say, will have a more hermetic look. Even television shows, once shot heavily on sets, now often rely on the authenticity of locations; a police procedural feels like it does because detectives are popping into pizza places and apartment buildings.

“We don’t want everything to be a chamber piece,” said Johnson, the “Better Call Saul” executive producer. “But if many shows look different, I think that’s okay, because the world looks different.”

Then, considering the challenge further, he added, “And if that doesn’t work, then at least our show has a lot of deserts and open roads.”

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 5 years ago

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Meeting and Dating Eddie Birdlace

(My gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I can’t promise that these are historically accurate. Also, I didn’t really change Eddie and Roses first date because I love that sort of ‘do whatever looks fun’ kind of date.)

- You met Eddie while he was getting his military physical. You were working as a nurse, giving different exams to the soldiers when he was first ushered to your station. The instant he saw you he blurted out something akin to “Jesus Christ” because dear lord you were an angel.

- Poor you had to deal with all four B’s in a row, but you had to admit that you didn’t mind dealing with Birdlace... mainly because he was speechless for a hot minute, unsure of what to say to a girl like you. He needed to make a good first impression, think, think, thi—

“You have nice eyes.” Great job Einstein. Even though he was internally cursing at himself, you seemed to think it was somewhat endearing.

“Well thank you. Perhaps we should check if you do too.” You joked as you led him over to the eye examinations.

- Now that the ice was broken he finally tried to “work his magic”, complimenting you and trying to make conversation. It was really quite hard to concentrate on what you were doing. So finally you just pressed a finger to his lips and asked if you agreeing to go out with him would make him stay quiet. He smiled and pretended to zip his lips, finishing his exam without a hitch.

“What time do you get to leave here?” He asked after you were finished writing down his results. You stifled a laugh and told him to pick you up from your house at six.

- He may or may not have arrived half an hour early and literally beat you there. Although to be fair, it was kind of nice coming home to a handsome man, holding flowers he bought for you on your front step. Good thing you only really needed to change your clothes and touch yourself up.

- For your first date, the two of you went on a nice little adventure around town. You sort of just wandered and talked until you found something you wanted to do, did it, then wandered some more. It was still the best date you’ve ever been on even if, in theory, it might not sound the greatest.

- Your first kiss is that same day, or rather night by the time you get back home. You’re standing on your front step with him, not really wanting to part from each other but knowing you have to since you have work in the morning. The two of you are just kind of muttering to each other, getting a bit closer inch by inch until he finally closes the distance and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

- ...Which prompted you to invite him inside. And, well, let’s just say he’s spent many nights (and days) there ever since.

- In his eyes you’re a proper lady and he wants to treat you like one so he tends to keep his pda light. Little touches, handholding, quick kisses, laying his head in your lap or having you lean your head on his shoulder, things like that.

- He likes being able to call you “his girl” especially to other people. Another common nickname is darling but he usually uses it sarcastically or when he’s overacting.

- The flattery king. He’s constantly complimenting you and occasionally trying to butter you up.

- Arcade dates.

- Going to different diners together.

- Forehead kisses, nose kisses, eyelid kisses, corner of the mouth kisses, head kisses, just so many kisses, he doesn’t stop. And hell you don’t want him to.

- He thinks you deserve only the best and he’s determined to give it to you.

- He thinks you’re an angel and that the world doesn’t deserve you. Whenever you get upset/insecure he’ll tell you that and you’ll just have to believe him because he isn’t one for poetic shit like that.

- He tries to act like a gentleman when you’re around, holding open doors for you and pulling out your chair.

- Although he isn’t great at it, he does try to stop cursing in front of you even if you don’t particularly have a problem with it.

- In theory, he’s pretty good with the ladies, but when it really comes down to it he doesn’t know what you want. He always tries his best to think of things you’d like but he ends up second guessing himself at least once, wondering if it’s just a myth that women like this or that.

- If you ever get dressed up just know that you’ll make him nearly speechless. All he can say is the same compliment over and over, all the while laughing because he feels like a fool but doesn’t know what else to say.

- He’s very skilled at sneaking in through your window but the instant he gets inside he’s a bit of a clumsy bastard. You always have to make sure the areas clear because if there’s anything there he will trip.

- Late night walks and adventures.

- A lot of the time he just decides what you’ll do on the spot whenever you’re hanging out together.

- Early morning goodbyes.

- If you don’t have to get up early with him he’ll leave little notes on your pillow before he goes so that he can say goodbye without waking you.

- Going dancing.

- One day the two of you were on a walk and he just decided that anytime you passed a flower vender he’d buy you a bouquet. You ended up going home with your arms full of different kinds of colorful flowers. So yeah, getting flowers from him is a pretty common occurance.

- He’d honestly spend his last penny on you without a complaint. You have to make sure he isn’t going broke over you.

- Eddies kind of neurotic. He gets really into his emotions and whatever he’s doing so you’ll sometimes have to reassure him that everything’s okay and that whatever’s happening really isn’t a big deal.

- Hes constantly a man on a mission, always scheming and coming up with things on the spot. Sometimes it’s tiresome but most of the time it’s fun to be his “partner in crime”.

- You always have the time of your life with him.

- He always likes learning new things about you or feeing like he has a good grasp on who you are. He tends to ask a lot of questions about your interests and life, wanting to pinpoint what it is about you that drives him crazy.

- Showing each other different places/things that are important to you. It especially makes him happy when you do because he feels like it’s a sign of how important he is to you.

- Riding the bus and pointing things out to each other from the window.

- He demands people respect you. If they don’t he has no problem making a problem.

- He gets a little shy whenever you give him a compliment. He gives you a quiet little “thanks” as he tries to hold back his smile, his cheeks and ears turning a light shade of red.

- Calling him a “Jarhead”.

- Visiting playgrounds together late at night. The two of you usually just sit on the swings and talk.

- He likes playing with and stroking your hair whenever the two of you are relaxing together.

- Shy, chaste kisses that he just can’t stop giving you. He’s practically addicted to kissing you.

- His friends are pretty much just as bad with women as he is but they try to act decent around you because they can see how much Eddie likes you. They’re all secretly a bit jealous that he managed to score a girl like you.

- Eddie doesn’t fall for girls very often so if the two of you are dating then he’s really invested in you. That means whenever some guy tries to “act all friendly” with you he can’t help but see it as a threat to your relationship. You’re his dream girl, he isn’t gonna let some suave, proper little boy steal you away from him.

- There’s two kinds of jealous Eddie: the passive aggressive one and the just plain aggressive one. When he’s being passive aggressive he’ll act pleasant enough but there’s always this uncomfortable underlying connotation to his words and actions. He’ll “tease” the guy but it’s mostly just insults disguised as jokes and the narrowing of his eyes isn’t lost on anybody.

- Dealing with aggressively jealous Eddie is just as bad as you think it is. He will threaten someone, he will fight someone, and he will win. Although to be fair it is kind of hot when he’s all disheveled and panting after a fight but I digress.

- He’s good at diffusing the fights that the two of you get into, mostly because he never really means to start trouble and genuinely apologizes whenever he does so accidentally. If his usual apologies don’t work then he’ll let you take some time to cool off but will ultimately try his hand at apologizing again, always giving you the choice to brush him off.

- He goes through great lengths to make things up to you and get you to forgive him because he always feels so shitty about the situation; at least when it’s his fault. He can definitely hold a grudge, even when it comes to you, so you definitely have to flat out apologize when you’re in the wrong, no dancing around it or waiting for him to just forget the fight ever happened.

- Long hugs.

- Playing with his hands and tracing his tattoos.

- Getting him to ease up on his drinking.

- Occasionally feeling embarrassed when you’re out with him in public. To be fair, he has a bad habit of acting obnoxiously loud and rambunctious, especially when he’s on one of his revenge missions.

- You kind of civilize him in a way, teaching him how to get respect and to let things go as well as any other skills he might have lost while in basic training or never had to begin with.

- Listening to his marine stories.

- Writing letters to each other when he’s deployed.

- Getting the surprise of your life when he shows up on your doorstep after the war ends, nervously holding his hat in his hands and nearly breaking down once he sees your face.

- Pulling him into a tight hug without a word.

- Kissing his scars and helping him with his leg whenever he needs it.

- He wants to see you get the most out of life and experience everything you ever dreamed of.

#eddie birdlace #eddie birdlace headcanons #eddie birdlace headcanon #eddie birdlace imagine #dogfight 1991 #dogfight #dogfight imagine #dogfight headcanons #dogfight headcanon #dogfight 1991 imagine #dogfight river phoenix #90s movies #90s movie headcanon #90s imagine #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons

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imaginesofruneterra · 5 years ago

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Aphelios x Sett x Sylas Relationship Headcanons

Anonymous asked: hiii, i hope your having a nice day!!! some relationship headcanons for aphelios, sett and sylas...

[I am, thanks! I hope your day’s going well, too! Btw, this is my first time writing poly, so please bear with me, lmao]

How their relationship develops:

Although they come from vastly different regions and backgrounds, Aphelios, Sett, and Sylas bond over the fact that they’ve all been rejected by society in one way or another. Life ain’t easy for a “heretic”, a half-breed, and a mutinous mage--but hey, at least they have each other.

Aphelios deeply admires Sett and Sylas because they’re not afraid to forge their own paths. He feels like his own fate is set in (moon)stone, and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

Sett is quite impressed by the others' fighting styles. He doesn't like relying on fancy techniques--preferring to punch his way through any situation--but he's still always eager to study the ways in which Aphelios and Sylas use their weapons. He marvels at the other men’s smooth, graceful movements and practically begs them to spar.

Similarly, Sylas is inevitably drawn to the raw, untamed magic that courses through Sett’s very being. He's also intrigued by Aphelios, who, despite having no supernatural talents of his own, is able to channel Alune's arcane power through the noctum flowers' agonizing poison. Overall, he sees them as valuable allies that can be of great use to his cause.

Established relationship headcanons:

Sett and Sylas love to compete with each other in various physical activities. They’ll do anything from races, to arm-wrestling contests, to seeing who can do the most one-handed push-ups with a flustered Phel perched on their back.

The three of them tend to go drinking together, which has led to some...interesting results.

They discovered that Sett is a loud, happy drunk--as evidenced by the time when he pranced around the tavern, proudly showing off a photo of his mama and exclaiming that everyone’s drinks were on him.

Sylas turned out to be a sad, gloomy drunk--one who could often be found in a dark corner, ranting about the bourgeoisie to any poor soul who would listen.

But worst of all, Phel is a fierce, angry drunk--causing massive bar fights to break out whenever he’s tipsy and missing his sister. For someone who stays silent most of the time, he sure has a colorful vocabulary!

For some reason, no matter how wasted he gets, Sett always wakes up feeling refreshed. He uses this to his advantage, making sure to whip up a nice hangover brunch for his partners.

Another fun pastime that they like to partake in is camping out under the stars (or in Phel’s case, the moon). It’s especially great when the dull glow of fireflies lights up their fond, goofy grins.

#league of legends #league of legends headcanons #headcanons #league of legends imagines #imagines #aphelios #lol aphelios #sett #lol sett #sylas #lol sylas #aphelios x sett x sylas #champion x champion #poly #polyamory #sfw #imaginesofruneterra

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another-sonic-blog · 5 years ago

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Stages: Secret Dance

Stages: Intimate Friends. Pt.2 (Chapter 15)

ShadAmy (Slow Burn)

4K300

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190719860945/stages-recovery

Amy noticed that Shadow was doing better. He stopped bringing in girls and he started to work out and take more rides on his bike. He was being more active overall.

Amy slowly wondered when Shadow was going to leave the Resistance but all hope of that happening faded away as soon as Shadow started sleeping on the same bed with her.

It all began days after Amy had gotten out of the hospital that Shadow randomly decided to do that and he defended himself with a stupid excuse.

"I am glad you are in recovery now, babe."

"Drop the act Sonic, the nurse is no longer here."

"Hey I needed to say I was your boyfriend, or they wouldn't let me come to visit you nor pay the hospital bill," Sonic said as he sat on the chair that Shadow had previously seated on.

Amy had completely forgotten about that, she couldn't afford to be in a hospital. She was unemployed and staying one night at the hospital was out of her reach.

"How much was it?" She asked but Sonic just shrugged.

"Don't worry about."

"I'll pay you! Just give me some time-"

"No, Ames, I got it"

"But-"

Shadow watched the two interact. Amy was stubborn, but Sonic as well. They began to raise their voices but not till the point that they were screaming at each other. Although Shadow didn't want to admit it, he was with Sonic in this one. Amy wouldn't let anyone help. her. Not Sonic, not Rouge, not him. It was as if she didn't want to be in debt to anyone but even so ...

Should you trust your friends? They are trying to help you because they love you ... so why do she feels like she owns them something?

Shadow's thoughts were interrupted as he heard Sonic sigh in defeat.

"Look, if you really want to 'pay me back', then let's have another sleepover. The last one was really fun."

It was a cold morning.

Amy moved around her bed, trying to look for warmth and comfort under her heavy blankets. She tried her best to wake up but she found it difficult as her head landed on a soft fluffy pillow. She purred, letting herself get comforted by the softness of the pillow.

But there was only one thing bothering her.

She didn't have any fluff pillows.

Her eyes struck wide open as she saw Shadow sleeping comfortably with her. Now that Amy thinks about it, she should kicked Shadow out of her room.

She took a few moments to appreciate Shadow's features. His chest moved up and down as a small snore came out of his lips. She felt the need to touch them but she restrains herself from doing so. His nose softly wrinkled and Amy thought that it was the cutest thing in the world.

Enough of appreciation, it was time to wake up.

"Get out of my bed!"

Shadow moved away instantly the moment he heard Amy's voice resonate with his ears. He gave a gruff, and he covered himself again with her blankets. Amy sighed as she jumped from the bed to the floor, avoiding Shadow. It has been two weeks since he started doing this. He didn’t do it every day and that bother Amy the most because she would get random surprises whenever she wakes up.

"Shadow, you gotta stop sleeping in my bed. How do you get in? I lock the door."

Amy went towards her small kitchen, ready to make some breakfast. Don't misunderstand her, she loved the company but it was getting harder to move on from him if he was this way with her.

"I have my ways ... besides these sleepovers... they are interesting." Shadow sat on her bed, as she watched Amy preparing cereal. It was strange for him since in the morning she would always eat bread.

"Sleepovers are not just about sleeping together," said Amy, "It's about doing fun things together."

"Like?"

"You know, watching movies, playing video games, skincare." Amy put her bowl of cereal down, she watched Shadow from afar as she directed herself to the restroom. "You know just having a nice time together."

"Let's do it." Shadow turned his head towards the restroom where Amy had popped out, brushing her teeth.

"Really?"

"Yes, I don't see why not."

"Alright, I'll see you tonight then." Amy gave him a smile, her lips still had toothpaste leftover and Shadow mentally smile at the sight.

"Also ..." Shadow stood up from the bed, heading towards the door. "I left my rent payment on your table."

"You don't need to pay me."

As if it was a life or death situation, Amy exited the restroom and headed towards her dinner table. She grabbed the money and walked towards Shadow with such an angry manner that it caught the black one off guard.

"Keep it," She said as she grabbed Shadow's hand and placed the money on his right hand. He watched her in silence but was fast to respond as well.

"You are going to let me live here for free?"

"Well, I thought you were only going to stay here for a couple of weeks and-"

Amy stopped herself as she watched Shadow's reaction. He wasn't one to show much expression, but when he does you can tell quickly by the way his ears moved. His frown was more noticeable and his eyes had a preoccupied look to them.

But just as fast as his expression came, it also went away.

"Yes, of course." Shadow said, "I'll be gone by the end of the week."

It didn't bother Shadow on the slightest that Amy was hanging out with Sonic. As her friend, he shouldn't get angry if Amy decided to spend time with other friends of hers.

What bothered him was that it seemed like Amy was hiding something from him and he didn't know what it was.

Yes, he was bothered by that ... but what extremely pissed him off was that Sonic seemed to be well aware of the secret Amy was hiding.

Sonic, not him.

Amy let Sonic help her, but when he tried doing it, she pushed him away?

Shadow had to admit that Amy seemed to be more opened when she was with Sonic. He didn't know if it was because Amy liked Sonic or just because they were good friends.

Really good friends.

Shadow didn't like that.

Amy could like Sonic for all he cares but he definitely didn't like how intimate they were. He knew that it was selfish of him, but he wanted Amy only to confide in him.

He wanted Amy to only be intimate with him.

Was that weird for a friendship?

Shadow shook his head. He knew that he didn't like Amy that way. She was just a friend, one that he cared, cherished and loved.

In a nonromantic way of course.

Like friends... very, very close friends.

Intimate friends.

Shadow arrived at G.U.N. It was his free day but since he didn't have anything better to do, he decided to check if he had any upcoming missions.

As he entered the building, he could instantly feel the looks and the stares of females, mentally undressing him. Shadow won't admit it but that low key busted his ego.

When he arrived at his desk, he once again found multiple love letters.

Shadow will never be able to understand females.

Shadow had probably talked to few girls at G.U.N. besides Rouge. Most of the time, he would ignore them and for what he considered, he was even rude to them from time to time. Even if he didn't want to intentionally.

Why were girls into guys who treated them badly?

He took care of Maria, protected her and loved her ... and she still betrayed him.

If he wanted to keep being friends with Amy, would he have to start to be mean and rude to her?

A letter caught Shadow's interest. This letter actually had a name on it.

From: Mia

To: Shadow

It was too soon. Shadow was still hurt and although he tried his best to forget, the letter still had his interest. All the letters he received were always by an anonymous person. This had to be the first time someone actually had the confidence to write a name on the paper.

To be courageous enough to express their love ... Shadow had to admire that.

Shadow put the letter in his jacket's pocket, so he could read it when he gets back home.

"Recognizing: Agent Shadow."

Shadow's thoughts were interrupted as Omega entered the office. Shadow gave him a small smirk, as he waited for the robot to approach him.

"Greetings Omega," Shadow said. "Anything new?"

"We have been assigned a new mission."

"Which one?"

"Commander said: Prepared for the Star festival."

Oh no ... It was that time of the year again. He enjoyed traveling, especially because he could take his bike for a long ride but the Star Festival wasn't something he was found of. Having to take care of royals wasn't his forte.

"Anything else?" He asked.

"Commander is asking for your presence as soon as possible."

Shadow found himself in the Commander's office more often than he would want to. Not that he didn't like the guy, but whenever he would speaking alone to him; things usually don't turn out the way he wants it.

His office was the epitome of professionalism, Shadow has heard stories about the amazing things he has done in the past. Ended hunger in Carthage, free slaves in Memphis, stoping an invasion in Sukhothai. And those were the only missions that were open to the public, everything else was confidential.

"You wanted to see me?" Shadow said as he walked through the automated doors. He noticed the room was extremely cold and Shadow didn't mind but it surprised him that a simple Mobian like the Commander withstands such temperatures.

"Yes, please take a seat."

"I prefer to stand."

"I insist ... Take a seat."

That didn't sound like a request, it was more like an order. Shadow didn't have an expression in his face, he knew it was one of the few times the Commander meant business.

"What is it?" Shadow asked.

"Remember that mission you took Amy Rose along with? The mission in Twinkle Star Village?" The commander asked, his hands were placed above his desk, strongly accommodating his seating position.

"Yes."

"When Sonic and Tails came back, they testified that they didn't remember anything about what happened to them." The Commander added, "This got my interest and I sent some agents to investigate the aftermath of the events."

"Get to the point, sir."

"I just received the reports of the results of the investigation ... Seems like Amy Rose is not as innocent as she seems."

Amy hated when her stomach growled. She would always eat bread for breakfast but she couldn't even afford to buy bread these days.

Her job interview went well, it was as sewer assistant and although she wasn't hired in the spot, an 'I'll call you later' was better than being rejected.

After another job interview, she found herself craving a sandwich. Maybe she could spend a little bit of money to buy a sandwich at the convenience store.

"No, Amy you can't. You need to save money to pay this month's bill of the Resistance. You can't afford to be late anymore, or they will take it away from you."

As she walked through the streets of Central City, she began to feel dizzy, her eyesight was failing her and her heartbeat increased rapidly.

"No, Chaos, not again."

She was about to lose consciousness when she felt a hand being placed on her shoulder.

It was her rabbit friend, Cream.

"Amy, are you alright?"

No, she wasn't. However, Amy wasn't going to give her the pleasure to see agree with her.

"Yes, I am fine. I haven't seen you in a while. How you been?"

Cream looked at her friend, who was obviously lying. Her eyes were tired, dark circles were prominent. She was pale and if Cream dared to say it, Amy was way too skinny for her comfort.

"Would you like to get something to eat?"

They sat outside a small cafe. Cream had asked for an ice tea, while Amy, knowing that water was free, asked for a glass of it.

Cream was doing great, and it contented Amy's heart to an extent. As far as she knew, Cream was continuing her studies in another city. However, whenever she could she visits her two-tailed boyfriend.

Their friendship wasn't the same as before. They didn't hang out as much since Cream moved out of the city.

And after the last fight, things weren't just the same. However, they were civil with each other and casual friends.

"How is Resistance doing? Are you still trying to buy it?" Cream asked, trying to break the silence.

"Yes, hopefully by the end of this year I would be halfway done." Amy added, "And you? How are you doing in college?"

"It's a hassle, I can't wait to graduate. I hate going every day to learn about math, tell me whosever going to-"

Cream stopped herself as she noticed Amy's face turn into one of discomfort. She knew Amy would have loved to go to college but due to her circumstances, she wasn't able to.

And now she sounded like an ungrateful brat.

"But it's great." Cream added quickly. "I made a lot of friends."

"Of course you have." Amy took a sip of her water. She used to love to hang out with Cream but she grew distant. Whenever Cream sees her, she would-

"Please Amy," Cream said interrupting her thoughts. "Come live with me. There's nothing here for you."

There she goes again.

"I have the Resistance," said Amy. "That's all I need."

"Yes, because the Resistance has helped provide for you." Cream added, "Look at you Amy, you look horrible. You are to the bone, how you been eating properly?"

Amy was offended, she knew Cream was right. Cream was a beautiful rabbit, she had grown well. Her long lashes, soft fur, and nice physic ... she was everything Amy used to be. On the inside and outside. Amy had stopped caring for herself, she wasn't the same. She was tired all the time, and she didn't have the time to take care of herself as she would want to.

To an extent, Amy was jealous of Cream because all Amy wanted was to re-live the past when she was happy.

"We already had this talk. If you are not going to support me in my decisions, then I don't want to hear it," said Amy.

"How do you want me to support your decisions when I see you are killing yourself over a stupid place?" Cream raised her voice, more at the frustration that she couldn't help her friend.

"That stupid place is important to me!" Amy added, "But of course I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Understand what? Amy, the Resistance is done for! Nobody cares for it and I am sure that the few agents you have are just there out of pity for you!" Cream tried to control herself, but she just couldn't. "Everyone has moved on! Why can't you?!"

"I can't and I won't move on!" Amy felt her voice crack, she wasn't ready to accept that. For her, the Resistance was her only home and she prefers to die than to give up on it.

This time Cream raised her voice, trying to get into the head of the pink one, "Why?!"

"Because it was the only place that made me happy after everyone left me!"

Amy doesn't remember crying this much since well ... after she realized everyone left her.

She cried in a public bathroom for a good hour before going back to the Resistance.

As she walked by on the streets, she could see her reflection on the shops' windows.

Chaos, she looked horrible. How could she ever think that someone like Shadow had a slight interest in her? She had given up on her appearance long ago but as she felt the stares of others on her, she began to feel embarrassed for herself.

Nobody deserved to look at her ugly face.

She finally arrived in her room, she was expecting some peace but instead, she found Shadow seating on her coach.

"What are you doing my room?" Amy asked as she closed the door behind her.

"Sleepover."

Oh yeah, she had forgotten.

"I am not really in the mood. Can we do this another time?" She said as she placed her room keys on the dining table.

"But I even bought us a TV," Shadow replied and he had to admit he had never seen Amy flip her head so fast. It was even comical.

"You did what-" Amy didn't notice but in front of her coach was a plasma TV, the biggest one she has seen in her life.

"Shadow, you can't!"

"What? Is it too small? I would have gotten a bigger one but your room is kinda small."

"It's not that! I can't afford it, please return it!" Amy walked towards Shadow who was sitting comfortably in the coach.

"You said that a sleepover is about watching movies and playing video games," Shadow added as he watched Amy place herself in front of him, still not seating down.

"That's why I bought it for us."

"Well, you are going to take it with you when you move out, right?" Amy had a softer voice now, her concern slightly disappearing.

"Does she want me out that badly?"

"No, I am getting a bigger one for my apartment." Shadow looked away, a bit of hurt in his voice. "So I thought I would just give you this one when I move out."

"No, Shadow, please just return it already."

"But the sleepover-"

"Well, if we are having a sleepover in my room then we follow my rules. We are not using the TV!"

Shadow noticed that Amy was acting differently. There was something off about her and if he didn't know better, he could tell she was crying. Her eyes were red and her eyes were puffy. Even her nose and cheeks had a light pink tone to them.

Shadow sighed defeated, "What do you have in mind then?"

Amy sat on the couch, relieved. There wasn't much to do and if she was lucky enough, Shadow would get bored and leave.

"I don't have much, only a radio," Amy said as she pointed at it. It was a very old one and it was on top of a small table counter.

"That would do." Shadow stood up from his seat and went to the old radio. Shadow recognized this type of radio very well; it was a blue Motorola 1950s model. He still remembers the first time the scientists at the ARK showed him a radio, he was freaking out completely.

"What are we going to do? Dance?" Amy asked sarcastically as he watched the black one with amusement.

"Dancing is fun ... Aren't we supposed to do fun things in a sleepover?" Shadow added as he turned on the radio, "Besides, we didn't get to do this last time."

Amy knew what he meant. They didn't get to dance at G.U.N's New Year's dance ball. She appreciated the thought but as she watched Shadow change the radio station, she found herself not wanting to do it.

Suddenly, a song caught Shadow's attention. He recognized this song very well. It was Elvis Presley's Jailhouse Rock.

Amy was freaking out. Shadow wasn't only showing interest in the song, he was tapping his right foot and snapping his fingers.

"In the ARK, Maria and I would always listen to this human's music." Shadow added, "Even today, I still listen to his music."

Shadow was full of surprises, Amy was having a bad day but she was happy that at least Shadow was enjoying himself.

"Yes, his music is good," Amy added. "Probably the best cultural exchange we had with the humans was their music."

"It was." Shadow walked towards Amy as he extended his hand at her. "Now, will you dance with me?"

"I don't um I don't know how to." Amy stumbles with her words a little, she felt her cheeks get warmer the more she looked at Shadow.

"It's rock and roll, you don't need to know how to dance," Shadow said as he grabbed her hand, making her stand.

Amy smiled, Shadow was trying his best to cheer her up. He was doing most of the job, moving her around the room, turning her and moving her place to place. She let out small laughs in between the dace. Never in her life, she would have thought Shadow was a dancer.

And a good one on the least.

Shadow smiled as he heard Amy laugh. Shadow enjoyed dancing, back in the ARK, Maria and he would practice all the time. After Maria's death, he had stopped himself from listening to 50s music. Now, here he was, laughing and smiling as he dance and created new memories with Amy.

This was the best sleepover he has ever had.

The song finished and they both stopped a little to rest. However, their rest didn't last long, the radio's static was strong but it began to subside as 'Can't Help Falling In Love' by Elvis Presley began to play.

To Shadow, it was almost like an instinct. He placed his hands on Amy's waist. He didn’t noticed before but she felt so delicate in his hands that he was scared that he might break her.

Amy placed her hands in Shadow's shoulder, feeling his strong physic. They kept their distance as they began to move at the compass of the music.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

For a moment, the sadness that resided in Amy's heart was no longer there. No one matter at the moment but she would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. She was utterly scared that her feelings for Shadow were growing to the point she couldn't stop them.

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin

But she didn't care now. She didn't care if Shadow didn't like her that way. She doesn't care if Shadow doesn't feel the same way she does for him. There was no turning back for her, but she just didn't care anymore. She loved Shadow and she loved the way he displayed his friendship at her. Even if it hurts her, she only cares that Shadow was there for her as a friend, as a companionship.

If I can't help falling in love with you

Amy closed their gap as she placed her head in Shadow's chest. Now they were dancing in a sweet embrace. She closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in Shadow's scent. She loved everything about him. And if a part of him didn't love her then,

She will love that part just as much.

Because that was Shadow ... and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Shadow never thought he would be in such a state of bliss. He didn't want to change anything about this moment. If he had one wish, it will be for him to stay with Amy. Just like this, enjoying each other's warmness as their heartbeats sync perfectly.

Take my hand, take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you

He couldn't have asked for anything more than Amy's friendship. Shadow wanted this to last forever. He didn't want to change anything, if he could stay like this forever, with her in his arms ... If there was a heaven, Shadow knew this was it for him.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Shadow got closer to Amy's ear. Softly he began to sing the song almost as if he was dedicating it to her.

Take my hand, take my whole life too

She just meant so much to him and he just couldn't imagine his life without her.

Amy found herself singing the song to him as well, meaning each word that left her mouth.

For I can't help falling in love with you

Shadow and Amy felt two different types of love for each other ... but they were equally strong.

They separated, their faces only a few centimeters apart. They looked at each other's eyes, emerald met rubies. Their space began to close as they whispered the last sentence to each other.

For I can't help falling in love with you.

A/N: Another long fic but I really enjoyed writing this. Now we are discovering Amy's side of the story and are we are going to see her struggles in more in-depth.

We are opening up for some upcoming drama as well and we are developing Shadow's emotions and character.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Until next time!

Next: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190941239700/stages-shadows-day

#Shadamy #shadamy fanfiction #shadow and amy #shadowxamy #shadamy au #shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #fan fiction #romance #amyrose #shadow x amy #shadow #shadamy

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merakiaes · 6 years ago

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Hounds and Gingers - Sandor Clegane

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Requested: Yes

Prompts: No

Warnings/notes: A tiny bit of swearing maybe.

Wordcount: 1809

Description: A short fluffy imagine for anonymous!

Sandor was sitting on top of the castle walls, back against the cold stone wall, head hung low as he sipped from the leather bottle in his hand.

He had been sitting there for a while now, having been joined by Arya Stark for a short while before Beric had scared her off.

Sandor had silently cursed him for that, against his better judgement actually having missed the stubborn little girl that he long ago had been so eager to get off his hands.

But of course Sandor hadn’t voiced those thoughts, not wanting Beric to have another reason to tease him.

They had shared the beverage in his flask for a short while, before Beric, just like Arya, had gone off to do Gods know what, leaving Sandor in his lone.

He liked being alone, that much everyone knew. He had never been one to find pleasure in socializing. But at this night, the day before the battle, Sandor couldn’t help but feel bitter that everyone but him was off sharing their last moments with friends and loved ones.

Beric had noticed this, but of course this was also something Sandor would never admit.

You had been busy preparing the bows and arrows with Theon Greyjoy the entire day, so busy you had yet to eat.

Your father had came by with food at one point, but as you had been too slow, he had ended up eating it himself, which in turn resulted in you throwing him out of the armory.

He should know by now not to fuck with you when you were stressed and hungry. But that man had always been a bit slow in the brain.

You had gotten relieved from your duties by Jon just about ten minutes ago, and you had wasted no time in going for the kitchen to pick up the food Jon had saved for you, bless his heart.

But this was all very new to you. Having been born and raised beyond the wall, this was your second time ever stepping your foot inside a castle, the first one being Castle Black.

This meant you got confused, to say the least, by all of the different hallways and paths. So it was safe to say it had taken a while to find the kitchen area, but once you did find it and got your hands on the food, you were for the first time that day able to relax.

Well, as much as you could when you would be fighting the dead the next day.

But the kitchen was boring. You were used to wide landscapes and nature wherever you turned. These stonewalls were certainly not your cup of tea. You felt trapped and restless, so instead of sitting inside while eating, you opted to take your food with you outside.

But once again, you had no idea where to go.

As you munched on a piece of bread, you took a left, and a right, and a right again, walking up a set of stairs, only to come face to face with the long path that was the castle walls.

Stepping out of the doorway, you let your eyes wander over the view, instantly feeling more comfortable at the sight of the landscape and the smell of the much fresher air.

You smiled contently and slowly started walking the wall, taking in every single detail as well as you could seeing as this was where you would be standing during the battle.

As you began to reach that side of the castle, you noticed a man slumped against the wall, one leg down and one up, elbow propped on the latter, drinking in his lonesome.

You could easily make out his features thanks to the glowing torches on the walls, and instantly recognized him as one of the men who had gone with Jon and your father beyond the Wall a while ago.

He looked friendly enough, you thought, your legs then starting to walk the rest of your body his way.

Sandor hadn’t noticed you at first, deep in thought as he stared at the floor. But he soon caught sight of your movements out of the corner of his eyes, sparing you a single glance before going back to stare at the floor, figuring you were just passing through.

But then you stopped beside him.

“Is this seat taken?” You asked him as you reached him, pointing to the ground beside him despite the fact that he was in that moment not looking at you.

Your voice was soft to his ears, but still stern and superior. Sandor looked up at that, giving you a one-over before once again turning his stare back to its previous place.

“You don’t look like you would give two shits if I said it was.” He muttered, not wanting to give away that he was actually surprised you would want to be in his company.

You couldn’t help but snort at that. “You’re not wrong.” You agreed, plopping down on the ground beside him, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you as you noticed he seemed to be a naturally tense and uncomfortable man.

“You’re the one they call the Hound, aren’t you?” You voiced, proceeding to pluck a grape from its twig, putting it into your mouth.

“Aye.” Sandor seemed unfazed as he spoke back, not moving his gaze. “I was.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, still very much focused on your grapes. “Not anymore, then?”

“Not anymore.” He grumbled.

“Why did they call you the Hound? Do you bark or something? Were you raised in a kennel, is that it?” You had never had much of a filter to your thoughts, much thanks to your father, but luckily Sandor didn’t seem to care very much.

“No, that’s not it.” He snapped. “They called me the Hound because I come from House Clegane, our sigil is three dogs, and I used to serve as prince Joffrey’s guard dog.”

“Oh...” You opened your mouth in the shape of an O, folding your legs beneath you. “So you were a lapdog, then. His bitch.” You snickered.

Sandor whipped his head around to look at you at this, starting to feel a bit annoyed by all of your uncunning questions. “I’m not anyone’s bitch. What, did you skip your lessons with the Septa? Even lowborns know the history of the houses, and you don’t look like some lowborn scum.”

You rolled your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’m a highborn.”

Sandor scoffed. “That’s real expensive leather you’re wearing, no lowborn would ever be able to afford something like that.”

You put down your plate of grapes, brushing your hands off on your pants before turning to look at him. “Do you want to know a secret, Clegane?” You asked, a mischievous grin growing on your lips as you leaned in closer. “I robbed these clothes of a dead Lord after I had put a sword through his cock.”

Sandor gave you a look. “You’re a weird bitch, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Every day of my life.” You smirked, picking up your plate again. You grabbed a chink of meat and offered it to him.

Sandor scanned your face for any sign of you trying to poison him, grabbing the piece of food when finding none.

You snickered quietly as he basically snatched it from your hand, finding the way he was trying to act tough amusing.

“So, Clegane.” You started. “You got a wife?”

He scoffed at that. Something he seemed to be doing quite often, you noticed. “Would you want to be married to this? There’s not many women out there who likes to look at fuckers with melted faces.” He answered bitterly, pointing to the scarred flesh on his face.

You shrugged, not being bothered in the slightest. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re handsome.”

He looked at you, scoffing again. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

“Well.” You started. “I am commanding the archers during the battle so I would say I’ve got to have quite a sharp eye.”

He didn’t say anything, only glanced at you as he picked at his meat.

“Don’t worry.” You said. “I’m not used getting attention from men either.”

At that he snorted. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

You just shook your head in amusement. “Not many lords like wildling girls like myself who are attracted to men with burnt faces.” You admitted, before continued. “Besides, I think you should look at it like you’ve been kissed by fire, rather than ruined by it.”

As that sentence left your lips, Sandor’s head shot up. He narrowed his eyes at you. “You don’t happen to be related to that ginger wildling? The one who’s in love with Brienne of Tarth.”

You laughed. “(Y/N) Giantsbane, nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself for the first time, holding out your hand for him to shake.

Although he didn’t take it, instead shaking his head in annoyance. “Should’ve known by the look of your hair, fucking gingers.”

Your teasing smile instantly fell, being replaced with a hard glare that would have any man shaking in their boots. “Well, then.” You snarled. “I guess my ginger ass should leave you up here to sulk alone on what might be your last night alive, then, have fun with that.”

Sandor watched as you turned to make your leave and he instantly regretted his choice of words. What was wrong with him? Here you were, a pretty girl, willing to talk to him on your last night before the battle, and he was pushing you away.

He adjusted himself on the ground, contemplating if he should let you walk away or if he should admit his defeat. Deciding for the latter, he called out. “Wait.”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice, only a few steps away from the doorway that would take you back into the castle.

Sandor’s voice was still gruff and moody, but from what you had been able to learn of him during this short conversation, you knew it must have taken a lot for him to actually call out for you.

Turning around, you saw him hold his flask out. He was quiet for a few seconds before he finally spoke. “You thirsty?"

You looked at him for a minute, before starting to walk back to him. Stopping front of him, you stared into each others’ eyes for a moment before you reached out and grabbed the flask.

"I’m a wildling.” You said, returning to your seat beside him. “I’m always thirsty.” And with that you took a long swig of whatever was inside, mentally preparing of what was to come the next day with the Hound by your side.

#game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane imagine #sandor x reader #tormund giantsbane #jon snow #theon greyjoy x reader #beric dondarrion #wildlings

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kwanisms · 6 years ago

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Noisy Neighbor - lhs

anonymous said: hiiii i love your writing so much! i genuinely enjoy every piece you’ve written so far lol idk if your requests are still open but if you have the time would you mind writing a scenario where monsta x’s wonho lives in the apartment next door and there’s always fighting and disagreements over him being loud when he has “special dates” over but it’s because there’s ignored sexual tension

⤑ genre: smut 𝕊 𝕀 ℕ ⤑ pairing: Hoseok x Reader ⤑ warning: smut galore, like clothing ripping, foul language, mention of alcohol ⤑ summary: (Y/N) loves everything about her apartment― except her neighbor, Hoseok. He’s the definition of annoying and loud neighbor. Despite being told off and (Y/N) threatening to call the police numerous times, Hoseok hosts a particularly loud party at his place, resulting in (Y/N) confronting him. Tension snaps as Hoseok finally kisses her. ⤑ word count: 6.3k

a/n: I loved writing this. This was so much fun and I love this idea so much! Thank you for requesting it! I hope you like it! ~K♡

To say you hated your apartment was a blatant lie. You loved it. The location was right, the rent was well within your budget, and you really loved having a unit on the end of the hall, giving you not only an amazing view, but turning your bedroom into mostly glass windows. It was a beautiful apartment. Light grey walls, dark hardwood floors, and new stainless steel appliances.

It was a two bedroom unit overlooking the downtown area. It had a large front room open to the kitchen and dining room. The outside wall was nearly ceiling to floor glass windows with remote controlled shades. The floors were done in a dark wood to contrast with the walls painted in a soft off white color.

Your bedroom was in the corner of the unit, providing you with two walls of windows. The master bathroom was to die for and not what you would usually find in an apartment. It had an oversized garden tub, dual sinks, a decent sized walk-in shower, and a spacious closet. Even the toilet had it's own little room.

The second bedroom was set up as a guest room with a bed, two nightstands and a dresser. It had its own bathroom and a small closet as well.

The selling factor, was the den. A small room off the living room with double doors. You had set it up as a home office.

The only thing you didn't like about your apartment was your neighbor, Hoseok. He was a very noisy person, throwing parties that lasted until 3 in the morning, inviting girls over and not bothering to keep it down when they were in his bedroom.

You heard a lot more than you bargained for. You never wanted to know what Hoseok sounded like when he came but unfortunately for you, his bed was on the other side of your living room. Luckily, you could escape to your bedroom and it would muffle the sound but it was still difficult to drown out the sound.

Truth be told, you hadn't gotten much sleep since Hoseok moved in next door, despite going over and telling him politely to keep it down. Hoseok promised he would try, yet he never made good on his promises and at this point, you were sure it was on purpose.

Last night had been like every night since Hoseok moved in.

You headed out your front door into the hallway and made sure to lock your door before making your way down the hall to the elevator. You pressed the button and waited patiently for the lift to arrive. The sound of a door opening caught your attention and you turned to see Hoseok stepping out of his apartment in his sweats, boots, and a compression shirt, carrying a trash bag.

Hoseok's eyes met yours and he immediately broke into a grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. You weren't going to play this game. Not today. Hoseok approached quietly and stood next to you as both of you waited for the elevator.

“Morning,” Hoseok said, a slight hint of amusement to his voice. You tried not to grit your teeth or clench your hands. He knew how to rile you up. Hoseok loved pressing your buttons. You were determined to not let him get to you, so you turned to him and nodded. “Morning,” you replied shortly. Hoseok's grin spread.

“Sleep well last night?” he asked and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from snapping back. “Not really,” you replied. Hoseok nodded silently before finally saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.” You held back a scoff, knowing it would mean defeat.

You opted to say nothing, instead bringing your coffee to your lips and taking a sip. Silence surrounded you and you could feel the tension between the two of you rising.

There was always this unaddressed sexual tension between you and your neighbor. If it wasn't for the fact that he kept you up until the crack of dawn fucking a different girl each night, you probably would have given into his flirting before.

Hoseok was an attractive man to say the least. He had an incredible body, everyone knew it. He worked out a lot. You saw him more at the gym in your building than you did outside his apartment. He was definitely a “gym rat.”

The two of you said nothing as you both stepped onto the elevator after it arrived. You took another sip of coffee as the silence continued for the duration of the elevator ride.

The elevator reached lobby and Hoseok stepped put first, allowing you a nice view of his broad shoulders, sculpted back, and his nearly perfect ass as he made his way to the door that led to the building's trash and recycling room. He waved as you headed for the door. “Have a nice day at work!” he called, smirking.

You narrowed your eyes but bit your tongue as you headed out onto the street and made your way to the bus stop. He was such a smug asshole sometimes. He knew he kept you up, why else would he make such remarks? You shook off your annoyance at him and pushed him from your mind; you could deal with it later.

The bus arrived on time and you got on, swiping your pass and taking a seat near the back. With living in the city and traffic as bad as it was sometimes, taking the bus was a much smarter option than driving. You didn't have to try to find a parking space with a bus, so you left your car in your parking space at home.

The ride usually took about 10 minutes and you were at work in no time, greeting the doorman as you approached the tall high rise building that took up a corner of a medical complex. You weren't a nurse or a doctor. You did clerical work in one of the suites, organizing files, running the reception counter, and all the usual duties of a receptionist.

It wasn't what you went to school for but the hours were good, the pay was great, benefits included and it allowed you to continue your online courses until you finished your master's program and moved on to your ‘big girl’ job.

You clocked in, sat down at your desk behind the counter. Stashing your things under the desk and started up your computer. Getting your station set up took little effort and once you were done, you were ready to conquer the day. The doctor you worked for had few appointments today. It was an easy day.

The office opened on time at 9 am and the first patients showed up shortly thereafter for their appointments. You checked them in, passing their information along to one of the three nurses that worked in this suite. After that, you got to sit there and play around on your computer or phone. Your boss was very relaxed.

Time ticked by as more patients for the day came in and checked in with you. The phone barely rang but when it did, you answered it with a professional air, answering questions, putting calls through for the doctor or a nurse, and scheduling appointments for the day. It was a really easy job, all things considered.

Lunch finally rolled around and the office always closed for an hour so you had plenty of time for lunch. You donned your cold weather clothes and grabbed your purse before heading out to go grab a bite to eat at the little deli down the street. They had the best sandwiches and their soups were so delicious.

You got in line and perused the menu, settling on a club sandwich and a cup of potato soup. The girl behind the counter, Melanie, was on a first name basis with you by this point since you visited so often. When you stepped up to the counter she flashed you a bright smile.

“Afternoon, Miss (Y/N). What can I get for you today?” she asked. You placed your order, asking for light mayo instead of the regular and bought a bottle of water as well. As you fished out your wallet, Melanie got a good look at you and inhaled sharply. “Are you not getting any sleep, Miss (Y/N)?” she asked. You let out a wry laugh as you handed your card to her.

“As a matter of fact, I’m not. I had hoped I put on enough concealer to cover it. Guessing I didn't?” you asked as she ran the card, grimacing at you as she did before shaking her head slightly. “No ma’am,” she said before handing you back your card. You sighed lightly and thanked her when she handed you your receipt and a little table marker.

Your food came out swiftly and after finishing it, you headed back to the office to find that the doctor had to close early. He let you go home early as there were no other appointments scheduled and he had something he had to take care of. So you caught the bus back home a whole 2 hours early.

You decided to run some errands. Your fridge and pantry were running low on supplies, you needed new shampoo and your concealer was almost out, and not to mention you needed an outfit for your company's holiday party.

So you went to your favorite beauty supply store and grabbing what you needed, then your go to store for clothes and quickly found a nice but simple outfit, and finally to the store, grabbing the essentials and stocking up before heading home. By the time you reached your building, you had eaten up most of those two hours.

As you waited patiently for the elevator to arrive, your mind wandered back to what Melanie had said. If she had noticed the dark circles through your makeup, who else had?? The realization made your blood boil. You stepped into the elevator seething.

This was all Hoseok's fault. He was keeping you up for days on end with the noise and it was showing on your face. You felt embarrassed and mortified that Melanie pointed it out. She couldn't have been the only one to notice, just the first to say anything to you.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open and you were greeted by muffled music playing. Your anger only grew as your stormed to your neighbor's door, raised your fist, and hammered on the door. It didn't take long for Hoseok to answer.

Inside, loud music with heavy bass was playing and there was background noise from some video game. Hoseok was wearing a pair of dark grey sweats, no shirt, and a wireless headset. His eyes lit up when he saw it was you at the door and a smirk settled on his face as he greeted you.

“Afternoon, miss,” he said playfully. You narrowed your eyes, letting all your anger fuel your actions. You chose your next words carefully.

“I hope you're pleased with yourself. You've managed to keep me up for so long that my concealer doesn't even do its job of covering up my exhaustion. The girl at the deli near my work pointed out how tired I am. So thanks again,” you said your voice dripping with sarcasm. Before Hoseok could answer, you turned on your heel and headed for your door.

Once back in the comfort of your apartment, you put away your groceries and decided to hop in the shower before changing into something more comfortable and settling on the couch to catch up on a few of your shows. The sound from Hoseok's apartment had ceased and you were mild surprised. It didn't last though.

Around dinner time, you made yourself something to eat before ending the night with a movie and a few glasses of wine. Around 8 pm, you heard more muffled music and muted the TV. Of course, you thought rolling your eyes and unmuting the television. You turned the volume up to drown out the sound of fast music coming from your neighbors apartment.

The television did help to mask the music for a while but soon you heard voices and laughing. Damn it. You just wanted a quiet night in. You silently cursed the day that Hoseok moved in next door. He and his friends were truly awful specimen.

After a few more minutes of trying to block the sound, you growled and got up from the couch, heading for your door and stepping out into the hallway where the music was easily 10 times louder. You pounded on the door and after a few minutes, Hoseok answered, a red solo cup in his hand. A smile grew on his face when he saw it was you at the door. “Hey, decided to join us?”

You shook your head. “Please try to keep it down, okay? I have to work in the morning.” Hoseok nodded and looked back into the apartment. “Of course. I'll have them out of my place no later than 11,” he said giving you a wink. Liar. You thanked him anyway and made your way back into your apartment.

As 9 drew closer, the music increased, as did the sounds of people shouting and laughing. As beautiful as the apartments were, the walls were extremely thin. You had half a mind to call the developers and chew them out for their shitty blueprints.

10 o'clock came and went and it was now a quarter till 11. You waited to see if Hoseok would make good on his word. As 11 approached, the music and talking dwindled down until it was silent on the other side of the wall. You were shocked. You couldn't believe it. Had he actually listened?

Your victory was cut short however by the subtle moaning coming from behind the wall and you groaned. Ugh fucking prick. You headed for your room, grabbing your trusty earplugs and shut your bedroom door, drowning out the rest of the sound. Hopefully it would stay that way and you could actually get some sleep.

The next few days, Hoseok hosted parties each night but only that one ended at 11. You felt as though he was doing it on purpose at this point. You sat awake in your bed until nearly 3 am each night, unable to sleep due to the loud music traveling into your apartment. The fourth night was when you finally had enough.

Dressed in your pajamas, a sleep shirt, shorts, and your favorite fuzzy socks with paw prints on them, you headed over to your neighbor's apartment and banged on the door. Some girl answered. Her eyes went wide as she saw you. “Can I help you?” she asked but you pushed past her into the apartment.

You searched the crowded room for Hoseok, finding him quickly sitting on his couch with a very pretty brunette perched on his lap. He was smiling as she whispered in his ear but when he saw you standing in his front room, dressed in your pajamas, his smile fell only to be replaced with a smirk as his eyes trailed over you.

“What's the matter?” he asked over the music. You glanced over to where the music was coming from. A simple laptop hooked up to several speakers. You stormed over to it and unplugged the speakers from the laptop, effectively stopping the music. The crowd whined and you slammed the laptop shut before rounding on Hoseok. He had pushed the girl off his lap and stood up.

“What are you-” he started but you help your hand up and silenced him. All eyes were on you but at this point you were so done that you couldn't care less. You were fed up. You needed your sleep and Hoseok was preventing that. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Look, I put up with a lot of shit from you, Lee Hoseok, but I'm drawing the line here.” You paused for effect before continuing. “I have asked you numerous times, rather politely I might add, to keep the sound down. A simple request, no?” you asked. Hoseok nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving your face as you spoke.

“Then why is it, i ask a simple favor of you, you can't even do that? Are you stupid? Are you deaf? Do my words just go right in one ear and out the other? Clearly that must be the case, since you have no fucking brain. Otherwise, you would be courteous and keep your shit down for once.” Hoseok opened his mouth but you shook your head.

“I'm still fucking talking, so shut up,” you snapped. Several party goers ‘oohed.’ Hoseok looked at them and they stopped at once before he turned his attention back to you. If he thought this was embarrassing, he had no idea what was coming.

“I'm sick of hearing your shitty ass music. It comes through my walls and despite having my bedroom door shut, I can still hear it,” you said, not caring how much of a dick you sounded like. Hoseok needed to know he was in the wrong.

“Same goes for your nightly escapades. I can hear literally everything. I hope they aren't faking it for your sake but I'm gonna be real with you, no girl moans like that. They're exaggerating. Sorry, but you deserve the truth.” Hoseok turned a deep shade of pink. You wanted to hit him where it hurt.

“I have asked nicely too many times and you refuse to honor my wishes so if you can't keep it down, I'm going to call the police. I'm not joking at this point. I work in the morning and I need my fucking sleep. So, this is your final warning. Get all of these assholes,” you said gesturing around the room.

“Get them out of this fucking apartment, now. And I mean everyone goes. Even that skinny little brunette who was sitting on your lap earlier. I don't want to hear one peep from this apartment, am I understood?” you looked him in the eye. His smile was gone and was replaced with a scowl. You didn't care.

He started this. It was his own fault and he brought it on himself.

However mad he may be, Hoseok didn't respond. You turned on your heel and shoved past the ring of people that had form around you and Hoseok. You heard him call out to you but you didn't care. You wanted to go to bed.

You returned to your apartment, locking the door before you headed for your bedroom. You sat in bed waiting for your anger to subside and the adrenaline to go down so you might actually get some sleep tonight. The universe had other plans.

It had only been a few minutes since you returned home that you were interrupted by the sound of knocking. You got up and made your way into the front room where the knocking turned into banging. You unlocked the door and opened it.

Hoseok was on the other side, hand clenched into a fist raised above his head, ready to hit the door again. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of you and lowered his hand.

“What do you-” you began but he interrupted you.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” he snapped towering over you. His sudden crassness threw you off guard and you struggled to find an answer. Whether or not Hoseok was expecting an answer, he didn't give you time to talk.

“How dare you come into my home and embarrass me in front of my friends. That was low, even for you,” he continued. You suddenly found it in you to speak.

“Excuse you,” you started. “I believe I had asked you numerous times since you moved in to keep the damn noise down. You can't even follow a simple request, so clearly you must not be that smart.” Hoseok opened his mouth but you beat him to it.

“I haven't slept right in weeks. I'm tired, I'm cranky, I'm angry. I just want to fucking sleep for once. I never wanted to be that neighbor who calls the cops but clearly me asking isn't enough incentive so calling them was the next step.”

Hoseok still said nothing so you went on.

“I'm so unbelievably tired. The the music lasting until dawn and the loud sounds of your nightly escapades, it's too much goddamn it.” Your voice cracked as you threw your hands up.

Hoseok pushed his way into your apartment, shutting the door behind him. You backed up, your eyes widening. “What are you doing?” you asked as he advanced on you. You backed into the sofa and were now effectively trapped between him and your couch, Hoseok's eyes never leaving your face.

The two of you were silent, eyeing each other for what felt like eternity. The unaddressed sexual tension you always felt in his presence grew, filling the space around you, almost suffocating you. Finally, you managed to speak.

“What are you waiting for?”

As if waiting for a silent command, Hoseok moved. His hand cupped the back of your neck, the other steadying himself on the back of the couch as he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing against your own. Your hands instinctively grabbed his shirt, pulling him in closer.

Hoseok parted his lips, his tongue darting out allowing the tip to brush against your bottom lip and you answered by letting him in. Your stomach did flips and your heart raced. Blood pounded in your ears as you felt Hoseok's free hand grip your waist.

The two of you parted after a few moments to catch your breath, lips swollen from the heated kiss. Hoseok watched you closely, gauging your reaction. Your eyes were wide, searching his own.

A small smile made itself known on Hoseok's face before he opened his mouth and said in a breathless voice, “finally.”

He picked you up, using the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, hands holding on to his shoulders as he set you on the back of the couch. He pressed light kisses along your jaw, stopping to nip on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Do you want this?” you asked in a stained voice. Hoseok chuckled, his breath tickling your skin. “Do you want this?” he repeated your question, pressing his obviously erection into your clothed core. You gasped at the feeling before letting out a shameless, “please, just fuck me already.”

Hoseok let out a laugh before setting you down. He reached up, caressing your cheek as his free hand roamed, sliding into the waistband of your pants. His fingers skimmed past your panties as he delved deeper, his fingertips found the wetness pooling in your underwear. Hoseok chuckled as he pushed a finger past your folds, easily finding your clit. A moan escaped your lips.

Hoseok slowly circled the bundle of nerves, watching your face as he did. He was fascinated by the way your brows knitted together, your eyes shut as he teased you in long drawn out movements.

“Stop teasing me,” you whined grabbing his forearm and pushing his hand deeper in your panties. Hoseok let out another laugh before slipping a finger inside you. Another gasp left you. Hoseok used his free hand to grab your waistband and pulled down your pants, letting them pool around your ankles before you kicked them off.

Hoseok took the opportunity to eye the thin lace material of your panties, sneaking you a devilish grin before he brushed his finger over the cloth. “These are cute,” he mused before looking up and catching your gaze. “Did you wear these for me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he continued, slowly pumping his hand, adding a second finger. You gripped the sofa below you, trying to ground yourself.

As he sped up, Hoseok watched you. The way you threw your head back, the small gasps and whines that left your lips were like music to him. He pulled his hand free and brought his fingers to your lips. You took them in your mouth without hesitation.

Hoseok took your hand and pulled you off the couch before leading you around and pushing you on the cushions. “What are you-” you started as Hoseok pushed the coffee table back before settling himself between your legs. He rested your thighs over his shoulders, hooked a thumb under your panties, pulling them to the side before starting an assault on your heat with his tongue.

The wet muscle made contact with your clit and you let out a low moan. Hoseok continued, teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue, alternating between light flicks and long licks. You involuntarily squeezed your thighs causing Hoseok to push them apart, giving him more access.

When his lips wrapped around your clit, you were done for. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as his tongue danced against your heat, bringing you closer to your release. You tried to keep still but you couldn't keep your hips from moving slightly. Hoseok noticed this and pulled back.

“Be a good girl and don't move,” he said before resuming. It took all your willpower to not move. Your body tensed under his touch and you wanted so much to find release. “Please,” you panted. Hoseok hummed, the vibrations against you making you cry out.

“Please, I want to come,” you whispered. Hoseok hummed again, pulling back. “How bad do you want to come, baby girl? Tell me,” he said, his fingers slowly circling your slit. “So bad,” you whimpered. Hoseok teased your entrance, dipping his fingers in slightly only to pull them back out. He was really enjoying the way he teased you to the brink of release, only to pull back again.

“Tell me how bad you want to come,” he said, the smirk on his face present in his voice. “Please Hoseok,” you whimpered. “Make me come. Make me come and I'm all yours.” Hoseok hummed in response, his fingers sliding into your walls. His tongue flattened against your clit before he sped up.

Your walls tightened as your orgasm approached. “Ah~! shit,” you moaned. “I'm so close.”

Before your climax washed over you, Hoseok stopped and withdrew. You whined in response. “What the hell, Hoseok,” you hissed looking up. He had removed his shirt and was unbuttoning his pants.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said reaching down to remove your panties. Whatever you had been expecting, it wasn’t this as he flexed and ripped your panties with ease. Your jaw dropped as he held up the mangled remains of your underwear, shrugged, giving you a sheepish smile before he threw them to the side with a nonchalant, ‘oops.”

“Lee Hoseok!!” you managed to squeak as he leaned in, hovering over you, his lips brushing against your neck. “I hope those weren’t expensive,” he breathed in your ear. You wanted to hit him. Those panties were in fact very expensive and came as a set with the bralette you were wearing under your sleep shirt. “As a matter of fact,” you said, your voice shaking as Hoseok tormented you with light kisses and nips along your neck. “They were part of a very expensive set,” you finished.

Hoseok let out a breathy chuckle before murmuring, “well, I guess I just have to give the other piece the same treatment,” he said as his hand slipped under your shirt. His fingertips danced their way up your torso before finding the same lace material of your bralette. “Let’s get this off,” he said taking the hem of your shirt in his hands and pulling it up over your head.

His eyes skimmed over every inch of your body, admiring it. “God,” he said in a growl as he leaned in, pressing small, wet kisses over the newly exposed skin. “I can’t believe this is what I’ve been missing out on,” he said trailing back up to meet your lips. His fingers slipped under your bralette, his hand cupping your breast. You moaned, arching your back into his touch. “Fucking hell, you sound so hot.”

You whined as he removed his hand before he repeated the same brash actions and ripped the lace of your bralette open, freeing your chest before discarding the destroyed garment. His lips were on your chest in a matter of seconds, his tongue slipping out to drag over the sensitive skin around your nipple. “Hoseok,” you breathed and he pulled back, eyes finding yours.

“What is it?” he asked. “Please,” you whispered. A smile spread over his face. “Please what?” he replied, cocking his head to the side again, playfully. “I need you,” you answered. “Need me where?” Hoseok replied flirtatiously. “Inside me, jesus fucking christ, Hoseok. Put your cock inside me,” you snapped and Hoseok let out a loud laugh before he stood up straight.

“As you wish,” he said as he finished unzipping his pants and let them fall to the floor, leaving him in his boxer briefs, exposing the toned muscles in his thighs. “Where do you keep the condoms?” he asked. You pointed to the bathroom. “In the top drawer on the left,” you said hastily. Hoseok disappeared and reappeared with the small foil packet.

“If I wasn’t so eager to fuck you, I’d make you choke on my dick but another time,” he said as he lifted the foil to his mouth to tear it open. Before he could, you sat up and pulled down his boxers, allowing his member to spring free. You wasted no time, ignoring his questions, as you wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft and took him in your mouth.

Hoseok let out a strangled moan as you moved, working the tip with your tongue and the base with your hand. His hand tangled in your hair as you took him deeper in your mouth. “Holy shit,” he hissed. You pulled back and looked up at him. His hand left your hair, moving to caress your cheek.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know?” he said softly. A light pink flushed your cheeks as you felt completely exposed. “I’m going to enjoy wrecking you,” he said before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.

“Turn around,” he ordered and you scrambled to do so, resting your forearms on the back of the sofa. You felt Hoseok’s hand run gently over your backside before you felt a quick smack to your bottom. A stinging ran over your skin and you inhaled sharply. “You like that?” Hoseok asked in a low voice, rubbing his hand over the spot he just hit before repeating the action a little harder.

A small whimper left your lips. “You really do like that, huh?” You cried out when his hand made contact with your ass again. “Goddamn,” he said as you whined, shaking your ass slightly, enticing him to fill.

“You really want this cock that bad?” he asked, brushing the tip of his length against your entrance. You moaned in response. “You have to say it,” he said, his free hand on your hip. You tried pushing back on him, eager for him to fill you. “No,” he said backing away. “You have to say that you want me,” he said. You peered over your shoulder at him.

He was watching you, waiting patiently. You almost moaned at the sight of his hand wrapped around his dick, slowly stroking himself. You were normally very stubborn but you just wanted to get off at this point. “I want your cock,” you said softly. Hoseok brought his free hand up to his ear.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” You groaned. “Goddamnit, Hoseok,” you hissed. “I want your fucking cock inside me right now!” Hoseok’s smirk spread and he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Say it again,” he said pushing ever so slightly, barely entering. You looked back at him as he waited for you to say the words he wanted to hear.

“I want you to bury your dick in my pussy and fuck me until I can’t walk,” you breathed.

Without any further encouragement, Hoseok pushed himself inside you slowly. The stretch felt amazing as it had been sometime since you were filled like this. Hoseok didn’t stop until he bottomed out, his length buried deep in your walls. You waited a moment as you adjusted before you nodded and breathlessly stated, “I’m ready.”

Hoseok pulled out a few inches before pushing back in slowly. You dropped your head to rest it on your arms. “God,” you moaned as he picked up the pace, driving into your wet heat. You could hear his erratic breathing as he thrust into you faster. “Fuck,” he said, gripping your hips as he pounded into you, hitting a spot deep inside. “You feel fucking fantastic.”

A moan left your lips in response, egging Hoseok on. You felt one of his hands slide up your back until it reached the base of your neck. His fingers intertwined in your hair before he pulled, jerking your head back. “Don’t keep it in,” he said as he fucked into you harder, a slew of curses leaving your mouth, mixed with high pitched moans. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Your walls tightened around him as your climax approached. You didn’t want this to end. You wanted him to fuck you forever. “Ah~! Please,” you said in a whine. “Harder.” Hoseok tugged your hair again. “What? Harder?” he asked. You tried to nod but with his hand in your hair it was impossible so you moaned out a, “yes. Please fuck me harder.” Hoseok obliged, his hips hitting your ass and filling the room with the sound of skin against skin.

Your knees were starting to feel the effects of his thrusts and your legs started to shake. “Shit,” Hoseok said his hand leaving your hair and moving back to your hip as he gripped you harder. “Right there,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.” Hoseok chuckled, the sound ending in a moan.

“I’m close,” he said leaning over your back, his lips pressed against your shoulder.

This new angle let him hit you in all the right places, his cock brushing against your sweet spot. “Are you close?” he whispered in your ear. You shook your head. “Not yet,” you said. Hoseok reached around, his fingers finding your clit and massaging quickly. You cried out, clenching around him. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as Hoseok hammered into you, surely leaving bruises where his hips made contact with your backside.

“That’s it, (Y/N),” he said as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing his cock just right. “Come for me. Come on my cock like a good girl.” His words sent heat straight to your core as it tightened, threatening to spring loose at any moment and wash over you. “I’m gonna-” you said before letting out a cry as Hoseok sank his teeth into your shoulder.

Your orgasm hit you hard, heat exploding inside sending warmth rushing throughout your body. Your grip on the couch hardened, your knuckles turning white as your toes curled in bliss. Pure, raw pleasure coursed through your veins as Hoseok continued to thrust, chasing his own release as he helped you ride out yours. With a deep, guttural moan, Hoseok came inside the condom. His hips slowed until they faltered and he stayed motionless, waiting for his breath and sanity to return.

Finally, he pulled out of you and sat on the couch next to you, pulling off the condom and tying the end. He turned to look at you, a fucked out expression on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing you hadn’t moved. You nodded slowly as your breathing returned to normal. “I can’t move my legs just yet,” you admitted with a sheepish grin. Hoseok smirked up at you.

“Well, you did ask me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk,” he said smugly. You swatted at him lazily and he laughed standing up and reached down, lifting you gently off the sofa. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you to the shower,” he said as he made his way to the bathroom. “I don’t think I can stand either,” you said as he flipped the light on.

“A bath it is,” he said setting you on the toilet as he started running a bath. Once it was drawn up, Hoseok lifted you from the toilet and dipped you in the water before getting in himself, settling behind your back. The two of you were silent for a moment before he finally spoke.

“So,” he said as he trailed his fingers over your skin. “Do you still think they were faking it?” he asked in your ear. You softly elbowed him. “No. I don’t,” you admitted. Hoseok smiled against your shoulder. “But one more thing,” you said turning your head to look at him. He smiled at you. “What?” he asked.

“Don’t talk about other girls anymore. You don’t need them anymore,” you said before turning your head to look away. Hoseok pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Fair enough,” he replied. “I just need you.” The two of you sat in the hot water, a comfortable silence filled the air before you sat up and turned to face him. “I’m still not letting you off the hook. If you don’t keep the sound down, I’m not fucking you ever again.” Hoseok grimaced and nodded. “Deal.”

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