#He always gives me weird side eyes when I wear makeup

[the-kr8tor]

yk that post about reader babying hobie? can you write it the other way round too?

YESSS part two!!! Ly thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, R is wearing makeup, CW suggestive, CW food mention, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You come home to a dark flat, save for a lamp in the doorway, you can barely make out the shapes of your furniture. Bones aching, muscles screaming out from fatigue, you trudge the small space towards your shared bedroom. Not even bothering to put your shoes in their proper place, or even turn on the lights. Shoes haphazardly tossed somewhere, you leave it to future you to take care of.

Wondering where Hobie is, worry is etched on your face with the tiredness from today. But the emotion is washed away when you spot him snoring on the bed. A singular sock on his foot, you see your oversized jumper on him with the words that says ‘I survived London!’ on it. Checkered pajama pants on his legs, arms hugging your pillow and his cheek squished in between. His comfortable attire makes you jealous while you're still in your work clothes, all grimey from today. You could kiss his sleeping face but the heaviness in your bones says otherwise.

Blinking the tiredness away, you stand on the carpeted floors, wondering if you should even dare to wash up before slithering under the covers and over to his arms. You could go shower but you're afraid that you might collapse on the tiled floors with how your legs are about to give out from under you.

You must've been standing for a while since Hobie sensed you. He sits up, one eye open, sleep still clinging to his lashes as he scrunches his nose at your weird stance.

“Are you my sleep paralysis demon?” He jokes, voice deep and hoarse from sleep.

“What?” You barely understood his words. “Hi,” tone wavering, you still smile at him. “Sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep.”

“You just got home?” You sluggishly nod. Hobie's already standing up to meet you on your rooted spot. Hands rubbing softly on your arms, he's jolted awake when he sees your heavy eyes fighting the urge to stay open. “Go to bed—”

“I need to shower.” You whine, not from what he asks but the annoyance that you still have something to do before you could melt into the covers.

“Do that tomorrow, I don't mind.” Hobie reluctantly releases your fatigued form, footsteps quiet as he opens your drawers for fresh clothes. “Change into these and get into bed.” When you don't move to take the pajamas, he guides you gently towards the shared bed, hands slowly making you sit on the soft mattress. “I'll take care of you, please? Do it for me, yeah?”

You almost falter at his sweet words, he knows exactly where to pull your heartstrings. “You'll be sleeping next to a smelly me.”

“I always sleep next to a smelly you.”

“Hey—” you say with a weak laugh.

“Kiddin’” he squishes your face in his warm hands. “change and lie down, I'll handle your face.”

“What's up with my face?” You touch your oily cheek, “do I look that bad?”

“Never, love.” Hobie presses a careful kiss on your forehead. “Never.”

You hum into the kiss, eyes closed, you barely register the fact that he has left your side. The bathroom light almost blinds you, the rushing of the water from the tap is a lot louder at night, making you huff quietly at the sound.

As you change into clean clothes, Hobie readies everything he needs to take care of you. He was ready to tuck you into bed but he comes back to you with the blanket drowning you. Your eyes are the only thing visible, nose kissing the fabric, fighting the urge to sleep. You blink rapidly, fingers waving at him.

“You look fuckin' adorable.” He says into the dark room, save for the lamp on the bedside table. You look like you're about to meld into the bed.

“Hmm, even though I smell?”

Sitting next to you, he lifts the blanket away from your face to get a proper look at you. “Let me check.” Suddenly leaning down, he sniffs dramatically at your neck, the tip of his nose tickles your neck. Giggling, you weakly push him off. He raises his head with a lopsided smile. “Nah, not really.”

“Really?”

“Just a bit.” He clearly jokes.

“Aww, maybe I should just shower.” You begin to sit up, faking that you took his words seriously.

“Y/N.” With gentle hands, he lays you back down.

You laugh, “I'm also kidding.” Spotting your makeup remover wipes next to his leg, your heart grows a hundred times bigger. “Oh”

Hobie takes the crinkling packaging, opening the sticky flap before he grabs a wet wipe. You watch him do it all with a soft smile and tender eyes. Hand splayed on his thigh, you let his warmth seep through you as he gently and expertly wipes the makeup off your cheeks.

“You're a natural.”

“I've got a good teacher.” He says, breath fanning your moist cheeks as he leans closer to you. “‘sides, I started using them too after a show.”

You fake a gasp. “So you're the one using them all.” Poking his pajama clad leg, you press and push until his smug smile turns into a playful grin. Hands warm, he rubs the wet wipe near your eyes, careful of poking you. “Wait, I don't remember showing you how to use them.”

“Why do you think I watch you do your routine every night, hm?”

“Because you love me, dummy. And you're smitten.” Your voice is hoarse but saccharine. He taps your eyelids, prompting you to close them. The wet wipe is cold against your skin but his warm palms grant you reprieve.

“That too,” Hobie confesses like he hasn't a thousand times before. “I was also curious about all the goopy shit you use.”

“Hmm, yes, goopy shit is the right term.” You relax fully, his free hand cages you in, it's placed on the side of your head for leverage. “Make sure you get my eyebrows.”

“Of course, love.” He indulges you, lips quickly pressing sticky kisses on your now clean cheeks. The tender act has your arms inching closer to his waist, enveloping him. “Just close your eyes, I don't look good from this angle.”

“Impossible. You know that's impossible, right?” You crack one eye open to see him tilt his head like he's chastising you, but his smile says otherwise.

“Close your damn eyes.”

“No.” You giggle out, closing your eyes. He pretends to rub harshly at your brow bone.

“Brat.” Hobie sighs, not from exasperation but from the sheer sweetness in his chest.

“Love you too.”

He hums before whispering back an ‘I love you’ that's only for you to hear. Your ears pick up the sound of the package crinkling. A new wet wipe is now gently being rubbed on your soft lips.

“Your lips are dry, did you drink any water today?”

“Mm-hmm, does tea count?” You pout so he could properly clean your lips. He's concentrating, eyebrows knitted, tongue poking out from the seam of his lips.

“I'm guessing you didn't eat much today?”

“I did,” you pop one eye open to see him frown slightly. “I really did! I ate a sandwich.”

“Just one? For the whole day?”

“...yes.” Your eyes glaze over from the sheer sleepiness.

Hobie cradles your moist face, his own incredibly close to yours that you grow cross eyed at his big brown eyes. “I'm gonna make you breakfast tomorrow. A big fuckin’ one that’ll have you full until the weekend.”

“I thought you were about to take a bite at me.” You chuckle, hands holding his face, nails gently cleaning the sleep off the corners of his eyes.

“Keep doin' that at work and I'll actually take a bite out of you.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time, Hobie.”

He rubs his nose to yours, the makeup remover rubbing off on his skin. “Sleep, or I'll take a bite right now.”

“Lay down with me?” You ask quietly and sweetly whilst patting the space next to you.

“Love, I have shocker’s gun in my workshop, the day I say no to that grab it and shoot me because that ain't me anymore.”

“So dramatic—” Hobie plops himself atop you. “Next to me not on top!”

“You weren't complainin’ last time—”

“Hobie!”

[sebscore]

couple of suggestions for leclerc!reader. 1. leclerc!reader gets hit by a car and it's not looking very good, but they make a full recovery. 2. Her brothers hear that their sister has a boyfriend and later learn that the guys she's seeing is f2 driver oliver bearman (or any one of the f2 boys).

A BOYFRIEND? | CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader

warnings: this fic is situated somewhere in 2022 as arthur and ollie are teammates in this story.

author's note: thank you so much for the request, my darling! ollie isn't exactly her boyfriend in this, but they're not exactly friends either so i hope it's okay <3 let me know what you think of it!

• • • • • • •

It had been Arthur's idea to invite his family to his apartment in Italy, wanting to show off his newfound independence. Pascale, Charles and Y/N would spend a few days there before going back home to Monte Carlo. Lorenzo couldn't make it due to work obligations, but he would join them another time.

The youngest Leclerc was having a great time, apart from having to share a room with Charles as Arthur didn't have enough space for everyone to sleep individually.

It was mid day when the doorbell rang, confusing Arthur as he wasn't expecting anyone to come over. Charles and his mum were watching tv and his sister was doing whatever girls do alone in their room.

He opened the door and was surprised when he saw Ollie, his teammate. The pair had gotten along well ever since the young Brit had joined Prema and the Ferrari Driver Academy. Ollie isn't allowed to have a driver's license yet, so Arthur would often bring him to places around Maranello.

''Ollie! Hey, how are you?'' Arthur greeted him, a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance. His teammate nervously smiled. ''I'm good, mate! You?''

''Me too, thanks,'' the Monégasque noticed Ollie wasn't wearing his usual Ferrari shirt and had replaced it with a black hoodie, ''so, uh, is everything alright? I don't think we made plans or anything?'' Arthur hoped he hadn't forgotten anything important.

''Oh, uh, I'm actually here for-''

''Ollie, darling, come on in!'' Pascale interrupted the youngster, appearing from behind Arthur and urging him to enter the apartment. Arthur's confusion grew with each second passing, but he moved to the side to let Ollie in.

Charles stood up from the couch as their new guest walked in, just as puzzled as his little brother. He approached the Brit and shook his hand. ''Hi, I'm Charles. Nice to see you.''

''Nice to meet you, I'm Ollie.'' He quickly responded, hoping his sweaty palms didn't bother the Ferrari driver too much.

''Ollie, you want something to drink?'' Pascale offered him, pointing her finger in the direction of the kitchen. ''Oh, I'm alright, but thank you.'' He politely declined.

''Arthur, go and see if your sister's ready yet.''

''Ready for what?''

''Just go check on her.'' Pascale lightly pushed him to his guest room where his sister resided.

He gave everyone a weird glance, but he listened to his mother's orders nevertheless. Arthur walked quickly as he wanted to get answers as fast as possible since the reason for Ollie's appearance at his house was still a mystery.

He knocked on the door, waiting for his sister to give her consent to let him in. ''Who is it?'' He heard her question.

''Arthur.''

''Go away.''

Just like always, he ignored his sister's words and walked into the room anyway. She was spraying some perfume as she saw her brother enter, making her roll her eyes. ''I said go away.''

''Mum asked me to check if you were ready yet,'' he explained his presence, observing his sister as she paced around the room, ''wait- did you put on makeup?'' Arthur frowned, her face looked a bit different than usual.

''Yeah, so?'' Y/N bit back, not in the mood to be teased.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. ''You want to look pretty for someone?'' Despite noticing his sister wasn't in a joking mood, he opted to tease her anyway.

''What's wrong with you?'' She groaned.

''What's wrong with you, blabla…'' Arthur repeated her words, copying her tone in an overdramatized way.

''Maman!'' Y/N yelled, receiving a push from her older brother. ''Okay, sorry!'' He didn't want their mother to come all the way down there.

It was as if seeing his sister all dolled up switched a gear in his head, it made everything clear. ''Hold on- Ollie is here… you're wearing makeup… mum asked me to see if you were ready… you're not going on a date with him are you?''

''That single brain cell of yours is doing a lot of work right now, Thur.'' Y/N grabbed her handbag and walked out of the guest room, Arthur closely following her.

Ollie had set himself down on one of the chairs as Pascale kept insisting he made himself comfortable, but as soon as the Leclerc girl walked into the room, he stood up. ''Hey, Y/N.''

''Hi, Ollie.'' She blushed, the Brit having an effect on her that made the young girl all giddy inside.

''Alright, have fun you two,'' Pascale motioned for the pair to get going, ''be smart.'' She kissed Y/N's cheek, bidding her daughter goodbye.

''I know, bye.''

She waited until they were out of the door before returning to the living room, where she found her two sons still standing in the same place as earlier. ''Everything okay?''

''When were you gonna tell us our sister has a boyfriend?'' Charles asked, offended that their mother would keep such information to herself and not share it with them. ''And that it's my teammate?'' Arthur added, pointing at himself.

Pascale chuckled, amused by their cluelessness. ''Ollie is not her boyfriend, but they've been on a few dates with each other and she's been really enjoying it.'' She explained to them, a genuine smile on her face.

''She's only 17 years-old, she can't have a boyfriend.'' Arthur argued, cringing as the words left his mouth. ''Okay, she can have a boyfriend, but why does it have to be him?'' He quickly changed his mind.

''What's wrong with Ollie? He's a nice young man and his parents are very good people.'' Their mother defended the Brit, confused as to why Arthur didn't want him as his sister's boyfriend.

Arthur sighed. ''Cause I race against him! What if they get together and then they break up or something? He might push me off the track! Or what if he hurts her? Then I'll kill him on the track.'' The man clarified his disdain for Ollie dating his younger sister.

''You're not killing anyone on track, okay? They're just going on dates, you're overthinking everything.'' Charles calmed him down. He wasn't too keen on his baby sister dating a driver, but he wasn't thinking like Arthur.

''I'm more offended that she didn't tell me anything, how long has this been going on?'' Charles continued, glancing at his mum.

Pascale thought for a few moments. ''A few months, with his racing and her school they can't meet that often.'' She answered.

''MONTHS?!'' Both of the Leclerc brothers chorused, absolutely shocked this wasn't something recent. ''What do you mean months? You're telling me this guy has been trying to get into my sister's pants for months and I didn't know about it?'' Arthur said, flabbergasted.

Pascale scoldingly hit his arm. ''Keep that language to yourself, Arthur! Y/N asked me to not tell anyone until she knew it was a bit more serious between them,'' she told the two of them, ''I don't want any of that negative energy around her, okay? She's always been supportive of whoever you two are dating and you're gonna do the same for her, understand?'' Pascale held a stern look on her face.

Their mother's scolding brought them back to earth. She was right, whether they liked their sister dating a driver or not, they had to support her, just like she has been supporting them.

''You're right, mum. We're gonna be supportive.'' Charles confirmed to her, giving her a hug. They both glimpsed at Arthur, who sighed but eventually joined their embrace. ''Okay, but if he breaks her heart, I'll just lightly touch him with my car.''

Y/N arrived home hours later, right in time for dinner. Both Arthur and Charles weren't home as they were called in to go to the Scuderia Ferrari home for either some meetings or simulation work. It was late in the night when they arrived home.

She was already falling asleep when Charles came into their shared room, trying not to make too much noise, but failing. ''Charles, be quiet.'' She mumbled, her pillow covering a bit of her mouth.

''Sorry, Chérie,'' he apologized, laying down on his mattress that was spread on the floor, ''how, uh, was your date with Ollie? I saw him working out in the gym.'' He asked, curiously.

Y/N had started to doze off again, but his question woke her up a little. ''We walked around Maranello and we got something to eat, and-''

''Did he pay?'' Charles interrupted.

''Yes, he paid.''

''Good.''

''Anyway- it was really nice and we talked a lot, so, uh, I had a great time.'' She finished her answer, closing her eyes again.

Charles simply hummed, trying to find the right words to say. ''That's good to hear, you think that it's getting serious between you two? That it's going somewhere?''

''Maybe, he's a really great person and I like hanging out with him, so I hope it's going somewhere.'' She truthfully replied, feeling weird about saying all of this to her older brother.

He nodded. ''Do you wa-''

''Perceval, I want to sleep.''

''Oh, okay! Goodnight, I love you.''

''...''

''...''

''I love you too.''

''...''

[norrisleclercf1]

Brother’s Best Friend

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Norris!Reader

Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, mentions of smut, denial, slightly possessive!Carlos, probably some other stuff I’ve forgotten

A/N: F1 is back which means I’m back I hope you all enjoy

You could care less that he was your brother's best friend or used to be a former teammate. It was hard to resist him; his honey eyes, the hair, fuck, just everything about him was damn near charming. He was a walking Taylor Swift song.

Worse, your brother Lando brought you everywhere with him and Carlos. You hated it, yet you bloomed under the Spaniard's attention. Carlos loved showering you with attention, and Lando was none the wiser, believing that Carlos was treating you like a sister, but Carlos definitely didn't treat you like one when you both were alone.

You can't remember when it all started, but one night with enough alcohol to wipe out Kimi, you both hooked up. Waking the following day, you claimed you didn't remember it, but the way you could still feel his hands all over you at night was something you'll never forget.

But, to Carlos, he never once forgot how his name felt on your lips, how you practically came from his lips, praising every inch of your body. Carlos wished you remembered everything from that night, but he never brought it up and never pushed the topic.

"Come on, Y/n, just come out with us; you'll have fun. Charles, Carlos, George, Daniel, Alex, and Lily will be there. Just come out, pleaseeeeeeee!" Lando begs in your ear while you try to watch Wednesday.

"Lando, I said no. Can you please leave me alone?" You grumble, but Lando whines, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

"Why don't you hang out with us anymore? Ever since the party at the club." Lando bitches, and you tense up but quickly shake it off so your brother doesn't notice it.

"Just, the guy I'm talking to wouldn't like it." You blurt, lying without a thought. Lando's head snaps quickly, shocked to hear you have a guy.

"Really?" He asks, a smirk tugging his lips while you start cursing yourself for saying that.

"Well, fuck this guy, you're coming out." Lando smiles and pulls you off the couch while you give up, knowing it was a losing fight against your twin.

"Lando, please, can we not? I just want to stay in." You beg, trying one more time, but it's no use. Lando is already in your closet, picking out your clothes.

You sit on the edge of your bed as Lando pulls out a black shirt with mesh covering a black bra to cover your chest. Lando looks between you and the shirt.

"What?" You ask, ready for him to judge you for owning something like that.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible and with as much respect as a brother can muster, but....I need you to wear this to get laid and stop being bitchy." Lando smiles as your jaw drops open with shock.

"Lando!" You exclaim, but he shrugs and tosses it at you as you stare at your brother in shock.

He grabs a crushed red velvet skirt that had opened slits on either side so whenever you moved, it'd show off your toned thighs and hips, especially with the madonna heels that Lando just pulled out of your closet.

"Go get dressed; we leave in an hour." Lando smirks and strolls out of your room like he accomplished something grand.

But you don't argue and head to the bathroom to get ready. For your hair, you decide to do this weird updo bun with thick curls that unravel out of it slightly and leave two strands to frame your face with the wide coil. With the makeup, you decide to go with this smokey-eye but topped with this ruby red glitter on them to match your skirt. You frame your lips with this bombshell red lipstick that completes everything.

Heading to your jewelry, you stop seeing that necklace he gave you, it was a birthday present, and to you, it meant everything, but to him, it was just some gift for a teammate's sister at the time.

Picking up the necklace you admire, the gold chain, and the red pendent on the front and back always made you guess exactly what you are to him.

"For the one, I always look for." In perfect cursive, it sat on your palm; putting it down, you grabbed some silver chain and put it on, forgetting about the necklace.

Fast forward, and here you stood, surrounded by people and Lando's friends while you danced with Max and Mick, not having a care in the world.

You stop soon enough when you run out of breath, and your throat is dry; walking to Lando, you yell you're getting a drink, but he just nods and watches you head to the bar.

Your fake smile slips off quickly as you stand at the bar waiting for water, refusing to drink any alcohol for the night. Lily seeing you at the bar, makes her way toward you and taps your shoulder.

"You aren't wearing the necklace." Her comment takes you aback, and a nervous laugh rattles your body until you clear your throat.

"What necklace?" You ask, fening innocence while Lily stares at you with this, yeah, right look.

"I couldn't wear it tonight, okay, I...I told him I didn't remember Lily. I can't keep doing this to myself, alright? I mean fuck he won't even look at me anymore." You plead to her.

Lily knew everything about what happened, how you told Carlos you don't remember when you actually did and how you jumped him just to have him to yourself one more time on more than one occasion.

Lily stands there and shakes her head at you and this whole situation. After that night, Carlos threatened the other drivers and told them never to make a move and that you are his. Of course, no one told Lando, as the dumbass was as clueless as ever to the pair of you.

"Y/n, he's been here the entire night, and his eyes hadn't left you, not even when a half-naked girl threw herself at him. Honestly, this is ridiculous. Why can't you two be together?"

That was the question you wanted to avoid.

Because in the end, there really wasn't anything in your way. Lando would be supportive as he loves the two of you more than anything in the world. You know the lifestyle of an F1 driver well and know how busy they can get and wouldn't hold it against him. So why couldn't the two of you be together?

"I have a boyfriend, okay!" You yell the first excuse that comes to mind while Lily is in total shock.

"What?" Oh god, you hoped that voice didn't belong to who you thought it was, but here you are facing Carlos, whose face showed nothing but pain and heartbreak.

Lando and the others stood there too, but Mick, oh sweet Mick, stepped in quickly.

"Yeah, it's a friend of mine. I introduced her to him, and they hit off great, been what Y/n, 2 or 3 months?" Mick asks, smiling while you force the knot in your throat back down.

"Yeah." even to your own ear, it sounded pathetic. "Yeah, his name is Kristopher; been together 3 months now." You smile brightly, knowing you fooled everyone or hope you fooled everyone.

Lando knew Kris as he's seen you and Mick hang out with him constantly; he never knew you two were that close. But Mick quickly texts Kris to tell him if Lando needs evidence.

"Woah, I didn't know Kris was the guy you mentioned earlier. Why didn't you just tell me?" Lando asks, slightly hurt by his twin's secret.

"It's new, Lan, besides you're always busy, and he works too, so it's never been a good time to introduce him properly as my boyfriend." You explain while the others just listen or have conversations of their own.

"Still, Y/n, why wouldn't you tell me I thought you and-" But Lando stops talking when he gets this panic look on his face but stops; shaking his head, he just brushes past you to the bar getting a drink.

You couldn't be in this room anymore; the music, the smell, how the heat was suffocating you, all the eyes on you, it was too much.

Pushing people aside, you rush upstairs onto the private deck; no one ever used it as they preferred to be in the club partying, then somewhere silent and outside for prying eyes.

"Go away, Lando; you made it very clear you aren't happy with me." You yell from your spot when you hear the door open, filling the quiet space with the heavy bass, but it soon grows quiet again.

"Is it true?" Who knew 3 words could make your heart break more than anything.

"Go away, Carlos," a soft whisper is all you can conjure up with him, knowing your voice would betray you.

"I asked if it was true?" He repeated again; this time, his voice was closer. You didn't need to know how close; you could feel the heat rolling off his body, the way his deep smokey cologne made your throat close slightly, wanting nothing more than to pull him into you and bury yourself in that scent.

"Stop." You whisper, hanging your head in shame, hearing Carlos's ragged breaths, either of anger or hurt; you weren't sure.

"No, I won't stop, dammit." He growls and turns you to face him, his normal honey eyes darker, skin flushed, and hands tightening on your arms, making you flinch.

"Carlos, please." You plead the way your voice croaked in the end, has Carlos's hands slipping off your arms, and you feel the familiar weight of his body pressing against yours.

"I was too late. Wasn't I?" He asks, those hands trailing up your body and to your face making you look him in the eyes.

"Yes-" your voice breaks, but you swallow, gathering the courage again. "Yes, you were late, Carlos."

You can see the moment he stops breathing, his chest stops moving, and his tight throat makes his muscles flex, but the jagged breaths start all over again.

"No, no, Mi Cielo, I'm not. That's not true. We can start over, I promise. Please let us start over, Mi Cielo, don't walk away from us; we aren't temporary. We're permanent." He begs, kissing you, pouring in all his heartache.

You shove him off you as tears flow down your face, no longer holding it together.

"Everything is temporary; this was merely one of those things." You sob, smearing your makeup and tears all over your face, no longer caring about holding it together.

"Just one favor, please? I need to hear you say it once; tell me you love me." He whispers, knowing he needs to hear it from your lips once.

You stare at each other, everything slamming into you at once the late-night talks at the tracks, the necklace, the night together, your feelings, his feelings, love. It all hit you at once.

"I love you, Carlos." It was so soft that it made Carlos question if you even said it, but you did.

Carlos steps forward and pulls you into him. Leaning down, he kisses you in such a way you feel like you are melting. His hands travel all over your body, memorizing how you feel, taste, and smell; he needs to know what it feels like once more. He pulls away gently and pecks your lips one last time.

"No matter how hard you fight, you'll always be mine." He whispers, ripping his body off your in a painful, torturous way as he disappears down the stairs, leaving you stunned as the tears slip down your face.

[httpknjoon]

eagle-eyed | ksj

plot | That time Jin saw you arriving on set with someone else.

word count | 805

genres | fluff(?)

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | my first drabble about them in their pre-relationship era! this one's short but enjoy reading!

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

It was around the first week of your filming for your second movie together, Lonely People.

Jin was just having a small chat with one of the crew guys from the sound department when he noticed an unfamiliar car arriving at the set. It’s not like he knows every vehicle in the set but this one caught his eye. It’s one of Bentley’s latest releases. So, whoever it is in that car does have a thick pocket. But he could not tell who it was. The glasses were tinted very dark.

Additionally, it was a very early call time, before four in the morning to be exact. The skies were still in deep shade of blue.  The scene he is about to shoot with you includes a beautiful sunrise, that’s why.

When the car stopped in one of the less crowded spaces, a bit distant from where was Jin standing. he was surprised to see you got off the passenger side of the car. You were wearing a loose white button-up shirt, tucked in your high-waist jeans. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, which is fine since you still have to go in the makeup chair before getting in front of the camera.

He watched your back leaning in inside the car once again, as if talking to the mystery driver, before closing the door. Even though it’s a little dim, Jin catches a small glimpse of the driver. With a medium-sized coffee in hand and a shoulder bag on the other, you walked in the direction of the parked trailer. Jin said goodbye to the crew member he was talking with before following behind you. 

“Hey, bub.” he greeted you.

“Oh, hello, Jinnie. Good morning.” Turning around, you smiled before leaning in to give him a friendly cheek kiss.

He didn’t mean to be weird. But that short interaction gave him a small sniff of a strong scent in your hair. It was familiar and he could tell that it was men’s shampoo. He tried to shake off any thoughts bubbling in his mind. Instead, he asked,

“Where’s Hailey?”

“She’s coming. We came with different cars, a friend drove me here,” you replied while typing in your phone before sipping in your coffee.

Jin reiterated, “A friend?”

His strange tone made you turn around to look at him. You stared at his face like you were studying his expression. He simply grinned.

“Yes, Jinnie. A friend,” you repeated, squinting, before walking again.

Jin continues to follow behind you until you stop in front of your trailer. He spoke again, “Well, your friend looks like the popular Kim Taehyung.”

Kim Taehyung is another well-known name in the industry. He is one of Hollywood’s favorite heartthrobs. Other than his works, he is also popular in gossip magazines with his ever-changing dating rumors. He is often captured by paparazzi hanging out with various actresses and personalities. His rumors often paint him as a womanizer.

As if the name was something illegal, you immediately looked around before pulling Jin, by his shirt, inside your trailer. You locked the door and eyed him.

You sighed, “Okay, it’s him. We’ve been seeing each other for like weeks now.”

Jin never knew how hard it was not to slump his shoulder until now. He didn’t want to look like he was disappointed or jealous because he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He. Wasn’t. 

“And I really like him. He seems very nice and sweet too. Plus, we are enjoying the company of each other. But it would really suck if the media gets their hands on us. So, I’m begging you, Kim Seokjin. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Pleading, you looked at him.

And your eyes. Your eyes were doing those things on him. Again. Every time you look at him, he always sees those sparkles that he cannot see with anyone else. It does things in him that usually include a million butterflies playing around in his stomach. 

Feeling something stuck in his throat, he cleared his throat. The anxiety is written all over your face and he can understand why. Dating is hard in Hollywood. Privacy doesn’t exist for everyone here. But if you manage to keep a relationship secret, it can be really nerve-wracking to maintain it. And you saying this to him meant that you truly trust him. So, Jin exhaled through his nose. He raised his hand and acted to zip his mouth before throwing the imaginary key away.

He spoke, “I saw nothing, bub. What are you saying?”

Your expression relaxed while the corner of your lips turned upward. You wrapped your arms around his waist,

“Thank you so much, Jin. I appreciate it. A lot.”

“No problem, bub.” Jin hugged you back as he whispered, hoping it would hide whatever he was feeling.

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

[mo0nfics]

Dress - Max verstappen

Ship: Max Verstappen × fem!reader

word count: 1771 words

warnings: fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol.

Au: This was my first ever proper smit chapter. Please do give me suggestions how I can write better and send me requests and suggestions for more one shots.

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Getting into a f1 team as a staff and becoming good friends with the drivers has the advantage of partying till late hours and disadvantage of still working the next day with a bad hangover.

Today was the same as every Sunday night. A race ends, the winner gets the trophy and the party begins.

I had gotten close to Max after I joined red bull as an engineer. We had interacted when I was doing an intership but we got pretty close after I got a proper contract to join red bull.

Since I had gotten close to Max, he had introduced me to most of the racers on the grid. Lando Norris being one of them.

Lando and I became friends soon after we met and got close to becoming best friends. Our relation was more like siblings unlike mine and Max's.

I am unsure of how my relationship with Max is. We are friends but there are moments I feel like there is something more. I think I may have caught some feelings for him.

The race has ended well, Max with another p1 win, which mean that partying tonight would feel fun like most of the nights.

I check myself in the mirror if my dress was perfect and my makeup looked perfect.

I was wearing a black short dress that ended up mid way of my thighs. The dress was sexy yet elegant at the same time, it could be worn in a formal event and you could follow it up for the after party as well. There was some shimmer that could catch the eyes of the people around but not too  much to blind them.

I checked the time to know I was as always late to the party. I rushed in the club trying to find my people, Max and Lando, one would be chilling at the bar and another would be taking pictures of everyone.

I spotted Lando standing on a chair taking picture of Carlos.

"Hey Guys!" I said disturbing them from their photo session. They looked at me annoyed but then realised it was me and greeted me back with "Hi y/n", Carlos looked back at the camera as Lando kept telling him to look at it, "Max is with some guys near the bar" said Carlos still looking at the camera. I replied with a "Thank you!" And walked away.

I spotted Max who was with a few racers and a girl. A GIRL.

I felt weird about it but ignored it, it wasn't like he was flirting with her or anything, right. Right?

I walked towards them trying to keep my emotions inside me and failing successfully as Max asks me, "are you fine?" To which I just nod. "I'll get myself a drink" max follows me to the bar to which I say "you don't need to come with me" it sounded a bit rude for my liking. Max just ignored what I said and was still with me.

I ordered my drink and max sat on one of the bar stools looking at me. "Who was that girl?" I asked something I didn't want to ask but I couldn't suppress my curiosity. "She's Lance's girlfriend" I questioned him as soon as he finished the word girlfriend, "why were you so close to her?" I sounded jealous but fuck it, I didn't like the way that girl was being so close to Max. "I don't know, y/n" he sighed.

I drowned my drink faster than I would usually and ordered another one getting a look from Max telling me ' I'm not fine'.

I know I'm not fine, I think I like Max, I know the feelings aren't given back, it's a literal one sided thing. I feel weird how I bought this dress with him in my mind, so I could impress him and he wouldn't even care about it.

I am someone you cannot trust with alcohol and yes, I have a bad tolerance thats why it I look a little to out of my mind, Max would be the one following me to the bar to keep me in check and I hate how much he takes care of me (I don't really hate it, I'm just frustrated as fuck).

I had ordered my third drink, gulping down the last two, making me already tipsy, just a little, okay not just a little. Before Max could say anything I had ordered my drink.

Max took the drink even before it could reach me and started sipping it slowly, "you'll regret it" he said softly knowing how stubborn I could get he didn't even give me a chance to speak.

I just looked at Max, more like stared at him. His eyes were so blue and pretty, he lips were the perfect colour of pink. Gosh I wanted to kiss him so bad.

When I was teenager my moto was 'YOLO'.  A bit cringe  and cliché but it did the work. I obviously had a few regrets but those regrets turned into memories that I love reminiscing over.

So I did what my teenage self would do. I cupped his face and kissed him. I knew what I was doing but I couldn't control it.

Max pulled back immediately, "Y/n" he looked into my eyes, "you'll regret it" I shook my head, "i'll regret if I don't do anything" and the next moment Max kissed me.

I was a bit shocked at his response but I kissed him back, moving my lips along with his going in a rhythm, one that could not be copied.

My hands travelled to the nape of his neck and then one of my hand playing with his hair pulling him closer.

His hands travelled up and down my back. Feeling every inch of it.

We broke the kiss due to the lack of oxygen entering our lungs. "Fuck, I wanted to do this for so long" max whispered, I kissed him with love rather than lust.

Max's lips left sloppy kisses going towards my neck, sucking on a spot to mark me his. I softly moaned and bit my lips, rolled my eyes and tilted my head back feeling the pleasure.

"Max, let's go somewhere private" I whispered trying to supress a moan. Max nodded and kissed my lips again making me melt, he pulls back and takes my hand leading me to his car.

Before he opened the door to the back seat he asked softly catching me off gaurd "Y/n, you won't regret it, right?" I looked into his eyes, "I'll regret not doing this with you", he smashed his lips onto mine roughly, like he wanted to do this all along. Like he couldn't get himself to stop.

He opened the car door and he went in hastily, I went in after him, he motioned me to sit on his lap. I faced towards him, his hands caressing my inner thighs, kissing me roughly. I moaned softly at this sensation. My hands resting on his head bringing him closer.

Max swiftly layed me on the seat, keeping one my legs on his shoulders. He kissed my inner thighs, I wanted to close my legs at this new but familiar feeling.

"Max" i moaned as he kissed my inner thigh, gently placing his fingers on top of my clothed heat. I moan in ecstasy. I wanted him to touch me, I wanted him to ruin me.

The moment he slides off my panties and says looking at me in the eyes "do you know how bad I wanted you" and starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, "fuck.....mmmh.....max" I moan feeling his fingers entering me. He slides off the left strap of my dress and starts caressing my breasts, feeling my hard nipples and pinching them, making me moan louder. I held onto the back seat for life not trusting myself with my body.

I felt a knotting feeling in my stomach, my toes curling, my moans getting louder, "max" i breathed "I'm gonna come" I said and moaned as his fingers went faster.

I came with a loud moan, probably the whole area heard it.

"Max" I said seductively "I bought this dress so you could take it off" and I felt him tensing under my skin. Max kissed me before sliding of my dress, checking out my body "You're so pretty" Max whispered in my ears before kissing my neck, I tilted my head towards the opposite side to give him more space.

"I want you so bad" I whispered, touching his bare chest and and then travelling down to unbutton his jeans. He helped to pull them down to his knees and slid his boxers till his knees.

I pushed him to the seat and sat on his laps. He didn't utter a word, he held onto my ass and looked into my eyes. Gosh, his gorgeous blue eyes.

He helped me enter his cock into my mine. I hissed at his size, he kissed my lips, massaging my breasts, "fuck" I muttered as I started grinding my hips slowly. He groaned and held tightly on my ass moving me faster. Our moans filled the car. I was pretty people could see our silhouette from outside. I moved my hips faster.

He swiftly put me under him, and pushed deep in me, "fuck" i moaned.

"You're taking it so good" he groaned and increased his pace. He wrapped his hands around my neck going deeper inside me. My hands on his back, making my mark on the back.

I feel another orgasm coming, curling my toes, "don't do it yet" he said and went in faster than before, my moans were uncontrollable.

He came to my ear level caressing my body, putting pressure on my clit by his thumb. "do it" and as on cue I came all over his cock. He took it out from inside on came on my waist.

He kissed my forehead. "You want go in or go to the hotel" he said pulling his boxers and jeans up. "Let's go back and cuddle" he nodded and then gave me another kiss before handing me my panties and dress. "Let's go cuddle, then" he said and got out to sit in the driver's seat. I wore my clothes hastily and sat on the passanger seat. "I've always wanted to do this" I said holding his hand, he put a loose strand behind my ear and kissed me, "you're the best thing I've ever waited for".

[avalil18]

Different but still the same

Summary: you and Joe see each other again at your parents barbecue and you both still have a spark.

Warnings: fluff, kissing

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Being back in Athens for the summer was really nice! It was only mid June and the sun was shining and no clouds in the sky. Your parents every year host a start of summer barbecue filled with neighbors, cousins, and friends and family all crowded in what little fenced in backyard.

You were getting ready in your bathroom curling the ends of your hair and putting final touches on your makeup. You were wearing black Jean shorts and a black short sleeve bodysuit. It snatched your waist perfectly with your shorts. You slid on your shoes and headed out your childhood bedroom after down with getting ready. Walking down the stairs you see your parents in the kitchen getting everything ready inside and outside. “Hey hon!” Your mom says. “Hi! How’s it going you say?” Your mom walks over to you and hands you a few plastic cups and says “good! But do you mind putting these out for me outside?” “Sure” you say. Once placing those out people started to arrive. Most of your friends are on vacation so it’s really just you and your parents friends who always integrate you about your love life and work which you don’t really love talking about. The only people you would talk to are the Burrows. Robin and jimmy burrow who have known you since you were 4 years old. They always thought of you as a daughter and love seeing you. You always feel like you could talk to them about anything. They have a son who of course is the towns most prized possession. Joe burrow the son of Robin and Jimmy and QB1 for the Cincinnati Bengals. You have had a crush on him since you were 6 years old but of course let go of it when you went to college. You still thought he looked cute and now more mature.

After a while more people start to arrive and you are so excited when you see Robin and Jimmy! “Y/n?” Robin exclaims. “Robin!” You say back as you go to hug her. “How have you been?”she asks. “I’ve been good! Working a lot!” You say as you also go and hug Jimmy. “What do you do for work?” Jimmy asks. “I’m a speech therapist for kids!” You say. “Y/n that’s amazing! I know you always wanted to work with kids!” Robin says. After a few minutes of catching up with the burrows something catches Robins eye. “Joe, over here.” She says and tells him to come here. You turn around and see him. Joe the person you had a crush on your whole childhood and is now standing right in front of you. “Y/n?” Joe asks as he goes and hugs you. “Hi Joe!” You say hugging back. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!” He says. “I’ve been good! Working you know!” You say smiling back. Just before Joe could answer back your mom calls you from the other side of the backyard to meet some new friends she meet at her club. “One sec mom!” You turn your head back to Joe and say “sorry,but catch you later?” He looks at your mom then at you and says “Yeah.” You brush his arm with your hand and give a warm smile before walking away.

Joes POV

She was just as beautiful as I remember. Y/n the girl I have been in love with since a little boy. Her smile is just as gorgeous as I remember and her laugh fills the air with love and joy. We haven’t talked in two years well some texts here and there but that’s really it. I think about her all the time. Which might sound a little weird but she made me who I am today. She taught me how to be myself and not care what others think. She taught me not to fight back and stay calm because let’s just say I didn’t always think before I did something. She was my best friend. We kinda just fell out of contact because of our different paths in life. I was so happy to find out y/n was back in Athens for the summer. I thought this is my chance to do what I’ve always needed to do. Tell her how I feel about her and that’s exactly the plan.

Back to present

Your mom and her friends talked for a while and you just stood there. You were was thinking about Joe.

After dinner everyone heads inside to watch college football. You have no interest in football unless Joe is playing. You decided to clean up the mess in the kitchen instead of watching. As you were wiping the dirty dishes in the sink you could feel a pair of eyes on you. Those ocean blue eyes just staring trying to figure you out. You didn’t look up and see joe knowing it would ruin the moment so you just continued cleaning. After a couple more dirty dishes put away you decided to step outside onto the back porch to get some air. You put your drink on the bug wood fence and just stared out into the backyard thinking about Joe again and how crazy life has changed. After a few minutes out there you hear the sliding door open then close. You knew it was Joe. “Hey!”he says. “Hi!” You answered back. After a few moments of silence you speak up. “So tell me burrow, how does it feel being in the NFL?” You smile. Joe laughs and says “it feels pretty good!” You both start laughing and just stare into each others eyes. “Listen y/n I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a really long time.” He gives you a look and you could tell he was nervous. “What I’ve been meaning to tell you is-” you both turn to the sound of the sliding glass door open. “Sorry guys, but y/n do you mind come saying goodbye to everyone. Oh and Joe I think your parents are leaving too.” Your mom says. “Ok” you and Joe both say. As you walk back in you say “so what is it that you wanted to tell me?” He looks at you and goes “oh! Don’t worry about it.” “Oh um, ok.” You say kinda confused he doesn’t want to tell you anymore. As you say your goodbyes to everyone Robin and Jimmy come give you a hung and they tell you that you are welcomed over anytime. You smile and say thank you. Joe gives you a little wave to say goodbye and you wave back and close the door. After cleaning up a little more you say good night to your parents and head upstairs. You shower and put on your pjs followed by putting on a crew neck and your glasses. As you are getting into bed you hear a thud on your window followed by another and another. You are confused on what is going on so you open the window. You look down and couldn’t believe who was standing on your lawn in pitch black. It was Joe. “Joe! What are you doing!”you say trying to be quiet. “Sorry, but do you mind coming down. I need to talk to you.” You contemplate going down and finally agree. You slip on your Ugg’s and head out side. “What do you need to tell me at ten o’clock at night Joey?” You ask. “What I’ve been needing to do for a long time y/n.” He pulls you into his embrace and wraps his right arm around your waist and puts his left hand on your neck pulling you into his lips. You are taken back for a sec but stay kissing him. You couldn’t believe it. You are kissing Joe burrow. The one you have had a massive crush on since you were a little girl. After probably making out for five minutes you pull back smiling. “that was a good answer, burrow!” You say. “Thanks!” Joe says. “Look y/n I have always loved you. I know we fell out of touch but I can’t stop thinking about you. You have always been the one for me. The one I want to wake up to every morning and the one I want to fall asleep next to. The one I want to laugh with and the one I want to cry with when I watch The Notebook. You’re the one I want y/n.” Joe says looking into your eyes filled with tears. You wipe his tears as tears begin in your eyes. “Want to hear something?” You ask with a laugh. Joe laughs and says “what!” I have always loved you too. Ever since we were six years old and you were teaching me how to throw a football. You have always been my person even when we didn’t talk. I would walk into a grocery store and find one of your favorite foods and think to myself “Joe would like that!” You laugh and say “I love you burrow!” And pull him into a kiss. As you were full on making out with Joe you both hear claps and cheers you look around and see yours and joes parents. They were so excited you guys finally confessed. You and Joe both looked at each other.

You and Joe just laughed and pulled each other in for a loving hug and faded into the night.

———————

Authors note: Ahhhhh so cute! They both found each other again yay!!! I will be posting a few more stuff these next couple days hopefully!🩷

[cornerstoreclown]

Laundry Day

Summary: This is a short one-shot (2830 words, approx.) where the Reader (Gender Neutral) has an undomesticated killer clown stopping by infrequently to use their shower and get his clothes cleaned. Some light domesticity, which is quite a feat, given this wild guy!

Trigger warnings: None this time, unless you really don’t like laundry, which is understandable. 

Author’s notes:  This was absolutely the first thing I wrote on a whim while trying to find my feel for Art. It feels very much like a toddler trying to learn to walk, so bear with me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated! It would be nice to know I’m not just filling up an empty room with no one in it. I hope to do some NSFW soon! 

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Art was kind of hard to pin down. For anyone to really pin down, honestly. Those that knew him feared him, except you.

You can’t remember the exact date, but it was last year in October, and it was in the final week of the month, you think. That’s when you met him–that strange black and white clown who didn’t utter a single word. He was dressed up walking around the streets with a giant black trash bag slung over his shoulder. It was hard to miss him–he was covered head to toe in gore and dirt and mud. Poor thing looked miserable, and the wet flopping sounds of his shoes as he walked sounded a little uncomfortable. 

Very clearly you can recall when he laid his eyes on you, and the way that he looked like he wanted to tear you apart, limb from limb. He approached you, and you hadn’t moved. Even when he stood a few mere inches away from you, then made the choice to jump at you to try and see if you flinched, nothing. That made him curious. Why didn’t you react? Most shrieked in horror or resorted to slinging insults. 

“I… Have a washer and dryer back at my place. You wanna use it?” You asked him. 

It was that single question that changed the trajectory of your entire life. 

 You didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation in your body that night, and to this day, you still don’t. Some things didn’t change. 

Pan over to present time, months upon months later, where you’re in the same spot as you were the night that he took you up on that offer, sitting on a tiny stool in the laundry room with some clothes you were folding to put into the basket in front of you, spacing out until you hear the sounds of someone approaching. The bare footsteps are ones that you recognize, and you’re confirmed in your suspicions when you see him wearing nothing but a cotton white towel and his standard makeup. It was a little weird seeing him out of his outfit at first, but you’re used to it by now, and so is he, at you seeing him like this. 

Evil was taking up residence in the vessel of a fleshy body that donned black and white. At first you wondered if he was human, but the longer you both spent together, you soon came to realize that he was something supernatural, and the more knowledge you had, the more questions it gave you. Why of all people, did he let YOU live? What did he see in you? 

Art could have killed you. You knew this, and he knew this. It was a mutual understanding, but where else could a notorious killer have a place to hide, rest, have laundry done, take a shower, and eat all in one place without a care? You didn’t get in his way, and while you weren’t necessarily a murderer, you were at the very least complicit by giving the stray and feral clown a sort-of-but-not-really home. 

“Hey, buddy! You look great.” You flash him a smile. “Feel better after the shower?” You’re never short of amazed at how he manages to keep his makeup so pristine. It always seemed to be in a flawless condition, even when he was looking rough. 

Art takes a few seconds, raises his hands out wide to his sides to express how refreshed and brand new he feels, then drops them, giving an enthusiastic nod, eyes closed as he shows an even wider smile. You can see the flash of his teeth that look like they haven’t been brushed for at least... a while. He then brings his hands up to the front of him and gives a gentle clap, interlacing his fingers thereafter. The clown then gives you a few hopeful blinks and an innocently pleading look with a tilt of his head, looking at you, and then the washer and dryer. 

“Oh, no,” You laugh. “It’s not ready yet. Still isn’t done with the wash cycle. You got your clothes really bloody, Art.”

And just like that, the puppydog-like eyes Art has been giving you disappear as he scoffs silently and impatiently. The clown’s arms go to fold across his chest. 

“How many people did you kill exactly to get it that messy, Art?”

He gives a shrug and a turn of his head, as if asking for you to guess. 

“Two?” 

He gives you a ‘more’ gesture, hand held out and fingers wiggling which would otherwise look like he was telling you to come closer. 

“Three?”

He’s still indicating for you to keep going. 

“Four? Five?”

He raises his hand and tells you to stop, raising his finger. 

“Five?” 

A shake of his head no. 

“Four, then.” 

He points at you. You genius, you! You got it right! He’s smiling now again, clearly proud. He even gently claps for you. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You answer. You’re not really feeling one way or another about it. The initial shock has kind of worn off. You stare down at the clothes in your lap briefly when you see Art staring down at the basket. 

“Yeah. I’m doing my own laundry. Folding it is a little bit of a pain, but I’m almost done.” And it’s true, you were very meticulous with folding. Normally you’d just have your clothes in the basket and unfolded, but you were trying to be a little more diligent instead of just fishing out what you washed the week before and putting it on. You’ve been struggling a little doing it, too.

The clown begins to approach you, and is rather leisurely at that. He’s relaxed and in his element here, familiar with the environment. 

Familiar with you. 

That makes your heart flutter a little, your mind in a daze that’s short lived, because Art is now close enough to you that you have to give him your full attention. Sometimes you still wonder if each time he visits will be the last time, and that one day he gives into that irresistible longing which ends with him pulling your intestines out of your lower abdomen like he were performing one of those endless magic scarf tricks. He’s thought about it, and while he hasn’t told you, you know. Maybe it’s a kind of unexplained psychic link that you swear you have with him nowadays, or maybe it’s just the simple fact that at the end of the day, he is what he is at his core–a predator. And you’re just prey. 

You tense up a little when he leans down in front of the basket of folded clothes, and you watch him come close. 

“Oh, you want to.. Help me fold clothes?” 

He doesn’t answer, instead lifting up the laundry basket in front of you, and before it fully registers in your head what he’s doing, it’s already too late.

“Hey–No, no, Art, don’t–!”

Almost thirty minutes of folding, spilling right on top of you as you were about to stand up and try to stop him. Piece after piece of clothing falls on you, around you, and all around at your feet from where you’re sitting. You even see him pretend as if it was all by accident, looking shocked, even as he tosses the laundry basket off to the side where the plastic container hits the wall and clatters to the floor. He likes to be funny sometimes, but other times, it’s like he’s testing you. 

Your heart rate immediately speeds up and your muscles tense as frustration makes your blood simmer. But it dies just as quickly as it rises, a flame snuffed out as he watches for your reaction, as if wanting to see if you’d let your anger get the best of you. As if that’d give him incentive to strangle you with one of your own sweatshirts, should things go south. 

He was a jokester at heart, and that was part of who he was. Often when he was here, he’d ruin something because he’d think it was funny, or he’d just be generally chaotic and straight up unhinged. One time a few dishes were broken, then one day he brought home a half chewed on rabbit you think he caught, a few months ago he took your entire collection of knives that you used for cooking, no doubt to stab and murder someone with. You remember that he took all your razors from your bathroom too. Another time, he took your toaster? Literally just walked out of the house with it in that Mary Poppins black trash bag of his. What was yours was also his when he came to visit, and at the end of the day, you know it was better that he fucked with the things in your house instead of you. In this instance, it was something less offensive than destruction or theft–he just foiled your attempt at trying to be a little better with your clothes. 

Instead, you just sigh, and look up at him. He’s tilted his head back, mouth open wide, eyes closed, pointing at you, silently laughing hysterically. You just know that if he had a voice, it would be bouncing off the walls right now.

Your lips thin out into a small line, lifting upwards into a faint but tired smile. Art was always a reminder to you to maybe not take things so seriously… After all, you might not wake up tomorrow. 

“Funny.” You give a soft chuckle. Art is now slapping his knees as he’s leaned forward, still pointing at you. He’s got some audacity, you think, standing there in nothing but a towel, but you just shake your head and keep your smile present. You’re not going to go back to trying to refold the clothes. So much for trying, you’re just going to shove them haphazardly in your basket and put it on your bedroom floor and keep pulling from it until there’s practically nothing left. Fuck that. You tried, and therefore no one could criticize you. 

A hand with wiggling fingers is out in front of your face suddenly, and when you glance up, Art is now looking down at you. You take his hand with no hesitation, knowing that if you only rejected him, he’d keep putting his hand in your face until you listened. When you take hold of it, his grip is tight. Tight to the point where it’s almost painful. He yanks you up to your feet out of the pile of clothes and you have no choice but to glance up at him. He’s taller than you, standing at what you guess is a little over six feet tall. Being so close to him always manages to take your breath away at some point. 

“Thanks, Art.” 

He gives you a pat on the shoulder, then grips it firmly to where it hurts a little, and gives you a few gentle shakes before letting you go. It’s a little jarring, but you’re fine with it. You still keep your expression pleasant, and had your hand rested overtop of his until he decided to let go. You give a few laughs. 

“Hey, I didn’t get the chance to ask you right away when you came in, but where is your friend? Is she okay?” 

The little girl.

Sometimes she was here, sometimes she wasn’t. She left messes of her own in your house, and they were often unsavory ones that you weren’t sure what they were, and you didn’t like dwelling on them. Liquids, mysterious chunks of sticky substance, among other things. Art however, thought she was a high class comedian, and so you went with it. She meant well in her own way, you suppose. But like all children, she had a habit of getting into things she didn’t need to be in. It was just another level of stress for you, so as much as it’s a relief that she’s not here right now, you still can’t help but worry a little. That was Art’s friend. She brought him joy. And what made Art happy was good. 

The clown’s demeanor shifts a little at that, to which he stares at you for a few seconds before once again asking for your hand, to which you give him it. This time, the grip is much tighter than the one he used to pull you up with. This is the same kind of grip that you just know was amplified even further to rip open torsos and rip faces clean off to the bone. You feel fortunate that he’s shown restraint, and that he cares enough for you to deliberately not want to hurt you. He leads you from the laundry room to the next room over–the living room. Your living room. 

The living room is pretty plain and standard, the main attraction being the couch, coffee table, and what he’s gesturing towards in front of both of those things–the flat screen. 

“Oh, the television! Yeah, of course.”

He sits you down on the couch first, before seating himself. He reaches for the remote on the table and surfs the channels until it lands on the news, displaying the show of a cleaned up scene of the crime stained with blood out on a neighborhood street from what you recognize is the next county over. 

LOVING FAMILY MAN FOUND DEAD OUTSIDE OF ESTATE, the headlines read, before going on about how a man was found outside of his home, arms chewed on and with a few pens jammed through his eyes straight into his skull. Following the details, there’s the show of a single tiny hat, one that you immediately recognize that would have a pigtail jutting out of it. 

So, that’s where she was. Did anyone actually see her? Could she only kill people that could see her? There was no sketch provided, nor is it seeming as if there's any sense of awareness as to who the hat belonged to in the news report. You knew that she was selectively visible to certain people, but what determined that? Art can’t help but silently laugh and point at the screen, going so far as to reach out over to you to show you the answer to your question, and most certainly for you to also appreciate his friend’s handiwork. You laugh out of politeness, though you’re not really feeling one way or the other about it. Your head is swirling with questions as you try to figure out the logistics of the case. Was that actually her hat? 

Just as soon as the news of the murder was on the television, it moved on. Local news tended to not dwell on topics for too long. They had a list of updates to go through and a short time to allot for it. 

“Stay tuned for the upcoming documentary on the infamous terror on the streets every October–The Miles County Clown. We suspect he’s back. More at eight.” The news reporter says. 

Art enthusiastically points at the television while looking at you, and you give him a nod of acknowledgement. 

“Glad you’re getting the attention you deserve.” You tell him, and he gives you an incline of his head and a smile, before showing how pleased he is with the chef's kiss gesture. You actually do genuinely laugh at that. His body language was always… Charming. 

Advertisements start playing and there’s just the weather and now national news up next until eight. During that time, Art reaches behind you and puts his arm on the top back part of the couch. While it’s not over your shoulder, you still feel enveloped by him all the same as you sit crisscross applesauce next to him, fiddling absentmindedly with your hair, fingernails, anything to keep you stimulated as the news prattles on. 

It was kind of nice. The intimacy and domesticity–if you could even call it that–which the two of you shared was a special one. You’ve seen him exposed like this, and he’s seen you dressed down in a similar fashion before. Neither of you thought much of it, but you at least would find your gaze wandering, and you’ve seen him do the same a few times in turn. The chemistry is undeniable. There’s something there. 

It was going to be maybe another thirty minutes until Art’s clothes are done in the wash and need to be moved over into the dryer. Just in enough time for the documentary on the Miles County Clown, who was right next to you. You start to feel a little tired, fatigue taking over you as you begin to, against your better judgment most certainly, lean against him a little to doze off briefly. 

And he lets you. 

The Miles County Clown has his hand on your back now, giving it a few gentle yet firm rubs before returning his arm on the top of the back cushion of the couch, intently watching the television. He might not be mortal, but you are, and he seems to understand that. 

Those thirty minutes of rest are going to come in handy for the level of attention you’ll need to give him when you wake up.

[ladykailitha]

Star Child 16

And it’s done. Holy freaking shit, guys. I can’t believe it. It’s done. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked this story. I’m so happy for the response it’s gotten and I will personally miss this little story.

Steve gets his happily ever after

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

***

Steve and Luke were in the studio within days of their meeting and it took everything in Steve’s power not to giggle uncontrollably every time they agreed on something.

Soon they managed to hash out a really great song that Steve would feature on but it would be The Struts playing. Hell, even though it would be a non-album single Steve was still over the moon.

Suddenly Steve was in a room with all of the members of the band and he had to squeal into a pillow after they left. Because holy shit, this was his life now.

He was also grateful the distraction it supplied. He missed Eddie. Like a gaping wound, but this allowed him to concentrate on something other then the overwhelming loneliness he felt.

It took them three weeks to get the song recorded and they talked about when it should be released. Steve of course wanted to release it now, but cooler heads prevailed and it would be released in a couple of months toward the end of summer.

It would give the buzz around Steve’s coming out time to die down and give Steve more time to record his own songs and release one of the solo songs first. So that fans got a taste of Steve’s style without someone else.

It made sense. But Steve was still a little bummed that it wouldn’t come out for a while.

The final night of recording Steve went out with The Struts and had a good time. With invitations for Steve to hang out with them in London if he was ever in town.

*

Steve was practically vibrating out of his skin.

“Can you please breathe?” Robin asked as she applied eyeliner to her eyes. “What I’m doing over here is dangerous and I swear you’re going to start bouncing around the room.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair again and sat down hard on the bed. He flopped backwards, arms out spread. “I get to see Eddie for the first time in five weeks and time is deliberately standing still.”

She tsked at him and finished her makeup. She went over to the bed and kicked his foot.

He sat up and looked her up and down. She was wearing a blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a plaid vest and matching tie. She wore baggy slacks over sexy heels and her hair and makeup were artfully messy.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Looking good, Robs. Chrissy is going to faint.”

Robin giggled. “I hope not, I don’t think I would be able to catch her in these heels.”

Steve cocked his head and then nodded. “Fair enough.”

She reached over and played with a strand of his hair. “I still can’t believe Eddie gave you the go ahead to chop off it all off.”

He laughed. “I didn’t chop it all off. I just shaved the sides. It’s just as long as it’s always been on top. Add some fun blond highlights, and I think it looks great.”

Robin smiled. “And it does, honest. I just would have thought that Eddie would have put up more of a fight over it, considering how long his hair is.”

“Now that is a no go,” Steve said firmly. “He’s not allowed to have it shorter than his shoulders. He pulled his hair back once so that he could write with it wet and he looked like a completely different person, Robs. It was freaky.”

Robin laughed. “Whereas you look hot regardless of length?”

“Exactly!” he said with a big grin. “Now help me decide what to wear. I don’t want to go full metal, my fans might murder me.”

Robin winced. As referenced by the social media meltdown when he showed up in videos from the Salt Lake City concert. There was so much hate about him selling out (which, you know weird flex considering it’s usually selling out was in the opposite direction), and how he was clearly trying to get into Eddie’s pants. It was brutal.

In fact the Corroded Coffin fans seemed to be more welcoming and friendly. Telling him how awesome it was that he came out and that he could be himself. But then as Steve was slowly learning, metal fans tended to only looked mean.

So he decided to combine his former look with his boyfriend’s metal style. He wore a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off with chunky bracelets on his wrists. But instead of tight black jeans and combat boots, Steve wore baggy white trousers and black sneakers. Combined with his new hair style and Eddie’s lucky guitar pick hanging from his neck, he felt confident in his look for the first time since he started performing.

Robin eyed him critically, circling him, like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Good job!” she said with a thumbs up.

Steve laughed. “Did I pass the Robin test?”

“It looks good,” she said. “And if they give you hell, point them my direction.”

Steve nodded. He bounced up and down on his toes. Syking himself up. He waved his arms and wrists, trying to loosen up tense muscles. He began his breathing exercises and then his vocal warm ups.

“You ready for this?” Robin asked.

Steve nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Go get him, tiger!”

*

Eddie loved performing in front of massive crowds. He couldn’t get enough it. He loved the energy and high he got from the screaming mases. And there was only one thing he loved more than the fans, more than his own band even.

Steve Harrington.

“It’s our last concert and you know we like to go out big,” Eddie said into the microphone. “When we started this tour, we thought it was going to be like any other. Play to sellout crowds, whether that was bars or stadiums. Have fun with my best friends doing what we love.”

The crowd roared, cheering and stomping their feet.

“But as awesome as the highs were,” Eddie continued. “I feel we have to acknowledge the lows. That club with the horrible management and our getaway to the park so we could still play.”

The crowd booed.

“They sucked!” Gareth growled into his microphone.

The crowd cheered back.

“The rain in Seattle.”

The crowd stomped their feet.

“What’s a little soaking between friends, anyway?” Jeff asked.

The crowd roared.

“The fiasco in Austin and beyond!” Eddie said.

The crowd got angry as chant was taken up, “Fuck Creel!”

“That’s right!” Brian screamed. “Fuck Creel!”

“But we made it through,” Eddie finished, “because we have the best fans in the world!”

If the crowd had roared before, it was nothing to deafening thunder that came reply.

“So as thank you, we’ve got a little treat for you all,” Eddie said over the howl of the crowd. “Steve Harrington!”

Who from what Eddie could see was waiting in the wings, liking like sex itself.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There were screams and whistles as Eddie smiled.

“We’re going to do a little song that brought me the best six weeks of my life,” Eddie explained.

Steve came out and waved. “Hello, LA!”

“Hello, Stevie!” the crowd shouted back.

“Come on,” Steve said with a giggle. “You can do better than that!”

“Hello, Stevie!” they roared back.

“You guys are the best!” Steve said.

The music started and the crowd howled.

Then Steve growled out the first line and it was absolute pandemonium.

But instead of being on the opposite ends of the stage like they were in Indy, they started in the middle and were practically all over each other. And then when it was time for the guitar solo, Eddie handed his guitar over to Steve and he let it rip. Just shredded away.

It got so quiet that the only sound was Steve playing like he was born to rock.

So when the solo ended and Steve handed the guitar back to Eddie, Eddie growled. “Steve Harrington, everyone!”

They finished out the rest of the song and then kissed.

“Hi, beautiful,” Eddie said once they had broken off the kiss.

“Hey-ya, Eds,” Steve murmured back with a smile on his face.

“Tell all the wonderful people about what’s been going on with you,” Eddie prompted.

Steve blushed. “After winning a large settlement from my record label I have set up a charity for young LGBTQ+ artists that if they find themselves in a situation like I was, they have someone to turn to. It will have lawyers, counselors, and resources for getting out of abusive homes with living arrangements and a small stipend to help them pay bills as they get back on their feet.”

The crowd cheered.

“There won’t be an exclusion of genres either,” Steve continued. “There is as much queerphobia in country and rap as there is in pop and rock. We want to be able to reach as many people as we can. And while it is mainly for youths, no one of any age will be turned away.”  

Again the crowd cheered.

“I’ve also been in the studio writing and recording my new album,” Steve went on.

More cheering.

“And I’ve got a couple of surprises coming for you all,” he said. “Not the least of which is collaboration with these boys.”

The crowd ate it up, stomping and screaming.

“I said in Indy that my greatest dream was to perform with Corroded Coffin,” he continued. “And while crossing that off my bucket list was no small feat, the thought of making music with them, not just Eddie, who I absolutely am in love with, just blows my mind. But these are some of the best in the business and making friends with them and being able to write and perform as song with them? Beyond my wildest imagination.”

“Flattery absolutely works on us, man,” Jeff said in his microphone.

Steve blushed. “Oh, you guys have no idea. That was me dialing back on my enthusiasm. I’ve been your biggest fan for years.”

“Oh no,” Brian said into Jeff’s mic, “we know. And we’re happy to have gotten to know the real you over the last couple of months.”

“Really digging the new look, Stevie,” Jeff agreed.

The crowd whistled their agreement.

Steve grinned.

It had been one hell of a journey. But he’d made it. He was in love with the first boy he ever kissed. He was making the music he loved for the first time in his life. He was out as bisexual. His label and parents were facing criminal charges. And his best friend was going on a date with the girl of her dreams.

If someone had come up to Steve two months ago and told him he would be here with Eddie in front of an adoring crowd, his life changed for the better? He would have laughed himself sick. Good things didn’t happen to Steve Harrington. Not like that.

But it had. And things were only going to get better. He was so happy, he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Eddie senseless.

“So did I leave up to the hype, sunshine?” he asked, away from the mic.

Eddie smiled. “You blew my expectations out of the water, sweetheart.”

***

Here’s the meta I wrote for it when I started writing the story and the extra scene that showed what happened that night at Steve’s ten years before the story started.

Tag List: @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @bookbinderbitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches  @anaibis @failedstarsandgoldenclouds  @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es  @yes-im-your-mom  @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective  @fiore-della-valle   @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots  @idkareallyreallygoodname @ellietheasexylibrarian @localgaydisaster @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @imfinereallyy  @maya-custodios-dionach @child-of-cthulhu @estrellami-1 @lillithhellfire @nerdsconquerall @space-invading-pigeon @avacrebs @ravenpainter @gregre369

[leoncillo]

Oh god I thought my brain wanted a break. But I guess not? I just blacked out and this was in my notes when I came to idk y'all 🤷🏽‍♀️

SFW, GN reader (although I use "pretty"?), Black reader, Zohakuten best wingman

You notice the boys have been a bit listless so you decide to take them out. But individually. It must be tiring always being part of a group, right?

Sekido

Sekido jumps and nearly screams when the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes from his day time sleeping, is you straddling him, inches from his face.

"What the hell?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Is that even possible?" you ask, pondering with your finger on your chin.

"What do you want, you nuisance?!"

"Get up! We're going on a date."

"Do you know how long it'll take those idiots to get ready? Why didn't you let me plan this ahead of time?" he grumbled.

"Oh they're not going. It'll be just me and you tonight" you said booping him on the nose.

His face heats up and his cheeks start to match his eyes.

"Hehe are you blus-ahh" you yelp as he grows flips you off of his legs.

"How rude!"

"Just...just go get ready yourself! We'll meet at the door in 20 minutes" he said as he marched off to the shower.

20 minutes later

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked down the stairs. You settled on dark distressed flared jeans and a modest white blouse with a cutout window with a black and white cross body bag and white tennis shoes. You decided to keep your makeup natural and to put your hair in a low ponytail to hang over your shoulder.

"You look so pretty!" shouted Urogi.

"You look lovely, dear" said Aizetsu softly.

"I might have to be jealous of Sekido for once" Karaku said, snickering.

You reached the bottom only to realize Sekido and Zohakuten were both missing.

"Wait where is he-"

"I heard that you green eyed son of a bitch!" said Sekido as you all heard him approaching the top of the stairs, only to get smacked upside the head by Zohakuten.

"Watch the language, goddamnit. You're going on a date!"

There was complete silence.

Everyone's jaw was on the floor as Sekido descended the stairs.

His hair was neatly combed and shiny, with a few strands out to frame his face. He wore a burgundy long sleeved turtleneck paired with some crisp black slacks and black loafers. A gold chain adorned his chest, a gold watch held his wrist, and a gold belt buckle around the front of his waist. Was he wearing earrings?!

"No way! I can't believe it! Hahaha" said Karaku, nearly falling off the couch.

"You look good, Sekido!" shouted Urogi.

"You clean up nice" said Aizetsu.

"All thanks to me. You're welcome, y/n" said Zohakuten.

"Y/n?"

You didn't realize you were still speechless until his well defined chest was right in front of you.

"Right. Y-You look amazing, Sekido" you said as you looked away from each other, both a blushing mess.

"Shall we go?" said Sekido as he held out his hand.

As you two walked to the car, you remembered that this was your idea, that you're in control, and mentally got your game face ready. You snatched the car keys out of his hand and motioned him to the passenger side.

"Aht aht. I'm driving. You don't even know where I planned to take you anyway."

Sekido grit his teeth, but nodded and listened. You knew he didn't like NOT being in control, so you kissed him on the cheek for playing along.

"Jesus can we just go?!" he said flustered.

After about 20 minutes of driving, you pulled up to a nondescript warehouse building on a side of town neither of you have been to before.

Even for a demon, Sekido felt a little weirded out as he looked at the building from top to bottom. "Are you gonna try to kill me or something?"

"What?! Nooo, silly. You'll see. Let's go!" you said grabbing his arm and leading him inside.

Inside there were several made up stations and soundproof rooms. A bored looking college student sat at the registration booth and looked up lazily at the two of you. "How long?"

You hummed to yourself in thought. "Two hours, please."

Sekido quickly glanced at you, still extremely confused. Was this some kinda love hotel or something? The thought made him start blushing again.

"Right this way."

The college student let you inside one of the rooms and pointed at the long aprons and face shields for you, before leaving you to it.

While you were suiting up, Sekido looked around the room at the mannequins and ceramic dishware and vases and the line of baseball bats hung on the wall.

"Y/n, what the hell is this?" he turned to ask only to see you launch a glass bowl at the wall. "What in god's name are you doing?!"

"It's called a rage room, honey" you said trying to pry the next bowl from his hands, "smashing stuff is the point!"

"I'm not completely following? Humans these days are so weird!"

You thought for a second, "Hey remember that one mission you were on when Urogi got too excited and blew all of the windows out of the building?"

CRASH

A plate went flying into the wall.

"I'm still paying the bill off for the damages!" he said growling and reaching for a vase.

"Now you're getting it! But hold back a teeny bit. You're still a demon, dude" you said, eyeing the dent in the wall.

"What are the fake humans for?" he said eyeing the mannequins.

You grabbed a bat off the wall. "Remember Douma at the last upper moon meeting?...or just him in general?"

The bat was out of your hands in seconds and smashing into the mannequins crotch.

"Yeah!" you said hyping him up and giggling at the growing grin on his face.

"Are you not gonna keep smashing?" he asked.

You usually solved your anger issues pretty easily, but you figured you could find something in this world to be mad at and shrugged.

You threw a mug into the air and hit it with a bat. "I hate parallel parking!"

Then, you sent a plate into a wall "I hate meetings that could be e-mails!"

Sekido's smile only grew wider at your display of anger as he continued his assault on the mannequins and you thought you heard a "Karaku" in his rambling somewhere.

"Ouch!" you stopped after a flyaway chip of ceramic somehow made it past your face shield and nicked your cheek.

Sekido dropped everything immediately and made his way over to you. "What? What happened?!"

"Eh. I'm guess I'm still klutzy enough to get hurt through a shield" you said going to touch the cut on your cheek.

"Don't touch it! Let me see." he said, as he held your face gently and looked you over before kissing the cut and turning away, "You'll be okay. Put some of that human ointment on so it doesn't leave a scar. Let's go home before you hurt anything else."

"Aww, Seki, you-"

"I said let's go home!" he said , storming out and hiding his face.

[larry-22-blog]

Period complications 6 x First Time

Hello, there is the 6th part of the series, where Erling and his love finally take the big step :)

I hope you enjoy it, let me know if you have any feedback, if you would like me to include something specific in the next parts or if you have any prompts.

I try to either include your requests or feedback in the series or consider writing it independently.

Last week I went to the doctor to check if anything looked good after the treatment.

Erling was by my side, as always, holding me together, putting a comforting hand on my thigh when he saw it shaking.

Best boy in the world.

Today was Saturday and Erling didn't have any matches this weekend so I was planning a nice romantic dinner, with candles and some red wine.

Tonight is going to be the night.

I was prepared.

I had a nice bath, shaved all my body, washed my hair, rubbed some lotion and oil on my body then proceeded to do my hair and apply some light makeup.

I dressed up in a light blue flowy dress, no bra just some white lacy panties.

I looked at myself in the mirror smiling, happy with my choices.

At first, I was thinking about dressing in something sexier, a red lace dress, tight and short. But it just wasn't me.

I hope Erling will like me dressed like this.

My boy, he's been out all day, having practice and recovery, then running some errands.

I miss him.

I looked at the clock, he should be home soon.

I got the plates ready and lit some more candles.

"Perfect," I said before hearing the familiar sound of the car engine.

I went to the front door to wait for him, feeling suddenly very nervous.

"Love, I'm--" he opened the door, then saw me "hi…" I said shyly looking up at him.

"Wow baby, you look absolutely stunning!" He said, eyes wide as he checked me out.

I blushed.

He walked up to me, putting his hands on my waist "Did I miss something…? Why are you so nervous baby?" He asked worried, looking into my eyes, then moving one of his hands to caress my cheek and the other to hold my trembling hand.

"I want tonight to be our night…" I said, looking up into his beautiful eyes.

"Baby, are you sure? There is no rush, please don't think that you have to do it on my account, like baby, I'm fine with waiting…" he tried but I cut him off.

"Yes, but I'm not fine with waiting, I want you. All of you." I tried to pull him in a kiss but he was looking at me, making sure I'm absolutely positive about my decision "it's not fair that you're this tall…" I whined, pouting, making him smile before giving in and kissing me.

"You're a shortie," he said into the kiss "hey!" I tried to playfully push at his shoulders "I never said I didn't like it, absolutely love our height difference, well our size difference" he kissed me on the nose.

"You knew you have a size difference kink, you perv" I pulled at his hair, trying to get him to kiss me again.

"As if you don't, you naughty girl, you think I don't see you lusting over my body, blushing whenever I caught you staring? You love how big I am, especially compared to you" he teased and I couldn't help but blush "what do you think are the features I'm most attracted to?" I teased.

"Hmmm well, not necessarily in this order but you love my back, especially my shoulders, my chest, I know you have a thing for my pecs, abs, my legs, yeah definitely my thighs, you always watch my thighs especially when I'm wearing shorts, or well, nothing, also I think for some reason you like my butt? I think it's quite plain but you do you, babe, anyways, maybe my hands? Arms? I don't know, I'm curious to know your answer" he said, kissing me softly "awww baby you're blushing, it's ok, no need to be shy around me"

"I think that what I like most about you in terms of features is your face?" I said shyly, shocking him "my face, really? No way, but I have such a weird one, people have quite mixed opinions of it… I personally think it's weird too," he said.

"I think your face is beautiful, you have such stunning eyes, your cheekbones and jawline are to die for, your lips, damn your lips are so fucking beautiful, so big and plush and kissable and your hair, damn, I have to admit it's my weakness, so fucking soft and long and fits you perfectly. Your pale skin and blonde hair… I don't think I ever met someone remotely like you. You just are both so tough and so soft? I think you just switch your features depending on the mood?" I asked, looking up into his eyes, he was smiling down at me, face a little red "are we still talking about my face??" He giggled.

"Partially, but like how do you look so though on the pitch, with your hair tied and wearing your gorgeous blue and white equipment, you just walk onto the pitch like you own it, the whole stadium, hell the whole world, you look absolutely invincible, so big and strong and confident, a true Viking…" I explained passionately "but that's just a part of you, you're so fucking complex. When you are like this, hair pulled down, sparkling eyes, your perfect smile, comfy clothes, hoodie and beanie, you just, you're the complete opposite. You are actually such a big softie, a teddy bear, so loving and protective and just wonderful, thank you for allowing me to see you, the real you. I just adore this part of you, it shows up around your family and friends mostly, but at some points, it also can be seen with the way you treat your teammates, people you work with, and even the opposite team sometimes" I finished "Not that I don't absolutely love the rest of your body, you know I absolutely do, all you mentioned are valid points, the hottest guy in the world" I completed making him laugh "wow baby, I didn't think I was this complex"

"You are, both an angel and the devil when you want to" I smiled.

"The dinner is getting cold, let's go eat" I took his hand and pulled him towards the dining room, then made him sit down first, which he protested, wanting to help me with my chair "nope, I'm the host tonight, you sit down and relax".

I served him the dinner and a glass of wine then served myself "wow baby, it looks amazing" Erling complimented me "mmm tastes delicious too" he moaned making me blush "thank you, baby, I'm glad you like it"

After we ate, he helped me clean the table and put everything in the dishwasher then came behind me while I was washing my hands, hugging me, and putting his head in the crock of my neck.

"Have I ever scared you, you know, like really scared you?" He asked, looking sadly down at me.

"Ahh all the time, whenever I see you with a ball around I'm scared" I half-joked, he actually was really scary whenever he has a ball around.

"We have hundreds of balls around the house! So you're scared of me all the time?!" He laughed.

"You caught me, oops" I giggled, I turned around, hugging him.

"We have to work on your fear of balls" he kissed my hair.

"Oh, so you do want to kill me? I thought you loved me" I whined, pinching his side, making him yelp.

"Nope, we are so doing that, mark my word, you're going to be the greatest footballer of all time" he suddenly lifted me up, scaring me with the force "Erling!!" I protested, but put my legs around his waist as I looked down at him "well, that's new, I quite like the view from above" I giggled, kissing his nose, arms around his strong neck "now, make me yours, Erling Braut Håland" I said his name, trying to pronounce it correctly.

"Fuck, you saying my name like this makes turns me so bad" he groaned, making his way to our room, in his arms, not breaking a sweat as he carries me.

Fuck if this doesn't turn me on.

"Fuck baby, it looks so pretty," he said as he opened the door.

I made sure the room is clean and put scented candles all over.

"Thank you, I tried my best" I giggled but it was cut short by him putting me onto the bed, leaning over me, and making me gulp at how close he was.

"My pretty flower…" he said, rubbing my pink cheek with the pad of his thumb, before kissing me.

"Don't be afraid, I'm going to take care of you, make you feel so good. Can't wait to make you mine, my love" he whispered, before moving his hand down to caress my waist, then my thigh, then reaching under my dress to squeeze my bum as he pressed himself down, I could feel how hard he was as his front made contact with mine, making me moan.

He began kissing my neck, as began moving his hips, then moved down to kiss my breast, playing with my nipples, knowing how much it turns me on, and how sensitive my nipples are. I was a moaning mess when he stopped, whining and trying to pull him back in as he lifted himself up to get rid of his hoodie, throwing it away.

I moaned as I saw his muscles flex with each movement.

"Please baby…" I whined.

"I want to eat you out, I want to make you come on my tongue," he said darkly, voice deep as he looked into my eyes with such intensity and determination I felt myself shiver.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me… Do you want to hold my hand?"

"Please" he takes my trembling hand in his, kissing it before moving down so he's kneeling in front of the bed, between my legs, looking up at me, asking for permission. I nodded, afraid, shivering as he lifts my dress up, kissing the back of my thigh as he moved closer so his face was right in front of my private parts.

"Mmm you smell so fucking good" he rolled down my panties and I felt vulnerable. Excited but afraid.

"You taste even better" he put his mouth on me and it felt so fucking good, I moaned loudly, throwing my head.

"Oh my fucking God!" I put one of my hands in his hair, pulling him closer and pushing him away then pulling him closer again. I wasn't sure myself.

"Actually it's just Erling, not a God, I mean not that I know of" he chuckled, pulling me closer by my hips.

It didn't take long until I came moaning his name.

It felt so fucking good.

"You're so good at this… You should be illegal" I moaned, pulling him away, feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm.

He gave me one last kiss before moving up in our initial position, with him above me.

"I'm glad you liked it as much as I did." He said, leaning in to kiss me "Erling, you've got my… all over you!" I protested trying to push him away from me.

But of course, I didn't stand a chance against his strength "come on, taste yourself, 5 out for 5 starts rating, totally recommend you try it" he said, kissing me and I eventually melted into the kiss, the taste wasn't that bad, certainly not combined with Erling's own taste.

We ended up making out, lost in the pleasure but eventually, he moved his attention to my breasts again. He has a big thing for my chest for sure. That or he just likes it because I love it?

"Let's get undressed," he said into the kiss, standing up and pulling me with him as he got rid of his pants, leaving him completely nude before me and me still dressed.

"I don't get it," I said, and he looked at me confused "how can you be naked in front of me and me dressed and yet I'm the one who is feeling completely naked and you fully dressed?" I asked, looking up at him, smiling shyly.

"You're just afraid baby, but you don't have to be, you're with me, and nothing bad will happen, I'll protect you, always," he said putting his hands on my cheeks as he kissed me tenderly.

I eventually broke the kiss as I pushed him to sit on the bed.

I sat there in front of him, looking straight at him as I peeled my dress off from my shoulder, letting it fall in a pile at my feet.

Erling's eyes never left me.

"Well, that's it, this is all of me…" I said insecurity clear in my voice.

Erling pulled me in by my waist so I was sitting in his lap "I love you, baby, I love your beautiful body, I love your huge heart and this beautiful and unique brain of yours. I love your past and your present and hopefully, I'll get to love your future if you allow me. I love you. All of you." He said and I was crying by the end, completely in awe with this man.

"I love you…" I said, kissing him, breaking our eye contact.

"I can't wait to be yours, 100%," I said against his lips "you're already mine, just like I'm already yours," he said, turning us around to pin me down under him again, kissing down my neck, paying attention to my breasts, my nipples, taking one in his mouth as his fingers trained down till they reached back between my legs "I'm going finger you a bit, so it won't hurt as badly," he said, continuing playing with my nipples making me a moaning mess.

He put the first finger in and it already felt like a stretch. Oh, God. How was I going to fit him?

But it felt so good.

"Fuck" is all I said when I felt him add one more finger in, I was a moaning mess, so turned on and so ready.

I had one hand in his hair as he was sucking on my boob and the other was holding on to the bed sheet, trying to get a grip.

"Baby, I'm so fucking close…" I moaned but he didn't stop, he was determined to make me orgasm. And he does, for the second time today, making me shout his name as I got lost in the pleasure.

After a while I calmed down and he pulled out, lifting himself up and moving so he lined up with me, tugging at his hard cock as he looked at me "let me get a condom…" he reached out to his nightstand and took a condom out but I stopped him before he could open the package.

I was blushing again, not knowing how to tell him.

"I actually, I'm clean, I got tested after my, you know…" I referred to the incident on my last period and he nodded "and I also talked to the doctor then, I started taking pregnancy pills, and you get tested regularly I know you're clean, so like could we maybe do this without a condom…?" I was a blushing mess by the end of my speech.

"Fuck baby, sounds like a fucking dream, of course, I want to be inside you bare" he kissed me with so much passion I barely got a chance to react.

He was on top of me, lining his cock with my entrance, before breaking the kiss to look into my eyes "we're in this together, yes? Tell me everything you're feeling baby, if you want me to stop, I'll stop, if you want to slow down we will slow down, yeah? You set the pace, I follow your rules" he said holding my hand and I nod "I trust you to take care of me" is all I said before he started pulling in, leaving me breathless.

He was so big and it felt so weird at first, it felt like a burn, so much pressure but I didn't want him to stop so I hold back my tears as I tried to bear the pain, giving Erling a small smile.

He was watching me "It will feel better, I promise," he said, stopping as he saw the pain in my eyes, kissing the tears away.

He wasn't even halfway inside me…

"Can you try to move again?" I asked after I calmed down, feeling myself getting used to the stretch.

This time it didn't feel as bad, but as he retracted and went back halfway something inside me felt like popping. And it hurt, making me gasp and hold onto his shoulders, hiding my face in his neck as he kissed my hair "shhh, it will get better now, you're so strong baby, I'm so proud of you…" he moaned and I saw him teased too, he was gripping the sheets to calm himself down.

I wonder how does it feel for him?

"Is it, does it feel good for you? Do I feel ok?" I ask shyly.

"You feel so fucking good, you have no idea, so tight and so fucking wet baby, it's taking everything in me not to fucking come" he moaned, his voice sounding so rough.

"Kiss me" I take a hold of his face, kissing him and pulling him down on me "you can move" I whisper into the kiss, moaning when he does actually move.

I felt myself being looser now, my body adjusted to his size.

And it feels so fucking good as he moves, I scratch at his back trying to hold on, moaning into the kiss as he picks up speed.

"You feel so fucking good baby, I'm not going to last…" he groaned, resting his body weight on one hand as the other took a hold of my breast, massaging it as he moved his hips.

He was moving much faster, I barely got a grip, trying to hold onto him.

But I could see that he was holding back.

And I can't wait until we get to the point where he won't need to hold back.

"I'm close…" I moan, tears running down my face "me too, cum for me baby" he said, accent ticking and I absolutely did cum.

And it felt so fucking good, my insides tightening around his length as he kept fucking me through it, following immediately after with a shout of my name.

We were both panting, him halfway laying on top of me, still inside me, face in my pillow, muscles tense and me, well I was a mess, still holding him, arms around his shoulders.

"You just had to, huh?" I said, still out of breath into his shoulder, kissing his collarbone.

"Hmm?" He asked confused, but not moving.

"Had to give me 3 orgasms, a hat-trick…" I giggled, threading my fingers through his soft hair.

He laugh at that as he lifted his face from the pillow, facing me "It was our first time, I didn't want to disappoint…"

"Oh, you definitely didn't, 5 out of 5 stars rating" I joked "best I ever had" I giggled and he laughed at my bad jokes.

He pulled out of me, and I feel so empty. I miss him inside me already.

"I love you so much baby, thank you for trusting me, I'll forever treasure this moment, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me," he said seriously, not breaking eye contact.

"It was perfect, thank you, you took such good care of me, Erling…" I answered, kissing him lovingly.

Erling turned us around so he was now on his back with me on top as we continued to make out "we should shower, we're all dirty" I broke the kiss, but Erling was not happy "maybe after the second round…" he said and then turned us around again, pinning me down on the bed as he entered me again.

"Erling!" I whined but I was secretly loving every second of it.

"I know you love it, you can't fool me, baby," he said, as he picked up speed again.

We got lost in the pleasure, into each other and soon enough we were both coming, moaning each other's name.

"You're trying to kill me tonight…" I said into his strong chest. He was still inside me.

"Nah, I'm quite fond of you…" he joked, massaging my boobs.

"What are my boobs, stress balls now?" I giggled.

"I mean they can be, but I'm not stressed now, not after what just happened," he said, kissing me on the cheek.

I yawned and he looked down at me betrayed "am I boring you?!" He fake gasped and I reached down to pull another pillow from the pile on my side of the bed to smack it in his face when my hand made contact with something different.

"You've got to be kidding me?!" I pulled it from under the pillow and pushed it into his chest, giving him a death glare.

He didn't get it at first but when he saw the ball he couldn't stop laughing, falling next to me, pulling out of me in the process, and holding the ball.

"Of course, the hat-trick ball had to be in bed with us on our first time" I laughed, moving so I was hugging his head on his chest as he put an arm around me to hold me closer while still playing with the ball.

"It's meant to be I'm telling you, babe, it's the hat-trick ball I scored last week against Wolves on your birthday" he giggled taking my hand and pulling it over over the ball.

"You know, if we have one more round and I make you come two more times then it would mean 6 orgasms and 3 rounds basically a hat-trick of hat-tricks…" he smirked and I blushed "well if we must…" I giggled as he moved above me, handing me the ball, and pulling it in, in a swift motion "fuck, it already feels like home" he moaned as he eased in.

He ended up giving me 2 more orgasms, making me see stars. By the end of round 3, I was dead.

"Best night of my life" he whispered as he hold me into his arms, pulling the covers over me, as I laid between his legs, head resting on his chest, hugging him.

"Best night of our lives" I corrected him, moving my hand to hold his, over the hat-trick ball as I drifted into sleep.

(I just had to add the last pics😂bye)

Note:

If you enjoyed it please consider supporting me:

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 360: That was Then, This is Now, p12

What remained of the upstairs apartment door swings open and crashes into the wall with a sharp >bang< as the two Others enter, say hello to the two receptionists who are with him.

“Bianca, Sammi hi he-“

“Crikey Aubs what the fuck?”

“Y-yeah someone broke in and-”

“And Jesus are you leaking?”

“N-no, uh, that’s just his, uh-”

“Thanks Aubrey we’ll take it from here.”

“b-but-“

“It’s okay, really.”

“Yeah, Olivia sent us. So piss off.”

“She wanted us to come up and take care of him…”

Lights are flickering overhead.

“We’ve got tits, too. See?”

“…and she’s the boss, right?”

The red haired woman’s voice is full of something powerful.

“R-right.”

“You should probably go too, Nadia.”

“Right.”

Two young women exit, leaving two behind with him. A door closes. 

They crouch down, one on either side. They study his face, his eyes moving in dream behind half-closed lids. The redhead reaches out, holds them open, gazes deep into him….

“Do you see what’s happening in there?”

“It’s, like, some kind of wonky protective charm.”

“Yep. But we can fix that.”

The redhead’s two hands go to his temples. Lights flicker anew as she begins to tap his skull with her fingernails: <clickety-clickety-click> The whites of his eyes change color as something fuchsin runs through their veins. 

"You saw what was happening in there? That was then. Let’s show him now."

“Haha bonkers. But Emily said-“

“Shut up. Now give him a kiss...”

…

I felt an immediate chill. The room, everything around me suddenly felt strange, a little different, certainly a little colder as my front desk girl, Aubrey, abruptly released me from her comforting embrace. I blushed, having just been held to her full young bosom, and noticed that the shadows in the office seemed deeper, and longer. Static crackled over the big band tunes coming from my new RCA desktop radio, and I saw there was a crack in one of my office windows…and it was growing. The girls, my medical assistants, had checked me out, making sure I hadn’t hurt myself moving that vending machine. Now that I think about it, how on earth had I done that? 

Lakshmi, Josie, Amelia - and is that Marisela? She’s wearing so much makeup - surrounded me. Someone was pouring me a whisky from my servette and another was now playing with the radio unit, changing channels, looking for the news. 

Something was about to happen.  Knock knock sweetie..! called a familiar voice from the door. Bodies around me shifted, away, and I looked to see-

Melissa!

Haha w-wow look at you! I said from behind the small crowd of women, someone less assured than I would have blushed from hearing the shaking in my voice. I was sure it was nothing to worry about. Always dressed to the nines for the office, Melissa naturally drew all eyes to her. She took my breath away, actually. You look like the b-bee’s knees! I said. 

Oh thank you sweetie! she sang, feigning a blush at my compliment as she stood in the doorway of the room. My girlfriend - how long had we been seeing one another? - was a real looker. A tall drink of water, for sure - almost as tall as me! And the figure on her? The knockers and those gams? Wow! She wore high heels and had my coffee, my morning joe, steaming hot and hopefully just as I liked it: black! 

She came in, the <click-clack-click> of her high heels echoing strangely loud, staccato against the new linoleum of my office floor. Is that a new dress, doll? I asked as I stood for the lady, obviously impressed with her appearance. Who wouldn’t be? 

<clickety-click-click> Really loud. Weird. When she reached me we were eye-to-eye; in fact haha in those heels she was a bit taller. You look like a m-million bucks. 

Take a picture, dreamboat, she purred in a private whisper, reaching to straighten my tie, her sparkling eyes on mine and a curl to her smile, it’ll last longer. 

I couldn’t help it, my eyes dropped down to her tits. Cleavage bulged above the neckline of her blue, polka-dot dress and I got a whiff of her Chanel N-…Huh. No…was she wearing something new? Whatever it was, the flowery scent gave me an immediate boner! That, and it reminded me of, wow, what we’d been doing in bed together recently. Those words she’d started using with me when we were alone, in the dark: ‘good boy’, ‘my little man’, ‘mama’s baby’…

Wow, she was really sumpthin’ else...

Eyes up here, tiger, she giggled softly, and took a step back to let me watch her set her shoulders, making sure to keep my interest. Here’s your coffee, boss, she continued, interrupting my reverie and sudden lapse of composure. Now the whole room was watching us. I put a little milk in it this morning for you, to help the tummy, she told me.

Oh, um, thanks, I replied, looking around awkwardly as the girls around me giggled. Something strange was happening.

Now, I heard something about you being very brave. Is that right? Melissa cooed, taking a step forward back towards me. Instinctively, for some reason, I took a step back.

Oh yes, Marisela chimed in, an acerbic edge to her voice I hadn’t heard earlier, You should have seen it. Dr. Jay pulled a vending machine right off of Mr. Kowalczyk. Had Marisela always been this <gulp> busty? Her black blouse had…wow, someone should tell her…popped a button. Or maybe three...

He was brave, very brave, Lakshmi cooed. Oh my gosh the way she swung her hips.

You would have been so proud, chimed in Josie.

Oh I am proud, I am so proud of our big, strong man, Melissa crowed indulgently, our brave boy.

Our knight in shining armor! Aubrey offered.  So brave, Lakshmi cooed.

The girls crept closer to me, surrounding me from all sides. They were praising me, but it didn't feel like praise. It felt like…something else.

So fucking brave, drawled Amelia.

This was weird, right? Something was slipping away from me, and it felt like my authority. I was the man here! I had to take control! And I couldn’t let that lapse in office propriety go. 

P-Please watch your language? I spoke to Amelia, wincing when I heard my voice crack, unsettled by the lack of conviction I heard in it. Amelia’s breasts seemed larger as well, larger than I remembered. Looking at them made me feel somehow smaller, and like I shouldn’t have dared to discipline her. 

Her long nails began to tap in rhythm on the desk. <clickety-clickety-click> <clickety-clickety-click>

Melissa had stepped up to me, and now grabbed me by the tie. She pulled me in for a kiss - wow, what a kiss! - that sent electric shocks all the way down to my toes. It even made the lights in the room hum and flicker! My eyes rolled in my head as her tongue took over my mouth. Someone had made sure my desk chair was right behind me and good thing because when Melissa released me my legs gave out and I fell backwards into it. 

The girls had begun to clap, again. <clap clap clap!> Why? What?

<clap clap clap!>

From my chair I looked up at Melissa.

Do I look taller from down there? she asked. 

Wh-what?

<clickety-clickety-click>

I know you like tall girls, she pressed, and I asked: do I look taller from way…down…there?

She inched forward a bit, peering down her nose at me. She’d begun to take hold of the hem of her short skirt. S-something strange was happening.

<clap clap clap!>

<clickety-clickety-click!>

Taller? Melissa continued, Bigger?

<clap clap clap!> wh-where is that coming from?

She began to turn around…

Let me show you how big I’ve gotten, sweetie, she purred, slowly lifting her skirts and bending over at the waist, how big I am now, back here…

M-Melissa w-w-wait! I sputtered, what are you d-???

My voice froze and I gasped as it came into view. Fucking Jesus Christ what’s happened?!? It was huge!

<clap clap clap clap clap clap>

<clickety-clickety-click>

I heard Melissa giggle and she put her hands down on the desk, cocked her mountainous hips up, towards me. Her frilly skirt was bundled about her waist. She was not wearing panties. 

Stand up. Show us how much of a man you are. 

<clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap…>

=====================================

[awesomeart-83]

Decapolice Ocs

Elle Yale

“Hey ya, guys! Welcome to my crime lab! Find clues, solve the mystery, but don’t mess up anything or you’ll be banned!”

Age: 23

A very pink-focused forensic scientist who is very popular among the police station. When she is a child and as she grew into a young woman, she was obsessed with science. While her parents didn’t agree with her career (more information later), they tried to give her the best education to pursue her dreams.

“Why is Harvard is so insufferable? His loud voice! His stupid personality! Don’t tell him this, but he better choose a different forensics scientist or else!”

While she gets along with most of the team, he despises Harvard with a passion, due to his smug attitude and Harvard….. thinks she is just a cute scientist who might have a crush on him and very good at hiding it. On the other hand, she has a crush on Carl, due to his sweet personality and his sense of justice. Carl, when he discover this, tries to not rush it and worries that it isn’t the right time, but still tries to flirt with her.

Appearance: She is a young woman with a two ponytails that are medium length and are stuck together with a scrunchies. She has some hair clips on her to kept her bangs.

Main tactic: Special attacks

Ultimate move: Perfect Cell Attack

Retsu Tohuko

Age: 25

“This corpse………. It must have really suffered a lot of hell. Like me. I can tell from its expression.

A weird mortician who the team mets throughout the game. He is a mortuarist who checks on the dead bodies. He is hated around the station due to his disturbing vibes and creepy appearance with only having one friend (Yale) but despite this he tries to be a nice person around with a very creepy hobby.

As a child and throughout adulthood, he has been through near death experiences, leaving him feeling isolated and making an outcast even with his family (but that’s for another day). As he grew up, he became obsessed with the cycle of life of death and studied death and how people died through ways. When he got into college, he went into forensics

“Everybody dies somebody, maybe even you, Marks. Whenever it is, we all have to be prepared because death always comes no matter what

He doesn’t join the team until much later in the game when the team are investigating the Clown and has him check out the bodies of the other victims which includes Harvard’s mom. When Harvard finds out about this and freaks out, he is able to calm him down and deduces that they are related. He then tells Harvard that whenever that goes down, he mustn’t kill the Clown or he’ll be kicked off his job.

Appearance: He is a scrawny and thin man who is quite tall, but not to pass as a giant. His hair is short black that looks like it has cut off recently and has blue eyes. He is always shown to wear a mask on his face, making people believed there was a horrific scar on his face. They’re…….. half-right with having a scar cover the left side of his face which he covers up with his mask and makeup.

Ultimate Move: Grim Checkup

George Cornwell

Age: 32

“With your brain and my knowledge, we are going to make a great team, I am sure of it!”

A criminologist who doesn’t work at the police station but runs into the gang many times throughout the story before getting wrapped up into the search for the Clown. He wants to talk to the Clown (not to a obsessive degree) and wants to understand why does he kill. He isn’t a part of the police but Granger and Maise let him in to talk to the team over the criminals they captured.

He is pretty wholesome and quite understanding to many people (sometimes criminals). When he discovers Harvard’s past after the game ends, he decides to take up the mantle of Harvard’s moral compass and gives him a therapist to help with hi: trauma. He shown to be protective to his loved ones, but not to point of overbearing.

“Hey, there’s been something in your chest for a little long time. You think that you keeping in it’s chest and refusing to let it out, but you’re wrong. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But if you are not going talk about this to me and your team, you need to talk to somebody else.”

However his past is mysterious and he refuses to tell anyone not even his close friends about it. And it turns out he has a pretty good reason, but we’ll see later. He’ll explain it to Harvard near the end of the game

Ultimate move: Let me take a look in your mind.

Stanford Williams

Age: 24

“There’s a line between the ideal detective and the insane detective, and Harvard Marks you have crossed the line to insanity.”

He is a high ranking serious officer who is a deep rivalry against Harvard. He isn’t well liked due to his serious attitude towards most of the staff but he isn’t outright hated due to his contempence in the field. He has a hidden side to him, caring for his family and friends off the job and taking them to nice places to relax and have fun.

His father was a officer who WAS excellence in his job and WAS actually chosen to be the police chief instead of Granger. But, notice the emphasis on WAS. A few years (possibly in Stanford high school days), he was found dead in a murder similar to the Clown style. While it is now unknown if the Clown or a copycat of the Clown and the killer was never found, it still effected him and made wanted to hunt down other serial killers like them and bring them to justice so nobody would have to suffer what him and family did.

“The reason why we are looking for the Clown isn’t for revenge you fool, it’s for justice for those who were suffered in their hands!”

So you think with their history, him and Harvard would at least connect or be friends? WRONG. While Stanford views Harvard with great potential as a detective, he despises him for his willingness to break the rules in missions and cases and his wild insanity. While Harvard would have chosen a different career if his mother hadn’t died (unless the game discredits this), Stanford has wanted to be to become a detective ever since he was a child. With Harvard, he only met with him at police college for the 2 years he was in along with Carl and Stanford was at his last 2 years. Harvard found him annoying due to his overshadowing anybody in their class and overly aggressive attitude towards. (Funny thing is that one of the reasons why Stanford hates Harvard.) So when they both of them (and Carl) end up stuck in the same police station in the same city, none of them are pleased.

Ultimate Move: Sharps Slashes of Justice

So, here’s them all! What do you think of them? Which one is your favorite?

[willowser]

hi willow i was just perusing ur fic rec you just posted when i saw you mention if he’s a serial killer and of course I decided to re read it for the millionth time and now I wanted to say how much I absolutely adore it so much. The characterization of touya and his development of romantic feelings is just so, so wonderfully well done. I think about those two all the time— it’s just: what are they up to these days? has touya throttled kinjo yet? have they progressed to sleeping in the bed together rather than one on the couch? because they are just so special to me and I want to swaddle your touya in a heated blanket and make him a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.

oh, oh !! 🥺✨️ thank you so much for sending this in !! i'm so glad you enjoy his characterization !! 🤗💐💕

what are these two up to these days !! let's see !!

warning for just dabi in general, as usual LOL also this got so fucking angsty and a bit sad ?? my b !!

dabi is — sitting in the dark of your room.

on the bed, looking at the window he's just come through, how the night has followed him in. the clothes he's wearing smell like people, weird as that is to say; not at all like the passion-blah-blah-blah detergent he's become spoiled on.

and you're — not home. before he clambered in, he knew that already, but even a shell of you is better than nothing. preferable, almost, or at least that's what he tells himself.

couple weeks ago, you mentioned seeing a movie together, asked if you should take the night off before your work schedule came out, but dabi thinks that's all a little juvenile, doesn't he? whaddya wanna do? tongue each other in the back row? as if he gives a damn what's popular these days, what everyone's watching or why. not like he's got a ton of time to consume the general media.

but he's still here now. in the absence of you and your passion-blah-blah-blah, picking the lint off your comforter. there's no telling how to work the fucking washing machine; it sings and has a lot of buttons and he's never really watched you put the soap in it, and all he needs is for you to come home and know he's been here 'cause he flooded the place.

still hasn't decided if he's gonna stay the night.

(well, he has, because he always does, but he's at least trying to entertain the prospect of skipping out. for the sake of his ego.)

a huff of laughter slips through his mouth and all his gaps, watching his mirrored image in your vanity. "fucking pussy-whipped, dude."

"oh, touya, don't say that," he raises his voice several octaves, eyes falling closed as he lays back on your bed. sinks into it, really, as if it's trying to swallow him whole. as if he wants it to. "watch your mouth, hm, hm, hm."

and then he laughs for real, because he's fucking stupid.

what do you look like right now, he wonders. how'd you do your makeup today, and if you wore your favorite scrubs or settled for the ones that are a little too big. who've you spoken to. who had the gall to make you laugh. after knowing your nearly every goddamn move for half his life, being in the dark — fucking literally — has him distracted. side-tracked, for the past two days since he's seen you.

you're asking a lot of questions lately. ones he can't answer. things are — moving into place, changing, and they're all preparing for the grand finale.

touya is supposed to be preparing for the end, and instead he has his face pressed into your pillow, trying to scent himself in you so that he'll go unnoticed, just for a little while. really shouldn't even be here because he's got real important lieutenant shit to do, but —

no. because he's fucking pussy-whipped. and he ain't even gotten any yet.

touya wonders if you'll take the night off, when he kills endeavor. if you'll take the week off, when he's killed in turn.

touya wonders who is gonna walk you home that late at night.

fight-or-flight kicks in when the keys sound in the lock, but dabi's preparing for the end, anyway, so he just lays there. watches the amber glow of your living room lamp as it's twisted on, listens to the soft sound of your footfalls and maybe a plastic bag or two. you mutter something to yourself and his lips twitch, and when you stroll into your room, your eyes are on your phone.

when the light flips on, he groans and buries his face, muffled. blinded. "ah, fuck!"

the wavering breath you gasp in has him snorting, and then the knock against the wall has him peeking at you, squinting. you've got a hand over your chest and your phone is face down on the carpet and you look like you've seen a ghost.

right now that metaphor sucks, with everything on his mind.

"touya," you exhale, and his toes curl in his holey socks like a little fucking schoolgirl. "god, you scared me half to death!"

right now that metaphor sucks.

"turn the damn light off," he groans again, "some of us are trying to get some shut eye."

your expression melts down into one he's used to; yeah, it's been two days since he's been around, but he's answered when you called — "just to check" — so you shouldn't be all pissy. a little upset, because that ain't hard to do, but this is the best he can give you, with the time he has left.

even after you flick the light off, he can make out the soft curve of your cheek and it releases him from some shitty, unnamed thing; he wouldn't call it fear or panic or anxiety, but maybe something like it, if he wanted to be honest. and he doesn't.

a little flicker of want comes to life in the pit of his stomach, at the sight of you kneeling on the bed to lay beside him. he's not gonna die without fucking the life out of you, but your touch is making him too jittery tonight. has him on edge, and not the sexy kind.

"well hello stranger," you muse, tucking hair behind his ear before fiddling with one of his hoops. tense as he is, he should probably tell you to cut it out, but — fuck it.

"i'm here to rob you. gimme all your valuables and i'll let you live."

and because you're a fucking — little weirdo, you just tilt your head and crinkle your nose, already grinning. "what if you are my valuable?"

"shut the fuck up," he gripes, back curling like a cat as he faces away from you. the lilt of your laughter drags across his spine like a fine point, making him shiver and itch. "though we were s'pposed to see a movie, or something? not kiss each other's ass."

despite the curtain he's closed in your face, you still scoot closer to him, press your face against his back. "well, i'm sure it's too late now, all the last showings have probably started." you take his silence for disappointment, and are quick to appease. "we can watch something here though, if you'd like."

"i was expecting popcorn."

you snort, "that'll probably hurt your stomach, but i can make some." silence unnerves you again and you poke at his hips. "do you mind facing me?"

dabi does mind — but moments like this are what he'll want to remember. you're so close that his nose bumps yours, but you just smile at him, a little shy, like he hasn't known you your whole goddamn life.

"missed you." gently, your eyes close, like you're so fucking content that you could fall asleep just like this. "i know you can't tell me, but...i hope everything's okay."

and — touya has to fist a hand in your hair and knock his forehead with yours — softly; he's not trying to have any repeat incidents.

"i said i'm here to rob you, now tell me where the money is," he grits, "and maybe i'll even keep you for myself. like a little housepet."

"my wallet's out in the kitchen," you hum, wrapping your hand over his own until his grip loosens. "you can have it, just don't hurt the guy here in my bedroom."

"fuck him," dabi rasps, and you gasp, all dramatics. "i'll torch the idiot."

"then i'll fight you." again with your grinning; you hitch a leg over his waist, like you'll straddle him any moment and — whew. okay, your touch isn't making him that jittery. "you'll have to go through me first."

it's fucking bullshit, how true that is; preparing for the end means letting go, unfurling the hand he's had on you for so long. the very idea has him rolling the two of you over, pressing you firmly into your passion-blah-blah-blah sheets so that you're stuck, with no means to escape. some feral voice inside touya's head reminds him that you're his, because he's fucking earned you. all the waiting and watching he did, how hard he's worked to get you like this; beneath him and laughing and unbothered by the macabre of his hands and lips.

preparing for the end: yeah, he's working on it, but it ain't something he's got time for tonight.

too bad, so sad, but — he's got a movie date.

[blanketempress]

One final night

Plot : I got a little carried away and wrote something for Mariella. A conversation with Cecilio right after she died. Set in 1962.

Warnings : a bit of gore here and there. Reflection on parental abuse.

Length : 2600 words give or take

Setting : Vampire the Masquerade - our Los Angeles campaign

this is backstory for backstory characters who never show up in the campaign itself

Her breath escapes as white smoke from her lips. If only it was cigarette smoke.

The mausoleum was never her favorite place. Understatement. Cecilio’s weird lab is, always has been, fucking creepy. Now though, there’s something strangely comforting about it. A familiarity, the whispers that used to usher her away now murmuring welcome home, welcome home. The air clings to her form, wrapping around her, thick, like a coat. Dragging her.. elsewhere.

It’s always been cold. Not that she can really feel it anymore. Everywhere is cold. Everything. Everyone. 

Her eyes drift back to Cecilio. He’s humming to himself. Or to her? She’s lying in front of him, unmoving, she can see herself from where she’s sitting, on the edge of the table. Funny how that works. His hands are gentle on her skin, she can see it. Cleaning away the gore, mending what still can be mended. He’s not looking at her, not really. Neither the corpse, nor the ghost. There’s only the task at hand, preparations he must have done a hundred times.

It’s almost touching, really. Like a parent tending to their child’s bath. One last time. Something stirs at the thought. The gentle twirl of air seems to heat up. It’s not relief, it’s anger. Burning.

“Where’s Livia ?”

The question escapes translucent lips, along with a wisp of smoke. From the corner of her eye she can see that he’s stopped, only for a second. He heard. He takes his time, cleaning up a sponge, wetting it with hot water to try to erase the traces of the fight from her face. Hah. Nothing much he can do there. The nose is broken, skin caked in brown dried blood, teeth missing, more than she cares to remember losing.

“Your mother is busy, Mariella.”

Not the right words. She heard them before. Times and times and times again. From her, from tutors, from strangers. On the phone, on letters, scribbled notes left on the kitchen’s counter. 

She’s busy, Mariella.

A meeting. An important affair. A business trip. 

An empty chair at a recital. A birthday with no messages. 

She learned not to expect any. Not from Livia.

She turns again and suddenly forgets the words, the cutting expression.

Not from Livia, no.

“You came for me.”

There were times. Warm embraces. Actual chats. Sure it was boring most of the time. How is school. How did the rehearsal go. When she got into the secrets of the family she realized that none of it had ever been genuine. Still. At least he tried. Even if it had just been some game to him, there had never been a word louder than the other, never an angry glare. Never a hit. Just that unnerving smile. Satisfied, patient.

The same one he is wearing now as he cleans up what was left of her.

“Well, I have come to reclaim every single one of my descendants.” 

He nods to the wall, to the hundred alcoves lining it. Some are closed, some are open, some have names. One, she knows is for her. He’s even brought lilies to that one. White ones.

“Why?”

This time, he looks at her. At the ghost sitting on the operation table. The smile is still there, though hesitant. As if he’s wondering if he’ll tell her. Wondering what he’ll tell her.

“Why, because you are mine. You are all my blood. I would never let anyone else get their hands on any of you.”

Possessive. At least that makes sense. At least he doesn’t do her the offense of talking about love and care. His hand is frozen, and he looks down on it. On her face. He did a rather good job actually. Without a heartbeat the blood doesn’t gush out that much, maybe with a bit of makeup and some work the right side might look decent in the end. Unlike the left. Nothing to salvage there. Skull caved right in. At least it had been quick. Not even vampire vitae can heal half a brain. A mercy, compared to what it felt like when her lungs started to fill up with her own blood. Burning, drowning.

She looks away.

“You know-” the voice is Cecilio’s. He’s still staring at his hand. “-your grandmother was a ghoul as well. Not the one you know, no. Anzola. My first wife. You are hers, as well as mine.”

Through the apathy, through the weariness, she still takes the bait.

“What happened to her?”

“Same as you. She died.”

For a moment they both stay quiet. He’s never been one to overshare. She knew, of course. She’d been in the mausoleum more than once. She saw the names on the alcoves. Now there’s a hint of genuine curiosity. As it turns out, she doesn’t need to push him at all to get the rest of the story.

“Her master let her die at my feet. I never got to find her. He was a busy man, you see. Maybe dawn was closing in on him, I cannot say that I remember. He saw that his blood was not enough, so he took me instead, and we left her there.”

It sounds like such a distant memory, like a man describing a painting he has stared at for hours rather than a retelling of a moment filled with grief and anger. Well. He did have centuries to get over it.

He continues.

“When our oldest son died, ah- I was a ghoul still. His master wanted him for himself. So, well… I killed him.” The laugh is genuinely fond. A fondness that strangely doesn’t sound so out of place. And he waves his finger, like a grandfather who let out a family secret. “Don’t you go tell on me. His Sire is still sore about that, you know? Pitiful old man. Anyway- I took my son, and brought him here. It wasn’t much, back then. More of an alchemist’s lair than anything. And that night, I killed my master as well. The funny thing about having a servant who hates you is- no matter how much blood you feed them, if someone comes with more blood, and the promise of your head on a spike, my, my. I still remember his face when he realized how lazy he had grown, and for how long his blood had been replaced in my veins with his enemy’s.”

“And you still were embraced after that?”

“Oh my darling, of course! Granted, it was a gamble. Since I was able to kill a former master, you are very right, my Sire could have feared that I would turn against him as well… But he liked me, and he liked my work. He helped me give my son a decent funeral, and we worked together for the next couple decades. It is a shame that he was killed. Though I can swear I had no part in it, I was rather fond of him… I still have his wraith in my pocket watch!”

That last bit sounds so cheery, the way he grabs the watch to show off is so genuinely excited, Mariella cannot hold back the laugh that escapes her. Only in this fucking family… He places the watch back in his pocket, dark eyes lingering for a second on her translucent shape before turning away again. Back to work. Cosmetics, preservation products. She cannot smell but the memory is vivid enough, mundane enough that she can imagine the chemical and floral scents filling the air.

It takes hours until he’s satisfied. Candles are burning, and weird symbols are traced all around her, all over her white skin. Everything ends, eventually.

The anger is back, burning in her chest. Somehow this time she can feel the edge of the table when she grasps it. Is that really all she can hope for? The care of a half senile, controlling old man, not a single friend, not a single familiar face to say goodbye to. Only the disdain of those who survived, the continued indifference of her mother. Living or dying, it all happens the same, doesn’t it.

Cecilio clears his throat, and there’s the rattle of metal. Tools clattering as they drop back down.

“My, my… Quite powerful already, are you not? I would appreciate it, however, if you left my instruments alone for the time being. You will need some guidance until you can make something out of that energy of yours.”

One blink. The room looks the same. She doesn’t feel the same, though. When she gets up, the stone has chipped under her fingers.

“What if I don’t want to become anything? What if I just want to fade?”

The smile doesn’t wither, but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t scold her for the outburst. “My darling, you have already made your choice. You want more. Now the real question should be… what is it? It takes a lot of work to bring back something of a person once they are dead, you know? A violent death helps, sure. But you, my dear, you did most of the job all by yourself, I have to say, I am impressed. You will be so beautiful…”

“Oh, shut up Cecilio.”

For a second there’s an old instinct, an old, deep fear ingrained in her surfacing. But it’s not Livia in front of her. It’s an old man, smiling patiently, as if he had dealt with hundreds of petulant children before.

Maybe he will be the last person she ever sees, or talks to. The idea is revulsing. And yet as soon as the first words get out of her mouth, she knows she’ll get them all out. “I’m dead.” Frustration, anger, years and years of shattered hopes, of folding in half for someone else’s plans. Trampled dreams and swallowed bile. “I’m fucking dead, because of her. She knew this mission was compromised, she knew we wouldn’t make it out. She didn’t care to give me a warning. And all she has to say is that she’s busy?” The air trembles again, turning to ice, turning to fire. “You know what? Actually I’m fucking glad she’s not there, she’d only come to let me know how disappointed she is that I failed that mission.”

“Come now, I do not think that she knew.” There’s the smile. Not a trace of worry. Oh, he’s prodding, she knows he’s trying to nudge something, trying to get a reaction out of her. Right now she doesn’t care enough to stop. Too many times tasting blood from biting her tongue, and this time might be the last.

“And that's supposed to make it better? Either she knew and she didn’t care, or she straight up didn’t bother to check anything before sending me in.” There’s a crackling sound, rain on a powerline, and the candles flicker. For all her rage, she still finds it in her to be surprised that her voice hasn’t cracked yet. Instead it booms, bouncing on the walls, reaching sleeping things in the drawers and the alcoves. One tries to rise and she shuts it down with one wave of her hand. “She’s never been there. She was waiting for me to kick it from the day I was born, but she was too proud to off me herself, too much of a coward to face the family if she gave up on me. I was hers. But now I’m not, that must be quite a relief. You want to know what’s fueling me? You want to know why I’m still here? I want her dead. I want to tear her apart and watch her bleed. I want to see her crawl and hear her plead, beg, apologize, anything.”

The last echo fades, the light slowly grows back to normal, candles now half consumed. And all is still again. Quiet.

Cecilio keeps staring, focused, mouth slightly open in a hungry smile, with an intensity that makes him look insane. Drinking her words, admiring her form.

“So what’s with all that?” she asks, eventually, gesturing at the table “You’re going to bind me, but what do you want me to do? Because here it is. You want another watchdog, I want to kill my mother. I don’t see how that’s compatible.”

A laugh, a chuckle really. “Oh my darling. You are already bound. All I did was make sure that it would be stable, and on some fertile soil.” He extends a hand to touch her cheek, and somehow she can feel it. Solid. He catches her tear with a soft brush of his thumb. “Mariella, my heart. I cannot let you achieve your goal. You are very right, I am in the business of making watchers, protectors. I cannot let you harm one of my children, you are my bond to this world, all of you. But yours is this anger. What will become of you once it is gone? I cannot let this happen.”

He turns back to the table and slowly starts snuffing out the candles. One by one. So the ritual is already done, then. Done and over.

Anger is still there, but coiled, dormant for now. Only waiting for a spark to ignite it again.

“You had a very eventful night, my dear.” The voice is soft, exactly that of a parent gently coaxing a child to bed. “Sleep for now. I will make sure that nobody comes to disturb you until you feel rested.”

He put the shroud over her broken body, like a cover, leaving her face visible only for one last kiss on her forehead, a masquerade of affection before he covers it. There’s a finality to it when he turns back.

“Now… Before you go, would it be rude of me to ask you for a little help? I would be able to figure it out with some work, but it will be day soon. May I know what your anchor is? I will take good care of it, I promise…”

She can feel apathy growing again, as if the world started dissolving around her. Or maybe she’s the one slowly fading. She shrugs and points at the other side of the room, at the low table on which her clothes are piled. “My jacket.”

“Ah! Brilliant.”

A pointed look, as if he wants to ask more. Well. She did want to tell someone. She thought she’d get to tell a friend one day. As a funny story maybe.

Beggars aren’t choosers. 

“It’s the first thing I bought with my money. Without her breathing down my neck. I hid it for weeks from her. She didn’t care when she saw me wearing it though. Didn’t notice.”

Maybe it’s only fitting to end up as a ghost.

Cecilio nods, folding the jacket with a certain reverence. For a moment Mariella takes the time to really look at him, an old man, a shadow of someone who couldn’t let go of his loved ones. Vampire, ghost. Not much of a difference, is there. Maybe he really could only ever see reflections of his lost love in all of his children. But that was so much more than anyone else gave her. He was there. Fake or not, it was still a comfort. Someone to talk to, someone who cared, no matter why he did.

She holds up her hand, and he seems surprised, almost startled when she puts it to rest over his cheek. Not quite material. Not quite gone yet.

“Hey, gramps?”

“My heart?”

“Thank you.”

Welcome home, the mausoleum says, embracing her.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So 'Technically A Cutsleeve?' is very...wishy washy for me lol. Like I know the general direction I'd like the fic to go in, I have the major beats planned out and I have since I first got the idea for it back in 2021. But how I get there is still very much up in the air, and I've written a lot of scenes that I don't even know if I'll use or not anymore. In one version of the fic (that currently exists and I can post it if y'all are curious) Mo Xuanyu and Lan Jingyi admit their feelings to each other when Lan Jingyi is laid up sick in bed while visiting Jinlintai for the first time and Mo Xuanyu comes to help take care of him since he'd already been helping out in the healing pavilion anyway when Jin Ling came to fetch some medicine for him. The problem is that that timeline/series of events doesn't really work out for the fic anymore because of other choices I've made, but I do still love the idea so I can't bring myself to delete the scene.

I also have a short follow-up scene after Jingyi is well again and he and Mo Xuanyu are enjoying their new relationship...but it doesn't make sense anymore, because I can't use the sick scene anymore, and also the timeline really doesn't work out by then. But I still really like that scene too, so I don't want to get rid of it either 😂 All of this to say, since I don't know if it'll make it into the fic or not but I still love it, I thought I'd post it here for WIP Wednesday, so here's that follow-up scene of the two of them walking through the gardens a little while after they've established they want to be together:

-/-

“You’re awfully smug,” Mo Xuanyu notes with a little jostle of their linked arms. “Would you like to share with the class?”

“Nope,” Jingyi replies, not even attempting to stop smirking. “Nothing to share that you don’t already know.”

“Oh?”

Jingyi readjusts his hold on Mo Xuanyu’s arm a bit to bring him in tighter against his side and his smirk only grows as Mo Xuanyu sighs gustily.

“A-Yi it’s been a month, are you still this smug that you wooed me while on your ‘deathbed’?”

“I was on my deathbed!” he protests, not missing the sarcasm in the question. “Sizhui had given me up for a lost cause and was just waiting for nature to run its course! It’s not my fault your taste in men runs towards those who are sickly and coughing up a lung.”

Mo Xuanyu sighs loudly again and for the sake of their bickering Jingyi pretends not to see that he’s smiling. “Fujun’s memory is stunningly accurate and does not at all lean towards exaggeration.”

Jingyi stumbles gracelessly over his feet at the title – Mo Xuanyu is eerily good at that, finding precisely what form of affection is going to hit him the hardest at any given moment. “You do not play fair,” he chastises even as his ears and cheeks burn.

“And you need to find a time to tell Xuan-ge that we’re courting since we’re really doing this. I know I’m eccentric, but we should still do this the right way.”

That sobers Jingyi up quickly and he stops in his tracks to turn to Mo Xuanyu so he can study his expression. He’s beautiful today (as he always is), wearing a full face of makeup and one of his best gowns, miles of fluttering deep blue silk with an orchid huadian between his brows.

“You being weird doesn’t mean I’m not going to court you properly,” Jingyi protests immediately and he sees something tight around Mo Xuanyu’s eyes relax just for a moment. “A-Yu, why wouldn’t I court you properly?”

“Who said you wouldn’t?” Mo Xuanyu deflects instantly, making as if to turn away to continue on their chosen path through the gardens. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t.”

“A-Yu.”

“A-Yi.”

“A-Yu-“

“Okay stop, we already know we can argue like this for hours,” Mo Xuanyu huffs and Jingyi smirks again as his partner gives up so easily. He’s rewarded with a shove that he immediately counters with one of his own, though after a moment he turns it into an excuse to reel Mo Xuanyu in, tuck him against his chest to hold him close. They’re alone in the gardens, no one yet aware that they should be accompanied by a chaperone, and so he brings Mo Xuanyu in close and presses his cheek to the side of his head.

“I’m going to do this right,” he murmurs quietly against Mo Xuanyu’s silken hair, currently caught up in a complicated updo full of little pins and a pair of blue-jeweled buyao pins. “You deserve all the same things that everyone else gets when they’re courting, anything you want, and I want to give them to you.” Jingyi’s breath catches when Mo Xuanyu slides his slender hands up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, cool and comforting and tugging him downwards so Mo Xuanyu can lean in and press their foreheads together (being mindful of his own huadian and Jingyi’s ribbon, which he hasn’t touched yet).

“What if I wanted to say fuck it and elope?”

Jingyi snorts at that and nudges the tips of their noses together for a moment before he straightens again, arms still loosely wrapped around Mo Xuanyu’s waist. “Fine, let’s go find your brother then and bow to him and then you can come back with me to Gusu so we can bow to Qingheng-Jun and Lan-xiansheng.”

“Oh gods you’d actually do that, wouldn’t you?” Mo Xuanyu marvels and Jingyi smiles widely.

“Anything you want, A-Yu, I’m serious. So be careful what you ask me for.”

Mo Xuanyu stares at him for another handful of moments like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing before he gives himself a visible shake and withdraws to link their arms again and the gesture makes Jingyi’s heart stutter in his chest just as much as it had that very first time. They don’t get much longer to enjoy each other’s private company as they’re soon joined by one of the nursemaids bringing little Jin Ye to Mo Xuanyu, but even then his heart doesn’t get a break.

“Do you remember A-Ling’s friend Lan Jingyi?” Mo Xuanyu asks the toddler perched in his arms as the three of them walk together (now spaced appropriately apart). Jin Ye shakes her head ‘no’ and pops her thumb in her mouth as she regards him with evident imperious distrust. Jingyi does his best to look properly chastised by her glaring rather than utterly charmed. “He’s Yu-shushu’s second favorite person in the whole world, so you have to be nice and show him what to do since you’re my very favorite, okay?” Jin Ye considers that for a long moment, little bottom lip pouting out impossibly far, and then she nods and Mo Xuanyu gives her a smacking kiss to the cheek that makes her giggle. How in the world is Jingyi not supposed to fall in love?

[wowzerwyrm]

As a cis guy, I’ve been considering going on estrogen and HRT.

Cis, in this case, being that I was born male, identified as a boy in my youth, still do identify as a man and use He/Him pronouns, and have no desire to stop if/when I do start on HRT. I probably wouldn’t still label myself as cis at that point, but until then I am just a guy.

I’ve been generally genderqueer and non-conforming, at least as far as I could be in the church I was raised in. Pink ties and long hair and occasional painted nails was closer to blasphemy than not half the time, but I was lucky enough to have a mother and sisters that had fun playing dress up with me so long as I didn’t actually wear a skirt to church.

Now I’m out of that church and in a world and a city where trans and genderqueer people are common, where my colorful socks are standard, where I don’t have to be limited to shoulder-length hair or even skirts. I can genuinely do whatever I want now.

And I’m thinking about HRT.

I’m not a girl, or at least not exclusively. Maybe genderfluid, maybe something else. I don’t feel dysphoria about presenting as a guy, and I’ve always enjoyed being seen as having positive male qualities. But I also think I would enjoy being seen as a girl, more often that I am now.

And under it all, it I had to give myself a specific label or gender based on how I feel inside, (at least compared to how I hear other people talk about it) I’d probably go with agender, or genderless.

I think, if gender is a construct and a performance, then it’s one I enjoy being an actor in, but for others more than myself. At home, I don’t feel any urge to wear anything particularly defining, and I don’t really want to transition in any way just for my own sake. Almost entirely, it would be so I could go out in public presented one way or another, meet people, make friends, flirt, play the part I’ve chosen for the day.

I’m thinking about HRT, so I can more easily do both. I want to be closer to androgynous, not so I can avoid the gender binary but so I can more easily play either part.

And, most importantly, so I can be a little weird about it.

I want to push some of the norms and expectations of those around me, have interesting conversations. I want to follow the rules of being either a guy or a girl so I can more easily break them in interesting ways.

Sometimes, I’d like to just be a girl in the eyes of others, body shaved, makeup on, outfit casual and normal, chill, friendly. Sometimes I’d like to be a little more sexy, loud, silly.

Sometimes I’d like to be a guy, tall and confident and cool and kind, or maybe with ripped jeans and funky clothes and hair styled all over.

I want to go outside as someone else, see how people react to it, and play into it, play around with it. I don’t know what my coworkers will think if I grow boobs but never tell them to call me different pronouns, and it makes me nervous, but also interests me.

I’m just worried, mostly, that I won’t be able to keep up with the image in my head. It’ll be a lot of work, and I’m not sure if some of the side effects will be worth what I’m trying to achieve, especially when I have other priorities, art and writing as well. As well as if I choose to bind fairly often, that won’t be good for my ribs long term.

I’ve got an appointment tomorrow to go in and talk about it and possibly get started on hormones, if I choose to. I’m excited, and nervous, and not sure what I’m going to do.