#I got inspired by once upon a studio for this one!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseoksluna · 2 months

Text

CENTURY | myg

pairing: boyfriend!idol!yoongi x f. reader

genre: smut

word count: 3.6k

summary: when yoongi needs inspiration for the song he's been working on, you're not hesitant to help him.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: idol yoongi working in his studio being all stressed out is a warning on its own, he's also immensely hot and calls himself oppa (god help me i am a weak girl), mentions of a nasty punishment, yoongi is kinda mean, and a little bit horny, clit spanking *heart eyes*, oral sex (f. receiving), praise kink—usage of stickers, raw sex.

note: my god, this was a drag at first but because i feel sm better today, i finally finished this and i feel myself returning to the hoseoksluna that i was before i got sick. :( this was fun to write today omg. yoongi is absolutely delicious in this and i can't wait to start writing smoke 3 after this. my babies, enjoy this smutty one shot. i love you. spam my inbox, i miss you! give me a warm welcome, please. MWAH.

Habitually, singing for him was your escapism. You’d close yourself up in a bubble, withdrawing from the surrounding gray world, and you’d slink away to a realm brimming with vivid colors. In his songs, you could be anyone. A figment of his imagination that had more life in its veins than you ever had the taste of. You’d forget, for hours upon hours, about the anguish of your daily life and mental issues that would trouble you and, taking his hand, he would take you to Neverland, watch over you, then take you home.

This time, however, he didn’t take you to that fantasy land.

He took you somewhere darker.

The energy in his lab was potent with something that tickled you ever so gently when you stepped inside. A dusky room with an even heftier, crepuscular layer of vexation. You could feel it thumping beneath your skin after it grazed you with its fingertips, weaseling its way in, settling, stilling. Your boyfriend didn’t turn around when he heard you shut the door, nor when your tights-clad feet paddled on the floor, as absorbed as he was in his work. No shoes inside the Genius Lab—that was the first rule, one you were disciplined enough from him to remember, even if someone woke you up in the middle of the night.

You paid a great price, once upon a time.

You had walked in with your Nike’s when he called you over, wet and smeared with the snow from the winter’s artwork outside. Despite the fact you rubbed the soles on the mat in the building of his workplace long before you strutted all the way to his studio, there were still little snowflakes that clung to your sneakers. It was your first time there and Yoongi seemed to have forgotten to let you in on the rules. And once he saw the mess you made, he told you off.

Kissed you quite roughly.

Made you promise to never do that again, playfully.

Sank you to your knees and bent you over those melting snowflakes. Spanked you so hard that he engraved the first rule of the Genius Lab into your system.

No shoes inside.

Then, he patted your head.

Gave you a silver star sticker, resembling the snowflake, for being such a good girl that learns well.

You had stuck it on the table right beside his laptop, an etched memory that you recollected every time he’d invite you over.

It’s what he’s mindlessly rubbing with his fingertip as you walk over to him, another winter later, embedding your digits into the ebony night of his hair, the long strands so satiny and sleek. Yoongi gazes up at you from his computer, pale violet flecks adorning the skin beneath his weary, yet ever so trenchant eyes, and you pout at the sight of him. There must be something wrong with the process of his album-making and he’s determined to fix it.

Yoongi takes off his headphones, wraps an arm around your waist. You’re wearing a little black dress for him with a low neckline that uncovers everything private as he leads you to sit down on his lap, greeting you with a raspy hello and a kiss that tells you he needs you more than his own countenance lets on.

You linger in the close proximity, peppering his mouth with tiny kisses that make him visibly relax—his shoulders slump against his chair and he lifts your knees, placing them in the snug crook between his side and his arm, his hand spreading forest fire down your calf, stopping at your ankle, swathing it with those flames.

You cease your kisses, overcome with his body heat, and butterflies zap you in your tummy when he continues to kiss your mouth with those sweet little pecks.

Prolonging the last kiss, he peers down at you with the world’s most affectionate adoration and you blush. You’ve tasted the dulciness of all the seasons with him, and yet it feels as though you’ve just started dating. His love has long made its home within you, but you can still sense its freshness in your bones.

It will never get old.

“I love these, baby,” he husks, his eyes growing more lidded in the heated, cozy atmosphere guarded by the fire of his body, and he drags a hand up and down your leg, spreading his admiration on the nylon of your tights that he speaks of. “You came just at the right time.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck while he paws at your feet and you soften, brushing your fingers through his hair. You think he needs to get out of this place and breathe in some fresh air for his brain to recuperate and be filled with the flimsy, ivory sparks of inspiration.

It’s snowing outside.

It always seems to be when he invites you to his secret spot during the winter months.

“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask, requiring the specifics in order to help him as much as you can. “What is it this time?”

Yoongi grumbles nonsense in your neck, the sound muffled and indecipherable, and you laugh, softly, lifting his head.

“I literally didn’t catch a word you said,” you whine, squishing his cheeks, and Yoongi feignedly sobs, scrunching his eyes shut. You laugh, wiggling his head, encouraging him to tell you what made him darken the energy of his studio so devastatingly.

He inhales a deep breath in and takes his hand to your bum, fondling it. “I miss your pussy.”

You burst out into obscene laughter, wiping a hand down his face. “Be fucking serious.”

Yoongi chuckles, but then breaks into false little sobs all over again. “The melodies aren’t working together, I can’t transform the ideas in my head into this song and I just miss your pussy so bad. I wanna eat it.”

So that’s the source of that dark energy in the lab.

He’s horny.

He wails into your bosom, deepening your laughter that melts into an endearing coo. One that lifts his head and makes a grin blossom on his pale face, a dab of color rushing to the surface.

A pretty lotus flower, opening for you.

You poke a finger into his cheek, your heart constricting at the cute way your nail makes a round dent in that flourishing flesh. “I thought you called me over because you wanted my vocals.”

Yoongi squeezes your bum, sucking in a breath. “I did. I wanted to finish the melodies so I could record your voice, but shit fucking happens. I thought we could write the lyrics together.”

You bite your lip, finding the idea mesmerizing, and your chest clenches, a certain longing for it forming inside. A light flickers in Yoongi’s abysmal eyes at your reaction—and you wish you could fix this situation for him, remove the block and replace it with a creativity of your own.

An idea pops into your mind, abruptly.

You widen your eyes, your smile growing, little by little. Yoongi straightens, his features mirroring yours, and the picture hope paints upon his countenance only drives your idea forward.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” You clasp a hand over your mouth. “What if we write the lyrics first and just hum random melodies, see what fits best?”

He thinks about it, tilting his head. And then destroys the realm that your little idea created.

“I’m sorry, baby, but that never works with me. I know artists that do that, but whenever I tried, I just reached a dead end,” he mutters and you pout, furrowing your brows. He lets you soak in it for a little while before he shakes his head. “I have a better idea.”

Yoongi pushes his laptop to the side and lifts you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing, setting you down in place of it. He moves his chair forward. Spreads your legs. Kisses the inner of your thigh and you fall back, your palms landing on the ivory keys of his keyboard and creating a soft music that raises his brows.

“Do that again.”

You smile and lift your hand, dropping it on the same notes that you did by accident. He looks over to see which ones you played and he kisses the front of your thigh before he reaches over for his notepad and pen, writing it down.

“You’re my little angel, I swear,” he says without taking his eyes off of his writing, then he extends an arm behind you and finishes the melody with a certain ease that causes him to relax even more—and your smile to deepen in your face.

You blush, feeling like that winged creature—assigned to his side to help him.

“I brainstormed some lyrics the other day,” Yoongi mumbles and begins to stare you down with an intention that coils in your gut, your heart quickening its rhythm. “How about you bounce off of it, make up some lyrics while I eat you out? I can play the melody for you that we just made.”

Your mouth parts, your throat drying. Warmth pools in your core, the idea of Yoongi playing on the keyboard while he does something so intimate to you bringing you down to an abyss of madness. He hands you his notepad after he flips to the page with the lyrics he mentioned. Your eyes skim over his neat, black handwriting, the random words that could string together a sentence if there was a little work put in it.

But how are you supposed to focus in those circumstances? It’s not just his dick that makes you braindead—it’s his tongue that does it in the first place.

“What do you say, baby?” he persists, dipping down and scattering kisses along that sensitive part of your thigh, his breath wafting over your core as he switches to the other one, spoiling it with those same wet kisses.

You catch a glance of his shining tongue and that does it for you.

Your heart thumps, violently—and your pussy drools.

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

That does it for him, too.

He goes to rip your tights right in the middle, but you yelp, stopping him.

“No, don’t rip them. They were expensive and they’re my only pair for the winter.”

Yoongi gives you a look, cocks his brow. “Why didn’t you say? I could buy you some.”

You clamp your mouth shut. You don’t like to use his money to buy yourself personal stuff because you have a job of your own and you’re able to take care of yourself, but lately, with prices rising and the rent growing more expensive, there’s little from your paycheck that you could spend on things like these. And you still need to save up for way tougher times.

“I could never ask you to do that, are you kidding?”

Yoongi’s gaze darkens. “Who said you couldn’t?”

You open your mouth to argue with him, but only a yelp comes through when he swiftly tugs the waistband of your tights over your bum and up your legs, lifting them in the process and folding you in half.

You’re sure he’s ripped them.

You’re fucked.

You lean back, landing once again on his keys and at this point he laughs, darkly, telling you which notes to write down and with a shaky hand—you do.

“You’re getting so many fucking stickers today.”

Your heart stops its feral beats and you gaze down at him with a tormented look, your brows furrowed, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. Yoongi bites his lip and gets his sheet of silver little stars.

He peels one out. “This one's for you coming at the right time.” He sticks it to that one side of your inner thigh that he left unkissed, the sticky part latching to your skin without a hint of a problem. “And this one’s for your smart little brain.”

He sticks it to the bone right across your cunt, smoothing it out with his thumb that then begins to travel and crosses the distance to the soaked center of your panties. Yoongi sucks in a breath as he peers down at the outline of your flesh, parting your thighs a little to gaze up at you through his lashes. “You have two tasks,” he rasps, brushing his lips across your clothed, dampened flesh.

You grip the table beneath you, letting out a whiny sigh, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pay attention.”

A simple, low order and you pop them open, breathing out in staccatos. He runs that thumb over your clit, puts a little pressure over it. You bite your lip, straining your ears, but the faint pleasure makes it a little bit difficult for you.

“I’m gonna rub this clit and you don’t get my tongue unless you tell me the name of the store, where you’re getting new pairs of tights from today.” He focuses on your nub, circling it with soft grazes that he knows they get you riled up nice and fast, needy and drenched. It’s what he does when you’re watching a movie together and wind up not knowing how it ends. “And once you come for me, you get another sticker for being such a good girl. Is that clear?”

Your lungs heave and your mind spins, your brain cells shrinking with your arousal. You lick your lips. Wetness stains your panties even more. “And the other task?”

He slaps the side of your thigh, making you jump. “I asked you a question, did I not?”

Such abrupt meanness. Other times, it would get you going, but today it’s not something that you’re really feeling. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re ovulating and you need the gentleness that he’s more than capable of giving you.

You drift a hand down his face, stopping with your thumb at his lips, tracing the upper line. So soft, so puffy. “Be nice to me, Yoongi.”

His eyes round and a glint perches itself on the top of his chocolate irises. Yoongi sets your feet on both of his armrests. Leans his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a tender half smile.

“Is that an order?” he asks, flattening his fingers across your clit and strumming it, the pleasure heightening and you sink your teeth into the bottom pillow of your mouth, your body following the wave of the delight he provides you, rolling.

“Yes. Be nice or no pussy.”

He gasps, lowly, his smile transforming into that smirk of his that has the tendency to weaken you through and through. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

Your heart throbs and you love it. “Yes, I would.”

You go to close your legs and sit up, but he stops you. “Okay, fair enough.”

Oh, that solid calmness of his, perfumed with his horniness. You grin, pleased. “Will you be nice?”

Yoongi licks over the bare skin of your thigh, rubbing his face in it. “I’ll be an angel like you if you do the tasks.”

You roll your eyes. A quid pro quo. Fair enough.

“Okay, be an angel to me then and come here,” you purr, aware of the fact that he got you into this mirrored maze of his horniness and you love it, delight in it, which is the sole, unabashed reason why you tug the back of his head down to your cunt, holding him to you.

Yoongi opens his mouth just at the right time, licking over your clothed clit and moaning. But then he fights against your hold and spanks your pussy, smiling playfully up at you while biting his lip.

You jump, whimpering.

“I didn’t hear you say the name of the store,” he retorts, rubbing, properly, your bedewed nub with slow, agonizing circles.

Fuck.

Your breathing quickens and you scramble your blank brain to remember any store that has the least expensive tights. You say the name of the first one that pops up.

Yoongi doesn’t like your answer, though.

He spanks your clit, gently.

“Think again. I’m not buying you anything that will last you for a day. Don’t play me.”

You can’t help the heavy smile rising on your face, your cheeks heating up so much that they ache. And it helps you, his bull-headedness on buying you high-quality garments that are worth the money, to fight—like he did against your hold—your deeply imprinted independence and utter, shyly, with little hiccups, the name of the store that will keep your legs warm throughout the unforgiving Korean wintertime.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Let Oppa take these off now.”

Your stomach flips at the title. You’ve always been obsessed with it—as it, without fail, provoked your independence and slowly transformed you into the mindset of a little girl, taken care of by someone stronger, smarter and older than her. All while keeping it intact.

Yoongi knows you can do everything on your own. And he supports it. But it doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give you a hand.

The same hand he now uses to bring your panties to the waistband of your thighs near the back of your knees, dragging it down that skin. He spreads your cunt with both of his hands, gasping lowly at the sheen that greets him and magnetically pulls him in.

He kitten licks your clit and your elbows tremble, giving out on you—another melodies wafting through the air that make him chuckle into your pussy, engraving vibrations that encourage you to lean back all the way and take what he gives you.

“Write that down, can you do that?” he asks, and when he hears you clicking his pen, he tells you which notes those were. You scribble it down, messily, your hand quivering and painting an obscure picture in his notepad as he begins to suck on your clit in intense waves. You shudder, terribly, the lines of his own pen dark, long and disordered like you.

You give in, moaning so loud that he intones with you.

And what you never expected—the tones of your noises provide him with an inspiration he cannot miss. Withdrawing with a wet chin and stealing his pen from you, he jots it down, propping the notepad on your thighs, smiling at the picture you painted.

Writes something else down, too, while you quiver for him, waiting for his tongue.

He kisses your thigh, ravagedly. “Sing these lyrics.”

Taking it from him, the words blur on the paper because he sinks a finger inside your heat, curling it to that spot that he favors, fucking you with a fast motion that unables you, completely, to let out a sound colored by his geniality.

“Come on, baby. Sing for Oppa.”

You cry out, clenching your muscles—scream as he latches his mouth to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his equally genius tongue.

The lab spins, not just your mind.

“I can’t—I can’t. Oh my God, Yoongi, fuck,” you drag out the curse word, the notepad falling out of your hand and plopping onto the ground.

Yoongi hums, delighted, sucking on your nub so vivaciously that your orgasm nears. As if sensing it, he adds another finger in. Validates the incoming of your splendid explosion by making quick, little, deep sounds that lead you to that peak.

You grasp his hair, tightly, humping his mouth. From your own spill screams that fade into soft moans, resplendent of the notes he liked so much and he fucks your hole faster. Pulls out his mouth just a little, flicking your clit from side to side—and you realize he did it so he can watch you come for him.

Come for your Oppa.

And you do. With a squeak, one that fades to a legato, tender moan of his title. With an eye contact that freezes time for a century. And, suddenly, just like that—it’s just you, him and the winter.

Snowflakes that ache to seep into yours and his cheeks.

Yoongi growls. His male pheromones spill out of him like liquid that washes over you and you get a sticker.

Right in the center of your mound.

And he fucks you into wintry oblivion, a snowstorm that swaddles you closer and closer to him. The table rattles, key notes sound out, the slapping of skin conjures ideas in the magnificence of his brain. And then he comes.

With a final stroke and a rope of his cum all over the sticker near your pleasured cunt, he resumes the time.

But both you and him are newly constituted by that winter-kissed century, chiseled by it and irrevocably changed by it.

Yoongi cleans you up and dresses you. You find out he didn’t rip your tights and you give him such a soft, endeared look for it that he coos, chuckling, and pats your disheveled hair, smoothing it down. He kisses you once he fixes you up and, grabbing his keys, phone and wallet, he drives you to the mall, to that exact store you mentioned, to buy you a myriad of tights to last you for a half of a century, grazed and fondled by winter.

And he leads you back to the studio, besprinkled with the snow’s affection, where you watch him create a song out of your pleasured voice, sampling one of your favorite oldie’s tunes that you end up yanking him up to his feet to dance with him to it. The raspy voice of Ray Charles envelops Yoongi’s hands as he guides your hips and he kisses you until the late night hours.

And in those late night hours, he watches you, like the angel you are, as you sing the poetry he wrote with your help.

Neverland doesn’t exist anymore. Not for you at least.

The darker place he took you to is one breathing with the gesture of helping your lover. Warm, moody and timbered. The licks of flames and the earnestness of a love that depends, without fear, on the other person.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ divider by kthice ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

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always-just-red · 2 months

Note

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Rafayel tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #rafayel x reader #rafayel #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #l&ds rafayel #qi yu #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 year

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Subtle-tea (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary/Prompt: “You’re only semi-lucid and are sort of reaching for my face, and for various reasons I shouldn’t kiss YOUR face but your hand is right here and I still need to convey affection.” AKA. You and Benedict drink too much of Colin’s special tea and it spurs you to act upon previously hidden feelings.

AN: Benedict is the bee’s knees, just a silly lil art guy. I got inspired and I’ve got two more Benedict fics coming out rip. But it’s just so difficult to write for Bridgerton cus you can’t write any gay stuff without it being tragic and/or a secret. Oh well, don’t expect me to write much more female reader content of my own volition/not inspired by my friends.

Content warnings: Reader uses she/her, use of Y/N and L/N, is referred to as “wife”

Masterlist // AO3

You had no idea what on Earth was in that tea. But you would have to ask later, because currently you felt as light as a feather and giddy as a giggle, laying on the sofa in the art studio as Benedict was launching himself between two walls, orating about his great desires to create. By far, you were experiencing the greatest emotions on the whim of your artistic associate.

“There’s just so many colours that we are privy to, and we take every single shade for granted!” He declared, his arms wide open to the heavens.

You pointed at him in an accusing manner, “Have you seen purple recently? It’s glorious! No wonder it was the colour of status in the Roman Empire, I too would want it all for myself and my friends.”

“How selfish you are, Miss L/N,” Benedict scolded, “Surely everyone should be given the chance to wear such a colour.”

His anger faded fast. As endearing as it was, it was nothing compared to that grin of his. So naturally you decided to make him smile even more with a ridiculous notion that just jumped into your woozy mind.

“Do you know what would happen if my mother knew where I was?” You said in a loud whisper.

Benedict pouted and nodded, riddled with pantomime guilt as he leant over, “You. Me. In a room. Alone.”

“Unchaperoned,” You said then gasped, your hands clapping against your cheeks in shock, “I would be ruined!”

Benedict mimicked your appal by dropping to his knees before you, “We would have to marry to save your reputation!”

“Imagine me, your wife!” You threw your head back as you flashed your bare left hand to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, an inhibition screamed at you to stop lingering so openly on something your sober self was set on not happening

But your heart grew gleeful as Benedict grasped your hand gently.

“I shall imagine it!” He declared and lowered his lips, and planted a loud kiss upon your knuckle - right where the engagement and wedding bands would sit. You lowered your chin just in time to see this with your own eyes before Benedict met your gaze again, still beaming with roguish delight, “Oh what a beautiful imagining it is.”

Your legs curled up beneath you on the couch, and you fell over in hysterical giggling. You clasped your hand to your chest and cradled it like a newborn. As you lay sprawled out, Benedict popped into your field of view with his hands either side of your head, tactfully avoiding your hair.

“Your laugh is like music! As your husband, it would be my purpose to make you sing at least once a day.”

“Then kiss me again, you silly man!” You squealed, offering your hand once more.

Balancing on one arm, and completely unaware that this compromising position was aiding in your dizzy frenzy, Benedict kissed the same spot then turned the palm against his cheek. He held it there as he said:

“Look, it’s like you were sculpted to hold me.”

Euphoria ran riot across your body, your heart beating so fast you thought you would die from delight.

“And you were carved to be held by me.” From your vantage point, with newly founded confidence, you tried to pull his lips down to yours, but Benedict resisted.

“We shall not kiss ‘til we are married.”

Eyes wide, you squeezed the back of his neck to keep him close, “Is this a proposal?”

“I do not think we are in the right state of mind to make rational decisions,” and Benedict bumped his nose to yours, causing a little laughter before continuing: “But marrying you is the sanest idea I’ve had all evening.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict reader fanfic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton oneshot #my writing #r: fem #wc: <1k

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bleeding0heart · 2 months

Text

This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again

For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment...

🌟Starring🌟

Celestial Daifuku Cookie 🔮 (My OC—One the beasts who didn't get corrupted)

Shadow Milk Cookie🎭

The betrayal part is inspired by this amazing post🌟🌟:

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

As the seal weakened, the crack embedded in the bark getting wider, Celestial Daifuku Cookie could feel a way too familiar sense of dread stirring in his stomach.

No... Impossible... It can't be, can it?

And then the worst happened. The vines eventually withered, giving way for the gap to crack bigger, hence freeing the beast within...

”Ahhhhaha!... Doesn't this fresh air just smell DIVINEEE?"

Shadow Milk Cookie.

Shadow Milk's booming voice echoed through the empty forest of Beast Yeast as he popped out of the Silver Tree, staring down on them with a deranged grin, his eyes flashed with chaos.

He eyed them for a moment, until his gaze fell upon a particular cookie: Celestial Daifuku Cookie.

Even though millions of years had passed, his sugarcube has changed a lot, he still recognized, still remembered. The painful memories of his beloved, abandoning him and his friends to tend to the weakling crumbs, had been carved deep into him, soul and flesh, body and whole.

"Well, well, wellll~... Look what we have here~? Care to give your old friend a bigggg hug, sweetheart? I've missed you dearly after I got imprisoned behind those nasty bars and chains!" Shadow Milk faked a pout, before his iconic smile returned, along with his "unbearable" singsong tone.

"It seems like the seal has gotten weaker as time passes by so carelessly... You still haven't changed at all, Jester."

"Awwhhh.... Don't say it like it's a bad thing~! My poor little heart feels like it's being torn in two by your cruelty, sweetheart~! What do you say we have a dance to reunite after being separated from each other for so long, eh? I've got some moves that'll make even the moon jealous~!"

"No—" Celestial Daifuku didn't even have a chance to refuse, as the Jester grabbed him by his hands, fingers intertwining. Shadow Milk's hollow laughter filled the place, as he forced his sugarcube to dance with him by force, controlling their movements like a puppeteer with his puppet.

The other cookies could only watch in helplessness. "Let go of him!" Pure Vanilla demanded, concern etched across his face. He raised his staff and pointed it at Shadow Milk, who only gave him a mocking grin in return.

"Hmm... Now why should I do that? Silly Vanilly'! Did you really think that you're the one in control here? Oh, no, how terrible! But fret not, my darling audiences! Because I, Shadow Milk Cookie,..." The Jester pulled the Oracle closer, holding him by his waist and hand in his. "... And Celestial Daifuku Cookie will perform a once-in-a-lifetime show together, tonight!"

#crk oc #crk #shadow milk cookie #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk crk #oc x canon

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skzthelomlhehe · 5 days

Text

A lustful collab

Genre: music, fluff, smut, romance, slice of life.

Warnings: sexual descriptions (as the genre suggests)- fingering, harsh language, bleeding, first time, unprotected sex.

Description: In love with your voice he asks for a collaboration. You invite him to your studio but seeing how he was gonna be late you decide to do... Questionable things. And alas he walks in on you doing that cuz you're dumb and forgot to lock the fucking door and things get spicy hehe~

A/N: Heyy! This is my first time writing at Tumblr and also my first take on smut that isn't roleplay lmao the story itself is mostly fluff with smut in between. Hope it doesn't get too stretchy eeee- I literally came up with the plot while listening to connected fr and got even more inspiration from MOVIE by JUNNY srs! anyways~ hope this little delulu one shot can feed yalls delulu hearts~ also PS: A warning is given before the smut starts JUST IN CASE idk why I added it but I did lmao

Vibe with:

It was beautiful autumn noon. Birds chirping, people probably at home napping or at work or whatever. The street was empty and you were inside your room working on your new song at your parents' house. After a while of humming and singing, you put down your guitar and took off your headphones before looking out the window of your room.

A quiet and peaceful afternoon painted with golden hues of the pretty sunset. Perfect time to record your song. So you decided to take your things which included your guitar, phone, a big tripod and a black foldable chair.

You headed out to the yard with your hands full of stuff barely managing your balance and not accidentally tumbling over and risking every bit of fortune you spent on your set up.

Upon reaching, you successfully manage to put down your stuff in the correct position which was unusual given your extraordinarily clumsy nature. But oh well, luck was just on your side. After you were done with all the silly little labor you finally sat in your chair and started recording. The melody flew gracefully, your guitar cooperated and didn't buzz as your hands guided each note, your voice obeyed your pleas and didn't crack but escaped your lips soft and smooth. The rhymes flowed by as if it were a river devoid of any bounds and for once you didn't feel disrupted or out of breath. Everything went down smoothly which was, once again, quite unusual given your tendency of taking a thousand takes.

All this while, your eyes remained shut as if naturally. You couldn't open them and frankly, neither did you want to. You preferred the soft breeze that tickled your skin, making your hair flow just the tiniest bit. As your song came to an end, you slowly opened your eyes and switched off the recording. Just as you were about to check the video you just took, you were startled by a soft clap followed by a deep, husky yet smooth voice. One that you knew a bit too well. "That was so beautiful! You've got an amazing voice, mate!" The voice spoke out. You looked up, utterly shocked thinking your ears were playing tricks on you. But when you did look up, your heart skipped a beat. In a good way obviously!

There he stood, an averagely tall man, eyes sparkling as if millions of stars were held in them, the dimples at the end of the corner of his smile made you feel like you would drown in them and you honestly don't complain. His hair curled perfectly into a neat fuzz. These details, you knew it too well. A bit too well. Christopher, a well known musician who was the heart throb of many. He's your idol, someone you look upto a lot and also the one who inspired you to go against your family's disapproval and start a career in music. If not for him, you wouldn't be here making music right now.

you quickly put down your guitar on the chair and grabbed your phone stuffing it in your pocket while rushing to him who was standing behind the fence out on the sidewalk. "O-oh gosh thank you...! You flatter me!" You said flustered. You could feel your face getting hotter. Shy? Embarrassed? Flustered? Anything that falls into the similar synonym spectrum, you felt it.

"I'm serious! You make a great deal of a singer." He said, his smile Perking up hiding his eyes. He extended out his hand in a gesture of a shake, "I'm Chris by the way. Just moved here a few days back, nice to meet you!" And almost immediately like the silly fangirl you were, you held his hand, albeit gently unlike those psychos who don't know personal space and bowed "I-I'm Y/N!! It's very nice to meet you too sir!" And with that you just buried your self-esteem deep inside the ground. Sir? Seriously? You could do better Y/N.

Upon blurting out whatever you said, you were met with a rather charming chuckle. You looked up to see the man in front of you laughing, still holding your hand and covering a teeny bit of his smile with his other hand. "You're a funny one, Y/N!" He said, still having the after effects of the little laugh. He let go of your hand, you felt a little disappointed when he did so but you didn't bother to make an expression out of it. "So it seems you live around here? Ive heard you sing but never really saw you before." He spoke, possibly making small talks. "Ah no I used to live here. This is my parents' house, I come by every other week. I live 3 blocks away actually." You spoke quite calmly even though there was a storm raging inside your mind. But no one needs to know that except you and me right? Moving on!

"Ahh~ I see~ well! We'll still be seeing each other some time, no? Can I have your number? I don't really have many friends my age round here." He pulled out his phone and held it in front of you expecting you to type your number in. "o-oh sure..!" You took his phone rather abruptly cuz once again you're clumsy cuz why not~ and typed your number in. You made a quick call from his phone and saved your number in his. You handed him the phone before taking yours out and saving it as well. "great! So I'll text later yeah? I gotta run now, but I'll see you later?" He spoke, looking at you expectantly. You just nodded with a bright smile. "That's that then! See ya, mate!" He cheerfully bid you goodbye, turning away and looking at you one last time with a wink and waving his hands in a peace sign.

That was when you went into a faze. And the next thing you know, you're lying in bed, your stuff neatly organized. "So uhh... I was singing in the yard, someone came, said I sang great, the someone so happed to be my fucking crush and idol and he asked me for my number and he said he'll text me... He... He asked... He ASKED FOR MY FUCKING NUMBER OH MY FUCKING GOD IS THIS A DREAM?!?!?!" After taking your sweet sweet time processing whatever happened you started kicking your feet like a teeny tiny little girl in Love even though you're a fucking (your age) year old woman. (Y'all freaky minors I see you so you better get going)

And then all of a sudden amidst your delulu moment, you get jolted awake to reality by a text notification. When you open your screen your face lights up into a bright ass smile, heart in your eyes and just- delulu all over again.

And just like that you snatched yourself a date (not really) with your favourite local artist! How lucky aren't you? Anyways~ you looked at the clock and it was 4:16 pm already. You rushed up, swifting through your closet only to find nothing wearable. "Do I really not have anything here??? Why did I take everything there with me ugh!!!!" You whisper yelled cuz after your little yelling sesh earlier the last thing you want is for people (especially Chris) to think you're crazy. After failing to find anything wearable you quickly grabbed your things and drove off to your studio.

After a lot of deciding you finally found an outfit you wanted to wear and quickly headed into the shower. And after managing to shower, get dressed, put make up on and do any other finishing touches you were finally ready! You took one last look at yourself into the mirror and felt extremely self satisfied. The clock showed 5:35 pm and it takes about 15 minutes to get there by taxi and the last thing you want is to be late. So you hurried down and got yourself a ride and right to the cafe you went.

You've been to this cafe for a good long while now. It was your favourite spot to chill and the bells attached to the door was always a calming welcome for you. This time although, that same ring sent shivers down your spine. And you didn't know why. You were, as usual, greeted by a gentle young man who was pleased to see one of the regulars back again.

"a single seat again?" He asked as you entered. You shook your head, "not this time boy! I've got company" and soon a giggle left your lips followed by a confused, curious and pleased 'oh?' from the man. He smiled and led you to a comfortable seat. A perfect seat is what you considered it. A big glassed window which gave the perfect view of the lit up streets outside. The cafe was warm and coazy like its name. You took your coat off and draped it over the chair lean before taking a seat. A few minutes of waiting which seemed like hours your clock showed 5:56 pm. You were starting to get worried. Was he gonna ditch you? Were you gonna get stood up by a person you admire so much?

As you let yourself spiral into your overthinking, you were brought back to reality with a knock on the wooden table, "hello? Anyone there? Earth to Y/N!" You looked up, blood rising to your face making it warmer. "A-ah yes! S-sorry about that. I sorta uh... Lost myself there, heh." You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear albeit quite faint. "Right, it's all good!" The man took a seat in front of you, "lovely view." He said, looking out the window. "Ah... Lovely indeed." Your awestruck fangirl eyes stayed glued to this man's face, observing every little detail. His beautifully curly brown hair, big lips that stretched into a smile, that deep and gorgeous dimple that dug at the end of the corner of his smile. Lovely... He was more than just lovely.

"So... Which one of the view is lovely here, exactly?" You didn't realise he was looking at you. His right elbow rested on the table while his tilted head rested on his palm, his face painted with a shimmering smile.

You were dazed by the view in front of you, "You..." You muttered, your head falling off your palms, "N-no I mean both! I mean- no- the outside- or like no uh maybe both? Uh- ah! I don't know!" You hid your face within your hands and heard a soft chuckle. That chuckle tickled your ears turning them bright red.

After much awkward blabbering you guys finally got down to business. Having discussed a few of the details, you guys agreed to meet on the weekends in your studio since his new studio wasn't fully done yet. You both decided to discuss further details and make a contract on Saturday at your studio.

Time passed by in the blink of an eye. Before you know it, you guys have had chatted endless conversations in the meantime. Gotten much more closer. And before you knew it, your phone display showed 8:35 AM on a Saturday morning. Chris was supposed to arrive at 12:30 pm, grab lunch with you and then work on the song.

You looked around realising your room was a total mess. You had 4 hours to clean everything up, shower and get ready and you were quite determined.

You cleared everything up, every Speck of dust lying around was removed in what felt like an instant. You quickly took an everything shower. Washing your hair, shaving, skincare etc etc everything.

After all was done, you checked your phone again. The time showed 12:23 PM. You felt content, giving your chest a light pat of approval. You put on some casual clothes and put up your hair into a messy bun. You patted on some powder, a little blush, tad bit of eyeliner and some soft lip tint to tie it all together.

Just when you were done with everything, you heard your door bell ring. Anticipation grew with each step you took running to your front door. "coming!" You yelled.

Opening the door felt like opening it to a beam of light. You were greeted by a warm smile and a "Hey, pretty!" In the softest most endearing tone youve ever heard. It was like music to your ears. You replied with a "hey handsome~" as a giggle left both your lips.

You knew better than to delude yourself but right now... For a tiny bit... You wanted to think this was more than just some collaboration and something perhaps a little more special. Although getting to Collab with this man was a great deal of honor in itself.

You guys drove to the restaurant in his car. The way his veiny hands glided on the steering wheel made you feel things. The way he spoke, the way he sat there driving, the way he laughed, the way the wind ruffled his hair ever so softy, everything made butterflies rage inside your stomach.

You guys vibed to some music, both singing in tune as he drove. At the restaurant you both chatted while waiting for the food. Chris, curious of the food you were having, took a small bite and regretted immediately with how spicy it was. He coughed "good- lords! How do you eat that?" You chuckled. "or you're just too much of a baby to handle even this little bit of spice? You even have food on your face!" "Eh? Where?" He scanned through the corners of his lips trying to wipe the food away. Watching him struggle, you took a piece of tissue and leaned in to wipe it for him. It felt like time stopped, like some kind of a cliche rom com movie. You both stared at each other for a few moments before he cleared his throat. You sat back down clearing your throat as well.

After the lunch, you both came back to your place. For a second it was awkward but that tension was soon killed as he initiated a small talk that dragged into a conversation.

Getting home, you both talked about the collab. You both jotted down a small contract that his manager would review later to confirm it. But you guys were too excited to wait for any of that and decided to start working on the song.

You both presented ideas you guys had come up with in the meantime. While he took a look at the sheet of printed paperwork you switched on your computer. Time flowed like a river with clear path.

"Should we make some alterations in that part?" He spoke, pointing his pen towards the lit up computer screen. "Which one? This?" You moved your cursor towards the line and selected it. "No not that one, the one below. Here this-" without much thought, his hand trailed to the mouse and placed right about your hand. He clicked the line he had originally pointed to, "I think we could make it a little more feely here-" he paused and realised where his hand was. He looked at you, your face flushed a cute shade of pink. Seeing you, his face, too, flushed in a soft blush before he abruptly took his hand away. "R-right yeah we uh we could do that"

You looked away, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit your lower lip feeling a slight sense of disappointment having him pulled away. His hand was big on yours, the warm weight of it felt comforting. You've had your hand held by a lot of people, family, friends, exes. But this particular moment made you feel like your hand was on fire and frankly, so was your entire body.

You felt a wet slick in your lady down there. You quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You had considered that maybe it was... Something else ... But you had thought maybe it was just your period coming a day earlier. But once you had made it into the restroom, you realised, it was, in fact, what you had anticipated and that anticipation was definitely not your period.

You went back, things seemed a tad bit awkward. You didn't like it. You didn't like it at all. You hated the tension that had been created just because of a trivial matter like mistakenly putting his hand on yours while reaching for the mouse. Although the tension was there, you guys still managed to get some work done. After a while, Chris got a call from his manager asking him to get home since it was already 9:12 pm.

Time sure flew. You wished time would stop so you could spend more time with him but you knew you couldn't. So you swallowed down your disdain and walked him to the exit bidding him goodbye. It was bitter, but it is what it is.

You went back in finding yourself in a faze again. You could barely make sense of anything that was happening. You saved the progress on your computer and went straight to bed because frankly, you didn't have any energy left for anything else.

(just imagine some spicy stuff cuz idk how to write a wet dream 💀)

The next day, you woke up to your kitty feeling extra soaked. You groaned thinking it was the after effects of the wet dream you just had. But to your utter surprise and absolute agony, it was none other than that annoying cousin you despised. That's right ladies, you got your period. Periodt.

You took a quick shower before cleaning up last night's mess. You knew your cramps were about to HIT today. And you dreaded it. You could barely move around the entire day because of the excruciating pain you were in. No wonder your sex drive was so high and you felt pain in your waist for the past week.

Time ticked to 6 PM and it was about time Chris arrived. And just on time, you heard your doorbell ring. You tried your best not to look too groggy. You opened the door to his bright smile again, all the tension out the window. You smiled back, your abdomen almost on the verge of busting.

"Hey... You alright?" He asked, his eyes glistening in concern. "Y-yeah... I just got my period today and the cramps are wild." You replied. "oh... Then... Should I leave? I mean-.. I don't wanna cause you any more pain" you couldn't believe how painfully nice he was. Gosh he was just... So considerate. But you didn't want to miss this opportunity. You didn't want to wait an entire week. "No! No it's okay! I can do it! Don't worry!" You blurted. "alright then. But let me know if you're in any pain ok?" He wanted to make you feel comfortable and just him being so considerate made you feel like you could get through a thousand cramps.

You nodded before letting him in. You guys started working on the song again. But unfortunately, as optimistic as you were before, you couldn't help but feel the pain resurface ever so often. The pain felt harder each time it returned. At some point you couldn't help but groan, clenching at your tummy.

"Are you... Are you ok? You don't look too good." He held your shoulder ever so softly. "Ye-yeah I just... Need to use the restroom real quick. I'll be back." "Sure, take your time."

Just as you were about to stand up, your legs gave out and you tripped. Chris, who was right there, happened to catch you in time. Had you fell, your head wouldve went straight to the corner of the table cracking it open. Your heart raced. But, you couldn't tell if it was out of fear or the fact that you were practically groping his chest. Or maybe it was both.

You got up in a rush, your head felt fuzzy. "ah im- im so sorry! I didn't mean to!" "No- no it's alright! You were about to fall so I just... It's okay I don't mind... I mean... Uhh I would mind if it was some random person who just got all over me without permission but uhh what I mean is it's alright I didn't think anything of it..." He looked away turning his head, his ears a bright red.

You hurried off to the restroom and locked the door. "Stupid stupid! You stupid girl! Agh why did you have to fall on him??" You whisper yelled. Your hands still felt warm from the sensation. Your nipples had perked up and you felt aroused out of your mind. But you didn't want to feel it. You didn't want to be a creep and make him uncomfortable.

Time skip ...

A month had passed now. You guys got even more closer now. In the meantime you had many more physical contacts that ignited sparks within you. The sessions didn't last in tensed awkwardness anymore and you guys were having fun.

You were checking out your calender as usual to check out if you had something important in the coming days. Your period for this month had ended two days ago, you were supposed to have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday and the rent was due on Thursday. Everything was checked out. You looked at your phone that showed 10:34 am on a Saturday.

You suddenly get a text and your face brightens up when you see the sender of it.

If this was a while ago, you would find it illegal to even think of getting coffee with THE Christopher. Asking him to bring along coffee and having him treat you to pastry as an apology just would've felt illegal and a faraway day dream. But here we are.

You flopped down on your bed, scrolling through the gallery in your phone. It had endless pictures of Chris. Even more of him than you, your family and friends combined.

You squealed with every picture as you realised again and again how attractive he was and this very man was coming over every other weekend for a collab. It was just... So unreal to you.

{Warning: here the smut starts so if you're not ok with that please skip until you see a divider. Thank you.}

As you were thinking of all this, you found yourself feeling a tad bit aroused. You put your phone down as you glided your hand through your body gradually sliding in down inside your shorts.

You rubbed your clit that had been a swollen bud and your hole had been leaking ever since, thirsting for a little action. You pulled your shirt up revealing your breasts as they bounced and you pulled you pants down. Your pants hung by your ankle as you slowly rubbed your entrance gently.

It throbbed. It wanted more. You started thrusting your finger in. First your middle, then both your middle and ring finger and soon your index as well. You gradually became a moaning mess. Occassionally calling out Christopher's name under your breath as you fondled your boobs.

Oh how you wished he were here with you. As you were in your moments of pleasure laying unbeknownst of anything, a thud jolted you awake from your fantasy.

You looked towards the door of your room realising the clear view of your kitty you had put on to anyone who stood there. Horror overcame you as you realised who was standing at the door. Chris. His bag had fallen, possibly due to shock of seeing you like that.

His face was utterly surprised. You quickly closed your widely spread apart legs scrambling to hide but it just didn't work out. "h-how are you here?!" You asked, shame and guilt overcoming you. "We-well the door was unlocked and I called out to you but you didn't hear me an-and I just-" his face brightened red. You looked down unknowingly and realised he had a painful bulge that looked like it would pop out any moment now.

"y-you... Why are you..." You pointed, he looked down and quickly hid it. "I'm oh lords I'm so sorry! I didn't-"

As if your body moved on its own, you got off the bed and walked closer to him. He stumbled as you did, "wha- what are you-"

"don't you..." You shut him off, "don't you feel repulsed? You heard everything didnt you?" "I- I mean I did hear you... Calling my name but.. uh.. no no... I ... I don't feel repulsed... Not in the slightest!" He blurted out. You weren't usually the bold type but today, for some reason, you felt unstoppable. You took the bag of coffee from his hand and set it down on the shelf near the door. "So... You're turned on by what you saw?" He looked away turning his head before softly nodding. That nod in itself made you even bolder. You slowly glided your hands to his shoulders, letting your arms rest around his neck as you leaned closer making him flinch.

"Come on, Chris... Look at me..." You whispered. "N-no I..." "But... I want you to look at me." You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He looked at you clenching his fists trying his best not to lose himself.

"Do you... Want to touch me...?"

"I shouldn't..."

"it's not about should or shouldn't... Do you want to? Or not?"

He clenched his jaw, unable to speak anything. You leaned in closer to his face. "if you don't want it... Push me away right now..."

And with that, you leaned in even more. Both of your lips not even an inch away from each other. You could feel his warm breath against your skin. You felt so... So turned on. You'd have thought he would push you away. But to your utter surprise...

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in to a kiss. You flinched and were caught off guard but soon gave in to the passionate kiss. He was rushed, but not too much. It felt good. Your lips touched in perfect harmony. You mewled as you felt his tongue on your lips. Without any complaints you let him in.

Your tongues twirled in a beautiful rhythm. Your breaths clashed with each other. You grabbed onto him a little tighter, pulling him in towards the bed. He pushed you on the bed, kissing you again.

You broke the kiss, unbuckling his pants revealing his throbbing member. His dick was nice and long. Perfectly thick and girthy. You panted at the sight of it and your pussy throbbed. You wanted him. You want to take him.

You got up and pushed him down on the bed as you got on your knees. "Can I...?" You asked and he nodded biting his lips. You could see it in his eyes. Just how eager he was. He huffed as you blowed softly on his tip.

You rubbed it against your soft cheek making him groan. He was already overflowing with precum. You slowly glided your finger through his member. It both scared and aroused you to see his size and how veiny it was. It was throbbing and flinching every now and then.

"just... Do it alreadyy.." he begged and you couldn't wait to comply. You slowly started shoving it inside your face. Licking every bit of it. He threw his head back grasping onto your hair, pushing your head further down. You moaned again finding it incredibly hard to take it all in.

You choked as his tip hit the back of your throat and he let you go instantly. "Ah! Im sorry! Are you ok?" He asked pulling you closer to your face cupping your cheeks. "Yeah.. I'm.. I'm okay. I just don't have much experience with deep throating." You spoke still catching your breath. "it's ok if you don't want to. I don't wanna force you to do something you don't enjoy."

"no it's alright. I want to do it. So just relax." You went back to his groin. This time, taking it slow. Rubbing his member and licking the tip slowly preparing to him all in. Steadily you start putting it inside your mouth. It felt weird at first and you felt overwhelmed but you were determined. You wanted him to feel good.

It gave you immense pleasure when you heard his groans and moans. "Fuck baby you're so hot..." He moaned under his breath. That just aroused you even more. You went back up to his face, kissing him passionately. He pushed you down on the bed and took off his shirt.

Good lords that was the most sexiest and hottest thing you've ever seen. He soon made his way down between your thighs. First kissing your inner thighs along with soft bites that sent shivers down your spine. You yelped a moan when you felt his fingers circling your poor swollen bud and moaned even more when you found him licking it. You thanked your soundproof walls. You thanked yourself who worked endlessly to afford that soundproofing. It just meant you could moan as much as you wanted.

"Shit... Chris... Im... Fuck im so close...!" You mewled. He came up to your face, kissing you relentlessly again as if he was just going to devour you. "can... Can I put it in..?" He asked with these adorable puppy eyes. You felt his tip rubbing against your entrance. "yes.. god... Yes please... I need to Chris... I need you so much... Fuck just put it in already..." You moaned. You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him. You needed him so bad.

"but... There's no condom? Should I go buy some?" He said pulling away and almost getting up. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer. "Fuck condoms just do it! Im safe." (A/N: please use condoms even if you're safe. Your partner might not be safe 💀)

And without much ado, he started shoving it in. It was your first time. You didn't expect it to hurt so much. A drop of tear trickled down your face as you gasped in shock. "agh... Ah fuck... Fuck fuck fuck that hurts ngh..." You cried. It hurt. It hurt so much. You could feel your hymen tearing apart. Blood trickled down your hole. "fuck... Im sorry... Just... A little more... I promise it'll feel better..." Chris reassured you. He pulled you into a tight hug kissing your shoulders and neck. You cried in pain. It was even more painful than you had imagined.

You wrapped both your hands and legs around him. It was painful, but you wanted to keep going. After a while, it was in. His whole dick was completely inside you, wrapped by your walls. "I'm in... Im in..." He huffed. A wave of relief flooded over you. It hurt, but it was started to feel a little better now.

He gently started moving. Each thrust started making the pain leave your body. And before you knew it, you were overcome by pleasure. Once what was a cry of pain turned to cry of pleasure.

You moaned loudly over and over again calling out his name. "Fuck angh Chris...! Aah... That... That feels so good nngh.." you moaned.

He thrusted inside you, relentlessly. "good fuck baby you feel so damn good... Oh gosh you're so pretty... You're so beautiful... Fuck I love you so much..." He moaned back. You were caught off guard. "you... You what...?" Another tear trickled down your face. Your heart raced like crazy. "I... Im sorry but... I just happened to feel it I... I don't know..." He stopped thrusting feeling hesitant. You smiled before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Why'd you stop, silly? I love you too... I always have... It feels like a dream to be here like this with you..." You pull him closer. He sniffles, his eyes teary and he smiles before kissing you and thrusting again.

He hugged you, kissing and sucking on your nipples leaving hickeys where only he can see. You suddenly felt a knot form inside your belly. And you knew what it was. "Shit Chris... Im... Im close... Im so close..." You mewled. "I'm... Im close too... Let's... Let's cum together yeah?" He groaned. "Yeah... Yeah let's do that..." You huffed.

Before you know it, his pace fastened and so did both of your grunts and moans. The room filled with noises you made and the noises of skin slapping, kissing and sucking.

And at last, that knot loosened and you felt yourself flinching and trembling and reached your climax. He quickly pulled it out and came on your belly before falling on you. Both of your pants unsteady. He turned to lay down on the bed, your head on his arm. "Fuck... That felt so good..." He huffed. "Yeah... It did.."

.......................

{smut ends here lmao}

After a while of laying there and catching up on breathing. You both decided to take a shower together and clean up. Having done that, you both made your way to the bed and laid next to each other.

"So... You like me?" Chris asked as he caressed your head gently. In embarrassment, you hid your face in his mascular chest. "We-well... I've been a huge fan of yours for a while now and... I've always liked you but... Ever since we've met... I couldn't help but develop feelings more than that of a fan to her idol..." You replied shyly.

"that's... Quite nice to hear actually..." He smiled. You looked at him, your chin rested on his chest. "what about you?" You asked.

"hmm... I've actually seen you before. You performed in the 'Railway Bar and Restaurant' right?"

"Oh yeah... I did. Don't tell me... That was the first time you saw me?"

"I did! I was amazed by your performance. Shortly after I saw you all over my tok tik and tube-you (names are funny cuz I'm pretending to be funny hehe). I really liked the music you made and I wanted to meet your for the longest time. You caught my eye like none other. So when I met you again, I couldn't help but feel this... Attraction towards you."

Your face flushed red. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It felt like you were dreaming. "So... What are we now...?" You asked, unsure if you should ask to begin with. "I don't know... What do you want us to be?" He asked. "I... Kinda want us to date..." You spoke hesitantly. It felt illegal to ask him that.

But surprisingly enough again, he chuckled. "Sure let's do that." You looked at him in disbelief. He was smiling. And he wasn't lying. He was kidding, he wasn't playing. He really wanted it too. You couldn't help but giggle. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then on your lips.

Time skip again....

Another few months later, the collab was finally done and posted. It turned out to be a super hit. Both your and his fandom went crazy over it. At first you both wanted to keep your relationship private but one day a fan saw you guys on a date in a cafe. You were scared his fan would be mad and throw a tantrum but what you didn't expect was that she would start squealing and saying how she was expecting it because of the collab.

A few weeks later you guys came out public. There were two sides of the fans. One side was toxic. They bashed you both for the choice you made. But the majority were nice and supported your decisions.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, but you guys were together and that's what mattered. Both your families loved each other as well. Although your family was a bit hesitant at first, they soon caved in to both your career and your relationship.

Things were looking up and you were happier than ever. Your face was all over different social media platforms, in a good way. Your popularity increased significantly and people loved the music you made.

Now the rest of the story? That's for you to write :3

This is the end of "The lusfut Collab" and I hope you guys enjoyed it! See you again with another oneshot! Byeee!

#Spotify #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #romance #smut #bang chan #skz smut #skz imagines #skz stay #skz x oc #skz x y/n

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juniefruit · 6 months

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☆ Artist Hyunjin Part Two ☆

☆ AHHHH skz anniversary!!! wishing the boys the best!

☆ Originally written as bestie/roommate, but it's up to your interpretation!

☆ Warnings: None

☆ Word Count: 1,000

Hyunjin is an artist. In every sense. He can see the beauty in all things, big or small. He can observe something that might seem mundane, but he always finds a way to reveal its true beauty.

There’s one shelf in his room dedicated to all of his old sketchbooks. Each and every page is filled to the brim with sketches, sticky notes, and pencil smudges. His room has fairy lights adorning the ceiling and dried flowers preserved and on display. An easel sits in the corner. It’s cozy and warm. His desk, oh my. At least a few miscellaneous cups filled with pencils of all shades and colors, markers, and paintbrushes are always in the corner. Really, he tries his best to keep it organized, but when an idea strikes, and he’s frantically trying to get everything on paper, it becomes the least of his worries.

You do sometimes scold him, especially when you find a paint stain on your sweater. You don’t know how it got there, but it’s most definitely Hyunjin’s doing. Sometimes, you’ll be chilling on the couch together when suddenly his eyes light up, he straightens his posture, and speed walks to his bedroom/studio. “Hyunie, what??” “I finally got it! I need to write this down before I forget!” You chuckle, following him to his room.

One of Hyunjin's bigger art pieces is on display in the living room. It’s an abstract piece that looks great against the beige wall. Hyunjin was reluctant to hang it up, but you insisted. “It’s embarrassing, y/nie!” He whined. “What’s embarrassing about it? This is amazing! And I'm hanging it up if you won’t.” You huff.

It’s very rare that Hyunjin asks you to be his real-time model for a painting. The reason is he doesn’t want to trouble you and have you sit, sometimes for hours, while he works. Instead, he loves to secretly keep pictures of you in his ‘inspiration’ folder on his phone. At this point though, he can sketch you in his sleep. Pages upon pages in his sketchbook are filled with your portrait from all angles. You’re his muse. His inspiration. His hand has memorized how to sketch all the curves and angles of your face and body. Sometimes he’ll be buried nose deep in his sketchbook, and the only sound you can hear is the gentle scratch of the pencil against the paper. You’ll ask what he’s drawing, but he would never admit what it actually is. Once in a while he’ll look up at you and smile, as you sit across from him on the couch. You look ethereal in the afternoon sun, he thinks. Maybe one day he’ll gather the courage to gift you a portrait, or show you a sketch. He knows deep down you would love it. But his nerves are like a blockade. Every artist knows how troubling it can be to show your art to the world. It’s like showing a part of yourself, your soul.

Today was friday, an end to a stressful and high-strung week. To destress, you told Hyunjin to put on a casual outfit. You simply said you’re ‘going out’. He decided upon cafe-brown corduroy pants, a sweater vest and a white blouse under it. The top half of his hair was pinned back with a claw clip. You were taking him to the art supply store. It wasn’t that far, just a few subway stops. He didn’t have a clue until you arrived. His eyes lit up when you told him to pick something out. Like a kid in a candy store, he was snaking through the aisles, his hair bouncing when he walked. As Hyunjin was at the back of one of the store aisles, he had a moment to think. He decided that he’d draw you with the materials he bought. And then show you. He could feel the nerves creeping up his spine just at the thought. But he was set. When you checked out, he chose a few sketching materials like a specialized pencil and eraser. The second you stepped out of the store, he hugged you so tight your face turned pink.

He won’t admit he stayed up all night, long after he assured you that he’s actually going to sleep. He’s dialed in, leaning over his desk. A sheet of drawing paper, about the size of a laptop, sits on the wooden paint-stained surace. His eyes squint behind his glasses as he studies each and every stroke of his pencil. Once in a while he even bites the end of the pencil in his right hand as he concentrates. The eyes of your portrait stare up at him with grace and innocence, like a sunny spring day. It was maybe around 5 AM before he finally deemed it good enough and headed to bed. The next day, after you both got back from work/school, he met you in the living room, with his hands behind his back. “I um- I made you something, as a thank you… for the art supplies and, uh- for being in my life.” he extends his hands to show you the portrait of yourself as his face flushes with shyness. “Wow, Hyunie! This- it’s so beautiful! Thank you!” You take the sheet of paper gingerly with both hands. You set it on the coffee table before facing Hyunjin. “Really, you didn’t have to do that. And I’m glad you’re in my life, too. Um-” You look back at the portrait. “How did you make me look so good?” Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat. His hand reaches to rub at the back of his neck with a shy smile. “It’s just you, y/n. I thought that you’d appreciate seeing how beautiful you are in my eyes.” He admits. You hum, totally at a loss for words. “Well, you were right.” You say with sincerity. Looking back up at him, you say, “Speaking of eyes, are those dark circles?”

Read more drabbles & such here~ masterlist

Asks/requests are open!

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshot #skz x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #skz x you #stray kids x y/n

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mariipun · 1 year

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Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Keep A Level Head

Warnings: None. Humor. Just more silly antics. Inspired by the anime “ Aggretsuko”.

Word Count: 834

Brief Description: The Welcome Home cast is alive, living alongside humans. You have been contracted as their Caretaker. Our dear Caretaker has been running around all day, working hard. On top of your daily administrative work, you also have to babysit tend to the colorful ensemble of actors, plus all the other studio employees, who can’t seem to do things on their own.

[Not sure if this constitutes a WH!Muppet AU scenario?? Not sure how to tag it haha]

“Care! Hey, hey! Care--?! Hey! Caretaker! Heeeeeeeeeey!” Julie wails, following behind as you try to ignore her and focus on the task at hand.

No matter how many times you try to address the blonde, she pulls you away from what needs to be done, to what she wants to do. It’s become a bit of an irritating habit, although you’re convinced it’s her hobby, to distract you from your job so you can entertain her grabs for attention.

“Not now Julie, I have a lot of work to do, but I promise I’ll do whatever it is you’re wanting once I’ve got more time—”

“No, I need you now. The new dress I had ordered still hasn’t arrived and I—”

You drone out her increasing insistence, beginning to pick up the pace as you swerved through the crowd of studio employees and other puppets. Unfortunately, the moment the others sight you, the choir of:

“Hey Care—”

“--need you here—”

“Can you fix—”

“Get me some—”

You stop in your tracks, feeling Julie bump into you from behind. With your binder tucked close to your chest, your hands tighten around it. The overwhelming demands from the maintenance team, stagehands, cameramen, and puppets made you fume. It was obvious from your face how feelings of annoyance had now turned into full-blown anger. You tried steadying your breath, feeling the heat prickle at your cheeks, and reminding yourself to remain professional, you need this job, it pays the bills… it pays the bills…it pays the bills….

“Hold on!” You boom, causing the voices to settle. You stand your ground, steeling yourself as you take a breath. “I am extremely busy right now—” You strain, each word slow, with brows furrowed and jaw tight. “Sooo-- I’d appreciate it if you all stop pestering me for a moment, because if I hear one more per—”

“Hey, Care?” Barnaby interjects, poking his head out of the restroom door.

Your mouth shuts, head snapping around to look at him. “What?!”

“I clogged the toilet,” Barnaby responds monotonously, thumb pointing toward inside the restroom, as water slowly began trickling its way outside.

The grip around your binder tightens even more to the point you felt like you could have ripped it in half. Your eyes narrow into a glare, tight lips twitching up into a menacing grin.

“So uh… could you fix it?” Barnaby probes, moving away from the slow leak of water pooling around his feet.

“Please excuse me for a moment…” You seethe, quickly and silently moving your way toward one of the audio control rooms, knowing the padded walls would shield your outbursts. Upon arrival, you slammed the binder down onto the script stand, causing it to wobble and tilt over.

That was the last straw.

You bring your arms up, flailing them around as you release your rage. “What the actual [redacted]?! I just need to do one [redacted] thing! One thing! But nooooooo--! I can’t catch a [redacted] break around here! And why the [redacted] would Barnaby clog the toilet?! PUPPETS DON’T EVEN NEED TO USE THE [redacted] TOILET?!”

You heaved, palming your forehead for a second before sliding your hand over your eyes. You took a few deep breaths to soothe yourself until you heard an audible click and the sound designer over the two-way speaker.

“You, uh, okay in there?”

You drop your hand down to your mouth, eyes darting open to see not only the sound designer but a few of the puppets and two other employees who followed you to your location, staring at you from behind the glass.

You stared back.

Julie had arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest in disapproval.

Wally’s half-lidded, unwavering, eyes peered at you. “Those are some naughty words there...” He commented, his voice crackling a bit through the speaker. Though, reading his expression you could tell he was a bit amused.

“Yes dear, you really should watch your language.” Poppy chimes, as everyone else in the sound room nods in agreement.

Standing there for a moment longer, you finally gave up. Picking up your binder and setting the script stand back up in place, you walk through the door into the sound room, staying silent as Barnaby stepped toward you with a plunger in hand.

“I found this if it’ll help with the toilet—”

You didn’t say anything as you walked past him, only extending a hand, and swiping the plunger from his grasp. You moved on through the exit.

[BONUS]

Barnaby and Wally both stood outside the restroom door, peering in and watching as you muttered curses under your breath and violently plunged the toilet to unclog whatever ungodly thing Barnaby stuffed in there.

Wally: “So, uh, Barnaby?”

Barnaby: “Yeah lil’ buddy?”

Wally: “What did you put in there?”

Barnaby: “Just a bunch of leftover doughnuts from the spread table.”

Wally: “…Why?”

Barnaby, shrugging: “Wanted to see what would happen…”

[For scientific inquiry]

#wally darling x reader #wally darling fanfic #wally darling fanfiction #welcome home fanfic #welcome home fanfiction #marsfics #marsfic #Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker)#Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker) series #[lmao so far ive tried to incorporate a lot more of the WH cast]#[definitely wanna do more of just Caretaker and Wally shenanigans]#[but barnaby is such a goober]#[okay okay im gonna explore more about the cast's personalities so i can write more from their narrative vs just Caretaker's narrative]#[tbh i might slowly transition to script based writing like i used to do in film... but i wanna give the characters justice]#[not make them so one dimensional...]#welcome home puppet show #welcome home puppet show fanfic #welcome home off script

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tartts-blog · 7 months

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My Reputation's Never Been Worse, But You Can Buy Me A Drink (Part Two)

Roy Kent x Fem!Singer!Reader

Taylor Swift Reputation Inspired Series- Requested by @akornsworld

series summary: roy and the reader go from strangers, to lovers, to so much more. inspired by taylor swift-reputation.

part summary: roy and the reader begin dating and secret, and he catches writing a song about him late at night

content warning: language, mild smut if you squint, mentions of an abusive relationship

a/n: this series will likely be 8 parts. feel free to comment or message me any other requests! i write for roy, jamie, and royxjamie. i'll also consider writing for keeley depending on the request.

masterlist

After your night at Bones and Honey, you didn’t see Roy again for another three weeks. You were trying to force yourself to get out of your writers block and write your new album, so you hadn’t gone out of the house much. Even alcohol had stopped helping you get out of your head. The only thing that had been helping you relax was reading. Which is why you decided while waiting in line for coffee at your favorite coffee shop that that’s exactly what you were going to do when you got home. But the universe apparently had other plans, because nearly immediately after the thought crossed your mind Roy Kent walked through the door.

He seemed to be just as surprised as you, and nodded at you hesitantly. You smiled and gave him a small wave in return. He looked different than the last time you saw him. Not necessarily physically, but something had definitely changed in his demeanor. He seemed move related, almost content, which was a stark contrast from the man you met at bones and honey weeks ago. You decided to walk over and stand in line with to him. The barista looked at you questionably, but you didn't care.

“How are you? It’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other.” Truthfully you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the night you spent together, but he doesn’t need to know that. He looked over at you when he heard you talk, and softly smiled.

“Good. Fucking busy, but good.”

“That’s good, I’m glad. Same for me to be honest. I’ve just been working on my new album.” The small talk ended up turning into a three hour conversation at the coffee shop, and before you left you exchanged phone numbers. You realized once you got home that you hadn’t stopped smiling since you saw him. Upon realizing that, you also realized that you hadn’t smiled like that since your piece of shit ex-boyfriend almost destroyed everything you’d worked for.

A couple months after your run-in at the coffee shop, you and Roy officially started dating. You can confidently say that you’ve never been happier. You both agreed that you were going to keep it on the very down low for the foreseeable future, because neither of you wanted to be swarmed by the press or all over social media in general. Roy was loving it. He loved the quiet simple moments with you, they quickly became the favorite part of his day. You were everything to him, even if he wasn’t good at vocally sharing his feelings with you. You were in the same boat. You’ve always shared your feelings through song, it was the only way you felt like you could really express yourself.

On your quiet nights in once Roy fell asleep, you typically went downstairs to your in-house studio and worked on writing or recording for your new album. The past week you had been working on a song about how he helped you recover from your ex, and just how much you adored him in general. You were hoping that you’d be able to surprise him with the song when the album dropped, but fate had other plans. He woke up one night while you were working on it, and came downstairs to find you. You were so engrossed in what you were doing, you didn’t hear him coming when he came up behind you.

“Oi-” You gasped and jumped up from the chair you were sitting in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Roy! You scared the fucking shit out of me.” He laughed and walked up to.

“Sorry love, didn’t mean to. What’re you doin? It’s late.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

My baby’s fit like a daydream

“Just writing for my album. It’s nothin’ great yet, just some lyrics I’ve been thinking over.” You felt slight embarrassed at the thought of him hearing your unfinished song, so you pulled him closer to you and tucked your head into his neck. He rested his chin on your head in response.

“Cut the shit, I’m sure it’s fucking amazing,” he paused, seemingly debating if he wanted to say what he was thinking, then continued, “Can I hear it?” You inhaled, and held your breath for a moment. You thought it over for a second, and decided that it couldn’t hurt to let him hear the bits and pieces you had, even if it was a little embarrassing to you.

“Sure, just keep in mind it’s not all cohesive yet. And I’m not makin’ eye contact with you or I’ll laugh and not be able to get through it.” He chuckled at that as you sat down at the piano, and began to play.

My castle crumbled overnight, I brought a knife to a gunfight… all the liars are calling me one, nobody’s heard from me for months… cause my baby’s fit like a daydream, walkin’ with his head down, I’m the one he’s walking to, so call it want you want yeah, call it what you want… windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm… I recall late November, holdin’ my breath, slowly I said, You don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me…

Your singing faded off as you started to recall your and Roy’s first sleepless night from the first month you started dating, a small smile forming on your face. You looked up at him, and he was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place, which made you suddenly very nervous.

“So, did you like it?” You asked hesitantly. He got up from the chair he sat in when you started playing, and came to kneel in front of you at the piano bench. Due to your height difference, that made you be at perfect eye level.

“Like it? I fucking loved it. You’re fucking brilliant.” He pulled you into a heated kiss, that was full of passion and lust. He hesitantly pulled back, just for a moment, and whispered almost incoherently against your lips, “was that about me?”

“Fuck, yeah it was. Are you okay with that?” You looked into his eyes, feeling very exposed.

“You have no fucking idea just how okay with that I am.” He pulled you back into the kiss, while slowly pulling off your shirt. The rest of your night was spent as a tangle of limbs, burning with passion and desire. I’m laughin’ with my lover, makin’ forts under covers.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #roy kent #roy kent x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired fanfic #series #fanfic series

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spiderfunkz · 1 year

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✧.* WHAT A WASTE OF A LOVELY NIGHT.

— summary : you love jazz, she hates jazz.

— word count : 0,8k

— warnings : fluff, jazz pianist!fem!reader, aspiring actress!natasha, la la land inspired, natasha is mia & reader is sebastian basically.

a/n : i might make a part two, or one where they go to a planetorium together, i don't know yet though. this is la la land inspired but it's not the exact same plot (kinda different kinda not ykyk).

life hasn't been easy lately for both you and natasha. you were a struggling jazz pianist trying to do your best at a boring restaurant, with boring people who aren't interested in whatever boring christmas music you were playing.

and natasha was an aspiring actress who just lost another audition for a role she's been practicing for weeks, and to make it worse she has to walk home all alone in disappointment.

the chances of her stumbling upon you was very small, but here she is.

standing near the entrance of a fancy restaurant, she stopped and listened as you transition from a lame christmas song to one of the most beautiful melodies she has ever heard.

as minutes went by, the soft and slow tune slowly became rushed as your hands moved faster and faster, reaching the end of the song. you stood up from the stool and look around for a bit, only to realize no one was paying attention.

you didn't spot the redhead staring at you in awe near the entrance. what you do see is the owner gesturing for you to go to him.

there was a few possibilities that might happen, maybe he wants you to play more songs like the one you just did, maybe he's gonna finally let you play something else other than christmas music, or maybe you can get-

"fired."

he spoke. you stood still, "okay i hear what you're saying, but i don't think you're saying what you mean." you reply. you can't lose another job.

"yeah no, i don't think you hear what i'm saying, you're fired." he repeated. "okay but that's not what you mean, what you mean is?" — "you're fired!" he repeats once again.

you sighed in defeat, grabbing your bag you leave the restaurant.

but a voice called you from behind.

"hey! i just saw your performance and i wanted to say that you were really good, incredible actually." the girl complimented. "you saw that?" you asked, thinking no one was paying attention other than the owner. "yeah, it was good, you're good." she states, giving you the sweetest smile. "thank you." you smiled back, before walking away towards your car.

your heart grew faster every step you make, going farther away from her. there was just something about her.

maybe it's how soft her voice is when she spoke, maybe it's her fiery red hair, or her beautiful blue dress that complimented her green eyes. either way, you hope to see her again.

and yet the chances of you bumping into her again were small, but surprisingly, you did, a couple of times, in a span of a couple of months.

now you are at a coffee shop when you see the familiar fiery red hair again. your heart bloomed flowers. she looked effortlessly beautiful all the time, even with her messy hair style, even with the semi-annoyed face she had one, even with her apron tangled around her waist, she looked unreal.

"you again! what're you doing here?" she asks. "oh you know, meetings, studio heads, and.." you joked, shrugging.

"how did you get on the lot?"

"i just hauled my ass past the guard gates. i think i have 20 minutes before they find me." you give her a sarcastic smile.

"you don't happen to have a break do you?" you furrow your brows, this is your opportunity to spend more time with her. "i'm off in ten minutes, so.." she replies, you nod. "can i hide in the bathroom?" you whispered — "yes."

the 10 minutes went by and now your walking side by side, talking about all the topics anyone could ever discuss as you walked through the different set scenes and stages there.

you learned how much she's been wanting this career, you listened as she tells you how she got interested in acting and the efforts she has made for this so-called acting gig.

you do the same, you rambled about how you love jazz, how important it is for you, and how much you wanted to make this jazz thing work.

but

"oh and, i should probably tell you something now, to get it out of the way but, i hate jazz." she stated causing you to pause mid-walking. "you okay?"

"wait what do you mean you hate jazz?" you question. "it's just when i listen to it i don't enjoy it." she answers — "yeah but that's such a blanket statement you don't like jazz." you look around in disbelief. you just poured your heart out talking about jazz to her.

"um, what're you doing right now?"

"nothing."

"let's go to a jazz bar, me and you." you say, not even second-thinking it before speaking.

"like a date?" she teases, smirking.

was this your chance? should you just wing it? you should just wing it. "yeah," you nod, "i mean if you want to." your face grew hot, shit you're blushing.

"sure. it's a date then." she agrees.

you smile like a 4-year old who just got a new toy. this is your chance to introduce natasha to the beauty of jazz and maybe change her mind about it.

"yeah, a date."

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danicalithegirl · 4 months

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Unveiling the Depths of Metal: An Exclusive Interview with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin

Page 1:

In the dimly lit confines of a tucked-away studio, where the air is thick with the scent of aged leather, cigarettes, and the faint echo of amplified riffs, Stacee Reider finds himself in the presence of Eddie Munson, the enigmatic frontman of Corroded Coffin. Nestled amidst the clamor of their forthcoming album release, Eddie graciously invites Rolling Stone into his world, offering a glimpse into the labyrinthine journey of his band's 13-year tenure in the annals of rock history.

Stacee: Eddie, it's an honor to sit down with you amidst the fervor surrounding Corroded Coffin's latest venture. Reflecting on the past 13 years, what has been the most defining moment in the band's journey thus far?

Eddie Munson: Thank you, it's a pleasure to be here. Without a doubt, our most defining moment was when we first took the stage with Nirvana, back in '91, on the Nevermind tour. It was a baptism by fire, an electrifying communion between band and audience that solidified our resolve to forge ahead, no matter the odds. To quote Kurt "The energy comes out of us and it goes into the audience and they bounce it back and we just play catch with some vibes". They [Nirvana] have always had this sort of game of catch with their audience, even with Bleach. This tour really passed along that torch to us so to speak. All of those fans, ready to "catch some vibes" got to hear us first and really initiate that gameplay.

Stacee: Your music often delves into themes of darkness and redemption, resonating deeply with legions of fans worldwide. What fuels this creative fire within Corroded Coffin?

I can see in his hand, as he's thinking of his answer, he's fidgeting with some dice. They appear to be fantasy style, and they look very worn, as if he's had them a long time.

Eddie Munson: For us, music has always been a conduit for exorcising our inner demons, a primal scream amidst the chaos of existence. Whether it's grappling with the shadows of our own psyche, facing our past, or confronting the societal abyss, our music serves as a beacon of catharsis for those who dare to embrace the darkness. In high school, I ran a D&D club called the Hellfire Club. We met once a week and played for hours. I think my love of dark fantasy, as an escape, stems from times like Hellfire Club, and we really try and give people times like that with our music.

Stacee: Beyond the stage, your personal life has garnered its fair share of intrigue, particularly since you keep it so private. I know you are married to your Highschool Sweetheart, so tell me, how has love influenced your artistic journey?

Before he answers this question, he pulls out another cigarette and lights it, illuminating the studio. He offeres me one, I decline. Then he takes a few drags as he says.

Eddie Munson: Chrissy is my anchor amidst the storm, a guiding light that illuminates even the darkest corners of my soul. Our union has been a source of boundless inspiration, infusing our music with a newfound depth and vulnerability. And our children, Freya and Cathan, they're the heartbeat of our existence, a constant reminder of the legacy we strive to leave behind. Especially coming from Hawkins, in the midst of all that shit in the '80s, we really want to leave behind something positive for our kids. We are really just striving to give them everything we never had and help mold them into better people than we think we are.

He pulls out his wallet and hands me a folded photo, featuring Chrissy and the kids. I go over it a few times before handing it back to Eddie. He folds it back up and puts it in his wallet, placing it back in his jacket pocket.

Page 2:

Stacee: As you prepare to unleash your latest opus upon the world, what can fans expect from Corroded Coffin's newest offering?

Eddie Munson: With each album, we endeavor to push the boundaries of our sound, to chart new territories within the vast expanse of metal. This latest chapter is no exception; it's a sonic odyssey that traverses the abyss of the human experience, a symphony of darkness and light that beckons the listener to journey deeper into the labyrinth of the soul. It really begs the listener to dig deep down into the inner reaches of themselves and ask those hard and dark questions. I was feeling this when I started the album. Cathan had just turned 2 and Freya was 4. Chrissy and I had just celebrated 8 years married, 14 together, and I guess I was just realizing how fast time moves and whatnot. It seemed like just yesterday we were driving her to college in Chicago in August of '86, and now its 2000. Crazy man. This made me reflect on myself and my journey, and I had a period where I retreated into my music room and felt sad for a while as I sat and thought about these things. I faced some hard truths, some demons, and celebrated my wins, and out came the first few songs off the record.

Stacee: Finally, Eddie, what does the future hold for Corroded Coffin? Where do you see yourselves in another 13 years?

Eddie Munson: The future is an enigma, a tapestry woven from the threads of our collective destiny. But one thing is certain—we'll continue to march to the beat of our own drum, to defy the constraints of convention and forge ahead on our own terms. As for where we'll be in 13 years? Who knows... perhaps standing atop the mountain peak of our greatest triumph yet, or venturing into uncharted waters in search of new sonic horizons. Only time will tell.

As the interview draws to a close, Eddie Munson offers a glimpse into the soul of Corroded Coffin, a band unbound by the shackles of expectation, steadfast in their commitment to the relentless pursuit of musical transcendence. And as the echoes of their latest masterpiece reverberate through the hallowed halls of rock history, one thing remains abundantly clear—Corroded Coffin's legacy is etched in stone, an indelible testament to the enduring power of metal in all its raw, unbridled glory.

#eddie and chrissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #Stranger things #Stranger things 5 #corroded coffin #rolling stone magazine #Rolling stone #Eddie Munson the rolling stone interview #Rolling Stone interview #Nirvana

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ericmicael · 6 months

Text

10 CURIOSITIES ABOUT FROZEN 2

1 - The Northuldra Tribe and the plot of the dam was inspired by real life

In 1979 the Norwegian government decided to build a hydroelectric plant on the Alta River, but this would completely harm the salmon fishing and reindeer grazing that are the livelihood of the Sámi Tribe. They tried to oppose the construction, but were ignored and in the end the dam was built. But the protests they held were a major turning point for the tribe's relationship with the Norwegian government, which began to look more closely at the tribe even though it continues to commit various negligence towards it. In "Frozen 2" things were more drastic with King Runeard, Anna and Elsa's grandfather, creating the dam with the sole purpose of weakening the tribe and then managing to exterminate them because he considered them a risk to his throne due to their proximity with the spirits of nature and magic.

2 - Kristoff is technically a Northuldra before Anna and Elsa

It is no coincidence that Kristoff got along so well with the Northuldras and that people started to theorize that he is part of them since Kristoff is a Sámi or at least he was in the script "Frozen 1". In the film's script he and all the ice harvesters are called Sámi, which as I said at the beginning is the Northuldra Tribe from F2. As far as I know there is no confirmation in the franchise that brings the sides together (ice harversters and Northuldra), but considering that the Sámi Tribe is known for being a combination of different types of tribe, even having more than one language wouldn't be too wrong, and actually not unheard of since Anna and Elsa's mother's original tribe is different from the one she is shown participating in in F2 since her original tribe and family were completely wiped out when Iduna was 5 years old.

3 - Bruni or Sally

In the novelization of "Frozen 2" Olaf is in doubt about what name to give to the fire salamander, the options being Bruni and Sally. In the end he doesn't choose any of them and the book itself starts calling the salamander with the name Bruni. This is not the debut of the name Sally, in the Christmas short called "Olaf's Frozen Adventure" the stocking that Olaf hangs on the fireplace has the name Sally on it. And also about Bruni's name in the book "Dangerous Secret's: The Story of Iduna and Agnarr" which is a book that tells the past of Anna and Elsa's parents, Iduna calls the fire salamander with the name Bruni decades before Olaf choose this name for the Fire Spirit.

4 - Halima and Ryder have names inspired by real people

Halima, who is Mattias' love interest, shares her name with her voice actress Halima Hudson, and Ryder, who is Honeymaren's brother, shares his name with Ryder Buck, who is the deceased son of director Chris Buck.

5 - Santino Fontana and the redemption of Hans

Santino, who is the voice actor for the villain in "Frozen 1", even gave an interview saying that someone from Disney, who he obviously can't say who he is, told him that his character would return and I will have a redemption arc… Considering that the character since "Freezing Fever" has become the franchise's most recurring joke, appearing only to be humiliated as in the special "Once Upon a Studio" and in "Frozen 2" Elsa refers to him with the phrase "unreedemable monster" I have my doubts as to whether the person who said that to Santino really was someone from Disney or was playing a joke on him or was from a version of the script so early that perhaps the Northuldra Tribe didn't even exist yet.

6 - Lady Halverson and Woodsman

Speaking of the initial script we have these two figures, the first apparently was Mattias' initial love interest who, instead of being Halima, was a soldier in his battalion and the second is the mysterious being who transforms into a reindeer. We don't have any information about the two characters other than the video that can be found by typing: "Frozen 2 (2019) _ Queen Iduna _ Deleted Scene _ Exclusive Clip (HD)" and some art, and nothing else. "Woodsman" is just a nickname.

7 - Some of the deleted scenes were discovered or not

The production of "Frozen 2" was so chaotic that it generated a documentary where it is revealed that there were several moments deleted from the film, to this day there is not much about it, but we have some books like "The Enchanted Forest". "The Enchanted Forest" is an adaptation of the film, but it is not a very faithful adaptation so much so that there are several differences… Could it be that some of these differences are deleted scenes? There is the origin of the wagon that the group goes to the Enchanted Forest and even new lines between Elsa and Honeymaren, and this was one of the moments that is mentioned as being cut in the documentary. I'm not going to make a guarantee, but perhaps some of these books that portray "Frozen 2" in a slightly different way are actually earlier versions of the script before the cuts? Theories.

8 - Elsa's romantic life in "Frozen 2" and Kristen Bell

Although the theories and campaigns to give Elsa a girlfriend we have nothing official in the second film about Elsa's sexual orientation with Jennifer Lee herself, director, saying that the Snow Queen had a lot on her mind and wasn't ready. But going back to the deleted scenes, there are theories that Elsa would initially have romantic moments with Honeymaren, but they were deleted (in "The Enchanted Forest" the moments between them are new and just new dialogues) but there are some conceptual arts left like these two where Elsa presents intimately magic for the other woman in two stages of the film's development. But there is still this art where she does the same to Ryder which makes Kristen Bell, Anna's voice actress, enter this story, in an interview given to "SiriusXM" again the topic was "Elsa's girlfriend" with Honeymaren being mentioned, but Kristen Bell will mention the theme and ends up saying at the end that Elsa is free to choose and even has more than one option in the Enchanted Forest with her mentioning Ryder. Out of curiosity, the brothers Honeymaren and Ryder have already competed for Elsa in the mobile game called "Disney Magic Kingdoms" where they both try to take the Snow Queen for a walk through the forest, but Honeymaen arrives first, frustrating Ryder who still has to put up with the game itself. mocking him since the name of the mission was "barking up the wrong tree". Later, a festival takes place in Arendelle in this mobile game where Honeymaren offers herself as a saleswoman, wanting to do this just to please Elsa, and Ryder, upon realizing her feelings for the Snow Queen, decides to help… from rival to cupid.

9 - Anna would ask Kristoff to marry her

In one of the deleted songs Kristoff would talk about his feelings, but in the end it would be her who would ask him to marry her. The song is "Get This Right" and the entire scene, still in progress, can be found on YouTube.

10 - Elsa's death

There is a rumor that in the film's original script Elsa would not thaw and would end the film frozen dead, giving a hint that she could return in the future. The main clue would be this concept art where Elsa appears unconscious, thawed with Nokk and if you paid attention to what I said, the main proof that the film would end with her frozen is an art of her thawed. There are still those who use the fact that she couldn't stop the wave as proof since the castle was originally going to be rebuilt, but I honestly don't believe it.

#frozen 2 #northuldra #elsamaren #elsa #honeymaren #queen anna #kristoff #prince hans #bruni #ryder nattura #deleted scene #give elsa a girlfriend #halima

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lokiondisneyplus · 1 year

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You might have done a little happy dance upon learning that Ke Huy Quan — who first left his mark on Hollywood in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom as Short Round and most recently won an Academy Award for his role in Everything, Everywhere All At Once — was joining the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Well, when Quan found out an invitation for him to join the MCU was being extended he had to pull over to the side of the road because he was getting teary-eyed and couldn’t see.

“I’ve been a fan of the Marvel Universe for a long, long time, and I always fantasized about joining the MCU family but that was only a fantasy that I didn’t think it would ever come true, it was a distant dream of mine.” Quan explained. “I watched Loki season 1 on Disney Plus and I thought it was one of the most creative and just best-looking cinematography, costume, production design; everything was just top notch. It was one of the most creative shows that I’ve ever seen in a long, long time.”

After his role in the Oscar-winning Everything, Everywhere All At Once caught the attention of Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige, he reached out to Quan with an offer.

“One day my agent told me, ‘Kevin Feige is going to give you a call from Marvel Studios’, and he told me between a certain time, between 5 and 7, and I was so nervous but at the same time I was also very, very excited. I remember I was in a meeting at that time, and I told the person I was having the meeting with, ‘I’m so sorry, but at 4:50 I’m going to have to leave,’ but I didn’t tell them why, so I set my alarm clock at 4:50. And when it rang, I got out of there, expecting this important call from Mr. Kevin Feige. I was just driving home and all of a sudden, my phone rang, and I picked it up, and on the other end I heard this voice, hello, hi, I’m Kevin Feige, hello Ke.”

On the phone, Feige praised Quan’s performance, which tugged on his heartstrings so much he couldn’t contain his emotions.

“I started getting teary eyed and I was driving, and I couldn’t see. And I had to pull off to the side of the road and we’re talking, and then he said, would you like to join the MCU family? I was ecstatic, I was so happy and to get that call from him meant the world to me.”

Quan now joins the MCU in the second season of Marvel Studios’ Loki playing Ouroboros — or O.B. for short. He works, all alone, in the very bottom basement of the Time Variance Authority, but “he’s super happy with his job, he doesn’t sleep, and he works 24/7.”

youtube

It might be intimidating joining the ranks alongside long-time Marvel star Tom Hiddleston and his on-screen best friend, Owen Wilson’s Mobius. But Quan fit right in.

“He's a dream, I can't imagine anyone else playing this role,” Executive Producer Kevin Wright explains. “What you see on camera is what we get behind the camera. He slotted right into this team, which is already a fantastic ensemble. He's just a beautiful, inspiring person to work with.”

Wright notes that what Hiddleston and Wilson created with Loki and Mobius is “beloved,” and adding a third person might make for a third-wheel situation. But not with Quan. Quan, “came in with his own kind of unique aspect to that trio. It was just honestly being true to himself, being true to the character. He just adds this extra ingredient that wasn't there before. There's almost this whimsy. He just felt like a natural part of the team.”

It might have been a seamless fit, but that doesn’t mean Quan didn’t come prepared with a ton of questions about his character and the world of the TVA.

“In the beginning I was quite nervous because it’s such a well-written character and I wanted to do it justice,” he continues. “I had a lot of creative meetings with our producers and with our directors. I would sit down, and I would ask them all these kinds of questions because I wanted to give justice to this wonderfully created character by our writer and producer.”

Looking back, Quan calls the whole process memorable, adding, “Every day I walk on set in a great mood and that’s how I finish the day as well. Every single person — the cast and the crew, has made this journey so memorable.”

And as for where he fits into the larger MCU? Quan’s already passed the first test of not talking about spoilers — not even asking about them.

“I’m only familiar with what Loki Season 2 is about but I don’t want to know too much,” He jokes. “I want to be like a fan and discover it just the way everybody else does.”

Editor’s note: The following interview was conducted before the SAG-AFTRA strike began on July 14, 2023.

#ke huy quan #ouroboros #o.b.#loki s2 #Youtube

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booksandabeer · 2 years

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Hey,

I love your blog and I love how much work you put in when someone ask you to recommend fics for them, you’re truly beyond AMAZING! Just getting that out of the way.

And now, can you please tell me your favourite underrated stucky fics. I know this might be too big of an ask because there are SO MANY out there, so just tell me a few if you don’t mind.

Thank you so much ❤️

Hello Stranger!

Thank you for the ask and your very kind words! ❤ It's so nice to hear that people like my rec posts because they really do take a surprisingly large amount of time to put together. Anyway, I'm not complaining & this is a lot of fun for me, so on to the recs!

I struggled a bit with how to define "underrated" and I think everybody has their own ideas of what exactly that means. Also, the Stucky ship has been around for more than a decade (even longer if you count the comics), so creative output and reader interest will fluctuate and ultimately decline over time. A Stucky fic posted after 2019--no matter how insanely good it is--will never do the numbers it would have done in the Golden Age of 2014-2018. So, for the purpose of this list, a fic written in 2016 with 15K hits or less does qualify as underrated, while a fic posted in 2021 with 10-15K would not.

Also, as always, this list is by no means an exhaustive one.

the wrote and the writ by declanlynchsrack | G, 10K

Author's summary: Bucky’s crying before he’s off the boat and he’s the least surprised out of anyone to realize it.

He’s always been a softie, a leaky faucet, and the war hasn’t changed that, so he doesn’t know why the sob that smacks him startles him bad enough that he grips the strap of his bag doubly hard, ready to swing it around like a battering ram, ready to find that cloying, invisible enemy. He’s not being ambushed, on his belly in the muck and camellias, cypress hanging low, moonlight casting an eerie smile upon Lake Como like it’s enjoying the hell out of muffled gunshots and the wet grunt of lifeblood spattering onto the undergrowth.

That’s done. He’s safe.

An AU in which Bucky--minus one arm--comes back from the war and Steve never got to go, and never became Captain America. A scrappy little story that is at once full of emotion and yet completely unsentimental. This story socked me on the jaw, tackled me to the ground, and then sat on me while twisting, twisting, twisting my arm behind my back. It also has one of my favorite descriptions of the SteveBucky dynamic I've ever read: "They’re all roughed up, the two of em, a pair of old marble statues weathered by time and harsh touches, but they know each other’s chinks and foibles and can side-step them with grace while still treating the other about as delicately as they’d handle a sack of potatoes." !!! If you prefer, you can also listen to it here: [Podfic] the wrote and the writ by quietnight

Hollywoodland by romanticalgirl | E, 69K

Author's summary: In 1930s Hollywood, the world is run on the studio system. Stars are told who to date, what to wear, what to say, and how to look pretty doing it. The only way you can really do what you want is if you don't get caught.

Steve's dating Peggy, which works out because she's married to Sam, even though it's not legal. But it's the perfect cover for the fact that Steve's gay. He's managing just fine skirting the system to find companionship, but then he meets James Barnes and life gets a lot more complicated.

If you know anything about me and my love for Golden Age Hollywood, then you won't be surprised that this pushes all of my buttons. This is loosely inspired by the real life relationship of Cary Grant and Randolph Scott (the exact nature of which we will probably never know, but let's just say it was most likely not strictly platonic). Is the world the author created here entirely realistic? No--and it's not intended to be. While it is indeed rooted in many of the horrible realities that queer people and POC have faced in the past (and are still facing today), it's a slightly kinder version of it that allows for a hopeful, if not a strictly happy ending in the traditional sense. A sumptious story with gorgeous art.

make progress together by frankoceansmoonriver | E, 24K

Author's summary: He feels like Steve’s mistress. He feels hollowed out. He feels like a jammed gun still trying to go off. When he’s not with Steve he convinces himself he’s ruining Steve’s life, and though he tries, he’s too selfish to stop. When he’s with Steve, he’d fight God himself to keep it, this tangible perfection that makes him drunk and anchors him in ways he did not know existed.

Or, the one where they both survived the war, Bucky loves Steve now, has loved Steve since he was fifteen, and the year is 1945.

This is a story that I have reread many, many times because it is the perfect wish fulfillment fic for me. It's the slightly unrealistic, or one could also say: optimistic version of what I imagine would have happened had Steve and Bucky both survived the war. That's not to say that this fic doesn't have its very angsty moments, but ultimately, this is a story about love and hope triumphing in the face of adversity, and sometimes you just want to see good things happen to good people. I know some readers may find the formatting and the non-linear structure challenging, but this is a beautiful story and I really urge you all to give it a try!

I'll Light Your Way Home series by BeaArthurPendragon | M-E, 69K, 5 parts

Author's summary: Two lost Vietnam vets find each other in a Hell's Kitchen gay bar one hot September night. This is how they find their way home.

A pattern emerges! Can you tell I'm really into (No Powers) AUs set in the early to mid 20th century? Well, here's another one, but we're actually moving into second half of the century, specifically to 1969, for this one! Bea is quite possibly my favorite Stucky writer and I have recommended her stories many times to anybody who will listen to me. It's debatable whether or not she actually counts as "underrated", I guess, but it is my personal opinion that her fics should have ten times the kudos/comments/hits they do and that she deserves to be up there with the "big names". This story in particular just completely won over my heart with its gorgeous (but not ostentatious) writing, its confident and mature characterizations, and great eye for historical detail. I *cannot* recommend her fics enough. /unabashed fangirl moment over.

The Northern Lights by ThisChairIsMyHomeNow | M, 21K

Author's summary: “I can’t feel my face,” Steve shivers.

“I can’t feel my left arm,” Bucky says, deadpan. Steve barks out a laugh. It’s all white puffs of vapor in the chilly air.

“This the spot?”

“Nah,” Bucky pants, breath ragged from the long ascent up a mountain. “Almost there.”

A post-CW canon-divergent story that the author jokingly describes in their author's note as "gay superhero reluctantly gets therapy in the jungles of Wakanda, then goes on a covert road trip." And yes, maybe I wouldn't put it quite so flippantly myself, but it's not... untrue. And yet there is so much more depth to it. If you like a Bucky who takes back his life, his identity, and his future on his own terms, a Steve who isn't reduced to being his recovery prop but instead gets to shine in all his glorious, intense, stubborn Steve-ness, and a Sam & a Natasha who aren't just window dressing for the SteveandBucky-Show, this is for you! Cap Quartet Road Trip where all four members get their moment to shine--what are you waiting for?

Misplaced Pencils | T, 13K & and our words would take us 'round the world | T, 13K by Somanywords

Author's summary:

Steve and drawing throughout the years. Also Bucky.

Bucky is two years old when he learns to talk.

I've spent a good 30 minutes debating with myself which one of these two I should include here, and then I just threw up my hands and said "why not both? Both is good!" So here they are, two beautifully written mid-length full-arc (childhood to sometime past TWS, where they diverge from canon) fics that I love both equally. These are standalone stories and are not set in the same universe, but they do read and feel like companion pieces to each other because both stories are told through the lense of Steve and Bucky's respective artistic sensibilities and how they use their art as a framework to make sense of the world. Misplaced Pencils gives you artist Steve who, from a very young age on, has always tried to understand the world by taking it apart into its visual components & falling back on a fixed set of questions that help him to categorize and compartmentalize the people he encounters and the emotions he feels for them (just like he will later do in other areas of his life). Only that there is of course one person who's always refused to fit neatly into just one of his categories. and our worlds... on the other hand, gives you storyteller Bucky who's constantly talking, singing, writing. Who, in the end, can't help himself but narrate even his own fall and who is later delightfully affronted by his own narrative arc in a "if I had been the one in charge, I would've written it better!" way. Both of these stories are very dear to my heart and they deserve a million more hits.

+ Bonus!

Fics that definitely could/should be on this list but that I've recced before:

You are here by dharmashark

A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall by DisraeliGears

Prisoner One by ancientreader

As Time Goes By by Trouble_With_The_Snap

new topography series by brideofquiet

What I'm Looking For series by TessaBennet

Welcome Home, Son series by BeaArthurPendragon

I'm slowly working my way through my rec asks, so please be patient with me! Next up: Road Trip fics!

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stevebucky #stevebucky fic rec #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic rec #stucky rec list #stucky fic recs #stucky fanfic recs #stucky fic #rec list #asks #my recs

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feyhunter78 · 2 years

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Hey it’s me El! I have an apprentice one shot for Aemond. The reader is the apprentice painter who paints the portraits for them. The reader just finds Aemond to be a masterpiece and paints them all day in the too they were given. Aemond gets the wrong impression of them looking at him constantly and goes into their room when they aren’t there but finds their paintings of him. She walks in and explains saying she thinks he’s her muse and he’s beautiful. He gets flustered and doesn’t know what to do. Awkward flirting happens cause she hasn’t done everyone’s paintings yet. He visits her while she’s doing aegons and he teases the two of them saying of just kiss or fuck and get it over with! And stuff like that. They get awkward but later aemond kisses her and they agree to court

This is super cuteeee, and I decided to go soft with this one!!! To give everyone a break from the smut XD

The Painter and her Muse

Aemond didn’t understand why the court painter’s apprentice kept staring at him. His portrait was one of the first to be finished, mainly because he was the only one that could sit still for that long. But no matter what, if she and him were in the same room together he would always catch her staring at him, almost observing him.

At first, he wondered if perhaps she was an assassin. Then she tripped on the edge of the rug and dropped all her paintbrushes, not managing to catch a single one. So, he ruled that theory out quite quickly.

He soon came to the conclusion that she found him revolting, and could not stop herself from gazing upon the horror that was his disfigured face. After he caught her watching him outside in the garden, her eyes trailing over his form, he’d had enough.

He stormed into the painting studio, ready for a fight.

“Lady y/n, you must cease your staring, it is an insult. If you wish to gawk at the misfortune of others, I suggest the depth of the Fleabottom.”

Instead of a stammering, frightened woman, he finds canvas after canvas of his face staring back at him.

He walks around the room slowly, admiring the time and detail put into each one.

The door swings open, and he hears a shocked, “my prince?”

You’ve walked in on your worst nightmare. Prince Aemond, in the painting studio, looking at the portraits you painted of him, without his knowledge. “I—I can explain.” You stuttered out, rushing to pull the drapes over the paintings.

Aemond grabs your elbow. “Explain then.”

You keep your eyes on the floor as you begin. “You have inspired me, your beauty has breathed new life into my art, I know I should have asked, but I could not waste this burst of inspiration.”

Aemond tilted your chin up with one bent finger. “Are you implying that I am your…muse?”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes. “Yes, my prince. I am so sorry, if I’ve offended you, I will cease at once.”

Aemond’s good eye narrowed for a moment before he released you. “No, I am flattered actually, you have done a wonderful job of capturing my likeness.”

You smile brightly at him. “Truly? I worried that perhaps I had not captured the sharpness of your cheekbones well enough.”

Aemond looked at the nearest painting, it was one of him reading in the library, a calm and contented expression on his face. “They look quite sharp to me.”

You were beaming, and he had a hard time keeping his own smile from emerging.

“And then I told her, she could keep the tunic if she wanted it so badly, but I wanted an extra round in return. She got angry and kicked me out of the brothel, I was not even able to retrieve my tunic.” Aegon groaned, recounting you with his latest adventures.

You giggled as you continued painting. Aegon was your third to last portrait after him, you needed to paint ones of his children.

“That sounds quite harrowing, my prince.” You said, leaning to the side to glance at him again.

“Brother—oh, and Lady y/n.” Aemond’s voice filled the room and you turned instantly.

“Yes, Aemond?” Aegon said, taking this chance to stretch his arms.

“I came to ask you when the twins will have their portraits done. Mother wishes to get them new garments beforehand.”

Aegon tilted his head towards you. “Ask the painter.”

Aemond looked to you.

“The children’s portraits will be done after I finish Prince Aegon’s.” You told him.

“Hear that? Now leave, you are distracting her from her work.” Aegon said, as he resumed the position they’d agreed on.

Aemond stepped closer to you, admiring your work. “For having such a difficult subject, you have managed to create something quite magnificent.”

“I love you too, Aemond.” Aegon called, sticking his tongue out at him.

“The prince is not ugly, so it was not difficult.” You said.

Aegon let out a victorious laugh. “Perhaps she can paint you with both eyes. We’ll send that out and lure a bride here with it.”

You felt Aemond stiffen behind you.

“I think Prince Aemond is already very handsome with one eye, if he had two we might all die from the radiance of his beauty.” You said without thinking, cheeks heating up as the words slipped out.

“That’s very kind Lady y/n, especially from someone so beautiful herself.”

Aegon groaned. “Just fuck already, I do not wish to hear this drivel.”

You stepped away from Aemond, and he did the same. “My—my prince, it is not like that, I can assure you.” You said quickly, already fearing that rumors would spread. This was the death sentence of any court painter. Once you have been accused of an affair, your career was over.

“Aegon that is not the language to use in front of a lady.” Aemond chastised.

“So you do wish to fuck her?” Aegon prodded.

“No, because I am a man of honor who is able to curb his desires, unlike you.” Aemond shot back.

You didn’t let the thought of he did not say he would not bed you if honor was not an obstacle, linger in your mind. “Prince Aegon, please cease talking, I must finish this painting, and you move your whole body when you speak.”

Aegon did as you asked, but shot Aemond one more teasing look.

“I will leave you to your work then.” Aemond said, before leaving the room.

You bid him goodbye, and continued painting, your stomach in knots.

Later, you rushed to your door to answer the frantic knocking. Swinging it open, you took a step back in surprise to see Aemond standing before you.

“Prince Aemond?” You asked.

Aemond said nothing, his eye roaming your face.

“Is everything alright?” You tried again, hand still on the doorknob.

In a swift motion, Aemond bent down, cupped your face and kissed you. It was a staggering kiss, all your thoughts derailed as your senses focused in on him. Your hand gripped his tunic, using it and the door for support when he pulled away and brushed the pad of his thumb along your bottom lips.

“There are no rules that say a muse cannot kiss his artist, are there?”

You shook your head, stunned.

He chuckled and released your chin. “I wish to court you.”

“Okay…” You said, still returning to reality, the smell of parchment and leather still overwhelming your senses.

“Unless that is not your wish?” He asked hesitantly.

That brought you back into your body. “No, no, it is my wish, I would be honored if you were to court me. I would…very much like that.”

Aemond gave you one of his rare, true smiles. “Then I shall come collect you after breakfast?”

“That would be nice.” You said, still gripping his tunic.

“I shall see you then.” He said, as he gently unfurled your fingers and pressed a kiss to each one before he disappeared into the shadows. Leaving you standing there breathless and giddy.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010

#aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #prince aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #meg's writing #mail from el #apprentice!reader #thanks for the request!#I hope you like it!!!#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #painter!reader #anon request

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bijouxcarys · 6 months

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Queen's Hot Space Era: A Deep Dive

Masterlist

I’ve been thinking over this album and era more than usual lately, and decided that I’d write this up. Perhaps as a way to extricate all the Queen knowledge from my head, and the era in question takes up quite a lot of RAM.

The Hot Space album, and era, is very controversial and to this day garners a polarising set of opinions amongst fans and critics alike. So I just thought what the hell, let’s let everyone know what the hell was going on with Queen in the early 80s.

The Hot Space album was the 10th studio album by Queen and was released on the 21st May 1982. It had elements of disco, funk, R&B, dance, and pop, which was very different to what Queen had been doing throughout previous albums. The dance elements of this album was supposedly inspired by the success of Another One Bites The Dust, released in 1980.

Another One Bites The Dust was extremely successful in the US and the UK, the two largest marketing countries in the Western world, at least at the time—and Queen aimed to prolong that success.

The band started recording for Hot Space in June of 1981, and spent a gruelling 10 months on the project before wrapping up the production element in March of 1982. Upon its release, fans and critics found it disappointing. Stephen Thomas Erlewine of Allmusic said “the band that once proudly proclaimed not to use synthesisers on their albums now dramatically reversed course, dedicating the entire first side of the album to robotic, new wave dance pop, all driven by drum machines and coloured by keyboards with Brian May’s guitar coming in as flavour only on occasion.”

The fourth track on Hot Space, Body Language, has been dubbed the worst song in Queen’s discography by fans, and the whole album received no more than a 3-star rating overall.

Rolling Stone gave them a 3-star, whilst the Encyclopedia of Popular Music gave a 1-star… Yikes.

Hot Space is one of the more obscure Queen albums to those who are not currently, or have ever been, active within the fandom. So we’re going to break it down a little bit, and let’s just talk about the background and context of what the hell was going on with them.

So in 1981, Queen recorded Under Pressure with David Bowie, and it’s still considered one of Queen’s staple and most popular songs. It was recorded in Montreux, and was a completely separate project to Hot Space. The band had met up with Bowie and jammed together for a while, just to see if they could come up with something to lay down and master. Of course, as most people know, bassist John Deacon came up with the iconic Under Pressure bass riff, just before they all went out to get some pizza. And by the time they’d returned to the studio, he’d forgotten it! But luckily drummer Roger Taylor remembered it.

Now, this was the first time Queen weren’t working alone; they were used to working only with their producers, never having had anyone else’s input. The two artists merged as one for the song and it pointed in the direction of a potential new road for Queen—it was looking like an exciting one.

But what went wrong during the recording of Hot Space?

Brian May recalls that there was a total change of life for all of them. They travelled to Munich and according to Brian, that’s when things started to go downhill.

Let’s talk a little bit about the studio in which they recorded the album in Munich. It was situated in the basement of a hotel, and it was called Musicland Studios. It closed in the 90s due to some road issues, so it’s no longer open. But Brian remembers this place being grim and depressing.

The band’s mental health started to deteriorate after learning some unsettling details about the place. In Brian’s words:

“A lot of people used to jump off the top of the building and kill themselves off that particular building. We didn’t know that until we got there.”

The urge to finish recording grew, and they spent months at the hotel.

The aim was to create an album that focused more on the dance elements of music due to the success of Another One Bites The Dust, as I mentioned before. They seemed to be in luck, as Freddie Mercury’s entourage at the time was concentrated with dance influences in the form of Paul Prenter.

Now, who was Paul Prenter, you ask? If you’ve seen the film, you’ll kind of already know, but here’s a bit more of an in-depth look at him.

Paul Prenter was Freddie Mercury’s personal manager from 1977 to 1986. Despite their professional relationship, the two also engaged in intimate relations, and Prenter had a huge influence over Freddie’s life during the time he worked for him. He held partial responsibility for Freddie’s excessive involvement in drugs, alcohol, and his growing promiscuity.

Freddie was known to have fired Prenter in 1986, and shortly after it was plastered all over the news. It turns out Paul Prenter had sold personal stories to the press about Freddie… What a dick.

After receiving money from multiple press outlets, he moved back to his hometown of Belfast and spent it all—smart. He then asked Freddie for more money! After all that, he went back and asked him for money! But it’s okay, he did succumb to complications from AIDS a few months before Freddie. So… Freddie got the last laugh, it seemed.

You’re probably wondering what Paul Prenter had to do with Hot Space. After all, he wasn’t part of the band, right?

Well, Freddie’s life was ruled by the New York-inspired gay lifestyle of the 80s, particularly engaging in extreme partying and extreme promiscuity. And at the time, Freddie had suggested to the band that the music on their new album should sound like that of which they’d play in a gay bar, but those words had initially come from Paul Prenter.

It’s said that Prenter despised guitars and relentlessly referred to Brian May as old-fashioned. Roger Taylor recalled that Prenter was a “very bad influence” on the band:

“He was a very, very bad influence upon Freddie, and hence on the band. He very much wanted our music to sound like you just walked in a gay club, and I didn’t.”

The strain and tension became inevitable with the four personalities—and we all know that John, Freddie, Brian, and Roger have massive personalities. Whilst they had always experienced bickering, as most bands do, they now with the added tension, the production of the album isn’t going to go as smoothly.

“Arguments would start off as creative, but slowly became personal.”

Brian recalls that less and less time was spent in the studio and more time was spent arguing.

To put it into perspective about what life was like for the 10 months they spent recording Hot Space in Munich…A regular day recording this album went a little bit like the following:

The entourage recall waking up at 3am, working for hours, having dinner, and then roadies would mix up cocktails and other things would pursue. The band got mixed up in cocaine and various other drugs. Random women, and relentless drinking, and as any sane person will tell you, that is not a good thing.

Roger described it as an exhausting cycle day after day. Imagine doing that for 9 whole months.

Brian remembers them getting into “deep trouble emotionally” in Munich, which possibly explains why their mental states deteriorated.

Now, the Hot Space era didn’t just end when the album came out. Obviously, when an album comes out, you have to do interviews to promote your album and after months and months of bad influences and arguments, the band’s relationship had kind of broken down. Things continued in quite a tense fashion.

In fact, Freddie was left very unhappy and depressed after Hot Space wrapped up—it lasted a while, and he was completely immersed in places and habits that remained detrimental to his fate. Freddie became passive during interviews and defensive on certain questions concerning anything but current projects.

His attitude during the 1982 press conference in Europe was already standoffish and it was extremely obvious that he didn’t want to be there. The body language of the others, especially Brian, speaks volumes. The mood is low and they all seem exhausted.

Another nationwide interview the band gave in promotion for the album presented the group separated; Freddie was notably disinterested as the others spoke. There was even a moment where Freddie responds to the interviewer’s question with “let’s break up tomorrow” as a joke. But, watching it, you can’t help but feel there’s some truth to his words. Nobody laughed, even Roger looked uncomfortable by it!

One of the more well-known interviews from this era was with Brian and Roger, which displayed multiple moments of awkwardness with them both trying to make jokes and seem like they’re happy with what they’d produced, making up amateur excuses as to why they created something with a different sound. In my opinion, they just didn’t seem very happy. Do we even need to mention the “shut up” from Roger, and then the succeeding comment from Brian about Mack having the best drum sound?

Then, we have the iconic 1984 Freddie interview, where he left viewers stunned with his answers:

“I love my job, but I hate talking to people like you,” “I’m not an artist, I’m just a musical prostitute, my dear.”

The long-term effects of what happened behind the scenes of Hot Space were everlasting and turned the group into four completely different people than they were prior to 1982.

As I’ve already mentioned, Hot Space wasn’t received well upon its release, and there are still very strong opinions about it today. Brian stated in 2014 that it isn’t the band’s worst album, but the timing of its release was just wrong. As time goes on, more people begin to accept the Hot Space album as just another reason why Queen is one of the most versatile groups of all time, with them branching out into very different styles to what they’d done earlier in their career, like Sheer Heart Attack, News Of The World, etc…

80s culture looked down upon disco and funk, so reception for Hot Space was bound to be less than amazing. However, today, all styles of music are simultaneously celebrated, and people enjoy the album more now than they did 40 years ago.

So in conclusion, recording Hot Space was a difficult period for Queen. It’s horrible to think about your idols going through the kind of thing they did in the early-mid 80s, influenced by not very nice people. But focusing on the album itself, it’s truly not a bad album at all. Granted, the timing of the release wasn’t the best for Queen, but it holds up as a fan favourite today.

If you haven’t heard any of the songs from Hot Space, besides Under Pressure, I highly recommend you check it out. It’s very different to what Queen usually did and I think it’s worth a listen.

Anyway, I’ll leave it at that. Let me know if you liked this little… post, whatever the hell it is, and if I should do more posts like this. I enjoy throwing all my useless knowledge onto a page lol.

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