#and these scenes are so bad to work with. terrible lighting. terrible coloring.

[fear0phobia]

favorite morgan/garcia banter 3/?

[witchywithwhiskey]

safe harbor

pairing: dr. jack abbot x day shift resident!female reader

summary: you've been pining for the night shift attending dr. jack abbot ever since you started at the hospital, and when you wake up in his bed—alone—after having too many drinks in the park after a particularly bad shift, you finally do something about it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, come marking, hand job, pussy job, dry humping/thigh riding, big dick/tough fit, tit play/nipple sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, pet names (angel), begging, teasing, aftercare, cuddling and snuggling, drinking and drunkenness (nothing happens while reader is drunk), mutual pining. this fic is inspired by the scene of the doctors and nurses drinking in the park after work in the pitt season 1 finale, but it could take place after any rough shift.

word count: 8.3k

a/n: here's my entry for the a doctor a day writing challenge!! thank you to @letsgobarbs, @ananonymousaffair and @clubsoft for hosting this event!! my prompt was "You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss." and my color was orange—and i'm really happy with how this turned out!! technically this is my first proper jack abbot fic (though i'm sure it won't be the last), so i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡♡

The soft orange light of a spring sunrise filtered into the room behind your eyelids, and for one hazy, wonderful moment, you drifted in the contentment that only comes from the liminal space between sleeping and waking. You were ensconced in warm blankets and the smell of earth and sunshine, and you wanted to live in that moment as long as possible.

Then, an almost gentle throbbing began behind your temple, a headache blooming to life as you slipped further into waking. Unbidden, memories from the night before flooded into your mind and you had to bite back a pained groan.

You’d had far too much to drink after work. Or, rather, you’d had too many beers for how exhausted you’d been after your particularly long and terrible shift. But you’d been riding high on surviving the day from hell, and it had been a pleasantly warm evening. And Dr. Jack Abbot had been there.

It had felt like some kind of small miracle—to get to share a couple drinks with the med students, doctors and nurses in the park across the street from the hospital. You hadn’t been the only one laughing too loudly, as if grasping onto the relief of making it through the day, because the alternative was sinking into the darkness.

You’d known that if you’d gone home and dragged yourself into your cold, lifeless apartment that you never had time or energy to decorate, you’d have ended up crying yourself to sleep. Instead, you’d accepted the invitation from your attending, Dr. Michael Robinavitch—Dr. Robby—and joined the others for a drink.

The amber glow of the lamplights lining the paths of the park had been welcoming beacons, and you’d felt the weight of the world slowly slip from your shoulders as you accepted a can of beer, letting the conversation flow around you. As everyone talked, sharing stories from the day, things hadn’t seemed so bleak. 

So you’d lingered in the park long after you should’ve gone home, drinking far more than you should’ve considering how exhausted you were, and letting your eyes drift to Dr. Jack Abbot far more often than they should’ve. You couldn’t help it, though. You’d been drawn to the night shift attending ever since you met him at the start of your first day shift. 

You were Dr. Robby’s resident, and he was a capable mentor—firm when he needed to be, and kind when you needed it. You’d gained a lot working with Dr. Robby on the day shift, and you’d become a much better doctor learning from him and everyone else in the ER.

Yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Dr. Jack Abbot. You’d always admired the older, silver-haired doctor, the way he carried himself, coming in as your shift was ending and taking over easily. You always knew your patients were in good hands when you gave them over to Dr. Abbot. 

He was so competent and capable, and always so calm, even on the busiest nights in the ER. He was like a rock in the middle of a raging, tumultuous storm. Strong and steady. Safe. 

And you wanted to climb Dr. Jack Abbot like a tree, to live in his strong and steady embrace, to allow his presence to keep you safe and sane. You wanted him to be your safe harbor—and to be his, too. You wanted to be the person he’d come home to and slip into bed with, and trust to keep him safe and sane. 

In the park, under the amber lamplights, your thoughts had drifted to the idea of sliding into bed with Dr. Jack Abbot, curling your body around his beneath warm blankets, and sleeping the entire day away as you lay entwined together. You imagined waking up together, warm skin and gentle hands, soft kisses giving way to something more…

You hadn’t realized you were staring until light brown eyes caught yours and you’d startled back into the moment, heat rising up your neck and blooming in your cheeks. You’d known you should look away, but you hadn’t been able to, not with the electric tension thrumming between the two of you like a livewire.

Dr. Jack Abbot was as calm as ever, holding your gaze for a long moment. 

His eyes were dark and inscrutable in the dim light of the park, but you noticed a glint in his gaze that made the breath catch in your throat. There was something in his eyes, something like wanting, which had your heart beating harder against your sternum and warmth pulsing between your thighs. 

Then he’d tipped his can of beer toward you and dipped his head, giving you a nod while a smirk flickered at the edges of his mouth. Something in you had fluttered, low in your belly, and you’d wanted to squirm. You’d wanted to throw yourself at him, hold his face in your hands and kiss him until you were both panting and needy.

Instead you’d looked away and taken a sip of your beer, wondering if you’d imagined the warmth and hunger hidden deep in his gaze. You’d told yourself it must’ve been a trick of the dark amber light, the result of too much exhaustion, too much beer, and too many dirty thoughts about Dr. Jack Abbot.

The night had gone on, time unspooling slowly and leisurely the way it never did in the ER, and you’d drifted along on the current of conversation ebbing and flowing around you. 

You’d tried not to look back at Dr. Abbot too often, but couldn’t help yourself. More often than not, though, you found him already looking at you, that ghost of a smile on his face and that look in his eye that had you questioning your sanity.

At some point, you’d ended up on a bench between Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot, listening as the men commended the work you’d done in the ER that evening. Their words of praise had flitted in one ear and out the other, even as you nodded along like you were paying close attention. 

The smile on your face had everything to do with their praise, and nothing to do with Dr. Abbot’s warmth seeping into your side—at least, that’s what you’d told yourself.

Your memories got hazier from there. You remembered your cheek falling against Dr. Abbot’s shoulder, and staying there as your eyes slid closed; deft fingers gently prying the half-empty can from your hands; the smell of beer and something earthy, like moss; the deep rumbling of Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot’s voices as they talked over your head.

You hadn’t blacked out—you hadn’t had that much to drink—but the rest of the evening was too hazy to make out in your mind. You’d been so tired from working a 15-hour shift, and the alchohol had only exacerbated your exhaustion, leaving you to fall asleep on Dr. Abbot’s shoulder. 

You remembered breathing in the smell of him, an earthy scent that reminded you of hiking in the woods on a bright, sunny day. It was the same scent you were surrounded by in the morning light, your eyes still stubbornly closed as a headache throbbed behind your temple. 

Rolling over and pressing your face into your pillow, you took a deep breath. The fabric smelled so much like Dr. Jack Abbot that it made your head spin with confusion. 

Even as your mind reeled, your body responded to the scent of him, the memory of his caramel brown eyes. You could perfectly picture the way his freckled arms flexed when he crossed them, his t-shirt sleeves hugging his biceps lovingly—the way you wanted to.

Heat cascaded gently down from the crown of your head, coasting down your spine and pooling between your thighs. Even with the slight edge of a hangover at the periphery of your mind, you couldn’t help the way your body yearned for the ER’s night shift attending, wanting him so badly it ached.

Your heart and your body wanted Dr. Jack Abbot. You wanted the older doctor who could be your rock, your light in the darkness, your safe harbor. And neither your heart nor your body would settle for anything less.

Your fingers were just beginning to slip down your stomach, trailing toward the needy, throbbing place between your thighs, when the soft click of a door opening sounded beyond the bed. Your eyes flew open for the first time that morning and, for one disorienting moment, you had no idea where you were.

The orange light of dawn was familiar enough, but the bedsheets and pillows looked nothing like your own. Flipping onto your back and sitting up quickly, you ignored the annoying pang of your headache to peer toward the door.

A sigh of relief gusted from your lips when you found Dr. Jack Abbot framed in the doorway, his brow creased with concern as he raked his eyes over you, as if checking for injury or illness. 

You took the moment to look around the room, taking in the comfortable, masculine decor. Warm wooden furniture occupied the space, with plants positioned around the room in places that you were sure got the most light. A thriving monstera sat in a pot beside the dresser, a goldfish in a glass bowl on top of the wooden ledge.

On the floor next to the open door, there was a camouflage backpack, the only thing that appeared to be out of place. You recognized that backpack as the one Dr. Abbot always wore on his way into work.

Suddenly, your sleep hazy brain caught up and you realized you were in Dr. Abbot’s apartment—you were in his bedroom. In his bed. 

The soft sheets of Dr. Abbot’s bed slid against your bare legs as you brought them up to your chest, his warm, orange duvet draped around your waist. It was the same color as the sunrise that lay beyond the windows, which were half covered in blackout curtains, like he wasn’t sure which way you’d prefer them. 

It was all—all of it—almost too much for your mind to process. The headache behind your temples pounded a little harder as your body caught up to your sudden change of position, and you winced.

The expression of pain on your face seemed to spur Dr. Abbot into moving.

“You’re up,” he said, his voice low and soft like he was trying not to startle you. He padded to the bedside table beside you and set down a glass of water. “Do you remember how you got here?” he asked in that same tone, which you recognized as the one he used as patients. 

You frowned as you watched Dr. Abbot open a bottle of aspirin and shake two pills into his hand. You tried to think of an answer that didn’t make you seem like a silly lightweight of a resident as you plucked the medecine from his palm when he held it out to you. 

A shiver raced down your spine when your fingertips brushed Dr. Abbot’s warm, calloused skin, delightful tingles dancing along your nerves. You attempted to hide your reaction in a shake of your head, answering his question silently. But you couldn’t hide the way your shoulders trembled, so you busied yourself with taking the pills. 

Thankfully, your hand was steady as you reached for the glass on the bedside table and swallowed the aspirin with a gulp of water. The cool water felt like salvation to your parched throat, and you ended up drinking the whole glass before you could even think to stop yourself. 

When you were done, your found Dr. Abbot watching you, a hint of a pleased smile in the twist of his lips and pride in the glint of his gaze. You had the wild thought that if he looked at all his patients that way, you understood why his satisfaction scores were so high. 

He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the movement feeling more deliberate than before. You were grateful when he turned away to set the glass down, because your shoulders trembled with another shiver at the electricity in his light touch.

“You fell asleep in the park,” Dr. Abbot explained in a voice that was endlessly patient and calm as he set the glass down. You noticed your phone beside it on the bedside table, plugged in and charging. “You were so exhausted, we couldn’t send you home on your own. My place was closest.”

Dr. Abbot straightened as he gave his explanation, arms crossing over his chest and staring down at you in a way that made you squirm. He didn’t look disappointed or disapproving, just concerned. And the knowledge that he cared enough to be concerned sent your heart pitter-pattering inside your ribcage.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dr. Abbot,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to your fingers, which were twisting in the blanket on your lap. “Yesterday was…difficult.” 

“Jack, please,” he said, his voice almost imperceptibly softer. 

Your eyes flicked up to him, looking at the silver-haired doctor from under your lashes. His smile was wry and your belly gave a happy little swoop—and that was before you heard his next words.

“You’re in my bed, you don’t need to be so formal.”

It was clear that he meant his words as a teasing kind of joke, but they only succeeded in reminding you that you’d woken up in his bed. Alone. Lamentably alone. The warmth between your thighs stoked higher, until his words fully penetrated your mind.

Your gaze drifted to the other side of the bed, which was still made with military precision. It was clear he hadn’t slept there, and you realized that meant he must’ve slept somewhere else…

“Oh god, I’m so sorry for kicking you out of your bed,” you rushed to say, looking back to Jack with wide eyes. “Where did you sleep?”

“I got a couple hours on the couch,” he answered, a little bashfully. He seemed eager to move on from the subject as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You should get some more rest,” he said, unfurling his arms from his chest and reaching for your empty water glass. “Your scrubs are in the wash with mine, they should be done in a bit.”

A memory from the night before surfaced in your mind: Jack standing with his back to you as you swayed on your feet and stripped out of your scrubs—leaving you in only a tank top, bra and panties. 

You’d removed your bra and left everything in a heap on the floor before dragging yourself under the covers of his bed, snuggling deep into their warmth and his comforting scent. You were asleep before you’d even heard Jack turn around.

Not only had Dr. Jack Abbot taken you to his home so you would be safe, given up his bed so you’d have somewhere comfortable to sleep, but he was washing your scrubs for you. 

There was something about the domesticity of it that pricked at your heart. You could so easily imagine throwing your dirty scrubs into the laundry with a load of Jack’s, washing them together, working side by side to put them away in the room you shared. 

You yearned for the life you pictured—and you wanted it with Dr. Jack Abbot. 

Before you could think about what you were doing, your hand darted out. Your fingers wrapped around Jack’s wrist as he reached for the water glass on the bedside table. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, strong and steady, if a little fast.

“Stay with me.” You hated how small you sounded, the desperate pleading in your voice, but your fingers wouldn’t let go. Instead, you squeezed his wrist tighter. “Please, Jack.”

For a long moment, long enough that you began to think he’d deny you, Jack just stood there. Half hunched over, his hand reaching past you, he stood and looked at you. His eyes stared deep into yours, his brows pulled together over his light brown gaze.

“Are you sure?” 

The question was rough and raspy, like he’d dredged the words up from the very depths of his soul. His eyes were bright and intense as he stared at you, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

The sound of his voice and the weight of his stare sent your heart fluttering, and your thighs squirmed beneath the blankets of his bed. But you weren’t uncomfortable, only eager. You were excited that he hadn’t brushed you off and denied you outright.

“I’m sure,” you said, nodding your head for good measure as you began sliding toward the center of the bed, tugging on Jack’s wrist. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Jack stared into your eyes for a beat longer, then nodded his head. He flipped his hand around in your fingers and squeezed your wrist before pulling away and giving you his back.

You watched the muscles shift and move beneath the white t-shirt Jack wore across his broad shoulders while his hands undid the button and fly of his dark cargo pants. Before your mind could wrap around what he was doing, he was pushing them down, revealing so much more of his pale, freckled skin below the edge of his navy boxer briefs.

Jack shucked off his pants and sat down on the corner of the bed, removing his prosthetic and massaging his leg for a moment while you watched unabashedly, unable to resist the opportunity to look your fill of the doctor you’d thought about for ages. 

You wanted to press yourself against his broad back and wrap your arms around him, clinging to his warmth and burying your face between his shoulder blades. You wanted to hold him and take comfort in him, you wanted to be connected to him.

Looking over his shoulder and breaking you from your thoughts, Jack caught your eye and you could see the question in his gaze. His quirked eyebrows were asking again if you were certain you wanted him to join you.

A smile curled the corners of your mouth and instead of answering him with words, you flipped down the corner of the blankets in a clear invitation. He held your gaze for another moment, but when you remained steady and smiling, he pushed himself up and slipped between the sheets.

Immediately, you felt his warmth and you let out a happy little sound while he settled on his back against the pillows—the same ones you’d pressed your face into after you’d woken up. You waited until he’d gotten comfortable, his gaze finding yours.

His light brown eyes, looking like warm caramel in the soft, tangerine light of morning, were a wondrous sight. It was a miracle, the way he looked at you in that moment, letting you see the hesitant hope in his eyes. 

Slowly, as if seeking permission with every tiny movement, you slid closer to him. With a small, flickering smile, he lifted his arm, making space for you, and you slipped into it delightedly, making another happy sound. 

Your cheek lay pillowed on Jack’s chest, the soft curves of your body pressing into his side. Without questioning the impulse, you slid your leg over Jack’s, hooking it around his thigh and shifting even closer, until you were practically plastered to his body. 

Contentment settled heavily around your shoulders, and you took a deep breath, letting Jack’s earthy, sunshiny scent fill your senses and comfort you. As you exhaled, your body softened and you snuggled deeper into the older doctor’s chest.

Jack’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers settling on the bare skin of your arm, and you made another delighted noise. His fingertips trailed lazily up and down your arm, like he was learning the softness of your skin, and he made a rumble in his chest that sounded content.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice even deeper and raspier than you’d ever heard it.

The tenor of Jack’s voice sent little sparks of desire dancing down your spine to settle between your thighs. He wasn’t using the voice he used on his patients anymore, and you couldn’t be happier that you were seeing a new side to him, one you suspected few ever got to see.

“Mhm, sooo comfortable,” you mumbled, hiding an elated grin in his chest. 

It was true, you’d never been more comfortable, but you couldn’t seem to ignore the restless need in your body. You squirmed a little against Jack’s side, like you were trying to find an even better position, and all the while enjoying the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs.

A soft, bitten-off whine squeezed from your throat and you shifted even closer to the older doctor, needing more of him pressed against more of you. 

“Jack,” you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his cotton t-shirt while your hips writhed against his side, your body searching for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

“You need something, angel?” Jack asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. When you lifted your head to pout at him, his eyes were hooded, and his mouth was curved into a knowing smirk. “You need some help before you can settle down and sleep?”

The hint of patronizing teasing in his tone was like a drug, making your mind go hazy and soft while your body melted in his strong arms. Your lashes fluttered as you fought to keep your eyes open, biting your lip while heat flooded your cheeks.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded in answer to Jack’s question. 

Jack’s eyes dipped to your mouth, the warmth in your face cascading down your body until it settled heavily between your thighs. You could feel yourself growing damp, your nipples hardening and pressing against the thin fabric of your tank top. 

But all you could do was stare at Jack’s mouth, framed by grizzled cheeks and freckled skin. How many times had you thought about kissing that mouth? Too many times to count. And you could hardly breathe when it seemed you might finally get to make your dreams come true.

Slowly—oh, so slowly, Jack’s hand came up and cupped your jaw, his head rising from the pillows as you leaned into him at the same time. Your mouths were drawing infinitesimally closer and closer like there was some kind of magnetic pull between them. 

He tilted your face until your mouths were aligned, and then your lips brushed his. Sparks zinged through your body and you sucked in a sharp breath at just that little touch, your exhale slipping from your lips in a keening, desperate sound. 

Whatever was left of Jack’s self-control seemed to snap, and he crushed his mouth to yours, as if intent on drinking down that needy sound while a hungry groan rumbled in his chest. Another whimper was silenced by his mouth, and you pressed even closer, like you wanted to crawl inside his heart. 

Your first kiss with Dr. Jack Abbot was hungry and greedy, with an edge of mutual adoration that made you light-headed. 

Jack’s hands on your body were strong and steady, but for the slight tremor in his fingers, his mouth careful and hot as he explored yours. When his tongue licked into your heat, dragging a moan from you, he huffed a pleased sound, angling your face so he could kiss you deeper, more thoroughly. 

Your hips rocked against the older doctor’s thigh as you tried to squirm closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and clinging to him while you whimpered into his mouth. Jack responded by trailing his hands down your back, curving around your ribs and dragging your body more on top of him.

“Oh god, Jack,” you panted, gasping for air while his mouth trailed kisses down the line of your neck. You tipped your head to the side, giving him more access as your wanton moans filled the room. “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

The confession spilling from your lips had Jack slowing, and even though you were practically on top of him, he eased back into the pillows so he could catch your eye. The light in the room was shifting from a honey orange to a golden yellow, but Jack’s eyes were still bright and warm like caramel as he stared into yours as he spoke.

“You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss.”

The depth of emotion in his words, the evidence that he felt the same way you did, brought unexpected tears to your eyes and you cupped his face. His silvery stubble was rough against your palms as you surged forward, capturing his mouth in a rapturous kiss.

“You’re mine, too,” you mumbled against his mouth before pulling away to look at him so he could see the honesty in your gaze. “You’re my calm, my safe harbor, my happiness and heart.”

“Angel.” 

The endearment was rough and ragged, an undercurrent of pleading in Jack’s tone as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in. He kissed you harder, stealing the words freely given from your lips and locking them away in his heart—just like you’d done with his.

Emotion swirled in your chest and you nearly sobbed with need at the wet slide of Jack’s tongue between your lips, your mind going hazy as an aching need pulsed between your thighs. A desperate whine built in your throat, your hips squirming clumsily against his thigh. 

Jack’s hands trailed down your spine, deviating from their path to slide beneath your tank top and curl around your ribs, his thumbs brushing the soft mounds of your tits. You huffed a needy whimper, feeling him smirk against your mouth, before his hands slid lower, his strong grip guiding your body to writhe against his thick thigh.

Your hips rocked in time with his guided movements, grinding your core against him while you whimpered into his mouth. You were so far gone in a pleasant haze of your desire, that you didn’t pay attention to what you were saying when you whined, “Daddy, please.”

There was the briefest stutter in Jack’s movements, and then his hands gripped you tighter, his thigh pressing deeper between your legs. Against your lips, his mouth curved into an indulgent smirk. 

“Please what, angel? Tell daddy what you need.” 

The patronizing teasing tone had slipped back into his voice, and it made your core throb between your thighs, a whimper escaping your lips before you could bite it back. It had been a slip of the tongue that you’d called him daddy, but to hear it echoed in his deep, raspy voice was another thing entirely. It was exactly what you needed.

Your fingers gripped his shirt tighter, your body squirming harder in his hands, rolling your hips and grinding against his thigh while you finally responded to his command.

“Need you,” you huffed, as if the answer was obvious. 

A gruff chuckle rumbled in Jack’s chest and his hand slid up your back, thumb skimming the curve of your breast so teasingly, your body chased his touch. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits against his chest, but Jack’s hand kept moving. His calloused palm followed the line of your arm until his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist. 

Gently, he moved your hand down his front, over his soft belly, until your palm settled against the twitching bulge in his boxer briefs. He felt so thick and heavy already, even though he wasn’t fully hard yet.

“This is what you do to me, angel,” he rasped, breath ghosting over your cheek, his mouth moving against the corner of your lips. “You have me—any time, any way you want.” 

Your fingers wrapped around his girth through the soft cotton of his briefs, squeezing him gently and learning the weight of him in your hand. You stroked your palm up his length, thumb swiping over the tip and feeling the wetness of his arousal.

Jack grunted, his hips rising up off the bed to buck into your touch and the movement had his thigh flexing and pressing between your legs. You moaned into his stubbled cheek, the sound mingling with his heavy breaths as you stroked his length and rocked against him. 

“Jack.” His name was a gasp for salvation, a desperate plea on your lips that had him shuddering under your touch.

“Nuh uh, angel,” Jack chided in an endlessly warm tone, his smile pressed into the corner of your mouth. “Don’t stop calling me daddy now—not when it makes me so fucking hot for you.”

“Daddy, daddy,” you babbled breathlessly into his scruffy cheek, your desire thick in your veins at the teasing command in his tone. “I need you inside me, please—please, I need you so bad,” you whined, your fingers squeezing his cock through his boxers.

“Christ, you’ve got me, angel, just take me out,” Jack rumbled, his hips rocking up against your palm while you worked his length. 

Not needing more invitation than that, you reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. He was still hardening and thickening beneath your touch, the velvety soft skin growing taut the tighter you stroked him. 

Jack groaned at your pleasurable attention, and the sound went straight to the slit between your thighs, your arousal leaking into your panties. You were so drenched, you were certain he could feel it against his thigh, but when you rubbed your pussy against him, he only grunted, his cock twitching in your hand.

“Want more,” you keened against Jack’s stubbled cheek, both your heads tilted to stare down your bodies and watch your hand pump adoringly up and down his length while he grew harder beneath your touch. “Want your fat cock sinking into my needy pussy, daddy, please.”

“Fuuuck,” Jack groaned, the edge in his voice almost pained. His hips bucked off the bed as he fucked into your fist, precum beading at the tip and leaking down the side, slicking your strokes. “Keep talking like that, angel, and I’m gonna blow my load before I even get inside you.”

“But daddy, we can’t have that,” you whined teasingly, laughing softly as you turned your face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Then you were pulling away only long enough to shove your panties down over your ass and thighs, kicking them off into the sheets at the base of the bed. Once done, your hand wrapped around Jack’s cock again, greedy for the feel of him, loving the weight and warmth against your palm. 

Sliding your leg over both of Jack’s thighs, you moved your body until you were straddling his hips, your hand guiding his cock to press between the slippery folds of your slit. Your wet pussy pressing down on the length of his thick cock, your clit bumping against the ridged veins lining the shaft, had both of you moaning.

Jack cupped your jaw and guided your face back to his, his tongue sliding along your plump lower lip and licking lovingly into your mouth. He kissed you deeply, devouring your sounds of pleasure and groaning his own satisfaction like he’d never tasted anything as sweet—and he couldn’t get enough.

His other hand slid beneath the soft cotton of your tank top, his thumb brushing over your nipple and teasing the sensitive bud until it tightened into an achy, needy peak. Heat and desire pooled between your thighs, leaking from your pussy and coating his length as you rocked against him.

You broke apart only long enough for Jack to tear off your top, tossing it somewhere in the room you didn’t see because you were too busy slanting your mouth to his and greedily kissing him again. Your lips were swollen from kissing, but you couldn’t stop, you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him.

It felt like the opposite of standing in the calm center of a storm—your body was a riot of pleasure and sensation, desperately rocking against the man between your thighs while the bedroom around you remained undisturbed, the light shifting and glowing brighter as the sun rose outside. 

And Dr. Jack Abbot was still your rock, your tether to the earth, grounding you with the rasp of his calloused hands over your soft curves, his expert fingers plucking and stroking your nipples while his hips lifted from the mattress to grind his hard cock into your cunt. 

You were so wet for him, so empty and aching, your pussy pulsed against his hard length, your desire coating him from root to tip. A sob was lodged in your throat, your hips working against his thick shaft in increasingly desperate movements. 

“Jack,” you cried, the sound pitiful even to your own ears. You needed him, you needed him more than you needed your next breath. And you knew he could hear it in the ragged edge of your voice as you sobbed his name. 

Thankfully for you, Jack Abbot was just as much of a competent, capable man as he was a doctor. He heard the anxious wanting in your tone and knew exactly how to handle you. He stroked his hands soothingly over your ribs and down your spine, cooing soft sounds of comfort against your cheek. 

“Take me inside your sweet pussy, angel,” Jack rumbled, the steel of his order softened in the honeyed warmth of his tone. “Let me feel you—need to feel your heat hugging my cock.”

“Daddy, yesss, please, can I?” you babbled, burying your face in the weathered skin of his neck. His scent was stronger there, and you huffed greedily, breathing in the smell of sunshine and earth on his skin. It filled your head with amber clouds of comfort. 

“Go on, angel, you’ve got this,” Jack murmured encouragingly, the calm warmth of his voice settling around your shoulders like the coziest blanket. He pressed a kiss to the pulse at the base of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed on a exhale, shifting your hips until the tip of his cock caught at the entrance of your leaking hole. Sitting up on your knees, you lifted your hips and guided his cock to line up with your pussy. Then you pressed down determinedly.

A breathy cry burst from your lips when the fat tip of Jack’s cock pushed into your tight channel. He was thicker than anyone you’d taken before, and your heart fluttered against your ribcage in panic, the devastating thought occurring to you that he might not be able to fit.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re so big, Jack, I don’t know if I can—”

“You can take me,” Jack said firmly, interrupting your panicked babbling as he sat up to face you. He caught your wobbling chin in his steady hand and guided your eyes to look at him. “You can take me, angel,” he repeated, ducking his head and looking at you with confidence and pride written in the lines of his face. “You can do this.”

The belief Jack had in you—even about something as base as taking his cock—was enough to have tears gathering in your eyes. Your lower lip quivered and instead of giving in to the spiraling thoughts about how no one else had ever believed in you the way Jack did in that moment, you surged forward and kissed him. 

You kissed Jack Abbot the way you’d never kissed anyone before. You kissed him like he was your past, present and future, like he was the calm in the storm of your life. You kissed him like he was your safe harbor, the steady dock under your feet and the man who was your home. 

All the while, Jack kissed you in return, meeting the fervor of your lips with an adoration that had your heart singing in your chest. With every sweep of his tongue and nip of his teeth and pull of his mouth, he exulted your existence and promised devotion for as long as you’d have him. 

“Jack,” you gasped his name, wrenching your bee-stung lips from his as you pressed down further on his cock, incandescent pleasure radiating from where you were joined through the rest of your body.

“Feel so good, angel,” Jack rasped, kissing his way down the curve of your throat and past your collarbone. His mouth left goose bumps in its wake as he trailed kisses down to your chest. “More, angel, you can take more.”

Jack’s words were muffled in the plush curves of your tits, cupped in his big, strong hands. His head ducked down until his tongue was lapping at their tightened peaks, torturing the sensitive buds while your head tipped back and you moaned. He sucked one of your soft tits into his mouth, tongue swirling teasingly around your nipple.

Your back bowed and you thrust your chest into Jack’s face, your fingers sliding into his curly silver hair and clutching his head tight. A cry of pleasure tumbled from your lips, the sound devolving into a filthy moan as you sank down on his cock, taking half of him inside you. 

“God, daddy, you’re breaking me in half,” you whined, your hips writhing in his lap, lifting up and pushing back down for more of the stinging stretch. The pleasure bordered on pain, but it felt so good, you couldn’t get enough, pressing even further down on his hard cock.

Jack chuckled, pulling away from your chest with an obscene wet sound, your tit falling from his mouth while he looked up at you. His brown eyes were sparkling with mischief in the bright daylight.

“You love it, don’t you, angel?” Jack teased, in the warm, patronizing tone that sent your belly swooping. “You love the feeling of my fat cock sinking deep into your pretty cunt, splitting you open and spreading you so wide, huh?”

The filthy words went straight to your pussy, your tight hole pulsing around Jack’s hard shaft while you nodded your agreement. “Yuh huh, I love it, daddy, it’s sooo good,” you babbled, your fingers idly twisting in Jack’s hair as you clung to him and pressed your hips down on his thick length.

A small grin pulled across his face and he caught your eye, wrapping his lips around your other nipple and sucking hard enough to wring a squeal from your mouth. Your body bucked on his lap, and it was only his sinewy arm around your lower back that kept you anchored on top of him.

Spreading your knees wider on the bed, you pressed down hard on Jack’s cock until you were fully seated. The full, fat length of him was buried inside you to the hilt, stretching your tight cunt and punching the breath from your lungs. 

A surprised yelp slipped from your lips at the sudden, overwhelming fullness, but the sound soon dissolved into a deep, dirty moan when the slight sting gave way to scorching pleasure. Your body melted against Jack, his head lifting from your tits to take in the look of ecstasy on your face. 

“There we go,” Jack rasped, one of his hands pressing to your lower back, keeping your bodies locked together and still for a moment. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” he teased, capturing your lips in a playful, nipping kiss. 

You huffed a laugh against his mouth, and shook your head good-naturedly, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you clung to your strong, steady doctor.

Jack pressed his forehead to yours, his voice lowering to deep rasp. “You’re taking me so good, angel—you’re such a good girl.” He brushed a kiss to the apple of your cheek, and it was only then that you realized you were smiling, pleased by his praise. “Are you ok, does it feel good?”

“Mm, yes, daddy,” you murmured, sinking into the feeling of having Jack’s thick cock seated inside you, pleasure pulsing from where you were joined. “Feel so good filled up with your cock—you fill me up so good, I wanna stay right here forever.” 

Your mumbled words were half lost to a moan as you rocked your hips gently, feeling his shaft drag ever so gently against your inner walls. It was intense and wonderful and felt so good, you couldn’t stop. 

Jack’s hands fell to your hips, and he gripped your soft curves, helping you grind down on him. 

“That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his own hips rolling beneath yours, bringing your bodies together in a delicious push and pull that wrenched a pleasured grunt from him. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight and you feel so fucking good—so wet and warm. You’re making daddy feel so good.”

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you chanted, lips parted and breaths panting against Jack’s grizzled cheeks as you bounced on his lap. Still, you wanted more, and you knew Jack would give it to you, all you had to do was ask. “Will you suck on my tits, daddy, please?”

“Fuck, of course, angel,” Jack rumbled in response, his head ducking down, mouth latching onto a nipple and sucking until your hips gave a reflexive kick. “Ya like it when daddy sucks on your tits, angel? Your perfect fucking tits.” 

His words were muttered, almost like he was talking to himself, and he didn’t wait for an answer before burying his face in your soft mounds. His lips and tongue worshiped your tits, showing you just how much he adored your body.

“Yes, yes, daddy, I love it,” you cried, rocking your hips faster, rolling them in a steady rhythm that had your clit grinding against the base of him. The pleasure was building fast in your core, until you were suddenly on the precipice. “Please, Jack, ‘m so close.”

 “Come on my cock, angel—fuck, I wanna feel you clench around my fat cock while you’re screaming my name,” Jack rambled in between wet, suckling kisses to your soft flesh. His hands cupped your tits, thumbs stroking maddeningly over your nipples before pinching them roughly. “C’mon angel, give it to me, show me what a good girl you are and come for me.”

“Jack—JACK!” 

His words and his cock and his hands and his perfect mouth sent you tumbling over the edge of your release, making you come on his cock. Your hips worked furiously as pleasure crashed over you in waves, helpless moans and cries spilling from your lips while Jack held you tight and thrust into you from below. 

He was hot and hard and everywhere, his thick cock still deep inside you, his arms wrapped around you, his chest and belly pressed against your soft curves. He was the calm in the center of the storm that was your release, and he carried you through it, whispering words of praise in your ear. 

You were still coming down from the height of your pleasure when Jack rolled you onto your back, his hips sliding between your thighs and thrusting his cock deep into you. It felt so good that you moaned loudly, your arms and legs wrapping around Jack and holding him as he fucked you, chasing his release. 

“You’re such a good girl, angel, taking me so well and coming on my cock like such a pretty slut. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you, never felt anything as perfect. You’re perfect, angel, so fucking perfect—fuck.” 

Jack bit off a groan and pulled his cock from your tight cunt. He stroked himself to completion, his come spilling across your belly and mound between your thighs while you watched pleasure contort his face. 

He let out a fierce grunt, his shoulders shaking and arms shuddering as he hunched over your body. The hand not wrapped around his cock was gripping your thigh tightly—like, for once, you were his rock, his anchor tethering him to earth.

Bathed in the bright golden light of morning filtering into his bedroom, he looked magnificent, and you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed Jack’s face and pulled him down for a kiss, tasting the pleasure from his tongue. 

His knuckles brushed your bare skin, more come leaking from the tip of his cock and onto your belly. He was covering you in ropes of his come, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were moving against yours in a sensual slide, his tongue slipping possessively into your mouth and groaning his pleasure.

With a final pull on his cock and one last kiss, Jack rolled off you, collapsing onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes while his chest heaved. He was still wearing his t-shirt and you pouted at it.

Still gasping for your own breaths, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of Jack’s shirt and raked your nails through the hair dusting his belly. He let out a shuddering breath, his cock twitching as another drop of come leaked from the tip of his softening length, seeping into the cotton shirt.

If you weren’t so limp and sated—and you weren’t afraid of making a mess of Jack’s bed with the come slowly drying on your skin—you would’ve leaned over and licked him clean. But that could wait for another time, when you both weren’t so tired.

Jack settled a hand on the back of yours, stilling your fingers where they were softly stroking his belly and giving them an affectionate squeeze. 

After a few moments of catching your breath together, he heaved himself up and reached an arm over his shoulders to yank off his shirt. He rolled onto his side and used the soft shirt to clean you up while you giggled happily.

“You good, angel?” Jack asked, his face hovering above yours, dark caramel eyes searching your expression for anything amiss.

A soft smile curved your mouth and you reached up to cup Jack’s grizzled cheeks, thumbs stroking over his skin. “I’m good,” you murmured, lifting up and pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth. “Thanks for pulling out—I can’t believe I forgot to tell you to use a condom.”

Jack made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, but it was softened by the teasing smile on his face. “Not very responsible of you, doctor,” he said in a deep, playful rasp that had you laughing.

“Don’t act like you didn’t forget, too, Dr. Abbot,” you retorted, batting good-naturedly at his shoulder. He laughed along with you before sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.

“Do you need anything while I’m up?” he asked, putting on his prosthetic then standing and tossing his soiled shirt into the laundry. He paused at the foot of the bed to wait for your answer.

Lifting your arms above your head, you stretched languidly in the warm sheets of Dr. Jack Abbot’s bed, smiling like the cat that got the cream as you reveled in the feeling of him watching you unabashedly. 

It felt like warm, orange flames of flickering heat licking at your skin, his eyes bright and intense in the morning light as they trailed over every inch of your bare skin and naked curves. That adoration you’d felt in his arms was clear in the gleam of his eye and the slightly awed smile on his face. 

“I could use some more water,” you finally answered, exhaling deeply as you relaxed and settled into the bed. You were eager for him to return so he’d wrap you back up in his arms, and you could snuggle together.

“You got it,” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he wrenched his eyes away from you and seemed to force himself to walk out of the room. 

While he was gone, you got up and went to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up a little better. When you were washing your hands, you heard a knock on the door before it opened a crack.

“Got you a shirt if you want something to wear,” Jack said, opening the door only enough for his arm to slip in. He hung a t-shirt on the hook by the door and then closed it again. 

With a smile, you dried your hands and slid the soft cotton shirt over your head. It was plain white like the one he’d had on earlier, but clean, and it smelled like his earthy, sunshiny scent. You took a deep breath of the fabric, your nipples tightening and pushing against the fabric as warm pleasure flooded you down to your toes.

But then you remembered the man himself was waiting for you, and you eagerly exited the bathroom, finding Jack reclined against the pillows on his bed. He was sipping a glass of water, another full glass on the bedside table for you. You picked it up and drank half before setting it back down and climbing into bed.

Without hesitation, Jack lifted his arm and you slid into the space next to him. The two of you settled beneath the blankets together, your head laying on Jack’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your fingers idly traced the veins and freckles of his other arm, brushing through the hair dusted across his skin.

Outside, the soft, suffused orange light of dawn had given way to the bright, blinding light of morning. The sun was still climbing higher in the sky, but you and Jack needed rest. 

So your bodies relaxed together, laying entwined in each other’s arms. You drifted to sleep in the calm, still bedroom while the rest of Pittsburgh carried on in the world beyond. 

From that day on, Dr. Jack Abbot was your rock, your calm in the storm, the man whose arms were your home. He was your safe harbor. And you were his.

[secretmaniacc]

AAAA I love your writing so much!!!

HEHE I have a smut request for The Salesman

Backstory; Female y/n always see the salesman doing his job at the station. She even played with him one time and won however she never accepted the card. As the days goes by they will greet each other with a simple nod gesture or smile sometimes even small chat before he finds his new victim and she’s heading back home.

UNTIL

She overheard the two recruits Gi-hun hired (I forgot their names oops) planning to hurt the salesman (I know the plot they weren’t supposed to approach him but let’s pretend Gi-hun give them a task to kidnap and torture salesman hehehe)

So y/n ran back to the station and disrupted salesman while he was in the middle of slapping the poor homeless dude. Talking gibberish to him. He has no clue what the hell she’s talking about bc she’s out of breath from running and talking too fast. He’s just confused. When y/n saw the two men again approaching their way. She grabs salesman head and kissed him. [I hope you seen the scene of captain America and black widow kissing to display discomfort so the bad guys won’t catch them at the mall hahaha basically like that scene]

He pulled back looking even more confused. She said display of affection make people uncomfortable, as soon as she said that he looked up and saw the two men walking past them. Y/n felt embarrassed and ran home. In the middle of the night someone was banging her door. She opened it and…..SMUT TIME HEHEHE

Also I’m terribly sorry for my grammar English is not my native language :’)

[also if you do accept can you send me a message 🙈 ty heheh]

SLOW DOWN

pairings: the salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: A routine night at the train station takes a dark turn when you overhear two men plotting to attack the mysterious salesman you’ve casually crossed paths with before. Acting on impulse, you intervene in the only way you can—by kissing him to throw off his pursuers. What seems like a reckless moment of instinct pulls you into his dangerous world.

Warnings: language, violence (kinda), Dom!salesman x sub!reader, praising, whipped cream kink, kissing, mentions of blood, fingering, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it.

Wc: 3k

A/n: you ask I deliver, hope you like it, not proofread <33

The sharp snap of skin colliding with skin echoes through the crowded station. You barely flinch. You've heard it before. Too many times.

Across the station, he stands on the cold tile floor—immaculate suit, polished shoes, that same unsettling grin. He raises his hand and slaps the man across from him again. Sharp. Precise.

Another one hooked.

You lean against the metal pillar, watching. You know this game. You’ve played it before.

It was a week ago.

The station hummed with the dull buzz of flickering lights and the occasional metallic screech of trains crawling in and out. You were late. Work had dragged on longer than usual, and by the time you reached the platform, the last train was dragging its heels. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and damp concrete.

That’s when you saw him.

The man in the pristine suit.

He stood out like a polished coin in a pile of rusted change. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and that too-perfect smile stretched across his face like it had been painted on. He leaned casually against a pillar, holding two small folded squares of paper—one red, one blue.

He caught your eye, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, with a subtle flick of his wrist, he gestured to the empty space across from him. His movements were practiced, smooth, as if this routine had been rehearsed countless times.

Curiosity gnawed at you before logic could interfere. You found yourself walking toward him, footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“Want to play a game?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic. He held up the two folded papers between his fingers, the colors dull under the harsh station lights.

 “Seriously?” You eyed him warily.

“It’s simple. Flip my tile with yours. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win…” His smile widened, just enough to feel unsettling. “I slap you.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “That’s it? No tricks?”

“No tricks.” His tone didn’t waver.

Against better judgment, you stood. The game was straightforward, deceptively so. The first round, you won. The second, too. His tile moving frantically under your strikes. His face remained unchanged, though, as if he expected this. Not a single slap coming your way. He handed over the cash with a flick of his wrist, the money slipping into your palm like silk.

Then came the card.

A brown rectangle with a circle, triangle, and square etched in black. He held it out casually, like an afterthought.

“What’s this?” you asked, fingers hovering over it.

“A bigger game. A chance to win more.”

His voice dipped, something darker coiled beneath his words. A chill crept up your spine. You smirked, flicking the card back at him with two fingers.

“Not interested.”

The card fluttered to the ground, but he didn’t look offended. No, he only chuckled, kneeling down and slipping it back into his pocket.

Since then, you saw him often.

Always at the station. Always playing his game with some poor soul desperate enough to take the bait. Your interactions became routine—brief nods, and smiles the occasional quip when you caught him mid-game.

But tonight was different.

You are leaned against a pillar, letting the cold seep into your back. The station was quieter than usual, the shadows thicker. That’s when you heard them.

Two men by the vending machines, their voices low but sharp.

“That’s him. The guy in the suit.”

“Yeah. Just like boss said. We follow him out, grab him, torture him, make him talk. He knows everything.”

Your stomach twisted. Shit.

Without thinking, you pushed off the pillar and sprinted across the station, boots slapping against the concrete. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning your lungs.

He didn’t notice you until you were right in front of him.

“You need to leave. Now.”

His hand paused mid-slap, hovering above the cheek of a nervous man. Slowly, his head turned to you, one brow lifting.

“Excuse me?” His tone was calm, almost amused.

You leaned in, speaking low and fast. “Those two men by the vending machines? They’re coming for you. You need to trust me and leave.”

His eyes didn’t move, but something shifted in his posture. He blinked slowly, considering you.

“I don’t know what you’re saying”

Frustration flared. You glanced back. The two men were moving now, angling toward you both.

“Shit,” you muttered. Thinking fast, you did the first thing that came to mind.

You grabbed his face and kissed him.

His entire body stiffened, muscles locking beneath your hands. The world around you seemed to freeze. The station noise dulled to a distant hum.

You pulled back abruptly, heart pounding in your ears. His wide eyes stared into yours, utterly confused.

“Display of affection,” you muttered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Makes people uncomfortable.”

His gaze flicked past you. The two men hesitated, awkwardly glancing away as they veered off in the opposite direction.

A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened, smoothing down his tie.

“Clever.”

Your face burned. "I’m sorry, I had to do that, but you need to get out of the station."

Without another word, you turned and bolted, weaving through the crowd and up the station steps. You didn’t stop until the cold night air hit your face.

---

It was well past midnight when the banging started.

You jolted awake, heart slamming against your ribs. Someone was pounding on your door, relentless.

You hesitated, fingers brushing over the baseball bat by your bed. But you decided to leave it, Slowly, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole.

It was him.

The man in the suit.

Your blood ran cold, before you unlocked the door cautiously, opening it just a crack.

“What the hell—”

He pushed the door wider, stepping in uninvited. That same unnerving smile stretched across his face.

“We need to talk.”

His tone left no room for argument.

You stared, unsure whether to slam the door in his face or listen.

“About what?” you asked nervously

His smile widened just a fraction.

“About why you tried saving my life.”

His voice was smooth, but something darker lurked beneath it. You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how small your apartment felt with him standing there. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. And another. Closing the door behind him.

Instinctively, you backed up.

His eyes never left you, scanning you with unnerving precision. The thin fabric of your pajama shorts and the loose strap of your shirt felt far too revealing under his gaze. Like he was undressing you. Heat crept up your neck, but you couldn’t look away.

“You ran all that way... just to save me?” His tone was low, edged with amusement, but there was something sharp underneath. He tilted his head, taking another step closer, as you backed up again. "Tell me, was it bravery... or something else?"

“I—uh... I just thought—”

“You thought what?” he interrupted smoothly, still moving forward, now closing the space between you. “That I couldn’t handle a few men?”

You felt your breath catch. Your heel bumped into the cold tile of the kitchen counter. Shit. Nowhere else to go.

He noticed.

“I killed them, you know.”

Your eyes snapped to his face. The casual way he said it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, yes.” His smirk deepened. “It was... enjoyable.”

Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to the dark stains on his shirt. Blood.

The air thickened. Your breathing turned shallow, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He was too close now.

His hands came up slowly—deliberately—and planted themselves on either side of you, caging you in against the counter. The cool edge of the countertop bit into your lower back.

He leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over the curve of your neck. His scent—metallic, faintly sweet, and something darker—wrapped around you. One of his hands slid, gliding over your waist, fingers curling to pull you forward against him, eliminating even the smallest sliver of space between you. And that’s when you felt him.

“You should be more careful who you save,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not everyone is grateful.”

Before you could react, his hands shifted with unsettling ease, gripping your hips. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the cold countertop. You gasped, instinctively gripping the edge, your legs parting as he stepped between them, locking you in.

His eyes bored into yours, and for a fleeting second, you couldn’t decide if it was fear or something else that sent a shiver down your spine.

“So, tell me,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. "Why did you really save me?"

His hand traced slowly along your thigh, barely touching, yet burning. You couldn’t answer. Your mind screamed for words, but your lips stayed parted, breathless.

And his smirk deepened, eyes flicking past you to something on the counter that you forgot to remove earlier. Slowly, he reached over without breaking eye contact. His fingers curled around the can of whipped cream, lifting it with casual ease. 

Your brows knit in confusion. "What are you—" 

Before you could finish, he brought the nozzle to his lips and pressed down. The soft hiss filled the air as the white cream curled into his mouth. He swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice smooth and dark. His eyes dragged lazily over you, settling on your parted lips. “But it could taste better.” 

Before the words could settle, his hand moved—calloused fingers tilting your chin up. His thumb and forefinger gently hooked under your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. The cool metal of the can brushed your skin, and a soft stream of whipped cream slid onto your tongue. 

You barely had a moment to react before his mouth crashed into yours. 

The kiss was fierce, and unapologetic. His lips moulded to yours, but it wasn’t enough—his tongue pushed past your lips, exploring every corner of your mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness, tangling with your tongue in a heated rhythm. 

Your breath hitched, and your hands instinctively gripped his shirt, knuckles brushing against the dried blood you hadn’t dared to question yet. fisting the fabric as his kiss deepened. He groaned low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through you, spurring him on. 

His tongue teased and stroked against yours, pulling soft, involuntary sounds from you. Every movement was calculated, demanding, as if he wanted to taste every bit of you, not just the sweetness on your lips. 

When he finally pulled back, your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips slick and swollen. A trail of saliva between you.

But he wasn’t finished. 

The can hissed again—this time against the sensitive skin of your neck. A cold trail of cream dripped along your pulse point, making you shiver. 

Then his mouth was on you—hot and unrelenting. His tongue flicked over the sticky trail, licking it up slowly, savouring the taste of cream and skin. His teeth grazed your throat, nipping just enough to make you moan. 

A low chuckle rumbled against your neck as his lips latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. 

His grip tightened around your waist, your legs wrapped around his hips without thinking, drawing him impossibly closer. 

His breath ghosted over your ear, deep and rough. 

“See?” he murmured, tongue lightly tracing the shell of your ear. “It tastes so much better this way.”

He was breathing closer to your ear, lingering over your neck for moments before his lips pressed against you again.

You moaned out softly to how he was kissing your bare shoulders, down to the blade of them, then back up, “damn it,” his notes were so low, “fuck”

“What?” you finally managed to say, pushing against him a bit, the feeling immaculate, you could feel how hard he is pressing against you, and you can barely breathe.

“you’re so fucking sweet.”

The tension is thickening around you, the heat in your bodies is too much to ignore, you couldn’t stand against it, you couldn’t stand against him, he was just so addicting in a way you couldn’t quite place.

The very instant you felt his lips on your skin again, the warmth of his body, you couldn’t hold it back. Arching your back, pushing thighter against him, you could rupture at how he was teasing at the hem of your shorts, “take them off.”

He pulled the fabric down frantically, a thud to the ground, before slipping his fingers below the lace material of your underwear, and you gasped, your body tensing close to his the very instant he came in contact with your clit, “so wet f’me”

You nearly moaned, huffing sweetly at his touch and the circles he made, “the things I have in my mind for you.” His hand gently started cupping your breast. He had you in such a hold now that you could barely move.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head, it was the tension his voice held.

He let his middle finger inside you as far as he could reach, you spread your tight a bit further apart allowing him more of you.

“Mhm? Right there, yeah?” he growled, nearly moaning himself at the way you moved. “fuck, you’re so soaked.”

You couldn't even hear him properly. your mind wasn't working further than to what his hand was doing to you. He moved steadily in and out of you, curling his finger right where it would have you shaking. His thumb brushed across your clit every now and then, and you couldn't focus.

''Yeah,'' he muttered, nibbling at your earlobe, ''Be my beautiful girl and let me feel you.''

you reached out tangling your fingers into his black strands, and it didn't take long until you was a moaning mess under his touch. Your hips spasmed. Your breathing levelled heavier, and you gasped repeatedly. It was music to his ears, a never-ending orchestra.

''Now I want to know, do you want to continue'' he withdrew his touch from your core, forcing his hand down between you. “I won’t, if you don’t want to”

Without thinking your fingers intestinally wrapped around the loop of his belt, confidence build up as you tugged at it forward. “I want to.” You breathed before loosening his belt, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the kitchen.

He took over impatiently zipping his pants down, before freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers as he pushed the material aside.

Taking his cock in his hand and you moved with him. You was still facing him, your chest pressed against his front as he lifted your thigh, giving him everything he could need from you.

''To think I’ve always fantasized about this moment,'' he hissed as he dragged his cock up and down your soaked slit. Teasing by pushing forward and creating unbearable friction against your clit, ''I thought that after that night, I would never see you again, yet you kept showing up, flashing me those smiles, making my mind drive me insane, fuck—''

You exhaled, thundery. You couldn't shape a word at the pleasure he is putting you through even if you wished to do so. you simply whined. body shaking.

Pushing into you, a bit at the time, he bit down your bare shoulder, needing to ease his own tension, “You're like a cigarette at midnight—dangerous, burning slow, and impossible to put down."

He moved his hand over your hip, lifting your leg more, “And the worst part? You know it’ll ruin you—leave you hollow and wrecked—but fuck, you’re already leaning in, desperate for that first hit, craving the way it burns and numbs you all at once.”

You threw your head back, tensing your fingers into his hair as he fucked you on the countertop. It was hard. He fucked you roughly yet with so much passion. It was intimate, emotional. His body moved with yours— your body obeyed his.

“...and that’s the real addiction, isn’t it? Not the rush, not the aftermath—but the waiting. The wanting. Knowing it’ll destroy you and still craving every second before it does.'' He was speaking so low to you, plunging his cock in and out of you, forcing your body to take what he gave.

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at his neck now, ''please—''

He pushed harder. Forced his cock deeper, reached further.

''And not to speak about this fucking cunt...'' He moaned, drawing his tongue along the arch of your neck, ''I can't really blame myself if I get hooked, can I?''

you breathed out. Your eyes rolling, your back curling, ''Please. I can't take it—''

''One taste of this, and you're fucking addicting.'' The hand supporting your leg slid lower until the back of your knee rested in the curve of his elbow, and he spaced your thighs more, diving into you depths and losing his mind over how hot and tight you were around him.

''I'm—''

He was relieved by that. He could barely hold himself together at the tension between you, the fusion and mix of need and thirst of your bodies. He slowed his movements, not bucking his hips as roughly anymore, and you were close. So close.

''Fucking hell—'' He groaned against your shoulder again, burying his head into the soft spot of your neck. He came the second he felt you pulsating around him. The instant he felt your release around him, he came just as crashing down as you'd done.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out, stepping back just a bit as he dragged your worn out body forward. It was a moment, if so a short, little one, where your cheek rested against his chest, and his lips pushed into the top of your head. That tiny moment felt good. It felt calm and reassuring to both of you.

“thanks, for keeping me alive.”

[idiotgojo]

Megumi in Heart Diffraction Glasses ♡♡♡

warning; nothing just tooth-rotting fluff and grumpy megumi, school au

Megumi had been in a foul mood all day, snapping at classmates and avoiding eye contact with anyone who tried to talk to him. It wasn't just a bad day; it was terrible as if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Not even seeing you when he got to school could lighten up his mood. You noticed his sour attitude and wanted to cheer him up, but every time he saw you walk toward him, he'd turn around and walk in the opposite direction ignoring you too.

It was finally after school hours that you found him sitting alone, shoulders slumped at the bottom of the staircase nobody uses near the ground. The sun was setting, and orange hues were cast across the field of boys playing football.

"Hi gloomy," you said approaching him, he was surprised to see you but at least wasn't making a run for it this time. He didn't say anything, just went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. You sat beside him on the stairs looking at the beautiful sky that was turning pink and purple.

"I really don't want to talk right now," he said after a long silence. "Not even if I offer you your favorites?" you opened a wrapper of these ginger-flavoured sweet treats, offering the whole thing to him.

You watched him pick a few out, trying not to grin as his expression softened slightly. Before you knew it, he was crumpling the empty packet. "I've just been having a terrible day. A series of unfortunate events," he grumbled incoherently, not wanting to delve into details.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "I get it. Sometimes everything seems to go wrong. But you know what? You don't have to go through it alone. I'm here."

He didn't respond immediately, but his posture gradually relaxed as you continued offering comforting words and small jokes to lighten the mood. You rummaged through your bag, searching for something, while Megumi waited patiently.

"Look what I've got!" you said, presenting ridiculous red colored heart-shaped glasses.

Megumi raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "What are those?"

"They're those new heart diffraction glasses!" you explained, slipping them onto his face. "They turn every light into tiny hearts. Perfect for brightening up a bad day."

He looked around, blinking as the world transformed into a field of glowing hearts. His initial skepticism gave way to a surprised chuckle, his eyes softening in awe.

"Alright, alright," Megumi said with a small, affectionate smile. "I'll admit, this is kind of amazing," His gaze lingered from the scene ahead of him to you, your smile accompanied by a million little hearts in the background. He couldn't help but be charmed by how you seemed to light up his world. "And so are you" he added.

As the two of you sat there, surrounded by the playful glow of heart-shaped lights, Megumi realized that sometimes, the smallest gestures could make the biggest difference.

note; requested by @blue-musingss , I'm sorry but when I posted the original asks Tumblr's tags weren't working so I had to take that one down and repost. Hope you like this one!

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Most of the takes I’ve seen about Caitlyn’s Jinx-hunting strike team and their bit of light chemical warfare tend to focus on either justifying or condemning Caitlyn’s actions as if the characters are on some kind of morality points leaderboard, which makes even less sense than usual in the Everybody Does Terrible Things show. Litigating whether Caitlyn did a limited police action intended to minimize harm or a war crime is not only kind of pointless, but imo not really the intended function of this story element at all.

The point of this story element in the overall arc of S2 is that you can’t expect to do just a little bit of state violence and then stop. It’s the beginning of Caitlyn’s slide into her dictator era—using her power both as an enforcer and as a Kiramman to get the revenge she has fixated on in her grief.

(A lot of discussion of this sequence of events slides right over what to me is by far the most horrifying detail—which is that it seems like the plans for a major public works project in Zaun are proprietary to one single rich family in Piltover. Why? Because the Council couldn’t care less whether people in the Undercity were dying of Fantasy Pollution Consumption. Which left any mitigation up to the benevolence of private charity from wealthy Piltover families. And as we learn very early on by watching how Jayce is treated, Kiramman charity comes with conditions attached, and can be indistinguishable from control.)

Of course Caitlyn sees her plan as the lesser evil; as a limited and proportionate response that will be less destructive than a full police occupation of the Undercity. But the problem with a limited and proportionate response intended to only target Bad Guys is that it rarely stays that way. Because people will react to repression in ways that are often used to justify more repression.

And we see that it is a VERY short slide from the strike team into tactics that do broadly target civilians for things that in our world we would call protected political speech—things like dyeing your hair a symbolic color or standing around in a square listening to someone give a speech. We go from the strike team to checkpoints, mass arrests, and violent interrogations in like. One episode. Which anyone familiar with the dynamics of state violence in the real world could tell you was exactly what was gonna fucking happen.

(The scene with the cops harassing people at the checkpoint into Piltover is very sharp imo because it shows quite accurately that whatever the stated purpose of a police checkpoint is, the actual effect of a checkpoint is to force interactions between civilians and police, and if police are looking for reasons to target people they will find them.)

So on one level, this storyline is not really about Caitlyn’s personal moral compass at all. It’s about how the logic of state violence tends to drive escalating cycles of conflict.

But also…we’re not supposed to just be okay with a bit of light chemical warfare either! I think the show is pretty unambiguous about that! The whole sequence with Caitlyn’s strike team using the Gray is supposed to be a warning that things are going nowhere good! There’s a reason why the scene in the abandoned arcade, where Jinx learns Vi has become an enforcer, is set up to mirror the scene of child Powder and Vi hiding from enforcers in the same location in S1. We are shown that scene from Jinx’s POV in a way that invites us to sympathize with her. Caitlyn and Vi look like monsters, stalking through the fog in their enforcer gas masks, because they are doing something monstrous.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 79

Tripitaka (Wukong) pulling out hearts like:

Welcome back to this week's chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest. This week we continuing dealing with the worst king in this story so far, and his demon cohorts. On the bright side we get some switcheroo hi jinks between Wukong and Sanzang. So let's get into it shall we?

So the guards arrive and yoink 'Tripitaka' who is really Wukong, back to the palace to go see the king. While everyone else is kneeling, Wukong stays standing, which should be the first hint to anyone paying attention that this isn't the real Tripitaka, but everyone in this kingdom is an idiot so- Anyways, 'Tripitaka' asks the king why they brought him back here, and the king explains that he has a mystery illness, which less face it, is probably a some kind of demon STD, that can only be cured by a medicine that the demon father in law has prepared. And the final ingredient for this wonderful medicine, can only come from Tripitaka. If it works and the king is cured, they'll build a shrine for him.

'Tripitaka' says that since he's a monk, he doesn't have much of anything on him, so he asks the king what he wants. And the worlds worst king says that he wants his heart. This guy would get along swell with the Evil Queen from Snow White. Anyways 'Tripitaka' agrees saying he's actually got a quite a few hearts and asks which color he would like. The demonic father in law says that they would like his black heart. So 'Tripitaka' asks for a knife and says that if he has a black heart he will happily hand it over.

So they present his with a dagger, and instead of using it on the worthless King like I wanted, instead 'Tripitaka' disrobes before plunging the dagger into his chest, and ripping it open, causing multiple colored hearts to come rolling out. In what is probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire book so far, 'Tripitaka' shows off his multitude of hearts, a red heart, a white heart, a yellow heart, an avaricious heart, a petty heart, an ambitious heart, etc. Unfortunately for the shitty king however there isn't a single black heart.

Anyways the king is horrified by 'Tripitaka's' gory display, and tells him to take them away, which 'Tripitaka' does so, before transforming back into his true form. Then Wukong says that priests like them only have good hearts, not bad hearts, however he is willing to bet that that father in law of his has a black heart, and he's even willing to rip it out of the father in laws chest himself to show him. The father in law recognizes him as the Great Sage, and tries to make a run for it, only for Monkey to block his way and go for the attack.

The two fight for a while, but the father in law quickly finds himself out matched, and makes a run for it by turning into a beam of light and speeding to deeper inside the palace to pick up his daughter, before they both flee together. After that, Monkey comments that the king sure knows how to pick them, before asking some of the king's attendants to go find out where their sniveling coward of a king scampered off to. When they finally manage to drag him out of whatever hidey hole he was in, the king comments that 'Tripitaka' is a lot uglier then he remembers him looking. Like he's one to talk.

Monkey explains that he is actually Tripitaka's disciple, and that the real Tripitaka and his other disciples are waiting at the Postal Station. And that he transformed into Tripitaka because he knew that the king was a moron that was going to try and steal his master's heart just because the worlds shadiest father in law said so. Upon hearing this the king sends one of the ministers to bring the rest of them here.

Tripitaka meanwhile is having a terrible time with the piss mud stuck to his face, luckily as soon as they walk in, Monkey rushes to Tripitaka and takes the disguise off his face. Tripitaka feels a lot better once he has his own earth shattering beauty back, and they all go into the main hall to interrogate the king, by asking him if he knows where the demon's were from. The king tells them that they said they lived in Pure Florescence Village on the Willow Slope south of the city. And that they came here and offered the beautiful daughter as a tribute to the king, which he accepted of course. Soon after that he was afflicted by illness, and the father in law told him the cure. And not once during these events did he connect the dots because as previously established- the king is a moron.

After that the rest is history that we and the pilgrims already know- that first he locked up 1111 children in goose cages to prepare them as human sacrifices to preserve his own worthless life- and failing that, deciding to use the infinitely better-than-him Tripitaka instead. Anyways the king would appreciate it if Wukong could capture the fiend, and absolve them of all wrongdoing. Monkey say's he'll do it and tells Pigsy to come with him, but Pigsy is starving, as always, so they have a nice vegetarian meal together first.

After they eat, Pigsy and Monkey head off to find the demon. Since they don't really have an exact location, Monkey summons the local god to ask for directions. The god tells him that he doesn't know a village under that name, but he knows a cave. He also tells Monkey that he was aware of the problem with the demon, but didn't have the power to do anything about it himself. Anyways he points Monkey out to a particular willow tree with nine branches and gives him the special pass code needed to reveal the cave.

Sure enough Monkey gives it a try, and the willow tree vanishes, revealing the cave. Monkey tells Pigsy to wait here, while he flushes the demon's out, before going in. Monkey quickly finds the two demon's embracing and bemoaning their lost opportunity that they have working towards for three years. Monkey quickly attacks them again, and is fended off by the father in law demon. Once, Monkey is able to successfully lure the demon outside, Pigsy joins in on the fun. The demon, already having a hard enough time against Monkey, doesn't want to have to deal with Pigsy to, so he once again turns into a light to flee.

Pigsy and Monkey give chase after him but are quickly called out by the Aged Star of South Pole, who has already captured the beam of light. The Aged Star, asks that they spare the demon, because it's one of his, and he reveals the demon's true form to be a white deer. The Aged Star turns to leave with the deer, but Monkey tells him that they still have some unfinished business, there is another demon still on the loose after all. The Aged Star agrees to wait here for Pigsy and Monkey to deal with the demoness.

So Monkey and Pigsy confronts the demon girl, who tries to flee for her life by turning into a light again, only for Monkey to smash his staff into her light form, killing her, and revealing her true form as a white faced fox. And then Pigsy smashes her head in just for good measure I guess. Monkey stops him from smashing her up even more, since they still need to show her body to the king.

First they drag the fox to the Aged Star, where he is currently scolding the white deer. They ask the Deer if this is his daughter, and he nods before moving to nuzzle the dead body of his beloved daughter, which the Aged Star scolds him for. After that, the Aged Star says he will go with them to show the King the fiends, but first Pigsy and Monkey get to commit their favorite crime- arson- by burning down the demon's house.

They arrive at the palace and show the dead fox to the King and tell him this is his so called Queen Beauty, does he still want to dally her some more? The king and his consorts are all frighted bowing, but Monkey says that they shouldn't be bowing to him, but instead the white deer, after all he is his esteemed father in law. And can I just say, I'm really glad Wukong is taking ever opportunity to rub salt in the wound and humiliate the king, because in case you haven't noticed yet, I really hate him.

Anyways the king just embarrassedly thanks them before calling for a feast to be prepared, probably to try and distract everyone from his own inadequacies. During the feast, Tripitaka and Sandy asks the Aged Star why his beast is down on earth causing problems, and the Aged Star says that the beast ran away while he was busy playing chess. He went to look for the beast when he realized it was gone and arrived just in time to stop Wukong from killing him.

Anyways, just as I'm starting to dare hope that even if the King won't be killed outright for trying to kill over a thousand children and Tripitaka, that at least his disease will get him eventually, the King asks the Aged Star for a cure to it. Which unfortunately the Aged Star does indeed posses a cure for Demon STD in the form of three fire dates, which he gives to the king. The King eats them, and not only is his body cured but it also grants longevity to all his descendants. Boo! Pigsy then asks if he has any more of those, since he would like to try them to, but sadly the Aged Star is fresh out, but says he'll send him some late. Which I wish Pigsy had asked earlier, since I'd rather he have them then the king.

The Aged Star then takes his leave, and Tripitaka and his disciples try and follow suite, only to be stopped by the king who asks for instruction. Monkey takes the opportunity to tell him to stop being such a dumb slut, and instead maybe try and do some good in the world and stop being such a weak worthless king, and then maybe this kind of thing won't happen again. I may be paraphrasing. Anyways the king tries to give them some money which they refuse, so he instead decides to send them off in his personal carriage.

Just as they've almost made their grand escape, the gods bring back all the young boys, and everyone is so overjoyed, that they kidnap the pilgrims to thank them and keep them in the worst kingdom so far for another month. At least they get some portraits painted of them so that incense can be offered out of the deal.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction, vanishing in a flash of light, super healing, transforming others, Invisibility, Wind Immunity, Medicine Making, putting out fire from a distance with a glass of wine, weaving a straw dragon and Body Division Demon Kill Count: 10753 + Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1039 God's Defeated: 23 + Unknown number Defeats: 8 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses, trading counterfeit goods, criminal threat, animal abuse, Assisting or Instigating Escape, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, Disorderly Conduct, Joyriding, unauthorized practice of medicine and Voyeurism Cry Count: 18 + 3 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka and the Tang Monk Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization, Heart Sutra, Meditation, and Being Heaven's Specialist Little Guy Cry Count: 45 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 63 Paralyzed by fear: 6 Bandit Problems: 3 Kidnapped by demons: 15 Falling Off Horses: 12

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, Sword Dancing and Magic Pee Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 4 Kidnapped by demons: 5

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring, size enhancement, CPR and Shoveling Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 15 + Unknown number of minions Kidnapped by Demons: 12 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 4 Cry Count: 5 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping, arson, defamation, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, Theft, Forcible entry, Disrupting a Funeral, Violating Tree Law and Arson

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater, Cloud soaring, and fetching water from a well. Demon Kill Count: 1 + Unknown number of minions. Kidnapped by Demons: 8 Human Kill Count: 1 Cry Count: 5 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, desecration of a human corpse, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption and Arson Previous - Masterpost - Next

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 9. iridescence — ✦ (wc: 0.6k)

“Is this going to take any longer?” you ask.

It’s an interesting feeling, having Scaramouche in your lap while he does your makeup. The side of his palm gently rests against your cheek as he does your eyeliner, his brow furrowed in concentration while you rest against the cushions of your sofa. His indigo hair and indigo eyes are barely illuminated by the dimmed lights of your living room, an insistence of his even at your protest of the horrid lighting for makeup.

“It’ll only take a moment longer,” he responds.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” an over-exaggeration on your part, but you couldn’t see how a makeover could take so damn long.

Scaramoche grins, his voice dripping in mock innocence, “Perfection takes time. Or however that saying goes. I’m not used to putting makeup on another person so just cooperate with me, will you?”

You do your best to glare at Scaramouche as he finishes up your eyeliner. The two of you have been at this for a while now, bantering while he does your makeup. When he finishes, whenever that may be, the two of you will swap places so you can give him a makeover in return. Admittedly an interesting arrangement to re-enact for a scene in his book, but you have to admit it’s been alright so far. He isn’t terrible, he just takes too long for your liking.

“Part your lips a bit. I’m putting lipstick on you,” you oblige, and Scaramouche continues while he dabs color on your lips. “Our ruse has been quite effective so far. But people seem to think we’ve been in love for longer than we’ve been dating.”

Amusement colors your voice, “I mean, I like to think it makes our whole act more effective.”

He finally leans back to inspect his work after what seems like forever and declares that he’s done — time for you to switch places. He gets off you to take a seat by your side. You take the opportunity to reposition yourself and straddle him.

Only to get a proper look at him while you give him a makeover, of course.

A few minutes of silence pass when Scaramouche speaks up, “The whole point of me asking you to do this was for us to talk. So talk.”

“Like what, the groceries?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just talk.”

“Well,” you pause, twisting the makeup sponge in your hand before getting back to work. “I think we’re running out of eggs? And we only have a little bit of flour left.”

“Did you add it to the list on the fridge?”

“I already did, smartass. You were the one who told me to talk.” you laugh slightly when you see him glaring at you, and you move your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Stop looking all grumpy like that. You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“I am not ‘looking all grumpy’.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” you chide, dabbing his cheek with your makeup sponge. “Ooooh is my grumpy face mad at me?”

“Shut up and just get this over with, will you?” Scaramouche averts his gaze. “Absolute terror.”

You move on to doing his eyeliner before you continue talking, “I could help you cook dinner tonight if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. “You’re still banned from the kitchen.”

“The thing that happened with the air fryer wasn’t even that bad.” you protest.

“Do I need to remind you what happened? You quite literally –”

“Okay fine, maybe I should leave the cooking to you today. But one day you’ll lift my ban from my own fucking kitchen.”

“Not happening until you learn how to actually cook.”

“Gonna need a good teacher for that, so why don’t you teach me?” you jest

He gives you an incredulous look before responding, “Sure. Whatever. Are you done with my eyeliner yet?”

“Stop moving and I’ll get done quicker.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

they're definitely not in love guys trust me

taglist — currently CLOSED:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @ako-ang-mahal-ko @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @aeongiies @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq

[itsadragonaesthetic]

How to Train Your Dragon Remake Review

Sighhhh..... here we go

Saw the movie with @klypsolworks btw!

The first thing I thought once the credits began to roll was......... nobody on Tumblr is ever gonna respect me again lmao.

So with that in mind! In no particular order!

Um....... movie good............. yeah.............. sorry

Okay it's not httyd 1. Of course. Duh. But it's pretty close. Most scenes are shot-for-shot exactly the same. And it doesn't suffer a whole lot from that thing that The Lion King remake did where the actors just.... don't emote or whatever. Ya know, when you're watching a remake of a beloved scene but it looks like a bunch of dolls are just being bounced around a bad and awkward set? It was actually pretty good! A lot of the actors were just good. My biggest problem was actually just Astrid. She was... a brick wall. I don't think I can imagine a single look of fear, anger, nothing. I don't even know if she smiled.

Astrid as a character though was some of the only places of actual change. And I think those changes were good changes. There were scenes in the OG that always felt weird to me. Her line of "Our parents' war is about to become ours. Figure out which side your on" felt weird to me in the OG, considering Astrid, at the time, had no indication that Hiccup was apologetic to dragons. Around others, he just seemed like a coward and aloof about dragon training. Clearly wasn't trying. Her line made sense to the audience, but I felt like it didn't make sense for Astrid to say that. That is given its own context in this one! Hiccup, before reading the Book of Dragons, tells Astrid about how maybe humans are a part of the problem. She also confesses that she is jealous of Hiccup's privileged status as the chief's son; he is allowed to be weak and useless because of his status, unlike her and everyone else in the village who have to be more engaged with their own safety and future. I really liked it and felt it was important to add!

The movie looks really good. I'm sorry y'all who are counting Toothless' fkn scales or whatever and saying it looks like dogshit. It really doesn't. The dragons do not look the way they do in the OG. I wish the nadders were fat. Nightmares kinda look almost normal and not goofy (because the visual style of more realistic. Duh). I was the most disappointed in the gronckles, but I've grown to love it. They're still goofy tubby babies. The thing I was really paying attention to was how it looked when the characters interacted with CGI, which often looks fucking terrible. Maybe I would notice problems upon rewatching, but I didn't see anything. Puppetry is always better, but it all felt good for the scenes. The actors felt grounded for the most part.

I know for a fact that they did amazing color and lighting studies for this movie to make sure it actually matched the OG. Because it really does. Every single scene has almost the exact same scheme as the OG. It's actually shocking. Every lamp and rock is perfect. It doesn't suffer much from that oversaturated thing that a lot of CGI heavy movies have (Jurassic World was the worst offender. Most action movies are pretty bad about not having an actual color scheme and they just make it 12pm at the equator bright or a full moon all the time).

Toothless looks like Toothless. Not perfect 1:1 but it's Toothless. This is coming from a person who made night fury drawing tutorials when they were 15. (my biggest problem with his design is actually his wings but that's a whole thing) I thought the flying scenes were fine despite the differences in camera work. It worked for what it did. Not as good as OG but it did a good job with what it wanted to accomplish.

The movie does suffer somewhat from a lack of that animated spark, as many remakes do, but it isn't so bad that it's insulting to me. The Lion King was so fucking bad it made me wonder why they even made the movie realistic, or at all, if they were going to animate the lions with an abnormal lack of emotion. Toothless, especially, isn't comically animated anymore. He doesn't nod or give those obviously disapproved looks the way he did in the OG. But again, it doesn't ruin it for me. I think the biggest problem I had was that when Toothless got his first tail, he didn't sit to feel the new tail. He just kind of..... gets up and flies. No real emotion is expressed about it. He similarly doesn't look down at Hiccup in disapproval before throwing him off, he just kind of goes "ugh" before throwing him off. (the way Hiccup screamed in joy after that first flight felt so legit I loved it lmao)

Snotlout.... y'all gotta know I'm delusional about Snotlout. I love him and he's one of my favorite side characters. He's an idiot. He's nuanced. He has a complicated relationship with his father. Me and him would be best fucking friends if I lived in Berk. And let me tell y'all this actor put his WHOLE PUSSY into this performance. Knocked it out of the fucking park. I felt like someone read my mind exactly for how I personally view Snotlout and did him justice. He literally catepults himself over a table toward the camera knocking shit off so he can talk to Hiccup at one point. I was rolling out of my fucking fancy lounger. Everyone else in the gang feels pretty good too. The twins don't really look like twins but it's mentioned as a joke. Hiccup and Fishlegs are shown to be quick friends once the barrier to the group is broken down.

Idk exactly why but the ending felt SO good. Maybe it was because they slowed down pretty heavily when the village was mourning Hiccup. They also slowed down the scene where Toothless is helping Hiccup out of bed. Everything was quite slowed toward the end. The colors felt even better. The scenes felt so good. I remember watching that outro "this is Berk" scene and.... I felt like I was just watching my beloved characters in a different lens. Call it "useless nostalgia" but it was one of the few moments where I was able to properly forget I was watching a remake and I wasn't comparing it constantly anymore. I was just having a good time. THAT is what I wanted the most. I wanted to forget I was watching a remake. I wanted to stop comparing scenes and line delivery, especially because I knew it didn't matter.

I was in the same camp as the rest of you originally. "this movie is just another derivitive cash grab remake!" I thought to myself. I blindly accepted that my beloved story would be reread to audiences that don't care about movies for any reason other than the fact that they need to keep their kids entertained for 2 hours. I changed my mind and decided to watch it for a few reasons: the director of the OG movies directs this one too. I've watched MANY interviews with him about these movies, and he has a deep passion for these movies. He puts his pain, insecurities, and struggles into his movies so he can watch a hero overcome them. His creative drive and vision is inspiring to me. Any story of his intrigues me. I wanted to know if he had something to say with this movie. The second big reason came when I was at work and noticed our Lilo and Stitch merch and our httyd merch next to each other. These two movies were released at around the same time. And Dean DeBlois directed every one of these OG movies. He left Disney soon after directing OG Lilo and Stitch. I couldn't help but wonder if httyd was a response to Disney's inevitable money grab botch of his work. Even if all it was was Dreamworks asking DeBlois to do a movie in response to Lilo and Stitch, that has a mountain of personal implications alone. Even if I don't support remakes overall, I do support being hateful and spiteful to Disney. Might add more later idk! I'm just ready for a quarter of my followers to block me after this because that's exactly what happened when I said I didn't hate httyd3 hehe :33

[cimmerian1275]

Your art is amazing! I keep finding myself just going back to stare at your work. Like how did you do that with the colors? Or when do you stop adding bold lines and do more implied ones etc.

Do you have any go-to references or tips you always go back to or would recommend?

THANKYOU!! OHHHH ART QUESTION!!!! *cracks knuckles* i havent ever really explained how i do things before, so dont be shy to ask any follow up Qs if i dont make sense!

——————

Colors??? Ohhh man, aeh, thats a fun but hard one. I started off my art years ago with just pencil on paper, black n white style! So ive gone on my own little self taught journey over the years when it comes to using actual color in art and ohh boyyyy was it a challenge.

Theres definitely some tutorials out there that explain color theory waaayyyyyy better and are more helpful than me, but ill still explain it my way for anyone whos curious about the way i use colors instead <3

At first i was pretty bad, SO for example IF I WAS PAST ME..... and i drew a purple dragon, the lighting and background id add would be purple too. Thats bad. It looked good, yes...... But it wasnt the smartest choice of lighting/background to make it so similar to the purple character id drawn.

I couldnt really see what i was drawing because everything was the same color, same saturation. It makes present me cry a little inside that i used to do that xD and i had to figure out that overtime... i didnt want whatever i was drawing to blend in to the canvas, disappear, and be really hard to see because it was all the same shade/color.

SO, i experimented >:) i have a vague goal in mind when it comes to colors. I want things to be clear to see, colors to contrast and pop and flow! If your focal point/character is blue? I try to make the background the complete opposite color, or something that compliments blue like pink or orange.

BUT!!!! BUUUUUUT!! Its not as simple as that... it can look terrible if you pick an opposite color and itll clash in the worst way possible >.> THAT, im admittedly still figuring out as i go! But ive learned that when the colors are too bright and clashing, i can reduce the saturation/make them less bright. Perhaps if i used pastel colors instead? Or something closer to grey? Maybe if i darkened this one and lightened that one theyll still stand out but also flow a bit better.

I rely heavily on my gut feelings with colors too, ill test different options all the time and mess with filters to see if i get any cool results until i land on something that makes me go "woahhhh this feels awesome". It can take actual hours just trying to find the right combination of colors...

——————

This ones a great example of a good color combo!! I tend to lean towards warmer/softer colors in my work unless im doing a nighttime scene or something with cold/fresh vibes. The dragon here is a pretty light shade, and i went with a matching light background. I did that to give it a soft/calm look <3

When i look back at my art and any of my bigger/finished works, i notice i have a running theme of finding a nice balance between pastel/light colors and bright/saturated colors.

The saturated/brighter colors are usually used for the focal point, and the desaturated/lighter ones are for the background! I can also reverse that with a saturated/bright background and a light/desaturated focal point depending on the situation!

Heres some examples of what im talking about:

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MMMMMMM LINES! Lineart, i love it. My artstyle when it comes to that kinda flip flops around a little. But i often use a thinner brush and the pen i draw with has pressure sensitivity!! So lineweight kind of just revolves around how i literally move my hand against the screen.

But when it comes to purposefully making the lines thicker or thinner though, i use bolder lines for the focal points or areas with sharp details, so they catch the eye.

Thinner or less opaque lines for outlining markings or representing fur, scales, feathers, things like that :D

——————

Tips, refs and recommendations??? OHhhhh, everything i use is specialized for helping myself reach the style/quality of art i aim to make so it wouldnt entirely help others the same way.

But i can say that for refs and tips, i save EVERY little thing that sparks inspiration or looks like it could help me draw something i find difficult later on. I have files organized for that stuff! Things for ref sheets, anatomy, tmnt-related, a file just titled "inspiration" full of anything that makes my eyes happy when i look at it, and one for kingfishers (theyre a fav of mine when it comes to finding the inspiration to design a dragon).

Ironically, i dont often use typical art tutorials so i dont have any recommendations to share because i wing-it like the menace to myself that i am xD I probably should use tutorials though, im constantly trying to improve and those would actually help. Im just, too lazy 💀

Its a great habit to save stuff that helps/inspires you for when your stuck! And just go out there and follow all the artists who inspire you, even the smaller ones. Ive seen so many unknown/underrated artists who are able to draw a certain way that id love too, just gotta hunt them down and follow them so i can keep seeing their art <3

[queen-erika-the-songful]

My personal ranking on the Barbie mermaid movies

(These are only a few thoughts I have about each of these so feel free to ask questions if you want)

6. Barbie: Mermaid Power - I mean come on I'm sure even the ones that love the DA-verse can agree with me that this one absolutely sucks. Terrible worldbuilding and lore that contradicts the movie it's supposed to be a sequel to. Songs that are super hollow and generic. Garish animation. The story had WAY too much going on to fit into the runtime. The only thing positive I have to say is that I liked the little girl mermaid being disabled and having a prosthetic fin. Too bad she's wasted in this!!! Awful awful awful no contest the worst one. Literally don't bother watching.

5. Barbie Fairytopia: Mermaidia - Sorry but I find this so weak as a mermaid movie. For starters, we only see 3 mermaid characters (Nori, Nalu, and the fake Delphine) and then a bunch of random sea creatures. Then there's Elina, who becomes a mermaid, but it's out of desperation and she's miserable literally the whole time until she gets her wings back. Then Delphine.....god just read this post to see why I hate her as a character and as a plot point. She brings down everything. Also if you think about it too hard (like I do) this is really only "half" a mermaid movie since Elina is still a FAIRY and still spends about half the runtime as such. The most this one has going for it is the VERY pretty animation and Eric Colvin's irresistible music. I'm honestly thinking about just making one of those "ambience" videos for myself where I just have the prettiest scenes and music all montaged together. Definitely not my favorite of the Fairytopia trilogy, nor my favorite of the mermaid films.

4. Barbie: Dolphin Magic - Even though I'm sick of the DA universe, this is a fun short romp. The whole "befriending a magic friend" thing reminds me a little of Aquamarine, just not as good. I think the runtime really harms this one, especially with pacing, but I guess this isn't really a "movie" so much as a 1-hour special, which is what all the DA movies really are. Anyway, I like Isla but I wish we got to know her more. She has a cute design. I also like the scenes where she teaches Barbie how to swim like a mermaid. It makes me want to hop in the pool and do the same. A cute but just "okay" mermaid film.

3. Barbie: The Pearl Princess - I think this one has the prettiest and most "underwater" animation of them all. I adore the soft colors and the lighting and all the little bubbles and things floating around. I wasn't too keen on Lumina at first, but then thanks to this confession from back in 2018 I've headcanoned her as autistic for several years now so that's neat. The other characters are also quite charming, especially the friends she makes in the salon. They all make up for the somewhat "meh/average" story. It's very enjoyable!

2. Barbie in A Mermaid Tale 2 - This was such a great sequel to an already great movie. it expanded the lore of the original in a way that raises the stakes and makes sense (well, mostly, but that's a post for another day). Merliah and Kylie's development both as a team and as individuals are done very well. Same goes for Merliah and Calissa learning to see each other's point of view. The ending and lesson are good too. Merliah giving up her shot because she's already fulfilled by doing her duty was a great choice. Awesome movie!

1.Barbie in A Mermaid Tale - How could it not be this one?! The lesson is amazing, the blending of classic fairytale tropes with a modern setting work excellently, the animation and colors absolutely pop, and the main character's journey is awesome. I love that Merliah initially wants nothing to do with all the magic mermaid stuff and goes on her journey out of selfishness but develops a sense of responsibility and justice, helping her blossom into a princess. And no character is wasted here - everyone does their part to do something. That's not always the case in a Barbie movie (like the random Kelly girls in Princess and the Pauper) so it's good to see here. The soundtrack is full of fun songs as well! I like putting them on when I'm in a summer mood. This one is just a delight to put on each and every time. My pick for the best of them all!!

[the-s1lly-corner]

I just had a very cool idea.

So imagine that Caine makes a specific bad adventure and child! reader has a nightmare about It and they go for the tadc cast for comfort ( this is platonic obviusly)

Thank you!!! :3

TADC cast x kid!reader who's having nightmares! (Platonic)

Originally I was gonna have caine be a part of this but since the child.. would like understand that Caine was the reason the scary stuff happened in the first place considering Caine literally.. announces the IHA.. you know? Woukdnt make too much sense to seek comfort from the source of fear...

Anyways

I want french fries rn but its 11pm rn

Anyways hope you enjoy!! I am so so sleepy!!

Written on mobile, I might stick to it for the foreseeable future... at least until I get a new more comfier chair to put at my computer

POMNI:

Probably the worst for comfort but I dont think shes terrible. So when you turn up at her door late one night she of course let's you in and snatch her bed. Even she can agree that Caines most recent IHA was a little on the intense side. Rubs your back until you fall asleep, and tries to make you feel less scared and alone by letting you know you werent the only one scared

Does it help?

Not sure, I guess it depends on the kid! You're choice!

RAGATHA:

Probably one of the best when it comes to comforting you! Gives you one of her softest blankets (she makes her own blankets!) As well as making sure your stuffed animal is in the bed

Makes it a point to tuck you and your plushie in to "not let the bedbugs bite". Runs her hands through your hair. Very good for any headaches you may have gotten from crying

Tells you nice stories until you fall asleep

JAX:

I think, similar to zooble, once he gets over the fact he was suddenly awoken he would be.... okay at comforting. Hes more eager to get back to sleep so he may be a little pushy in regards to getting you back to sleep. Kind of comes across as him dismissing your fears. Awkward back patting to try to get you to calm down

Hes a cranky one, I think, when it comes to sleep

Not many ideas for jax

KINGER:

I mentioned somewhere, I think in a cuddling hc... somewhere.. that kinger would put himself beteeen you and the door, effectively working as a barrier of sorts to protect you. That still stands here, even in a platinic/familial sense. Gets very into about how hes going to stand guard over you for the night while building a pillow fort around the two of you. Let's you snuggle into his robe (very soft and warm) while telling you stories he came up with... I think he would try to undo any fear you may feel around caine, since I personally think kinger is. Just used to caine. No point in being afraid of someone who could have hurt you at any time but hasnt done so... funny coming from the paranoid man

Ragatha would do the same, with the caine-fear thing

ZOOBLE:

Oddly enough they're pretty solid at comforting you! Once they get past the fact they were awaken in the middle of the night they pull you into bed. I think zooble would have fairy lights in their room, or the LED lights that you string up on your walls. Usually they have them in one color but to make you feel better they have them slowly changing into different colors. Very calming, I think. Quietly mutters that it's okay to be scared sometimes. I dont know I'm just soft for gentle older sibling zooble... offers to stay awake to keep watch over you

GANGLE:

Let's you fiddle with her ribbon, maybe

Like you know how sometimes people let another person fiddle with their hands and fingers? I think that's what it would be like for gangle

Plus ribbon has a nice texture, I think

Turns on the lights (dimly) if you're nervous about sleeping in the dark

Stays awake until you fall asleep. I think she would read a book to you. The only one who actually reads from a book. Acts out some of the scenes. Nothing too special, just some simple flair with her hands and stuff you know?

[thedirtiwalkoniswet]

I finished the Obi Wan series and wow it is... not good.

I just watched the bad batch (actually solo inbetween but that was so bad I won't mention it further) and this show surprised me with how good it was. When these characters were introduced in season 7 of clone wars I was sure I wouldn't like the show, because they annoyed the hell out of me. But then I actually got to watching the show and it was good all the way through.

So Obi Wan was a whiplash. I have a lot of thoughts.

It's bad. It's so bad. For one, it looks cheap. The main reason I think is the lighting, half the time it is so painfully obvious it was filmed in a studio, and it takes any emergence that you could've had. They also could've color graded a little, it is boring to look at. Additionally is everything so stale, nothing in the background moves, there is 0 wind essentially in the show. The budget also definetly didn't went into make up and costume design, but that is so obvious it's barely worth noting and not the worst part.

The worst part, by far, is the dialog however. The actors are great, I know they are great, but they still struggle so hard to make the dialog sound normal and they can barely do that, because it is so, so bad. They just string random sentences together that don't make sense as a whole anymore. The actors can't react properly to the dialog, because in real life you'd look at them with the most confused face, like what the hell are you talking about bro. It is a shame that great actors are wasted on terrible dialog, that could have easily been better.

Additionally is the camera work quite odd. It can be decent occasionally, I think the scene were "Leia" gets dressed was nicely done and so are some other scenes. But then you get the scenes like when Reva was climbing on these buildings, which had terrible camerawork. Don't get me wrong, there is charm in the camera not being completely stiff, but they're just shaking it around whenever a fight scene comes up or any scene that isn't completely peaceful. It is jarring and makes the show look like a fan project, and not even a good one.

The action scenes also feel slow somehow. I know I can't compare it to a cartoon, obviously not. But I can compare it to action scenes from the prequels or Andor. In Obi Wan, it very much feels like the characters are holding back, when they clearly shouldn't be. Everyone is running and moving so slowly, it only makes me frustrated to see. I fear it might be because the actors weren't given enough time to rehearse or not enough care was put into choreographing/ editing. Even the fight between Vader and Obi Wan at the end was meh, and that was for most the best part. Yeah, it's cool he can use the force again, yeah it's sad that he has to accept that Anakin is not there anymore and Vader is all that's left. But... what else? This was what the entire show led up to and it could have been better. At least the location was extremely cool.

Tragically I'm still not done. Because another issue is that it is simply not a good experience. I'm not saying it has to be a happy one, but even tragic stories can make you engaged and riled up. It was a very bold desiscion to completely change Obi Wan, considering that in episode 3 and 4, he is extremely similar. So they had to change him just to bring him back to who we knew. Usually I LOVE angst, I think it is so interesting to see characters who you love go through hard times and evolve and change. But somehow it didn't work with him at all. I blame it mostly on the writing being so in your face, so bland and without nuance. Star wars was never known for good dialog, but usually that was George Lucas' fault and he wasn't really involved in the writing as far as I know.

There are good ideas sprinkled in. But it mostly felt like somebody said "you know what would be cool to see?" and then they wrote the plot around it to make it happen. (Like that pick up driver or whatever the space version would be)

Maybe I have so much to say because it is a huge shame. It could've been good, it could have been great. And yet it is genuinely terrible, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. To me this is some of the worst star wars media I have seen out of what I watched so far. Only Solo being worse (I fucking hate that movie). BUT I do think it's salvagable. They could make a fantastic season 2, it is very easily possible if they only put more effort in the writing and maybe fire Chung Chung-Hoon.

If you like it I am super happy for you, I know I ripped it apart, but please don't let me ruin something you like, despite all of this. My uncle loved this show and I can't talk to him about the show because I am not blinded by nostalgia bait. You can tangle any familiar character in front of him and he will most likely like it. (He liked Boba Fett and I haven't seen anyone liking it yet, but I haven't watched this one either so I don't have an opinion yet)

[thebreakfastgenie]

I got a little ranking request for you: What are your Top 5 best and Top 5 worst Billy Joel music videos?

Omg okay. This is so hard!!!

Top 5 best:

Turn the Lights Back On

This is the one that makes me the most emotional. It's not even the AI younger versions of him, although those are great, but the old footage they put in at the end. Oh my god. It gets me every time. And when he turns the page from Famous Last Words at the beginning.... it gets me every single time. It's really beautifully made and I'm so glad we have it.

2. The Longest Time

This is a nice simple concept and I really love it. The old age makeup is a little goofy but it's worth it to me. I love seeing the band singing together in this one! The lyrics are romantic but the video is about the group of friends and it's nice.

3. You're Only Human

Billy Joel called this video terrible but he's just mean. It's cheesy but it makes it work. I think the cliche of homaging It's a Wonderful Life actually helps, because it doesn't take itself totally seriously. I like the narrative videos, which he would hate, but too bad. This is the only song of his that I enjoy significantly more with the video. He's great in it! He gets to ham it up and be silly and then he does the scene where he takes the kid to see the cops informing his parents that he's dead and he gets that look on his face. My heart. Playing the Piano Man riff on the harmonica is such a perfect touch. It really personalizes it and takes it from being a straight It's a Wonderful Life scenario to being a message from Billy Joel himself.

4. Pressure

This one is a really great example of surreal music videos that raise more questions than they answer. I think it's just really well-done and the effects are cool. It has some funny little easter eggs too, like "William Joel, age 29, occupation computer software."

5. A Matter of Trust

This is more of a performance video, but it has just enough narrative setting to it to make me interested. I like the rehearsal concept, even if seeing him play a guitar is weird. The comedy beat with the lady yelling at them to shut up is fun. Everyone in the street stopping to listen is predictable but it works. And the cameo from Christie and Alexa is adorable. "Okay girls, A Matter of Trust!" my heart!!

Honorable mentions that I adore but didn't make this list because I think these 5 are better: Keeping the Faith, She's Right On Time, Uptown Girl, We Didn't Start the Fire, Tell Her About It.

Top 5 worst:

Zanzibar

I don't even know what's going on here. He's released two other animated videos in recent years and those are both pretty good. This one is just weird.

2. Piano Man (1985)

I don't think either Piano Man video should exist, but between the two of them this one is worse. I hate how literally it interprets every line, I hate how brightly colored it is. I don't know if it's supposed to be comedic or it's just 80stastic but it's not dark and gritty like the song is in my head. This video represents everything he's ever said is bad about videos. I have my own extremely clear vision of the piano bar in my head from the song and this is getting in the way. Among the reasons this one is worse, it's very obvious when you look at him that it was filmed in the 80s, not the early 70s. His hair is completely wrong.

3. To Make You Feel My Love

There's no point to this, they just needed a video because they put this out as a single with Greatest Hits Volume 3. It works slightly better for Hey Girl.

4. And So It Goes

I have nothing against this it's just completely pointless. It doesn't add anything to the song. The only good part is the shot of his hands playing.

5. The Downeaster "Alexa"

I just don't like how it's edited and I really want this song to have a better video.

The only ones on the worst list I really feel strongly about are the first two though!

And then there's Sometimes a Fantasy which is both the worst and the best.

There's a video limit but I can link it.

I honestly think it's pretty well made and I really enjoy it but it's weird and it makes me feel a little gross. It just... is.

Thanks for the ask!

[quaranmine]

The Background People of Firewatch AU

There's a couple of oc characters in firewatch au that diverge from this, but early on I knew I wanted the majority of people (originally everyone) Grian encountered to be nice to him. I wanted the story to be full of people that, whether Grian saw it or not, cared enough to help. Probably because the closing lines of The Martian by Andy Weir permanently rewired my brain ever since I read it like 9 years ago:

“If a hiker gets lost in the mountains, people will coordinate a search. If a train crashes, people will line up to give blood. If an earthquake levels a city, people all over the world will send emergency supplies. This is so fundamentally human that it's found in every culture without exception. Yes, there are assholes who just don't care, but they're massively outnumbered by the people who do.”

Grian's client in the first chapter, the rich guy he's not very fond of, actually releases Grian early from a meeting because he can tell he's distracted. He's a little rude about it, but he lets Grian go because he recognizes Grian is worried about something.

The lady who accepts Grian's call when he reports Mumbo missing is sweet and calls him darling. She's the same person at the desk when Grian appears the next day to join the search, and she gently directs him to a motel to get some sleep in. She sees a man she's never met, and wants him to rest.

Scar, of course, is the whole point of the story. He was always determined to care.

The unnamed ranger who tells Grian they have to suspend the search because of nearby fires does so both candidly and kindly.

It's not a direct interaction with Grian, but the lady in the Forest Service office gives information to Scar (possibly at risk of her job since it was not allowed) to help him out on behalf of Grian.

Pearl and Jimmy, of course, are trying desperately to support Grian in their respective flashback sequences.

We learn in Pearl's flashback sequence that Grian's acquaintances in Colorado were also hoping to help support him before he ghosted them instead.

The pair of seasonal employees that come to collect Mumbo's bike are both stated to be super friendly to Grian, and try to help him with information even though they're new.

Linda, the woman working the desk at the District Ranger station, is actually nothing but nice to Grian the entire time. His perception of her is only negatively colored by his own paranoia/suspicion/grief, but reading between the lines all her actions are either kind or highly reasonable given the circumstances. Like, of course she's critical of Grian when she catches him breaking into the office, but even then she tries to gently defuse the situation.

Martinez the hotshot wildland firefighter is very happy to help save Grian, and does his best to keep trying to reassure/cheer Grian.

There's a few exceptions for people who the narrative doesn't paint in a good light. Idiots with fireworks will be idiots. Scar's boss reprimands him, but only very reasonably: Scar had been accessing information he wasn't cleared to (a massive no-no in government.) Grian's former boss is terrible towards him—rightfully upset at Grian's failure to show up to work, but expressing it with zero empathy or regards to Grian's situation.

Larry the District Ranger is displayed in a fairly bad light, but his response is mostly measured exactly with Grian's. He starts off understanding toward Grian, but as Grian begins to be more hostile, he reacts to that energy while still maintaining his professionalism. He's meant to be genuine in the scene above when he apologizes to Grian for not finding Mumbo, it's just Grian who doesn't believe it.

But like? Does this all make sense? Do you see it? There's people at every turn who want to help Grian. Nearly everyone he meets is actually kind. Grian may think that the world is out to get him, or that people are hiding things from him, but they're not. I like to think it seeps through the cracks in this story, despite the narrative being influenced by Grian's persistent self-isolation and suspicion. He may be a cynic, but I'm not.

One of my reviewers said this wasn't a story about how unfair life was, but that it was a story about love. I think that's true. I think it's about our connections to people and how we lean on them in the worst of times.

[thekingofwinterblog]

Ok so, having seen the Gameplay trailer that Bioware pulled out of their ass in the aftermath of possibly the worst videogame trailer in history, i have to say im not impressed... But i almost am.

Because they ALMOST got it right. Like all the building blocks are there, but it's always just one step off from being great.

Like the character models dont look anything the like the complete joke that was the fortnite DA trailer... But while you can tell the animators put their heart and soul into the models, they still look awful.

And it's ALL the lighting and coloring's fault.

The thing is, the models and enviornment doesnt look terrible in a vacuum... but the problem is that it ALL blends together. It's all just a mixmatch of colors and shades that makes the entire thing look like an uncoordinated mess with no rhyme or reason behind it.

Take this shot of minarathous. It's not just grey, on top of grey, but it sure looks like it. The colors, rather than contrast and embolden everything to make it look striking, instead makes it one, big, sloppy looking mess.

Here is one, single shot from Inquisition to illustrate the poiny. Notice how everything is very grey here too, but the way the lighting is, you can easily differentiate between everything, every character sticks out so much better and looks infinitly more interesting and memorablr just by virtue of not looking like they're part of the background.

It's not a coincidence that the only part of this gameplay showcase that looks absolutely stunning is Solas, because he is the only character who actually has the lighting to stand out, both when illuminated by the blue magical energy withouth the purple, white and blue mess that is now how magical energy looks, but also in the shots where he's illuminated by the veil.

I can tell you why it looks like this too.

The lighting and colorists of the development team was trying so, so very hard to make the concept art lighting translate to 3d models and enviornments... And it just doesnt work.

Maybe there is a way to make these pieces work in 3d, but this sure aint it.

Maybe the enviornments that are set in the daylight will look better, but i can tell you, that with this engine and style, every single nightshot is going to look absolutely atrocious, regardless of wheter the models look better than that horrible fortnite trailer.

Then there is the dialogue.

Now there are a lot of complaits that a lot of the dialogue is the usual by now terrible Marvel "banter" that the MCU unfortunately popularized.

You know, the quirky, dont take itself too seriously style of writing that almost never works outside the MCU pre Endgame.

But that's actually not my main vomplaint with it.

My complaint is how... Lifeless the voice actors sounds.

I just listened to these lines, and the thing that struck me is not that they're bad, but how i KNOW both Varric and Solas Voice actors are so much better than this.

"People are dying right now! You need to listen!" "People are always dying. It is what they do."

Like... These lines SHOULD work.

I know the common joke is that this is the usual terrible dialogue in the vein of "My face is tired from dealing with you", but the fact is that it's actually good on paper.

Varric here should sound like he's pleading, making one, last, final plea to his old friend Solas, reminding him that people are fucking dying all around them(Though the rest of the scene dont exactly convey that).

A plea to his humanity.

And solas throws back that he knows. He KNOWS people are dying. That's what they always do.

For anyone who knows Solas at all, this is such a good line. You dont need him to go into a spiel about how his entire reason for doing this is so that people no longer have to die all the time, that the entire reason they do die is because of him...

It should work... but it doesnt.

Solas Actor is NOT giving it his A-Game. At all. And neither is Varric's.

He doesnt sound like the emotional Solas we saw in Inquisition, and frankly neither does Varric. Any and all charisma both had are seemingly gone, replaced by two actors who make the characters sound like themselves, but eithouth the emotion that made them work.

Just hearing Solas telling Varric that this story does NOT end with his downfall just makes me think that the actor either didn't give a shit, or was bored... Which was just hammered in further when Solas just gives a pathethic scream of "Noooooo!" When his big plan is foiled.

Maybe it's that the rest of the writing is just so bad that they just gave up, or they had the same level of quality for their voice director that george lucas gave his actors during the prequel triology filming.

Either way, this really just hammered in the point for me of kind of game we're getting here... And i didnt even touch the gameplay in this post.

[bathroomtrapped]

ur art is so, so amazing, is there anyway u could do a tutorial bc I wanna draw like u so badly

i can try but idrk how to explain myself or make tutorials lol

i think my style is just a product of my brush and what im trying to get out of my art, which is trying to portray the characters as accurately as possible. i rly just want it to look like it could be a stylized redraw of a deleted scene or something

my process is kinda everywhere bc i just move on to whatever step will probably make me hate the piece less when im done with it. i draw with a more square brush (blurring marker 1 on ibis) which i def recommend. its great for focusing on shapes in ur art and it helps me not overblend/forces me to think of more interesting lines/shapes. my sketch is a thicker size of the same pen, focusing on the major shapes and proportions and i just make as many additional layers overtop of it, lowering the size of the pen and adding details as i go

once im at the lineart i usually use a site that creates color palettes based off images (usually just steal some from old catholic art) and i steal my base colors from that. it doesnt matter how terrible ur base colors look as long as they make sense and r what ur generally going for.

these were my original base, i use colored line art and shade the basic shadows using the line art mixed with the base color, highlights r whatever is the lightest color in the palette. after that i duplicate and throw it through this filter

i play w the colors and use it as a color/hue/luminosity layer on top of the original version, lower opacity and render now that theres more colors on the canvas (the filter creates more contrast between the lame base colors i mix, then i can add bounce shadows and shit).

i use a shit ton of digital cheats. single color overlay layers at the end of a piece, pizza face overlay glow, using vignettes around the border to draw the eye towards the subjects at the center, filters, color palette generators, etc. they make things sm easier so u can worry abt experimenting with other things.

i dont rly know how to explain how i do clothes or hair other than focusing on the shadows and worrying abt lights later. this is honestly the best tutorial i can think of bc in my head im just drawing what i see as best as i can with the pen i use. use a fuck ton of reference, do actor face studies, and try to experiment with ur style everytime u draw. ur never gonna learn how to use ur programs or expand if ur bogged down by trying to achieve a specific look. sometimes that thing u were nervous abt bc thats not how ur style usually works is the best thing on the piece at the end.

actually draw only what u want to draw in that very moment and use that as an opportunity to experiment however u can. i just draw chainshipping and find ways to trick myself into learning ��🏻 sorry this is so bad if u have any specific questions i can try to answer those better

edit: this is what i mean when i say just draw with whatever base colors and use the lineart to add value. i thoroughly hated this piece at this stage but once i adjusted the pallet it felt much more cohesive and i could continue on with the drawing. the best thing i can say is to have absolutely no process past the same few first steps and resign urself to a cycle of self hatred and throwing random bs at the wall to see what sticks