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the best person I know.
#genuinely cannot stop thinking about these two#I promised myself to not draw them too much because I have so much work to do#but oh well#take one more fanart#I love them so much#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives fanart#dbd#dbd fanart#painland#painland fanart#chedwin#chedwin fanart#edwin paine#charles rowland#the sandman#my art#digital art#ghosts#illustration
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Scratch My Back
Masterlist
Joel Miller x reader
word count: 889
Summary: The tide is pulling you under, just like it has plenty of times before. Your husband helps you communicate.
A/N: I’ve been struggling with my mental health & looking after myself for a long, long time and I was getting myself all psyched up to get a shower but I didn’t end up getting in and decided to write this lil thing that I’ve been thinking about for a while! I hope you enjoy it and if anyone out there is reading this and is struggling too, just know that you are not alone and that if Joel Miller were real, he would scratch your back❤️
Also thank you so much for 100 followers🥹🫶🏻 really brightened up my spirits a lil bit💓
Warnings: No Outbreak. Depiction of poor mental health. Sadness. One big loving man (it’s Joel Miller) (Not a warning but I didn’t want it to seem all doom and gloom😅) No use of Y/N.
To Joel, it was just a Wednesday, your day off. To you, the ceiling was caving in. Before he left for work you were sound asleep, your thoughts at bay, laying still against the sand, he placed a gentle kiss to your temple before rolling out of bed. Now that you were awake your thoughts were thrashing against the cliffs, the mental whiplash you were facing ultimately draining your body of all its energy.
You watch the clock on the bedside table blink from one minute to the next. You thought about all if the things you should probably be doing; showering, tidying the house, preparing that home cooked meal you’d been promising your husband for over a week but all you could do was slip in and out of sleep, that was the safe option, the one that would keep you somewhat sane until he returned. You didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to text him those three words because you knew he would stop everything for you, everything would be put on hold so that he could soothe you and you didn’t want to add that onto the ever-growing list of things to feel bad about. So you waited.
“Honey?” His voice reverberated off the walls, the sound of his gentle tone floated up the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to shout back, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden steps told you that it wouldn’t be long until he was by your side anyway. He took in the sight of the drawn curtains, the sight of you facing them, still in your t-shirt and underwear and you felt the bed dip behind you, the warmth of his body encompassing yours, his scent filling your scenes.
“Something happen?” A gentle kiss placed to your shoulder blade, the feeling of his lungs emptying and filling behind your back soothing you. You shook your head, allowing a silence to draw over you both as Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you further back into the curve of his body. He was always so patient with you, so tender.
“Scratch my back.”
Scratch my back, a cry for help. A promise made between two lovers. A rule established when you’d first started dating. Joel knew that you struggled with your mental health, you’d opened up to some extent, brushing him off with a ‘I’m having a tough day but I’ll be ok x’ text in the beginning, even then he gave you your space.
One week in spring however, everything was not okay. He hadn’t heard from you in four days, no text and definitely no phone calls. At first he thought that this was your way of letting him know you were no longer interested and selfishly, he couldn’t let it end that way. So after days of mulling it over and chewing his bottom lip raw, he drove over to your apartment and that’s where he found you, dark circles engulfing your eyes, threatening to swallowing them whole, hair unwashed, apartment flooded in gloom.
He took a bath with you, washed your hair as best he could. The spring air still had a slight chill to it so he’d made sure your new set of pyjamas were on the radiator ready for bed and he laid with you in silence until you turned into his chest and he felt the wet of your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt.
“You don’t have to talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into your hairline. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to talk to me, I mean obviously you can, when you feel comfortable and ready to but there is something I want you to do for me baby,” another soft kiss. Your eyes travelled up his face to finally look him in his eyes, those soft brown eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. All you could do was give a small nod, you would do anything he asked. “I want you to come up with a word or a phrase,” he continued, “so that when things get bad and you don’t feel like you can talk about it…” he trailed off, his hands drawing shapes up and down the length of your spine.
“Like a safe word?” He let out a huff of air at that, a small smile adorning his face.
“Yeah, kinda like a safe word, so I know that you’re safe,” his palm came to rest on your cheek, thumb cupping your jaw, “up here,” and his fingers tapped gently on the side of your temple.
“Scratch my back,” It was soft, the way it came out, tears threatening to spill over, “because if you promise to scratch mine, i’ll always scratch yours.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, the last thing you wanted was for Joel to see you like this and to become his burden, but the way he’d shown you such care and compassion made your head feel a little less foggy, you wanted to promise that you could do that in return, that it wouldn’t just be him constantly looking after you.
“Oh sweet angel.” Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks now, pressing a light kiss to your nose and then your lips.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller drabble#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou#dovedewdrop writes
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CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)
(Before cut is In-Character.)
Hiii! Helloooo!
Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.
So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.
Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.
Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.
BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇
(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)
To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.
And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.
Blog-Context
So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...
I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!
MAIN TAGS:
#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks
#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar
#ooc - Out-of-character post
OTHER TAGS (to be updated):
(nothing yet, hehe)
Blog-Owner
So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!
I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.
Ask/RP-Boundaries
Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.
ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.
Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.
Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,
PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!
That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe
Lots of love, - Hex
#unpl3zansw3rz#unpl3zrambl3z#ic#ooc#ask blog#regretevator unpleasant#regretevator ask blog#regretevator infected#unpleasant gradient
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.3
Okay can anyone explain the “false hotel registration” thing to me? Does it mean they registered under a false name? So Paul registered under a false name so he could go fuck a girl in his room without getting in trouble with the press? I'm confused. Didn't they bring girls to their rooms all the time without getting in trouble? It doesn't make sense. Why did he feel the need to register under a different name?
Paul, talking about American conservatism, “So many organizations over here that are nuts anyway.” John, “Yeah, they're so far right they just–” tape ends. They really were brave, though. To say what they thought and risk losing what they'd only just got. I wonder who cut the recording.
Journalist: Paul, are you planning to marry Jane Asher? John: scream ‘no.’ Go on. Lol John certainly says what he feels doesn't he?
Paul making fun of the racist question. Good job bud.
The whole “Yesterday” thing is crazy. Like, what a feat, first of all. I think we forget how unbelievably successful the song was.
Second of all, I know John's reaction was childish and mean, but his feelings were valid if you just look at the treatment and reception of “Ticket to Ride” (John's dead mum song). Like objectively yesterday is a better song, but still.
Oh, John. Poor thing.
If “Girl” is secretly about Paul . . . yeesh. It's so obsessive and adoring and simultaneously so disappointed and disparaging. John always has such impossible standards for Paul. “She promises the earth to me and I believe her, after all this time I don't know why.” Um… maybe because he literally did give you the world? At so many points I find myself asking, “what more could Paul possibly have given John?”
People always take this quote as a sexuality thing, but couldn't it also be a conscience thing? Revulsion at taking advantage of the fact that all these women are fans? At the scale of his infidelity? I don't know, am I giving him too much credit?
The thing about Paul, John – and though it drives you insane, it's a big factor in why you love him -- is he's not going to be bullied into anything. If he decides to take LSD it's going to be on his own terms. And I know you think it'll bring you two closer, and you're right, but peer pressure just doesn't work on him. There's no point. You know that.
I LOVE Paul and the Indica. Designing the wrapping paper in secret up in his little attic room, covering over the shop windows so he can do his handyman work building shelves and painting in peace. It's Linda's Paul pre Linda, you know?
John is so good at PR as in making something sound as beautiful and important and powerful as possible. Which is something Paul absolutely relied on John to do and clearly could not do on his own after the break up. Look how John makes them almost into prophets here.
"I really wanted to live in London but I wouldn't risk it." Another thing to make John envious of Paul and resentful of Cynthia. I really wish those two had just never got married.
“I don't object to people having a lot of money, I never did. But I do object to people being stony broke and starving.” RIP John, you would've loved the American “left” of today. But you can't have the former without the latter, sorry.
This picture always gets me. It's ridiculous. Pattie and George. Mo and Ringo. John and Paul. With Cynthia awkwardly by herself. It's funny. It's adorable. It's crushing. And with that quote? It's impossible.
I think Tara Browne is overlooked. Paul brought him home for Christmas. That's a big deal. And John hated him enough to laugh when he read about his death. That's also a big deal. Paul and his messed up social climbing obsession. I do think it's worth pointing out, though, the difference between Paul’s LSD trip with Tara and his trip with John. More on that later.
I really do think they were all staunchly anti-racist for their time, you know, besides John's racist jokes and drawings… but Paul particularly. And I have to wonder where that came from. Did he have empathy for people being judged on appearance and background? Was it partially due to his idolization of black artists? Did Little Richard maybe say something to him about racism in America? Anyone have any thoughts?
Actually, same, John.
Okay and I have to share my hot take on the whole Jesus scandal. It's this: the American right doesn't actually care about Jesus. They care about protecting their hegemony. They didn't like that the Beatles were openly and stubbornly integrationist. They didn't like Paul's comment about their inhumane racism. But they couldn't openly counter that without showing their hand. So they used the Jesus comment as an excuse. If they play the religious persecution card, they get to paint themselves as the victims and therefore the good guys while they take down anyone who challenges the status quo that keeps them in money and power (aka the Beatles).
Maybe I should've had a “poor baby” tally because the number of times I've said that about John in these comments has got to be tally-worthy. I would've driven around in a gorilla suit with you, honey!
It is actually amazing that there hasn't been more speculation on Paul's sexuality with all these serious boyfriends.
Paul tells a story about a time he flew a plane, and how much better he liked it than being a passenger. First off. Imagine being a pilot and just being like “oh, you've never touched a joystick in your life, but you're Paul McCartney? Sure, go ahead. Fly the plane.” But also. His control issues and his confidence are both off unreal. No one in their right mind would feel more safe flying a plane – as someone with a complete lack of experience – than when a licensed pilot is flying it.
Okay I literally JUST learned that Here There and Everywhere says, “how good it can be” not could. Can. And it's one of those in my "for sure this was about John" folder. Okay then. Wow.
The thing is they really did compliment each other's songs a lot more than modern Paul makes it seem like. So I wonder what it was about the “Here There and Everywhere” compliment that made it so special to Paul?
This footage where John is hiding behind McCharmley. I love protective Paul and how different he is to protective John and how much they needed each other.
Hall of Fame quote: “what composer do you respect the most?” “I dunno really. John Lennon.” “Paul McCartney.”
#Sorry this one got pretty political hopefully everyone survived#paul mccartney#the beatles#john lennon#mclennon#ringo starr#george harrison#understanding lennon mccartney#ulm
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OCTOBER IS COMING
I know, I'm shocked my own self. I don't know what exactly happened to 2024, but I'm feeling a bit whiplashed.
With October comes Murdocktober; Now, to be perfectly honest, I'm in no condition to tackle it. Without going into personal details, this year has kicked my ass. I'm actually away right now, and I don't know when I'll be able to come home.
SO OF COURSE I STILL INTEND TO DO IT. After the year I've had, I simply couldn't stomach skipping something I care so much about, and was so looking forward to. I'll have to push myself physically, and be very careful not to neglect MY ACTUAL JOB (including many belated commissions…:s), but if I can't draw for myself once a year, what's even the point? I just don't make any promise regarding the regularity of the posts. I'll manage the best I can, and we'll see what happens.
Now, tackling this second Murdocktober felt a bit silly without having shared all of last year's. As mentioned, it's been a rough year. I didn't know if I was gonna publish them, despite loving them a lot, because to be honest I'm kinda sick of social media, and very tired of the "message in a bottle" feeling of putting works I care about out there and seeing them being either ignored or hidden by some very frustrating marketing logic. (If you see this one, congratulations, you're among the 5% of my followers who actually see my posts ! (woop woop))
But as I flip through the Artbook, it does feel very frustrating to not have what I consider some of my best drawings out there. So here they are. Hopefully they'll reach people who care too.
The Artbook is available for pre-order here : https://aliceleclert.sumupstore.com/ (link in the linktree in my bio) alongside the originals for the whole series, as well as other artworks and prints, in case you're interested.
Here goes the bottle. Plouf
7/7 : (Day 31) Ascend
#drawing#comics#art#marvel#dessin#sketch#inking#ink#marvelcomics#daredevil#murdocktober#Matt Murdock#Inktober#NYC
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ok listen. listen. hear me out. what if Angel was the one to propose the contract
like.... the intensification of heartbreak and guilt when Val tells him 'I own you, or have you forgotten that?' as Angel looks at his signature, the heart he drew next to it. the extra layer in 'what's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself'. and above all it plays well with my observation that their contract had to have been composed with some level of input from Angel, because... why on earth/in hell would Val have given him control of his life outside of the studio; and while Val invokes the contract to put Angel back in 'his place', Angel invokes it to remind Valentino that he can defy him. It's actually similar in composition to a kink contract/agreement--if I'm in this specific place, you hold all the power and call the shots; but outside of it, I don't give you that level of control. Angel can straight up tell Val to fuck off in front of a crowd and all Val can do is say he'll make Angel regret it next time he's in the studio (and isn't that an extremely dark variation of the classic kinky romance beat of 'sub misbehaves when they're in public and can get away with it, dom promises they'll pay for it later'?)
so like. all of that about the contract also works if Val proposed it, but I love headcanoning that their relationship was on the rocks around the time it was signed, and one of the factors was Vox coming onto the scene... and so now i'm just thinking about Angel in his peak era of both-sides-ing their relationship problems, knowing his 'commitment issues' (partly real, partly consisting of val's 'you know other men??' issues) are a major cause, furious and disconcerted at someone else drawing so much of Val's attention, wanting to make a stupid desperate Hail Mary pass to save their relationship but devoid of the usual options of 'have kid' or 'impulsively propose marriage' or 'move to a new house that's inevitably haunted' i watch too much horror, going for the option of '...hey do you want to make the kind of binding contract that is accessible to us?'
and surely it's not that stupid! he's only really giving Val a formal version of the power he gives him already, right? Val's his dom and his director and manager, and maybe there's... problems but it's mostly been great for Angel so far, so if having it on (magic eternally binding) paper would make Val happy and make him understand that Angel really wants him, wants them, the risk is toooootally worth it. just, best not to tell Cherri about it she'd definitely think it was insane.
(and when, much later, she learns about the contract and berates him for being an idiot and not telling her when Val brought it up, maybe don't correct her assumption. just keep it to yourself and feel even worse.)
#valangel#angel dust hazbin hotel#valentino hazbin hotel#happy days in hell (hazbin tag)#this is a just for fun awful idea excepting the .001% chance it's what actually happened#in which case i'm a genius#but i stand behind my 'their contract (what we know of it) is reminiscent of a kink contract#and angel seems to have signed it willingly (and with love-the HEART) so it seems more relationship-based than a 'deal' per se' insanity#(angel just does Not seem like he'd sign away control of his soul even part of the time in exchange for money/fame etc and there's so far#no mention of Val giving/owing him anything in return for that control)#(tho again. i may be proved wrong it's early days yet shrug emoji)#i know 'addict' was a fansong but it WAS made canon and i froth about#'til death do us part/but we're already past that phase' every time i remember it#the marriage/kink contract equivalent coding of Val and Angel's relationship... <- me insane at 3am staring into space
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THE ENHYPEN HOST || 14
|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS
WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.
GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers
SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.
Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.
Do you accept?
TRAILER 1
TRAILER 2
PREVIOUS CHAPTER:
FIRST CHAPTER:
sorry..... I had promised shorter chapters but.... ♡
All the people involved in this matter are legally of age in their own countries.
I am actually surprised at how peacefully the lunch is proceeding.... Although evidently displeased, the boys have taken Niki's decision with great maturity
I'm not saying I expected them to continue, however, I had my doubts that two established, arrogant, wealthy boys would listen to the words of a younger foreign boy.
They may not be as scary as I thought.
I didn't look Riki in the face anymore, really too ashamed.... he found me out. It was also all too obvious that I was looking his huge, veiny, olive cock, which is why he really thinks I want to ride him, which is actually true but strongly wrong.
"Lately Taehyun has been having problems with his throat - Yeonjun says, I, who haven't listened a single second of the conversation between them, staring my plate worriedly, am caught by this information and look the boy, he notices. - It's lucky we're stopped for a while."
Soobin nods worriedly, finishing eating a few slices of sashimi. I stare for several seconds as he sticks his tongue out to accompany the raw fish in his mouth, and it honestly gives me chills. He's so damn hot.
"Sunoo hyung has passed out several times lately." Riki says, before noisily sucking back his ramen.
Really? Why didn't I know that? No... how was I supposed to know? I hardly ever meet him. I turn to him worriedly, furrowing my brow.
"Really? - Yeonjun chuckles. - He doesn't seem like a weak guy."
The japanese man lifts his gaze to his hyung, annoyed. "It's because of these kinds of jokes that he stops eating during promotion periods."
Soobin looks at his bandmate and shakes his head displeased. "Can you not bother someone for ten seconds?"
"What can I do? They draw me like this." The older man justifies himself, laughing and eating.
Riki pours me wine, glares at me, and I snort. "Noona, do you know how much food costs here? Eat."
Honestly, it all looks delicious -- I don't want to give up right away, trying to stay that annoyed, but it's been several days since I've eaten very little and I'm experiencing too much excitement. I pick up my chopsticks and take a nigiri sake.
I can almost see him smiling when I eat the piece and my heart starts beating stupidly, not good. I lower my gaze.
In the end the food was so good that I ate most of it, now I recognize myself... i even drank moderately. I realize I don't exactly look like a lady but there's not much to hide now.
"It was good, wasn't it?" Riki asks me amused.
I look at him, feeling really lost when I see his face, each second getting stranger and harder to handle. "It was good."
"Better korean or japanese cuisine?" Yeonjun asks me.
"Better italian one." I answer.
They giggle, as if they expected such an answer.
I have to go to the bathroom, I get up. There's more drinking, I don't think they'll leave soon.
"Where are you going?" Riki asks me.
"I'm going to the bathroom for a second."
"Then finish drinking, I'm going to pay." Yeonjun announces, getting up.
I swallow upset, the japanese young man notices. "Do you know where it is? Shall I accompany you?"
"I'll ask someone on the staff." I reassure him.
"It's nearby, anyway." The boy replies, pouring himself what's left of the italian wine.
I pick up the bag and Riki doesn't seem to notice, as I'm leaving I hear Soobin say: "Are you that eager to offer?"
To Yeonjun who replies: "I'm the oldest, I should."
I don't know him well but I wouldn't trust his good intentions, he might want to annoy me in private. I speed up, approaching a waiter dressed differently from the others, perhaps a sommelier, of a certain age. He points me to the ladies' room and I rush there, literally.
The first thing I do, spontaneously, is look at my cell phone. There are messages from Heeseung, I immediately open the chat.
There're messages just about 20 minutes apart. Am I wrong, or is Heeseung... clingy? Why am I smiling like a fool? I have to stop fantasizing.
I put down the phone, not knowing what to answer, so I ponder it while I pee. What could I say to him? If I tried to reassure him, I would only end up pleasing him - instead I know very well that I have to stay away from him, that I have to minimize the chances of things getting complicated between us, not only with Heeseung.
I have to watch out for everyone a little bit now.
After washing my hands, I pick up the phone and start staring at him again.
I probably even miss him, but it's not my fault, it's Heeseung who is leading me on.
He.... he's online.
Maybe I'm being a little too direct, but it would still be strange to pretend nothing is wrong and answer him as if all ok. Since I don't think he will answer me in the nearest future, I put the phone away and leave the bathroom. As I suspected...
He stares at me, smiling, I am visibly annoyed. I don't want to talk to him, it's not just because of what he did to me (which I should actually thank him for.... kidding!), as much as it is because he with Heeseung.... no, I have to stop worrying about him.
"Were you expecting me?"
"I don't think so. - I huff, continuing to walk, he follows me laughing. - Shall we leave?"
"Don't run away." He says, grabbing my wrist before I can lower the handle of the private room.
"What do you want?"
"You weren't so obnoxious to me last night."
"I changed my mind." I admit.
Yeonjun smiles again. "What? Did Heeseung talk to you about me?"
"Not at all - I huff, avoiding his gaze. - It's just that you don't seem like a good person."
"Me? I'm a good boy, I even stopped when Niki asked."
"He didn't ask for it, he ordered it."
This time his smile looks annoyed. "Do you think if I wanted to continue, I wouldn't have?"
"Does that sound like what I meant?" I ask irritated as hell, looking at him badly now.
"Yes, it feels like it. - He approaches me, pulling me by the wrist. - Are you implying that I'm afraid of Niki? I stopped because I'm a good bpy - he lowers his voice - I just made you enjoy it."
I push him, suddenly heated. He bursts out laughing but just then we are spotted by the 30-year-old waitress who freaked out on me about Riki. Sighing annoyed, she's looking at me.
"Do you know her?" Yeonjun asks me, looking at her in turn.
I shake my head. "No, let's forget it. Let's go back inside now." I tell him, putting pressure on the wrist he's holding.
"Give me your number."
"What?" I ask surprised.
"I want your number."
"D-Does that sound right? Look I only work for Enhypen. " I'm being funny all of a sudden, but what am I thinking?
"Who talk about work?"
The lady approaches after observing us whispering to each other, and seeing her in front of me I stiffen, Yeonjun spontaneously removes her hand.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be brusque earlier." She says with an annoyed expression but a sorry tone.
"N-No worries." I reply, but I'm actually still pissed off.
"I thought you were dating Riki - she says, and maybe he told her to call him that, like he told me. I shouldn't feel sad about it but... - I didn't want to be rude. Can you tell Riki that I apologized?"
Yeonjun looks at her surprised and perhaps offended that she is not wagging her tail for him. "And you are?"
"A-Ah - she stiffens, pulling away and taking a long bow before him, - I'm Kim Shinhye. I am glad to know that she is here for you."
"She's here because she's a friend - Yeonjun says, making me startle, I look at him surprised - we having lunch with a friend. Just because she's a girl she has to be with someone?"
I see the waitress smiling with really obvious nervousness. "Is she perhaps famous?"
"No... just everyone knows her." He replies.
That's when the door opens, out comes Riki followed by Soobin, who observe the situation puzzled.
"You again?" Niki asks.
Shinhye lowers his gaze. "Mr. Nishimura.... I was just apologizing. Ask her." She says, pointing at me.
I arch my eyebrows in confusion. "Yes, that's actually true."
"Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?" He tells her bluntly but not brusquely, only in tone.
Honestly I would feel sorry for her if she wasn't a complete bitch. However, even so, I don't understand how Riki could be so insensitive without a second thought.... better not to become his enemy.
"W-Wait...you're misunderstanding- the maid tries to justify herself, grabbing me by the arm and shaking me. - You fucking tell him too!"
"But how old are you? - I ask her, annoyed. - What do you want from Riki?"
She didn't seem to expect such a question; she glares at me, I see her eyes go practically all black. Startled, I try to get her off me but Riki moves her hand away.
"Stop touching her."
I have chills, I really do. "Riki..."
Yeonjun sighs. "All right, so you won't give it to me?"
"What?" Soobin asks interested.
"Alright, then we'll continue the discussion on Instagram." He sighs, walking away.
"What are you two going to do? - The japanese man asks, confused. - Noona I leave you for a second and it ends like this?"
"You are irresistible." Soobin laughs, moving forward and heading for the exit.
Yeonjun laughs and follows him, Riki looks puzzled at me, in front of Shinhye who is watching the whole conversation for some reason, not seeming to remember the existence of pride.
"Shall we go?" I ask uncomfortably, under the girl's eyes.
Riki nods. "Did Yeonjun say something to you? What was he talking about?" He whispers to me.
I let it go and don't tell him, as we wait for the guys who are paying.
At the entrance we say a quick goodbye, Yeonjun winks at me before leaving and I sigh worriedly. Is he really going to look me up on Instagram? But really Yeonjun from TXT? I can't explain it.
With Riki we reach the parking lot, the driver waits leaning against the car and this time he opens the door first to me as Riki makes the rounds to get in alone. I inadvertently look into the man's eyes for a few seconds, then walk in embarrassed... I think I'm blushing. He is really charming.
I don't have time to sit up properly that Niki is all over me. He is really restless and I can't impose myself as he kisses my neck and caresses my hips. Why didn't I expect this? It was so obvious.
"Riki..."
"Noona if you want, you can refuse me. I get more horny." He says, between kisses.
I can't move, I feel cold sweat dripping down my forehead, meanwhile the driver has left. "It's no good, Riki..."
He doesn't care, he has lifted my shirt and uncovered my breasts bouncing before his thirsty eyes. He starts sucking on one of my nipples, and as I keep my hands on his shoulders, I can't help but gasp in pleasure.
He is so young... but his body is so big. Everything about him is... big.
I'm really excited, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to, but... it still feels wrong. Riki is just a kid, and I in a way don't want to dirty him too.
"I like the smell of your skin." He says, after leaving his saliva on my skin.
He takes off his shirt, looking at me. "Riki..."
"Noona, beg me to stop." He says, crazed, as he sweeps me off again.
I am under him, under his huge chest. He stares at me for a long time without doing anything, then bites his lip.
God, he is so handsome.
"I know you want to fuck me, so just do what I say."
I'm embarrassed as he stares at my breasts, I can't help but cover my face with both hands. "You're a pervert."
He gets on his knees as he pulls off my skirt, I keep my legs closed but he smiles. "Let me get a better look, noona."
He slips between my legs and now I try to cover my intimacy with my hands, I shouldn't feel shy but still I can't help it.
"S-Stop it..." I say under my breath, embarrassed.
Riki turns serious as he stares at me. "Really?"
I don't answer. Why don't I answer? Seeing him smile all of a sudden, I swallow awkwardly.
I told Heeseung that I wouldn't do anything like that with Riki...but then...why don't I push him away? Then again, would it really do any good to humor Heeseung? This excited kid in front of me doesn't seem to demur as he kisses me on the lips this time.
Unexpected.
"Noona, you are so pretty." He whispers as he grabs me by the waist and helps me sit on his lap, his back to me.
"Riki...I don't think...it's okay..."
He moves my hair, gathering it over one shoulder, kissing the nape of my neck; I shiver. "You worry about useless things."
He says this before unbuttoning his jeans, again, I feel him as he pulls out his cock and rests it on my bare back. Fuck, it looks really huge.
"Can you take it all in this position?" He chuckles sadistically.
I'm shaking, but not just from fear. "I-I don't think so... it's too big."
He grabs my knees, forcing me to spread my legs, toward the driver's seat, which faces me from the mirror. "Then you'll have to make an effort."
He thus begins to masturbate me, I am surprised, because he knows exactly how and where to touch me to perfectly stimulate my clitoris. I gasp, clinging to the front seats.
"A-Ah... Riki... in f-front...to him..."
"Don't worry about Mr. Nam." He whispers, biting my earlobe as I grow wetter and wetter.
Instead a little I worry, in fact, I am completely alarmed that I am panting so uncomfortably in front of him. I realize, as Riki lifts me up by my hips and without any warning shoves his huge cock deep into my pussy, that the driver has become aroused - he is evidently hard. I screamed.
Don't ask why I was looking right there.
Riki starts moving my body with authority, slamming his cock moistened by my humors harder and harder inside. Panting behind me, his voice is beautiful....
"A-Ah... R-Riki... G-Gently..."
"Beg me. - He says, sinking his fingers even deeper into my hips as he pushes me so hard it feels like an earthquake inside the car. - You won't do it anyway, you're a whore."
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Fuck.
My voice comes out erratic but high-pitched as I can't help enjoying the length of him filling me completely. I am so wet that I spurt all over as he simply thrusts more and more brutally into me.
I'm not even sure it all goes in, from the moment he thrusts it in I can't tell. It is as if I am being possessed by a demon that has physically entered my whole body. Since I can touch his legs, when I go back down, I guess it really goes all the way in.
It's unbelievable.
"Ah.... do... slowly... I'm.. I'm..."
"You're so tight, I want to open more you right now." He whispers again, biting my neck and starting to suck in the area where I feel like Heeseung has left his mark.
"Ri...Riki!" I scream, I just can't contain myself, he is using my body like a doll, moving it as he wants, pushing his cock down to my throat while I can only take it.
"You're on the pill, aren't you?" He asks me, focused.
"Y...Yes..."
By dint of watching me, Mr. Nam was about to take the curb. He swerves sharply and I almost hit my head on the window, luckily Riki holds me up with his hand, but then I hear him laughing - all without giving me a second's respite.
"Mr. Nam, you don't want to kill us.... Go ahead and pull over, you should free yourself too."
What? No, wait, isn't this man going to be brought in as well? He's very handsome, sure, I'd really fuck him too, but isn't he a little old? There's still Riki, although now his innocence shouldn't be my priority....
The man nods, and after a few minutes, as I continue to let Riki use me with his cock growing harder and thicker inside me, he changes directions. It is a strangely lonely area, there are a few factories but no residential areas of any kind.
We approach a strange shed, I notice but can't concentrate as Riki continues to fuck me.
We go inside, the lights are all off but after parking, the driver gets out of the car and closes the electronic gate, turning on the lights. I am upset, Riki, on the other hand, is obviously very quiet.
"Now I'm going to fuck you in front of this old pervert, noona." He says, lifting me by the hips and slipping out of me. He grabs my hair, it doesn't hurt but I can tell he wants to dominate me.
"A-Ah... Stop... saying... t-things like that!"
We get out of the car dragging me, when I'm standing up in front of him, I see him throw his tshirt on the ground, then he pushes me against it making me kneel down. "You made Mr. Nam horny...even if he can't touch you, you should make him cum."
He says, as the expressionless man moves closer again.
Riki grabs me by the hair again so that I'm 90 degrees in front of him, practically, at the driver's feet.
Riki pushes his cock back into me, and even though the position has changed, I still feel him dramatically inside. His big balls also slam against my clit, making me enjoy it even more. It is as if they are hitting it.
Mr. Nam wasted no time in pulling his cock of considerable length, but certainly more restrained, starting to masturbate in front of my face.
I don't have to do anything with him, he will just look at me.... Why is it so good for me? Damn.
"Ah..."
"Noona, you really like making men cum, don't you?"
How humiliating, how many humiliations today, but all this only turns me on even more. I'm desperate but I want more and more.... if necessary, maybe I'd even do it with Mr. Nam now.
No, remains lucid Amanda.
"Ah fuck - gasps Riki - should we call Heeseung hyung? This time you won't be able to say... I'm not touching you." He laughs.
Maybe... if I begged him-would he change his mind? "Please... Please... Riki..." My voice is broken, due to his blows.
"He might even jerk off listening to you."
Fuck...if he says these things...no! Let's leave Heeseung out of this!
"I p-pray you..."
"Ah... noona... - sigh tiredly - then you really don't want they to know?"
"N-No..."
"Then you should become my slave." He laughs again, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me stand up while he is still inside me. What a crazy feeling.
Mr. Nam stares at me as he continues to masturbate, his eyes are very cold. Riki starts fucking me again by holding me up by my shoulders, and my breasts bounce in front of the man as the younger kisses my neck and lifting one of my thighs goes in harder.
"Ah!" I shout again.
"I'll keep the secret if you... - seems to freeze and slow down as if he's about to cum -- will let me do anything I want to you."
"R...Riki..."
I don't know what to think; I'm having an orgasm. My voice echoes through the room, below are their masculine breaths of pure pleasure.
"Yes, I will use you whenever I feel like it."
"R...Riki...ah! - I feel like I'm going crazy, he started going hard again. - Don't... I c...c... I can't..."
"Don't piss me off, noona... - He snorts, suddenly abrupt even in his tone of voice. - You enjoy like a bitch and you have...ah.... the nerve to deny it?"
"Mr. Nishimura- the man speaks, sounding like he's about to cum, actually backing away but unable to finish the sentence that his cum splashes against my belly and thighs - fuck...that was not my intention." He curses, surprised at himself.
Riki is equally surprised, as he pulls back but just then I feel him cum inside me. "Oh...fuck...noona..."
I hear him cum for several seconds, as if he really had a lot of it. Then he pulls it out still hard, as his seed slips out of me, I'm about to fall over, I feel my knees go soft, luckily the driver notices and grabs me by the shoulders, even though I see him blatantly looking at my tits, then looking away.
Ah, men.
"Yah! Leave her!" Says, in an almost childlike tone, Riki.
"I apologize." Sighs the man, evidently uncomfortable.
"Sit in the car - the boy tells me, holding me up to sit since the door was already open - do you want some water?"
"Do we have any?" I ask, exhausted.
Riki looks at Mr. Nam, who shakes his head. "Okay, we can buy it."
How cute-no! I have to stop.
Riki hands me a package of tissues. "There's no bathroom here, but we're going home now."
"All right... thanks." I sigh, taking some of them, however I still feel uncomfortable wiping in front of them, Riki notices and coughs.
"Let's not look, okay?" He says, turning around, and the driver does the same.
Ah...why are they all so crazy?
Maybe it's because these are kids who are denied intimacy, what they want is just to get laid and maybe this method can provide for some disorders.... but still, they too would have the right to date whoever they want.
Riki doesn't really seem so bad, though... he's so horny!
I clean up, get dressed, open the door to signal him to come back up, and so in silence we set off home. We don't talk at first, Riki looking at his cell phone, me out the window.
"Are you okay?" He asks me.
I nod in confusion. "What about you? Are you used to these things?" I ask seriously.
He doesn't answer right away but I don't know what his expression is, then I hear him breathing deeply. "To what?"
"The exhibitionism, the humiliation."
He pauses again. "It's the things I usually look at on porn sites."
Ah, I feel like I'm talking to a kid, oh right, he is, more than the others by the way.
"I see."
I hear him snort. "You mean to tell me you didn't like it?"
"I loved it. - I answer coldly. - I feel terrible for this."
"Why do you have to go to all this trouble?"
I suddenly turn away, angry. "Why shouldn't I make them? I never wanted anything like that from you."
Riki tightens his lips annoyed, but his gaze is hurt. "But I do want it, isn't that why you're here? Does it bother you that much or is it really for Heeseung?"
I swallow, why does he keep bringing it up? "I'm not so crazy to think I'm interesting for Heeseung! But even so, I don't want anyone to know about what happened. None of them."
"They already know you've been with everyone else." He replies visibly irritated.
"But not with Riki - I say with tight lips, suddenly sad. He's like a big puppy to me, I don't want that kind of relationship. - Everyone but Riki. Riki is more precious."
Why does he look at me so surprised? What did I say that was special? It breaks my heart to suddenly see him so vulnerable, then he turns around proudly.
"You're making fun of me. It's just that I'm not good, am I?"
"Then you don't believe me? - I raise my voice, but I didn't mean to, so he resumes looking at me, looking hurt, and that upsets me. - I don't want that from you, Riki. You've been harassed, abused, and I know you're getting your revenge now, but please don't stop being the carefree, silly Riki."
I know I shouldn't, but I caress his cheek naturally, and although he jerks back perhaps involuntarily, then returns close to my palm and lets me caress him.
"That happened today...do you really want this? I want to keep being your fan, I want to keep loving you as something precious, unattainable. - I smile, I feel like crying. - I loved you all so much."
"Noona..." He says, confused, as I pull my hand away.
"Also - I try to compose myself, wiping away tears quickly - don't base sex on pornography, it hurts and harmful. Don't treat girls like that Shinhye, even if they are as annoying as she is. I wish you were a good person."
"Noona stop lecturing me." He puts on an adorable pout, crossing his arms over chest.
"I'm not lecturing you."
"We can do it without others knowing."
Really? Is he serious? NO! It doesn't matter!
"Riki! You know I didn't mean that.."
"Do you really want this? Fine." He seems to throw in the towel, and I breathe out relieved, though a little bitter.
"Are you going to hate me for this?"
"I'll have to think about it." He replies with his back to me as he looks out the window.
Really? Was it that simple? Or is he simply testing me to see if sooner or later I will give in? Of course, I was so close.... he really is... I can't explain it in words, but his mere presence by my side makes me feel heated, restless, a fire.
"They haven't always been bad, though - he snorts, after a while, - but some have been very kind to me."
"Sunoo?" I smile softly.
"Yes, he is a kind hyung. Jongseong, too..."
"What about Jake?"
Shit, I ask aloud. He turns and stares at me in silence for several seconds, then snorts. "Not him."
"You two looked close, from the outside." But why am I continuing to talk?
"We look like a lot of things, from the outside."
"I hoped he'd at least been nice to you." I admit embarrassed.
Maybe because deep down I hoped he was a nice person.
Riki twists his lips noisily, back to looking outside. "He was, but then...he turned out to be what he is. That's all."
The way he turns on his cell lets me know that the conversation is over here, he's put a period on it. Maybe that's okay, I certainly can't ask him for the details of the situation.... not yet, clearly.
We get home feeling really exhausted, I want to take a shower but I guess I'll have to wait for Riki since he doesn't have a bathroom in his room. He heads to his room, motioning me to follow him.
"Set up wherever you want." He says, picking up some clothes piled on the bed to move them to the desk chair.
This room is definitely a mess, actually looking like a teenager's room....
"Shall I wait for you to shower?" I ask him.
He takes off his shirt in front of me. "No, you go ahead. You have...a lot to clean up."
Indeed.
I thank him with a nod, then go to Jay's room to get some clothes; he's not back yet thankfully. I don't know who is home right now, but the apartment is very quiet.
As I am about to enter the bathroom a ghost appears behind me, grabbing me by the arm and making me turn around.
Whoever doesn't die... meet again.
"Did you have a good time today? How many times did he fuck you? - He exclaims without turning around, looking at me as if I were dressed like a prostitute. - Do you like fucking children?"
Taken aback, I watch him. Actually he has hardly ever been so scurrilous, so what's wrong with him all of a sudden? He seems nervous but I don't understand why he should be.
"Ew, can you not talk like that? Riki is not a child anyway." Only after I speak do I realize that I have given a very different answer than I had thought.
The moor stares at me for a long time, thinning his gaze in annoyance. "So he fucked you."
Why is he surprised? They all forget why I am in this house. "No, I didn't." I blatantly lie.
"Liar."
"If you don't believe me, it's better so you stay away from me." I reply.
I actually sound swaggering, but I can't even get a good look at his face that my heart rises in my throat. It's just that I keep thinking about Riki's words, his claim that Sunghoon really has interest in me... it's not that I'm deluding myself, it's just that such information is hard to handle, even if it's false.
"As if you really wanted." He sneers, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What do you want S-Sunghoon? Don't you have plans?"
"Cute - he says, sticking a finger in the neckline of my T-shirt to lower it slightly - your clothes." He does it again, like that day in Jay's balcony.
"I don't want to waste any more time - I blurt out, turning away from him, not understanding how he dares to act like this after what happened tonight - have a good evening, Sunghoon."
I go to go inside the bathroom but he grabs me by the wrist, looks at me for several seconds, then his gaze shifts to the hickey that stupid Heeseung left me.
"Tomorrow my shift starts, remember?"
"You're going to say you're not going to fuck me, and then that's the first thing you're going to do?" I provoke him, since he just won't let me go.
"How vulgar, oh my God."
I smile in frustration; that's a wall in front of me, not a human. "Are you done?"
"Sure - smiles the asshole in turn - but first tell me, who did that to you? Heeseung or Riki?"
I swallow, not seeing why I should tell him. "Is that your business?"
"You don't want to answer because it's Riki? You really are the worst - I thought you would at least behave well with him." He has a voice that flaunts superiority, contempt.
"It wasn't him! I told you nothing happened with Riki!" But why do I justify myself to Sunghoon? Why do I do what he wants?
He who had looked away offended, now stares at me again, his eyes serious, perhaps surprised? "Oh, yeah? - I force my arm for him to let go of me, but he tightens his grip. - And tell me, what does Heeseung think about last night?"
What the... What kind of question is that? What does it mean and why does he care? Maybe I got into the middle of a power war, maybe I haven't realized what's going on yet.
"What?"
"You understand very well." He answers seriously.
"No, I didn't understand anything. Last night? What happened last night?" I ask, wanting him to admit it, wanting to hear him say it.
The result, however, is that I see him get so impatient that he lets go of my wrist to grab my face and squeeze my cheeks. "You... you won't tell me? Then I'll have to find out for myself tomorrow."
I swallow rightly frightened, but also very intrigued, lucky I don't have to admit it.... But fine, let him make all the plans he wants - I will refuse, and that's within my rights. If that's not enough, then I'll ask Heeseung for help... though I'm not sure I can really trust him.
I immediately thought of Jay, but by now things have broken down between us and he will obviously no longer be my ally.
"I will refuse."
"We'll see." He chuckles, letting me go and walking away.
He is dressed to go out, meaning he will leave. I watch him disappear down the hall and then sigh, entering the bathroom. I have to send a message to Heeseung, despite everything I've been thinking about it.
im home
He never answered my question and that makes me sigh with sadness, but I put on the music and try not to think about it. I take a long relaxing shower but at one point I feel like I'm going to pass out and hold on to the walls, I almost slipped.
I got terribly dizzy, it would be better to get out as soon as possible. After combing my hair I rinse, cover myself with my robe and sit for several seconds, although I am not thinking about anything precisely.
I feel weak, tired, I guess it's because of the situation.
I am emotionally and physically fragile, but it's best to keep this just between me and myself.
After settling down, I reach Riki's room again, after all, this is where I should be today. He is lying on the bed, in his boxers though, I immediately turn my back on him after entering.
"Noona, are you ashamed?" He asks me amused, getting out of bed and joining me.
I swallow, his voice making me seriously tremble. "The bathroom is free..."
Riki gently grabs me by the face, making me turn around, I shiver. "You look a little pale, noona."
"Really?" I ask.
I actually know I'm not feeling too well, but I don't want to give it away, preferring to wait for him to go wash up and get some rest. He's watching me, looking worried but I don't understand if I should believe him, after all, I'm still a stranger.
Being I here for work, if I were sick I would be a nuisance. Besides, I'm supposed to have my doctor's appointment after tomorrow anyway, so I can get some vitamins or supplements prescribed.
"Shall I order medicine?" He asks me.
I can't speak at the moment, I look at him in silence, he seems so...thoughtful. "N-no, you don't need it! I'll wait to see the doctor so he can tell me what products to take."
"Are you feeling weak? Vitamins don't need a prescription - he sighs, why does he do that? - Sunoo hyung has so many."
"It's ok, really!"
"Explain how you feel."
Oh fuck, Riki, if you do that it will seriously look like you care about me or my health. I sigh, thinking that if nothing had happened today, together (xtomorrow? but reverse) with him and his friends, I'd feel more comfortable now, I'd make less trouble.
But this sort of dissonance between his caring and his sexual urges makes me feel apprehensive.
"It's nothing, I just feel a little weak. It must be fatigue, I haven't slept much."
Riki takes me by the hand, while wearing only his underwear (funny), and helps me sit on his bed. "I'll go wash up, in the meantime I'll call Sunoo hyung. Do you have any pain? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous?"
"I feel a little dizzy." I confirm.
"Get some rest while I try to figure out what I can salvage."
He says this while wearing sweatpants. I try to look away as I lie on the bed, too tired to feign embarrassment. Riki walks over and looks down at me for a few seconds before placing his palm on my forehead.
"Well, you don't seem to have a fever."
"Like a fever... fever... fever..." I hum, I'm an idiot.
The boy bursts out laughing. "You also have a sense of humor, then you're really okay!"
"I'm fine, I told you. It's strange if you worry for me."
He crosses his arms over his chest. "Why? You said you wanted to be friends."
I arch an eyebrow, feeling strange that he gave any weight to these words. "Really?"
"Friends care."
Ah, it's strange. A man's body, a man's voice, several other manly things..... but I still feel like I'm talking to a kid, and it's the sweetest feeling.
I smile faintly. "Thank you."
I see Riki stiffen and turn away surprised at my words. "So...I'm going. I'll be back in a little while."
I nod tiredly, leaning more comfortably on his pillow. "See you later." I say, before closing my eyes.
I don't think I will sleep, but resting my eyes will help.
I feel Riki leave the room, I stay in his scented sheets, his pillow smells like his hair, it is a very pleasant pungent and masculine fragrance.
Eventually, however, I fall asleep anyway, it is too relaxing.
When I open my eyes it seems to have gotten dark outside, Riki is not in the room and may never have returned. I sit on the bed and stretch, actually sleeping has been really good for me, what a nice feeling.
I look at the nightstand looking for my phone but find a glass of water and some vitamin packets there, a method they use in South Korea but not only, to organize them septically.
I shouldn't trust them too much, they could very well be drugs but it would seem pointless to waste them on me who should be doing everything they tell me anyway.
I smile amused, I don't really mean it after all.
However since I'm better, I don't take them and head out of the room. I hear talking toward the living room, I don't know if I should approach, but in fact I don't know what to do.
I see Jungwon in a tank top sitting on the floor, he is eating together with Jay who immediately notices me, as does the leader.... I was actually looking for Riki.
"Are you okay? Niki said you weren't feeling well." Jungwon asks me, apparently concerned.
Jay has his back to me and goes back to eating, saying nothing, and that creeps me out.
"I was a little tired... that's all." I explain, embarrassed.
"Come, eat with us."
I look at the clock on the wall and note with surprise that I have slept for quite a while, since it is dinner time.
"Ah...don't worry!"
"Are you looking for Riki? - Jay asks me from behind, his voice really cold, he doesn't sound resentful but indifferent, which is worse. - He's gone out, he'll be back in a little while. Did you take your vitamins?"
"No...I don't think they're needed. I'm much better now." I reply, my eyes downcast.
The house is actually very quiet apart from them. I wonder if Heeseung answered, since I left the room without finding the phone.
"Come on don't be shy, sit down." Jungwon smiles, returning to his meal.
I nod shyly and walk over, sitting on the floor (since they are eating on the low table) on the side farthest away from them, I would feel uncomfortable getting too attached. They look like homemade dishes, Jay probably cooked them, look really good.
"Why do you sit so far away, noona?" The younger man asks, grabbing me by the loose T-shirt I'm wearing to get closer to him, as if I don't weigh anything.
I can't believe I've heard him say noona to him, too....
He's really handsome up close, looking fake.
"Where have you been? Have you been paying attention?" Jay asks, picking up some vegetables with his wand and bringing them elegantly to his mouth.
I stay to observe how incredibly ethereal he looks even as he eats. "It was a restaurant."
"You had lunch, just you two? Like a date?" The young leader seems genuinely surprised as he picks up a few bites from each plate in a bowl and places it in front of me.
"No.... there were friends." I say this so softly that the two look at me confused.
"What friends?" Jay is the one speaking.
Should I tell him? I don't want Heeseung to know, and I think it would come out if I said it now, though... what if I lie and everyone finds out? What a figure...
Am I being selfish? I guess so.
"Just... Soobin and Yeonjun."
Jungwon bursts out laughing and choking, Jay puts down his chopsticks visibly irritated. "That brat... Did they do something to you?"
Ouch, that hurts.
Maybe it's because it seems to me that even if everyone knew, they would only worry about their pride, while Jay is probably really worried about me. He knows men in a way that men do not accept.
I look at him silently, smile automatically but it is the most painful smile I have made since I have been in Korea.
"No, don't worry."
"Really?" He asks, not believing me.
Jungwon wipes himself with a napkin, then turns to me. "Yeonjun is a pervert, I know him."
"They were g-gentle, then, this time." I continue to smile but increasingly nervously.
"I just want to remind you that you're not a fan here. - It says rigid Jongseong. - Think of your own safety."
"Seriously, stay away from Yeonjun." Laughs his friend, resuming eating.
I can't help but wonder why I didn't leave when Jay asked me at first. I look at him with a broken heart because really, maybe he... is the only one. But there is also the Jay of this morning who is freaking creepy.
"I like Soobin better, he's more elegant." I reply, noting Jay is actually very stylish too, even in his home clothes.
"I would date Soobin too if I were a girl." Jungwon says, helping me lighten the mood.
"You can do it even if you are a boy." Jay replies, picking up his chopsticks tiredly.
The younger man looks at him. "Oh yeah, that sounds too complicated to me."
"You should do whatever you want."
Yeahm.... when and where do you hear a guy in his position making such speeches? It seems strange to me, though, that Jungwon would react like that since in short...I always thought that among them at least one homosexual had to be, statistically speaking. Not to mention the various applications like bisexuality increasing the percentage.
"What about you hyung? - Jungwon asks, shrugging his shoulders in a cute and silly way. - Would you go out with me with no problem?"
Jay slowly lifts his gaze to his friend, smiles amused. "Anytime, Wonnie."
I see Jungwon blush blatantly and cover his mouth with his hand. "Hyung you are the worst."
"Don't react too cutely." He replies in a deep voice.
Excuse me? I feel both too much and horny, is that normal?
The front door clicks open, contrary to my belief it is neither Riki nor Heeseung but Jaeyun. He takes off his shoes and then lifts his gaze to us.
"I'm home."
"Have you eaten?" Jay asks.
I see the beautiful, enchanting, amazing Jake turn a confused, naive puppy.... like gaze on me. "Where's Riki?"
"I guess he saw some friends for a smoke." Won replies.
I tighten my lips in concern. "Does he do this often?"
"When he doesn't, you should ask." Sighs Jake, sitting next to Jay and watching me for several seconds.
"He'll stop when he goes into burnout." Nods Jungwon.
Jongseong twists his lips. "Don't be so quiet."
"As long as we make him think it's weird, he'll do it out of rebellion. But he can't keep up these rhythms by smoking all the time." Instead, the leader explains very calmly.
"His loss. - He mumbles Jake as he seems to get a better look at me, then rolls his eyes in surprise. - Yah, was it Niki?"
I blink a few times, confused. "Huh?"
"The hickey!" He raises his voice.
Oh right, I had completely forgotten about that! Instinctively I cover the compromised part, then realizing it's no use I sit back composed with my eyes downcast.
"No, he didn't do it."
Silence. A long silence between us.
"Ah, it was Heeseung, huh?" Sighs Jaeyun, who, on the contrary, doesn't seem as bothered.
Is it not that he is jealous of Riki? I'm fantasizing, I evidently read too much BL in my teens.
I am lying, however, because in the shower I saw that Riki chose exactly the place where Heeseung had branded me, covering it with a larger patch.
They all resume eating in silence, Jay being the only one who seems really annoyed, who knows precisely about what. Jake on the contrary seems disappointed, but not angry.
What they all have in common though is that no one is criticizing or attacking me. They... they are the only normal ones?
I eat my first bite of the evening when the front door clicks again. I look up and immediately meet Heeseung's eyes, geez...geez! Is my heart beating? Please, no.
"Yah, you idiot! Don't you have a phone?"
Jungwon arches his eyebrows and turns to the older. "Do you have her number?"
I'm the one he should ask. "Aren't you going to answer it?" Heeseung blatantly ignores him, turning to me.
I spontaneously smile. "What? I don't know where my phone is, I was sleeping."
He huffs as he picks up his phone and has a really annoyed expression, then does something with it but I don't understand what and takes off his shoes, stepping back in.
"Have you eaten?" Jay asks, also to him.
Heeseung shakes his head. "If you haven't prepared extra I'll order takeout."
"No, it's bad for you - sighs the younger one, though he acts like an older brother as he gets up. - I'll just take a second, sit down in the meantime."
Despite everything, he can't help but worry about the health of his members, this really makes him similarly a leader. I can't help but follow him with my eyes as he goes back to the kitchen and Heeseung stands in the side of the table between Jake and me.
"All you do is look at him." Complains my peer, catching my attention.
I look at him, not wanting to but surprised he says it in front of everyone. "It's nice of him to take care of dinner for you."
He gives me a bad look, looking like a shaggy kitten. "The perfect hubby, right?"
"And you, if you were girls, would you date Jongseong?" Jungwon asks.
Jake glares at him. "Do you have to be a girl?"
"So to speak." Mumbles Jungwon, eating his bite.
Heeseung mumbles loudly. "No. I would only date bad boys."
Jaeyun seems to chuckle softly. "Then would you date Sunghoon?"
"W-what? No! I would date me!"
"You're not a bad boy." Jungwon comments.
Heeseung is incredulous and outraged. "What? Would I be a good boy? Me?"
"You're definitely not bad, maybe stupid or superficial." Sighs Jake.
I laugh as I chew, so I cover my mouth. The oldest man in the band looks at me offended. "What makes you laugh?"
"The idea of you dating Sunghoon. - I admit, imagining that it really should be an amazing show. - It's cute."
"I wonder who would be on top." The leader wonders aloud.
Jake stifles laughing. "Stop, please."
"Fucking laughing, of course I'd be on top."
"It's funny because you take it seriously." Jungwon says.
We all burst out laughing, even Heeseung.
Yes, because after all he is happy to have monopolized everyone's attention, this obviously pleases him. I don't understand, I should find this unbearable and creepy but for some reason I feel like I can forgive him, that I want to be understanding.
When Jay returns we resume eating, Heeseung, unlike all the others who seem like true princes as they eat (apart Jaeyun who is not exactly composed but not too disheveled either), gorging himself without dignity and his expression fulfilled by the food is fantastic. He looks genuinely happy; he doesn't usually have this expression.
"Where is Niki?" Heeseung asks with his mouth full, gross.
Jungwon seems to sense a noise before the others. "There he is."
In fact, the door clicks right after his words, and although it creeps me out, what really scares me is seeing Sunghoon when I was expecting Riki.
He first looks at Heeseung, says nothing, then quickly looks at me and ducks down to take off his shoes.
What a strange feeling to be in the same room with both of them.
"Have you eaten Hoon?" Jungwon asks, anticipating Jay who didnʼt seem to want to say anything this time.
"Yes." He answers coldly, then sets off to his room without saying anything else.
When I turn to Heeseung I see him with a stooped look and a confused expression. He has stopped eating and his cheeks are still full, he is really cute, even now, looking like a squirrel. Jake on the contrary eats quietly, but it is obvious that the mere sight of Sunghoon has unnerved him.
Eventually they get to talking about jobs, commitments, the comeback coming up soon that will take them away for a long time, with promotions and touring. I look at them wondering what I will be doing then during that time - but of course I don't have the courage to ask.
"What are we going to do with her?" Jungwon asks, seeming to read my mind.
I look at him in silence. "She's coming with us." Heeseung replies.
"I don't think we can do that." Jay reminds him.
Jake sighs. "Indeed. It's dangerous for her, too."
"We certainly can't leave her here."
Heeseung... everything you say hurts me. You're so good at deluding me, I can tell you've taken a liking to it, but I don't think I'm that strong.
"Why?" Jaeyun asks coldly.
"What?"
"Why can't we leave her here?"
Jongseong coughs, getting up holding his plate. "Put everything in the dishwasher, don't leave a mess."
He looks annoyed. Jungwon looks at him amused, then sighs and rests his chopsticks on his plate, picking up the empty bowls before following his hyung into the kitchen.
Who knows what they will talk about alone.
"Aren't you too involved?" Jake asks suddenly, as Heeseung resumes eating.
"Am I involved? I'm welcoming. I treat her like the others."
The younger man smiles, before taking another bite. "Maybe you're right. - He lift his gaze to me, and I lower it. - Give me your number."
I blink in surprise. "Huh? Sure..."
Heeseung gives him a bad look but says nothing. Telling him the number, he jots it down. When things have gotten really tense, here comes Sunghoon, and this time I'm the one who puts my chopsticks down on the table, sighing.
He sits on the floor, instead of Jungwon, so next to me. I shudder.
"Hadn't you eaten?" Heeseung asks, annoyed to see him take a bowl from under his nose and approach it.
"In fact, I did have dinner. I worry about you, I don't gain weight anyway."
I know he's been willfully being a jerk to his bandmates, and I'm too annoyed to stay so I take my plate and stand up, Heeseung watching me silently but not stopping me, unlike Sunghoon who pulls me from the oversize shirt I'm wearing more like a dress.
He seems to laugh, then barely lifts the fabric, not discovering me but this alarms me and I jerk away.
Fuck.
"Yah, what the fuck are you doing?" Heeseung blurts out.
Sunghoon laughs. "I thought you were wearing shorts. You walk around like that in a house full of men?"
"It's not like they're all like you." I reply boldly, even though I feel like dying.
"There's no need for you to leave just because I'm here. - He tells me, suddenly serious. - And anyway, yes, everyone."
Riki re-enters at that moment, looking dazed, maybe it's true that he's been smoking. He certainly is. He looks at me surprised, then smiles genuinely.
"Are you feeling better?" He asks.
"Are you sick?!" Heeseung and... Sunghoon ask almost alarmed. Is that so?
"Have you finished dinner? Let's go to bed."
It's not exactly bedtime, but what can I do but nod? He puts a hand behind my back and walks me into the kitchen, ignoring all his hyung.
"Sorry, I thought you were sleeping longer."
"Where have you been?"
He looks at me for several seconds, then we walk into the kitchen. "I was with friends."
"Riki, you need to be careful."
"Don't lecture me, I told you." He complains, taking the plate out of my hands to put it in the sink in front of Jongseong, who is sprucing up the cooking area.
Jungwon, sitting at the kitchen table, smiles amusedly. "Riki, will you stop doing drugs? Honestly, do you want to be poor again because of a couple of joints?"
The young boy is surprised but equally amused. "I only smoke with colleagues, if I get exposed they get caught too. Let's be careful, we're all boys and we don't meet girls. Don't be on my case too."
"You're japanese, forget it?" Sighs Jay, concerned.
"But I'm too handsome, koreans are dumb enough to get over it. I also have a dick."
"Don't think koreans are so obvious." Jungwon reminds him, who doesn't seem to be taking the conversation seriously.
"Surely koreans girls are." Riki explains.
He should not talk like that about his korean fangirls, Riki, just as is often the case in Korea, is so prejudiced against them. I look at him worried and disappointed, he notices.
"What?"
"Riki, they love you. You shouldn't disappoint them."
"They want me. They don't care about me."
"Noona, Riki has had bad experiences." Jungwon says smilingly, though his gaze is sharp and serious.
"With adult women, right? - I ask, remembering the time he was assaulted by a saesaeng visibly much older than him at the airport, or the lady who touched him under the guise of frisking him. - Then you shouldn't be dating woman of 30."
He snorts like a kid. "She's twenty-seven."
"But didn't you say you didn't like older girls?" Jay asks curiously.
"I was saying that to reassure the fans and ward off the crazy chicks."
So...isn't it that maybe he took the trauma and made it part of his personality? It's terrible to think that after being molested, he would hang out with adult women (whom he probably mistreats).
"My guess is you're just saying that because Amanda is there." The leader laughs again.
"Even if it is, so what?" He replies, suddenly annoyed by grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me away.
I can see Jay following me with his gaze; I can't help but return it.
"Have you eaten?" I ask him as we walk down the hallway.
He tightens his shoulders. "Yes, don't worry." He says it but doesn't seem convinced.
We are stopped by Heeseung, who seeks my gaze. "Why are you dragging her into the room?"
Riki snorts, approaching me by the wrist. "I'm not dragging her, I'm accompanying her."
"I need to talk to her for a moment." Says the older.
"Try again, you'll have better luck." Riki replies, continuing to walk toward his room with me, but Heeseung grabs him by the shoulder, blocking him abruptly.
"I said I need to talk to her."
I look at him and am stunned, what should we talk about? What else will he have to tell me? It's all part of his strategy, probably.
"I told you not tonight."
Heeseung snorts, incredulous. "What did you have this afternoon? - He ignores him, turning to me - Why were you sick? Do you feel strange?"
Maybe he thinks they are the symptoms of pregnancy, but he would have to be really stupid to believe that since they would never manifest so quickly.
"I'm fine."
"She took the vitamins I gave her, that's why she's fine!" Responds Riki who may not be feeling involved enough in the conversation.
I nod even though it's not true. "Don't worry, you're not serious after all." I tell him.
Heeseung just didn't expect it, he remains silent for several seconds until he hears Riki laughing. "Really? You think that?"
I...I don't know. If you ask me with these hurt eyes, this pitiful look I...I can't.
I stay staring at him this time I wordlessly. Do I really believe that, since I said it out loud? Do I believe Riki more than Heeseung? Maybe so, but then why don't I answer?
"Let's go to sleep."
I lower my gaze. "Ok..." I follow the boy in silence, leaving Heeseung in the middle of the hallway.
My heart hurts, again. He..... looks really sad. Maybe he's pretending, but I'm not, I'm so sad.
ok ATTENTION i have a very unhealthy idea... don't know if you know the sims 4 but there are some very interesting mods of this game that could create funny video material inherent to the story hahahahahha i realize it's so silly but let me know what you think ;) i feed on cringe
do not fear for the fourth shift, because there will be an extra chapter, it will be short promise
NEXT CHAPTER:
--------
immediately after the events of this chapter:
#yeonjun smut#soobin smut#niki smut#enhypen#enha smut#kpop smut#enhypen smut#enhypen heeseung#heeseung smut#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen jay#enhypen jungwon#enhypen riki#txt#enha#enha fanfic
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DRAW JAY RAHH
Sorry this one's a little rushed!! I kinda just told myself i had to get something down and this is what that was. He's just a silly lil guy- he's totally not going to dox you or show your private medical records online for everyone to see. Toooootally not 👉👈. Requests are gonna take longer than usual but i promise i will get to them- i just meed a bit of time to chill out and work on some other silly projects :) i dont wanna stress myself out too much with requests (especially since im doing them because i feel silly and also have a life outside of tumblr) so i hope that's understandable
#marble hornets#jay merrick#jay marble hornets#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta#slenderverse#porkbundraws#Porkbunasks#art requests
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Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)
Based on a request:
Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era
A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes
F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming
7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.
If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.
By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.
"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"
You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.
By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.
After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.
Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.
Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.
With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.
And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.
He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.
One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"
You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.
"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.
"Sunday...time?"
His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?
"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."
A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"
"I'll pick you up?"
"I don't see why not."
You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.
During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.
"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.
"Thank you, for giving me this chance."
Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.
6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.
4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.
"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"
You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.
Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.
And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.
Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.
His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
Tags: @anonymuslydumb
A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise
#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod#mwii#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod headcanons#call of duty#modern warfare 2#mw2#rudy parra#cod mw#call of duty modern warfare#rudy mw2#rudy x reader#cod rudy#rudy call of duty#rodolfo rudy parra x reader#fluff#cod fluff#cod fanart#cod fic#graves mwii#graves x you#graves x reader#graves call of duty#graves mw2#graves headcanons#alejandro x rodolfo#rodolfo parra
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Hi! Do you have some personal HCs regarding how Lana dealt with the grief of losing her parents? She'd known them her whole life compared to Ema, and I love to think about (read: make myself sad about) how she managed to balance that and trying to do the best by her only remaining family.
Hello! Honestly, if a question contains “do you have some personal HCs regarding [...] Lana”, the answer is almost definitely yes, and this is no exception! Thanks for the ask. I’ve got a couple scripts in early stages around this very topic, so I don’t want to spoil too many of my thoughts in case I ever want to make a comic about them, or something. (Honestly, I should just write fanfic at this point… I have a rough piece of prose writing in the works that I'll attach part of under the cut... A little teaser.)
Around the time Lana would have had to start taking care of Ema, I think I’ve settled on it being most likely between 16 and 18, since I think if she hadn’t had to stay put for Ema, she’d have moved away to go to uni. So she’d be in a pretty tense time in her life anyway, with exams coming up, and whatever teenage stuff she was dealing with. I imagine that when she got the call saying that her parents were dead, she didn’t have much time to grieve alone before Ema was asking what was wrong, and her focus had to very quickly switch right onto making sure that her sister was ok. In general, I think the thing with Lana is that she’s massively self sacrificial, so her coping mechanism became doing the best possible job she could for Ema, and in that, there wouldn’t be much time for grief between making sure Ema was fed, making sure she was getting good grades so she’d manage to get onto a law course (so she could earn good money to put Ema through college), making sure she could drive, so they could shop and get places…
Here she is...
I think one of the biggest struggles in the early days was learning how to drive. She would have probably been about to start lessons, or just started, (if we assume she was 16 or so) and her parents just died in a car crash. But she’d just have to get on with it, because it was necessary. (She doesn’t have the best record with cars, does she?)
Since Ema says she “used to be so gentle, always smiling”, I think that this was the image of her that Ema experienced most often, so it’s safe to say that she was really patient with her. Ema was probably the only thing that kept her going at a lot of different points in her life.
I expect there would have been some really rough moments though, once Ema was off to sleep and she was alone in a house much too big for a teenage girl and a baby. I like to think that they at least got to inherit a house. (They deserve a little bit of a break, don't they?)
Here's a doodle of her in the first few seconds of having to acknowledge the fact that she's on her own. This is based on a line from the thing under the cut.
And, as promised, here's a little bit of writing. Rough and underdeveloped, I think, but hopefully enjoyable.
The landline didn’t usually go. If it was important, her parents would call her cell. But it did go. Three times, consecutively. She could recall it all. Ema, sitting up at the table with her, eating her pot of yoghurt and drawing in the back of Lana’s notebook. Lana’s textbook laid out in front of her - this was the one thing she didn’t remember. It was physics, that much she knew, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care about whatever was on that page after the rest of what she learned that night. She was smiling, Ema was too. She couldn’t keep her sticky little hands off of Lana’s pens and pencils. It was achingly normal. So familiar. Her parents would have a conference, or a party, or a theatre trip planned, and she was old enough to look after Ema, so she did. She was good with her.
So when they told her to not wait up, to make sure Ema got a little snack if she was hungry, to call them if she needed anything, it was normal. Another night in, another night of making sure Ema didn’t get too curious about what all the fun things under the sink were, another night of studying, another quiet night. She liked them. Sure, it was hard to be saddled with looking after the most curious baby to ever have little hands to grab with, and it was hard to not feel like she was missing out whenever her friends would go out, while she was here, eating carrot sticks and cucumber to try to encourage Ema to follow suit - those days still tasted like hummus in her mind. But it was a labour of love, and Lana was happy to sacrifice her time for her baby sister.
She tried not to be bitter. She didn’t want to be, because Ema was such a joy. But when she’d sit up at the table, nose in her books as always, and she’d hear all the fawning over the youngest Skye, she did feel left out. When Ema was born, Lana stopped getting so many little treats. Her parents used to take her out with them to these excursions. It was a lot of fun to get to talk to the scientists who worked with her mum, she loved seeing the crappy plays that the amateur dramatic society put on, she’d always end up getting sweets and snacks when her dad took her to the shops, and it just kind of stopped when Ema was born. It was a hard time for Lana, but she couldn’t resent Ema. She had a silly smile, and little hands which wanted nothing more than to squeeze Lana’s fingers, and poke around at her face. Holding Ema in her arms while she conducted her first scientific experiments on the elastic potential of Lana’s nose almost made her cry.
She told her parents then that she wasn’t ever going to let anyone hurt Ema, and she’d done her best to make good on that promise until her life was once again torn out from under her feet with the SL-9 incident, and she found herself constantly hurting Ema all on her own in her self absorption. She never forgave herself for that. Ema did, though. She was always so excited to come and see her on the other side of that visitation room, and she still told her everything, like Lana made sure she knew she could. Her eyes looked sad, though. Lana had watched those eyes as they changed from barely betraying any conscious thought, to when they quirked half closed with Ema’s newfound sarcastic smirk. Lana wasn’t quite sure she liked that. Her baby sister was older than she was that night by now, and she definitely didn’t seem like she could handle looking after a kid. What must Lana have looked like?
She knew what she felt like, that’s for sure. Of course, she stood up, with a sigh, on the third repetition of that irritating ringing, and held up the phone to her ear. She was so ready to tell whoever was on the other side that they didn’t need double glazed windows.
“Hello?”
“Is this the Skye residence?”
It was cold. Maybe they did need double glazed windows. Lana hesitated before she responded.
“Ah, yes?”
“Am I speaking to Miss Lana Skye?”
“...Who is this?”
There was too much blood rushing through Lana’s head for her to really hear what the response was.
“Sorry, could you repeat that last bit?”
“There’s been an incident involving a Mr. and Dr. Skye.”
She didn’t care about the rest of whatever he said. Something about investigation being open, something about intensive care, something about an escort car to the hospital being arranged. She could not speak, and her eyes failed. She leant forward, one hand white knuckled around the phone, the other now beginning to bleed with how Lana was chewing at her thumbnail. Ema was still babbling on the other side of the kitchen-diner. She never wished Ema would shut up, but she didn’t want to hear her making these silly noises as if their lives weren’t about to become impossible.
Lana was about to put Ema to bed. It was late. She didn’t remember the time. It was easier that way. She was supposed to be giving a presentation tomorrow at school, and she wanted to be sharp and awake for it. She wasn’t really planning on staying up much longer herself. Certainly not to wait for her parents to get back. She supposed they never would, now. She recognised the way this officer spoke from all the stupid cop shows she watched. She didn’t need it spelled out for her. She mumbled out a thanks, and hung up.
She always hated crying. She couldn’t stand it. The way her breath sounded as it shuddered out of her made her feel weak, and she wasn’t weak. She couldn’t ever afford to be, and that was all she could think of. Lana didn’t notice Ema getting out of the chair and unsteadily walking over to her, and her little grasping hands reaching for the hem of her jumper managed to ground her again. She looked over her shoulder at her sister. Eyes so wide and full of questions, all of which Lana realised, in that moment, she would have to answer. She must have scared her with the way her eyebrows furrowed and the way she grit her teeth, because Ema pulled a little sad face at her.
“Why are you crying?”
Ema wasn’t really that helpful sometimes. Lana swallowed, and looked for an answer. She tilted her head up, closed her eyes, and covered them with her hand, before breathing.
All she could manage to choke out was confirmation: “I’m very upset.”
What a useless statement.
Ema wasn’t ever satisfied with one answer. She just kept asking why. Lana knew that you had to be honest with kids when they had complex questions, so she picked Ema up in her skinny arms and held her while she explained. Usually, she was delighted to explain everything about the world to her sister, but this was hard. Not as hard as seeing Ema’s little pout as she tried to comprehend, though.
As she sat in the escort car on her way to the hospital, as if their presence would miraculously bring their parents to life, she kept holding Ema. She kissed the top of her head and tried not to cry on her soft hair. Her stomach turned as she thought about what the last thing her mum had said to her was. It had escaped her mind until now, and she wished she could let it escape her mind forever.
"No boyfriends over, alright? Be good. Love you. See you in the morning."
She supposed she'd never get to tell them now that there never would be any boyfriends. It was selfish of her to care about something so trivial, so she tried her best to push it to the side. Ema never had to know, either. It wasn't important.
She didn't end up giving her presentation. Or going to school, for the next few days. Ema was at home, so Lana was at home.
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A little chat about my art
-wip of a fox Lucien Vanserra (I plan to do a fawn elain too)
Over the course of a week or so, I have been getting harassed by anons who accused me of using AI in my work, and not being a legitimate artist. Most have been very, VERY accusatory and nasty and I was tempted to make an angry post about it then, but instead I just ignored them, deleted their comments and went on with life.
Yesterday morning I woke up to the ask about AI, and while I was fed up with all these sudden asks, the person who asked me was at least kind.
I don't know where the accusations started, I thought it might have been antis, but if I'm real about it, I don't think too many are looking at my stuff, say for the few strays I had in the past. Only one negative, and one quite positive.
I do not know if people understand what kind of accusations like that makes of an artist, but it IS hurtful! If people start spreading lies, people will believe them and with enough people believing them, it starts to look like it's true.
I have NEVER used AI in ANY of my works. EVER.
All of my work has all been done digitally on my tablets, using CSP. I have been drawing digitally for over 20 years. It is fine if you do not like my work, it's totally ok if you think my anime style is ugly or childish, it's alright if you think I'm not a great artist. All of that is fine, I respect everyone's opinion.
What is NOT ok, is saying that I am stealing art. That I am a fake who uses AI and I'm stealing from legitimate artists who put work into it. I've worked for my art all my life, since I was a child, with the only aspiration to share the wonders of my mind with the world. These accusations, these hurtful things cut very deep.
I've been a fan of Acotar since 2020, and in love with Elucien ever since then. When I looked online, I found that most Elucien/Lucien art was buried under mountains of Elriel. There are some amazing artists for Elriel, truly beautiful, but they were eclipsing any that I saw for my ship. The ones I found of Elucien were beautiful! Stunning diamonds that would often get lost under the mountains of fan art for the other ships.
So when I made a blog that would be more focused on my love of Acotar and Elucien, I made a vow to fill the space with Elucien art!
That is all I ever wanted to do. Was to be in a space I can geek out with others who love the ship as much as I do, to make pieces that make everyone feel. I spent hours working on my elucien comics, just because I wanted to share these with you all, to give the feels. I am a comic creator myself, I've been working as one for almost 10 years now, it is my job. So pushing these out are works of love.
This was my mother's day picture. I had 3 separate folders for Elain, Lucien, and their daughter. I worked very, very hard on this picture to get it out by the day, in celebration for mother's day. My work is always a bit rough in the beginning stages, but I promise, I put all the work into it. I've studied from other artists I admire, to put it into my own style, something unique to me. A style that I've drawn since HS and was constantly mocked for, because it's too 'anime' too 'asian' and not western enough. Still, that doesn't matter as long as people enjoy it, and I love what I do.
An elucien wip of a picture that I never finished.
A picture of a Non-Acotar work I did
Some of my work never sees the light of day... because I'm so self conscious about my work, about my art in general. I never think it's good enough, and I struggle with trying to finish them because I want to only put out what I think is worthy of being shown. Sharing my art is so incredibly nerve-wracking for me, the fear of judgment, of never feeling it's good enough. I put my all into my work, my whole heart and soul into them, and though I know I need more practice, but I am trying.
Suffice to say, I've never used any form of AI in my art, I've never stolen anyone's work and claimed it as my own. I have referenced poses every now and then, and painting styles that I've studied, but never have I EVER cheated through any of these pictures.
Had someone had a real concern, coming to me and asking politely would be fine. Thank you to the anon yesterday who was truly kind and showing concern, but I don't know where this started from. If you are concerned a work may be illegitimate, you can always DM the artists and ask them kindly, I am sure they will no doubt be willing to prove their work if only to confirm they're real. Witch hunts where you just deem someone of using AI and spreading rumors and lies does MORE harm to the art community than you think. Artists are already hesitant about uploading their work for fear it will be stolen or used, but claiming they use AI with NO PROOF, and spreading misinformation is not only doing damage and making sure they'll never want to post again, but it impacts the community as a whole.
That being said, I am still going to draw and paint and post my artwork. I have no intention of backing down. I just hope as a community we can do better and be kinder to people who are spending their free time making things and sharing with us all. It's incredibly vulnerable to put yourself out there, and just remember, we are people behind these screens.
#elucien#acotar#lucien vanserra#elucien fanart#fanart#acotar art#illustration#artwork#my work#anti ai
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OMG It’s You… (Part 6.5)
YouTube! Fem reader x Stray Kids
Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?
⚠️Warnings⚠️: cursing, crying, confusion, fatigue, Lee Know coming in clutch, Chan admits to being jealous of reader (let me know if I missed anything)
🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
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Third Person POV
Y/N never imagined that she would be summoned to the conference room at her workplace, especially by unfamiliar individuals not from the United States. Nevertheless, they were seated on one side of the table, while Y/N found herself on the other, facing a stack of papers with the word "CONTRACT" emblazoned across the top.
“So, what do you say? Would you like to work with us?”
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Y/N’s POV (One week ago)
I felt like I was glued to my computer screen for an eternity. Realizing I was making no progress, I pushed myself away from the desk and flopped onto my bed. I had never felt this exhausted before. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was falling behind. Perhaps it's time to hit the reset button and start from scratch.
Flashback (Two weeks prior)
Pulling up my camera, I press record and wait three to five seconds before starting. “Y’all.” I huff, still trying to catch my breath. “When I made this address, I expected to get some packages here or there. The post office called and told me I must pick up my packages because they overflowed. I thought….You know what, let me show you instead.” I pick up a vast draw bag of packages inside. “I have three of these, and that’s not including them.” I grab a basket of letters or other small packages. “I had to take my grandfather’s truck because my car was too small to fit everything. I honestly thought that I wasn’t going to get this much stuff. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get through all of these before they call me again, saying I have more waiting. I told y’all I don’t need anything; I already have too much.” I start looking around my room. “Where the hell am I going to put all this? I have no room, ugh.” I turned back to the camera. “I love y’all to death, but this is way too much.”
Looking around, I let out a big sigh. “I’m grateful, honestly. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad or upset. I’m more surprised than anything. I don’t want y’all to waste your money on me. I'd rather you keep that for bills, food, clothes, etc. Though at the end of the day, I can’t stop you from sending anything.” I sit down in my chair, worn out since those bags were heavy. “I know I promised you that I would record everything I open, but then again, I didn’t expect to get this much fan mail. I’ll do my best to record what I can. Hopefully. What I can’t, I’ll try to thank you in letters.” I laugh a little to myself. “I feel like I’m digging myself a hole, making all these promises and talking about sending letters. I don’t want to let anybody down. I want all of you to know that I appreciate everything you do, and I don’t want any of you to feel left out if I don’t show you opening up your package or letter.”
I get up and grab one of the big bags. “I’ve got to record an upcoming video, but as soon as possible, I will record myself opening up some of these packages. I could do a live stream of me opening some of them, too. I’ll have to see how I’m feeling that day. Either way, I love y’all and hope you have a great day. Bye!” I turn the camera off and instantly drop my shoulders and head. ‘Why do I do this to myself? I knew I was in over my head when I did this.’ I look down at all the stuff people sent. “Well, I better get started on the album review before I worry too much about these.”
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Third Person POV (Before Y/N’s video above)
The boys had been worrying/stressing over what to send to Y/N. Chan had convinced the rest of the boys to send a gift and a letter from each of them so that she would know who it was from. Some guys knew exactly what they wanted to send, others couldn’t decide. Each one agreed that they would all send their stuff at one time, so hopefully, she would get them all around the same time. Lee Know walked into Felix’s room, seeing the Sunshine himself writing a letter. He knocks on the door to announce his presence.
Felix turns to his older Hyung. “Hey.” Lee Know grins, and Felix responds. “Hey.” His Hyung sits by him. “How’s it going?” Felix drops his head on his gaming desk. “Terrible. I can’t think of anything to write.” Lee Know observes him before replying. “You don’t have to think about it so much. Just write what comes to your head.” Felix scuffs. “Easy for you to say. You don’t overthink everything like I do.” Felix runs his fingers through his hair. “Normally, I could already know what I’d want to tell someone. Right now, I’m coming up blank.” Felix, frustrated with himself, pulls on his hair.
“Do you want to see what I wrote?” Felix turns to his Hyung. “I don’t want to copy what you wrote, Lee Know Hyung.” Lee Know smirks. “I know. I wrote two of them, in case you couldn’t think of anything. They’re not the same letter. Here, take it.” He pulls it from his back pocket. “You can always rewrite it in your handwriting if you want.” He gets up to leave before turning around. “We’re sending them out tomorrow, so have it ready by tonight.” Felix nods his head, smiling. “Thank you, Hyung.” Lee Know returns the smile. “You’re welcome.”
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After Y/N had recorded and edited both versions of the review for the Oddinary mini-album, she sent one to JYP and saved the other for the release date. She decided she’d take a small break before she would start recording herself on opening fan mail. She had to wait a couple of days before she got the chance to re-record herself.
“Hello, Lovelies, and welcome back to the channel! So, we will start opening some of these packages today since I have so many. I will warn you that I’m bad with names, so if I don’t pronounce your name correctly, don’t get mad at me.” I laugh lightly. “These will probably be different videos since I know I won’t be able to open all of them in just one video. Okay, let’s get into it, shall we?”
Little did Y/N know eight boys were waiting for her videos to come out. They wanted to see her reaction to the gifts they gave her. When the day finally came, they gathered around a TV to watch her. “What in the world is this?” She pulls out a package and sees there’s no name on it. It’s also from a PO Box address but from Seoul, South Korea. She looks at the camera with a questionable expression on her face. Pulling out her scissors, she cuts the package open. The first thing she grabs is a letter with her name on it. She opens it, and what she does next makes all the boys happy. Her jaw drops, “There’s no fucking way. This cannot be real.” She looks at the camera, back to the letter, then back to the camera again. She swallows slowly before speaking.
Dear Y/N,
I’ve followed your videos since you reacted to our MV God’s Menu. The guys and I have been quite your fans. When we saw that you created a PO Box, we knew we wanted to give you something from each of us. We hope you enjoy everything you get, and thank you for always supporting us through our journey.
Signed,
Lee Felix
She tears up a little bit and wipes her eyes immediately with her hands. “So that means you’ve seen me make a fool of myself this entire time. Damn. Well, at least you know this is the real me. What you see is what you get. Now you just made a lot of Stays very jealous.” She laughs and points at the camera. “Y’all don’t come after me now.” She puts the letter to the side and opens the package more to see what’s inside. She pulls back and starts laughing hard. “Felix, have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I do. Hold on, everyone, I’m about to show you what he got me.” She pulls out a container of brownies he made along with the recipe on top. “I knew the package looked weird, but I now understand why. He said he had to use vegetable oil to preserve them while being shipped.” She looks at the camera and smiles. “Thank you, Felix. I will enjoy these.” She puts them off to the side and grabs something else from the package; she turns it over to see a little bracelet with his skzoo. “Ooh, I love that. That’s very precious.”
She turns to look at her other bags. “So I’m not constantly thinking about the other guys’ packages. I will see if I have them all to open them one after the other. I’m quite nervous now. Especially since I know they’ll be watching this video.” The boys can’t help but smile at her. She searches through the bags and manages to find all of them. “This one looks promising.” She had grabbed Hyunjin’s and carefully opened it. What was inside made her gasp. It was a painting of flowers in a glass vase. The painting itself was mute but had pops of colors on the flowers. “That is so beautiful, Hyunjin; I love it. Did I ever tell you that my grandmother is an artist herself?” Hyunjin’s eyes widen upon hearing that statement, and the boys do, too. She steps out of view and calls for her grandmother.
Her grandmother comes into view. “One of my fans painted this for me.” Her grandmother compliments the painting, and Hyunjin lets out a breath he doesn’t know he is holding. He also gave her some facial masks since he knew she enjoyed those more than makeup. Each member gave her a letter with similar words to Felix’s, hoping they would meet her one day. They went for more sentimental value ideas since they knew she didn’t like costly items. Seungmin had given her a book he enjoyed reading and even got her a box of tea he wanted. I.N. gave her their Oddinary album book and an unreleased box of photo cards. Changbin had given her a couple of their shirts from the Oddinary merch collection. Han had gifted her a new light stick with a Quokka keychain.
Y/N thanked all the boys for their beautiful gifts, which finally reached the last two members. If anyone ever asked her which two she would consider her biases, she would tell them Chan and Lee Know. While she loves all the members equally, those two (including Felix) stood out the most to her. One package is bigger than the other, but only by a little. Both feel soft like a pillow, and she’s torn over which one to open first. She almost forgets that she’s being recorded. “I don’t know which one to open first.” She laughs to herself. “I feel that there’s more clothing in both of these. I guess I’ll go with this one.” She grabs the slightly smaller one and cuts carefully. Inside is a hoodie, not just any hoodie, but one she’s familiar with. She pulls the letter out and opens it. She’s glad she knows how to speak and read Korean; otherwise, she would have to use her phone to translate.
Y/N,
Usually, I wouldn’t say I like sending things to people, but I will make an exception for you. Your channel has brought me comfort on hard days. I never realized how much they meant to me until I unconsciously looked up your videos. I want to give you this to have on your bad days. To know that you’re not alone and have people who care about you. I have included a small bottle of my cologne that you can spray on it when my smell starts to fade. I also included a unique Leebit plush that hasn’t been released yet. Thank you for being your true self and making others happy.
Sincerely,
Lee Minho
Y/N had tears rolling down her face, but she didn’t go to wipe them. Lee Know didn’t know whether he went too far or his gift wasn’t good enough. But she turned to the camera and smiled, hoping Lee Know could see her. “리노님 정말 감사드립니다. 너무 마음에 들고 잘 보살펴 드리겠습니다.” He smiled right back. “천만에요.” She grabs a tissue and wipes her face. “Okay, this is the last, then I’ll end the video here.” She opens the last package and inside is a black jacket with white writing. Her eyebrows scrunch together as she looks at it. Once she realizes what it is, she looks at the camera with her hands on her hips. “Christopher. Now I know damn well that you better not have spent a lot of money on this jacket. Don’t act like I don’t know my clothing brands; I know just how much this cost and it’s too much.” She shakes her head like a mother would when disappointed in her son. “Good grief. What am I going to do with you, mmhm?” She pulls out the letter and opens it.
Dear Y/N,
I wanted to be honest with you from the start. I didn't know how to feel when Stays first talked about you and how much you were like me. I felt like someone was trying to copy me. It didn’t help that the other guys adored you and talked about you constantly. You were always somewhere in my head, and I couldn’t get you out. I tried, but it only seemed to make it worse. It wasn’t until I found you crying your eyes out that it all changed. I’m not saying that your crying made me change my views about you, but I realized you’re a human being like me. Seeing you upset made me want to comfort you. You were holding my skzoo to dear life. I let my emotions control my thoughts of a person without getting to know who they were. I wanted to give you something to remember me by. This jacket is mine, and I also included something to spray on it when the smell starts to fade. There’s one crucial item in here that I want you to have. It’s not mine, but it’s a replica. I want you to have it and remember that not only are you by our side, but we are by your side, too.
Sincerely,
Bahng Christopher Chan ❤️
Y/N’s emotions were all over the place. He was jealous of her because he thought she was copying him. But it changed when he realized she was kind all along. Chan was feeling the heat from waiting for her response and the looks on his member's face. They see her pull out a bracelet. It’s the same Stay bracelet that Chan wears. She finally spoke up. “Wow, I don’t know how to feel about this. I, for one, appreciate you being honest with me. I don’t understand why you would be jealous of someone you’ve never met, but then again, I don’t see things from your point of view. I could understand if you have people who say I’m exactly like you. However, that’s not entirely true. Um, I’m kind of at a loss for words right now. I don’t hate it, but believe me, I don’t. I love the gift; I love all of them. The letter makes me ask, where did I go wrong?”
She looks back up at the camera before continuing. “I’m willing to look past this as long as you and I get along. And to Stays, please do not go bashing Chan for any reason. I better not find any of y’all being mean to my boy. I’ll find you.” She points her index and middle fingers to her eyes and the camera. As if saying, ‘I’m watching you.’ “I could see that if it were the other way around, I’m sure he would react the same way if I were him in this situation. But outside of that, I greatly appreciate the gift, Chris. Thank you.”
“Thank you all for watching! I hope to have more of these videos up soon. Until then, I will see you next time. Bye!”
End of Flashback
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Present day
Which brings Y/N to today. When she arrived, the overhead boss told her the CEO wanted to see her. She started replaying everything she’d done, and nothing stood out. The only thing she could think of was something outside of work that had to do with her channel. After her Ordinary review went up, she received a call from an out-of-country phone number. She didn’t answer as she didn’t know anyone outside of the States. Maybe besides the email she got from JYP, there wasn’t a phone number listed.
She had let it go to voicemail, hoping that if it were necessary, they would leave a message. They left a message, and what she heard stunned her.
“안녕하세요, 저는 MNet Digital Studios에서 전화를 겁니다. 나는 여기 입장에 대해 y/f/n과 이야기하기 위해 전화하고 있습니다. 다시 전화해 주시면 감사하겠습니다. 안녕.”
(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I kind of threw some things together hoping that they’d work. Wasn’t really sure what I wanted each member to gift to the reader, but I hope it makes sense. Anyways there’s more to come!)
((A/A/N: I forgot to add the translations in.
Blue- “Thank you so much Lee Know. I love it so much and I will take very good care of it.”
Green- “You’re welcome.”
White- “Hi, I’m calling from MNet Digital Studios. I’m calling to speak with Y/F/N about a position here. If you could please call us back. Bye.” ))
#bang chan#changbin#han jisung#hyunjin#jeongin#lee felix#lee know#seungmin#stray kids#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz scenarios#stray kids x you#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines
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🍺🖤This Hell We Create
Sebastian x F!Muggle!Reader with eventual smut, minor Garrinis [E-rated, 4.8k words]
"You ain't got a bad face either, lad. You looking for a partner? My daughter is quite beautiful." You hope Sebastian will chalk all that to the mania, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you. "That she is, sir."
You have a bad day – Sebastian seeks to change that.
[MASTERLIST][FIRST][PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]
TW: alcoholism, grief, coarse language, dementia/ Alzheimer's disease.
3. good days, bad days
When Sebastian collapses onto the barstool, you can see the withdrawal written like plain English on his face.
"You know what I want," he croaks. "Please."
It's another typical weekday in a late summer heatwave. You pour him a stout and slide it across the counter, and as he guzzles it greedily, Adam's apple bobbing to the rhythm, you note the haggard look on his face. He's handsome, that's for sure, but today he's also worn down, stretched and contracted by the universe itself to leave this brittle husk behind.
"You looked like you needed that."
He slams the glass down.
"There are good days and there are bad days," he says, panting hard. "Today... today is a bad day."
He drags his thumb up his temple, plying one of the veins that protrudes across. He's sweating, from the heat and the relief, and you watch a fat droplet roll down his face. It sets a course along his jaw, down the sharp angle of his chin before it finally drips onto the back of his hand.
"You shouldn't stop immediately," you say, forcing yourself to look away. "You need to give time for your body to adjust."
"You think I don't know that?"
You say nothing.
He recoils a little. "Sorry. Shouldn't snap."
"Irritability," you mumble. "It's a symptom."
"That explains why everything is so fucking annoying today." His eyes meet yours. "You must've seen loads like me."
"Eight years' worth, yeah. You're not the first and you won't be the last."
"Have you ever..." He swallows. "How many have beat it?"
The answer leaps fully formed onto your tongue. None. None at all. You've seen people try, make promises to God when they're broken and on their knees... and you've seen those same people stagger their way back to your counter, begging for respite the only way they know how. Sometimes you never see them again, when someone imparts the sad news dressed in funeral black.
"Just because I ain't seen it doesn't mean it didn't happen – doesn't happen. It's possible." Sebastian is much too clever for lies and sickly sweet encouragement, but you stare at him straight anyway. "You survived the passing of your sister. That toughens a person. You can beat this."
Yet he thrusts his empty glass in your direction, a wordless plea that breaks your heart. You refill it in exchange for more coin, and Sebastian doesn't take his eye off your movements – pulling the leaver down, pouring the dark gold liquid, letting the foam float to the top. A skein spills over when you pass it back to him, and he draws his tongue up the glass slowly to lick it clean. You track it hungrily.
"It's all bloody pointless, isn't it?"
You focus on his eyes again, coffee, ground, chewed up and spat out.
"I'll keep trying. Every day I wake up and I just want to drink, and I tell myself no, because that's how it's supposed to be, but everyone knows I'll come back here. If Ominis took my feet I'd crawl on my knees, and if he took my knees I'd drag myself by my hands. I'd find a way. It just doesn't stop."
"It stops," you say, "when you choose to stop."
"It doesn't work like that. You know it doesn't." He gazes at you stormily over the lip of his glass. "Just because you choose to free yourself from the maw of a beast doesn't mean it'll let you go."
Last time he got like this you threw it back at him. This time it feels different. Sebastian isn't angry at the world – he's just angry at himself, and that only warms you with tides of pity and sorrow. In the next stride you're hoisting up the bar door and plonking yourself onto the stool at his side, aware of his scent, musky with the heat, and the way his eyes hook onto you, never once leaving yours.
"I don't do... comfort," you warn him. "Trying to beat addiction is shit, and I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"I'm sorry that you're in this situation," you clarify. "Here's the thing though: you're going to fail. You're going to fail over and over. But what really matters is you don't give up when the going gets tough. You get up. Because the only one who can beat this thing is you."
He drinks again, slower now, contemplative, and he manages to stop a third of the way down.
"Not bad advice for someone who doesn't do comfort," he mumbles. "When I used to live up north, I got to know the barkeep at my local, too. She gave good advice. Must be in the profession."
"Must be all the listening to so many people whinge."
"You love it really." A smile peels out from his melancholy, which is gratifying to see. "Her name was Sirona. She was like a mother to me."
"Sirona?" You scoff. "You make a habit being on first-name basis with every barkeep, Sallow?"
"Nah, not all." He winks. "Just the pretty ones."
You roll your eyes and go to stand, get back to work, but Sebastian catches your hand. His fingers, though large and strong and ribbed with veins, are deceptively soft and gentle, and his thumb grazes over the skin, lighting up some darkness in your chest.
"Thank you."
It's simple, but it means the world.
When you wake one morning, the sunrise has long sheared away the darkness of your bedroom in the eaves.
That means you're late.
You curse yourself and throw off the blanket. It must be after seven. Damn it. You forgot to set your alarm clock last night, so overwhelmed with fatigue that you hit the sack immediately upon closing up the pub. Scrambling to make up for lost time, you throw on a day dress and apron and sprint downstairs.
Your mother stoops over the window sill overlooking the beer garden. The gnarled ridge of her spine protrudes out her back. What little hair she has is wispy and white, like a tuft of cloud, and her fingers crackle when they touch the glass, bony and desiccated from years of hard work.
"Mama—"
She doesn't turn around. "It's a pretty day, isn't it, dear?"
You frantically check she hasn't hurt herself – a scrape, bruise or God forbid, blood – but she seems unharmed, and you send a thank you upwards as you usher her towards the armchair. "It is, Mama."
"Where's Fluffy? Haven't heard him barking up a storm yet."
"Running around outside, Mama. Sit here. I'll get you breakfast."
Instead you race across the hall and almost crash into your papa, clenching the bannister for dear life. His withered face, sagged with age, makes no issues for his beaming smile, boasting his yellowed teeth.
"I dreamt of Margate today. We should go there, don't you think, dear? Last time we went you devoured three scoops of ice cream in ten seconds!"
Margate, the famous beach town over in west England. Your parents took you a few times when you were young, the only family day trips you could afford. The memories are fond and sentimental, though you haven't had three scoops of ice cream since you were about five.
"We'll see, Papa."
You slip a hand beneath his arm, trying not to flinch at how frail he is, and help him to the parlour. Your mama has moved from the chair again, back at the window, staring at the endless blushing sky. It's approaching the later months now, when the morning is a balancing act between sunlight and ink, and you have to squint to see the tiny mound at the back of the garden, where Fluffy has been buried for four years.
It doesn't matter that they forget, that they can't help themselves anymore. They're all you have left.
You feed them, you dress them, you wash them of their soiled clothes. You tuck them into their respective armchairs, then take a moment to clean yourself, checking periodically between sponging away last night's sweat to make sure they haven't fallen over and knocked into something. There's no time for grub now, so you head downstairs just as the front door bangs.
"Ada, hello."
Ada's low-cut dresses don't surprise you anymore; you don't have to imagine what she does after she's finished here for the day. She tears the cigarette from her lips and blows the smoke out, the stink of it stifling.
"Late today?"
"I slept in."
"Still counts as my time. And I want payment upfront."
It's getting more costly – two shillings, six pence – but you pay it, because the alternative is much worse. Ada bites each coin before pocketing them and silently making her way upstairs.
You snatch an apron from the side. It's time to work. You count the stock, clean the tables, accept deliveries and prepare food all before the other staff arrive – Bonny gives you a sweet smile.
"You aw'right, Miss?"
Her assaulter behind bars, she's been feeling much better about coming to work. It'll never be the same for her, but you take some comfort in knowing there's peace in closure.
"I'm fine. Can you rake the garden today?"
"'Course, but..."
"What?"
"Your hair's got a mind of it's own, Miss. You sure you're okay?"
You finger-comb it down. "Just get to work, please."
Your stomach growls when you open, but you push through for the late morning crowd. The in-house chef cooks breakfast, breads soaked in hot lard, smoked kipper on rye, beef gruels and broth, which only makes you long more for a moment to sit down. I woke up late, this is my punishment. Things only exacerbate when two – two – clumsy patrons drop their glasses, leaving you to clean up the shattered remains, and another woman gives you a bollocking for bungling an order.
Not even a surprise visit from Sebastian at eleven o'clock brightens your mood.
"You're early," you remark, when he sinks into his stool.
He raises an eyebrow. "And you're sharp. I thought I'd pop in. Bad day, huh?"
"I'm not an alcoholic."
"Hey, even you normal drinkers have Bad days."
Then today is a Bad day – a really fucking Bad day.
"I slept in. That's all."
He grins. "Guess it's my turn to comfort you, huh?"
"Don't need comfort."
"Like a fish doesn't need water?" When you shoot him a steely glare, he simply sticks out his tongue. "You're being crabby today. Ever thought about taking a break? Having a night out with friends?"
"No time."
"No time for friends?"
"No time to make them."
"Well, you've met Ominis. How about we share?" You wince; Sebastian laughs. "He's all right once you get to know him. You should meet Garreth too, he's a good sport. What about your parents?"
The bad mood colours with fear. "What about them?"
"You said they were retired. Do they live in the country?"
"You think I can afford to buy them property in the country?"
"Where do they live then?"
"Not here."
"Why not go visit them?"
"I see them every day."
It slips out. Fuck. A stupid mistake. His lips roll, but hopefully he can't see the way you've bent the truth.
"And you?" you ask quickly, busying your hands so you don't have to meet his gaze. "What about your parents?"
"Ah." He draws his thumb pensively across his cheek. "They're dead."
"Oh." Bugger.
His lips split into a grin. "The look on your face... relax, bar girl. It was a long time ago. Happens to everyone eventually."
You don't want to think about that.
"Tell me about them," he says, making himself more comfortable as panic runs riot in your bones. "Are they as crabby as you?"
"I am not crabby."
You are a little crabby.
"Nowt much to tell," you mumble, before he can retort. "Both of them worked here their whole lives, barely a break in between. Mama took some time off when they had me, but while I kipped she'd come down to wait tables."
His gaze flickers upwards. "You lived upstairs?"
Fuck. "Yeah. I mean, I do now, they don't."
"So you're here all the time? What do you do for fun?"
You slap your hands to the counter. Sebastian doesn't even flinch.
"I don't have time for a bloody interrogation, Sebastian. Do you want a drink or not?"
Instead the bastard leans a head in his hands, and bats his eyelids like a dewy-eyed debutante.
"You should swear more. I like it when you're crabby."
"You see that pot hanging up behind me? You're going to become very acquainted with it if you don't shut up."
He leans close until his breath whispers along your nose.
"I like you most when you're angry at me."
Before you can grab the pot, the stock room door groans opens.
"Dear!" cries your mama.
Every muscle in your body goes cold. You swing around, sure you misheard the voice, but it is her, smile wide and ignorant, shuffling towards you with the pace of a determined turtle.
You freeze. How did she get downstairs? And why? What the hell is Ada doing? And why isn't it the thing you're bloody paying her for?
"Mama," you step forwards to intercept her, "you shouldn't be here—"
"Oh, hello, young man," she says, regarding Sebastian. "My, you're very muscular, aren't you?"
You flush. "Mama—"
"Part of my job, ma'am," Sebastian responds smoothly. "I see where your daughter's beauty comes from."
You lose the ability to speak. My beauty? Your mother chortles. "What a charmer. What are you having?"
There's no beer in front of him, but still he says, "Stout."
"Ah." There's a twinkle in her eye. "That's my favourite of the beers. Did you know the name comes from its strength? Not one for the weak-willed."
"I didn't know that." His eyes slide to you. "Good to know I'm not weak-willed."
"I will never forget my first sip. Seventeen, managed to flirt with the barkeep for a pint to impress another man. Was sitting in that very stool. I knew he saw right through me but he gave me a pint anyway. Awful, didn't have the stomach for it back then, yet I drank the whole thing. Funny. I never saw the other man after that night, but the barkeep, well." She gives you a squeeze. "I think there was magic involved."
"I'll bet," Sebastian replies. "It's always good to believe in a little magic."
"Mama," you say tiredly. "Let's get you back upstairs."
"I miss Margate," she says as you take her arm. "We should go to Margate, shouldn't we, dear? The beach is lovely. Your father misses it so much, and you can have your ice cream."
"One day, Mama."
Sebastian gets to his feet. "Let me help you."
You can't say no. He ducks beneath the bar door and snakes his arm through your mother's. She looks at him strangely.
"Hello there. Where did you come from?"
It feels like your life is collapsing. This part of your image, carefully crafted to hide a terrible secret, has cracked upon the face – and what good is porcelain when it is no longer perfect? You put one foot after the other, mindful of your mama's pace, and Sebastian's, as you lead her into the stock room, and to the stairs leading back up to the house.
Ada is halfway down once you shut the door behind you. Her face is flushed. "Swear, I went to help your papa wash— I was only gone for two seconds—"
"Later," you snap. "Just do your bloody job now."
She heads back up the stairs, sheepish, as you and Sebastian follow up, and finally get her settled back into her armchair. You're frighteningly aware of how silent Sebastian is, how his eyes dart about, drinking in the details of your home, your space. Already you're thinking of a hundred excuses. She's just sick, this isn't normal, she didn't forget who you were in the space of a minute. It's useless now.
Sebastian will see through it all.
He doesn't say a word when you return back downstairs, after you lock the stockroom door. The day has turned from Bad to Catastrophic – the best you can do now is damage control.
Your pour him a stout and slide it to him.
"Please don't tell anyone."
He stares at it, confused. "What?"
"You can have free drinks, forever," you whisper. "Food too. Whatever you want—"
"Whoa, bar girl!" He laughs. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't need charity."
"Money then?"
"What makes you think I'll tell anyone?"
You flick your gaze between his eyes, but he's quite serious. "I know they're... they're..." mad, you can't say aloud, "but please, you can't tell anyone. I can't have them sent away to an asylum. They're all I have left."
"I'm not going to tell anyone," he says softly. "I promise."
It's not very reassuring, frankly. You paid Ada to take care of them, and she couldn't even do that. But Sebastian's never broken his word before, not with you, not with Bonny. You just wish he didn't know – wish you could erase the memory like it never existed at all.
"Are you going to take them?" he asks, breaking your train of thought.
"What?"
"To the beach?" Sebastian leans his head in his hands again. "Your mama wanted to go, said your father did too..."
You blurt a shrill laugh. "'Course not. The nearest beach is miles away and I ain't got the time nor money to get them there."
"I can take them."
That feeling you've been ignoring stirs again. You push it down.
"Yeah, all right, Sebastian, and I'll quit my job tomorrow to pursue a passion in ballet."
"Bet you'd look good in a tutu."
You flush despite yourself. "No offence, but you can barely walk in a straight line, and they can't leave the house!"
"I can be sober for a few hours. And if it's only one morning it'll be fine, right? It's not good to keep them cooped up there. Your mama seemed fine."
You shake your head. "No, no, she— and my papa— they aren't well." They're not right in the head anymore. "I appreciate the offer, but—"
"That's too bad." Sebastian shrugs. "I've decided to decline you."
"You— what?"
"I'm taking them to the beach." He makes it sound like he's offering to pick up some groceries at the market. "What day works best? Tomorrow? Meant to be nice weather. You can leave Bonny in charge for a bit."
"Are you nuts? How would you even get them there?"
"If I tell you," he grins, "I'll have to..."
"God, be serious, for once in your bloody—"
He takes your hand suddenly. This is only the second time now, but again you're totally arrested, focus pinpointed on the tenderness with which he squeezes you – with grip as firm as a promise unbroken.
"I can do it."
You swallow the hope down, but it persists like a lump. Is it a trick? Have you been lured by silver words and pretty smiles? Sebastian is a master of pretence and possesses not just a dark streak – but a demonic one. What if he hurts your parents? What if he turns them into the authorities? They're vulnerable people, and they're all you have left. Yet you can't bring yourself to say no anymore. You can't bring yourself to push him away, not when it seems like he would carry the world on his shoulders for a glimpse of your smile.
To make my parents happy, you correct yourself tersely. Parents, not me. He's doing it for them. That's why you're doing this too – for them.
"All right," you concede in a whisper. "But you can't just take them. I have to go, and I need to know logistics."
"I meet you here before dawn, I'll collect your parents, and you make you way over before us. I'll even let you ride my carriage."
"You have a carriage?"
"I can get one."
"You can... get one..."
"A man can't get a carriage now?"
"Not by tomorrow."
"I know the right people."
"In the police?"
He winks. "If I tell you..."
You roll your eyes. "Okay, so let's say I manage to believe you'll conjure a carriage from thin air as you escort my parents in God-knows-what contraption. How long will it take you to get there?"
"Don't worry about that. I'll be there before you."
The retort leaps onto your tongue, but when he gives you that look, the low-lidded eyes, the flicker of mischief, daring for you to challenge him, your words promptly back down.
"Trust me?" he asks.
How? The question burns, desperate for answers. Sebastian is an elaborate puzzle made of a thousand pieces, except most of them are missing and the few you have don't fit together.
"I'll try." You take a deep breath. "They're all I have left, and I swear to God, Sebastian, if you hurt them... I will hunt you down."
Sebastian slides the correct change across the counter, then downs his drink in one go.
"Oh, bar girl," he says with a laugh, "I'll be disappointed if you don't."
"We're going to the beach today."
If you were a lantern, the way their faces light up could fuel you for a hundred years.
"Margate?" asks your father, facing his wife. "You hear that, darling? The beach in Margate. I've been wanting to go there."
"Not Margate," you explain, and you hate having to temper their expectations, "but yes, the beach, Papa."
"We'll get you ice cream, dear," says your mama.
"I'd like that," you say, smiling.
You left Bonny in charge, giving her the keys and a list of hastily-scrawled instructions about what to do and when to do it. Bonny reassured she'd leave everything spick and span, and you're forced to believe her. You haven't taken a day trip out in – well, since your parents were healthy, and the anticipation excites you as it makes your stomach churn.
At precisely five-thirty, there's a knock at the pub's door. With the carriage and horses waiting on the road as promised, Sebastian leans against the wall with a cigarette jammed in his mouth. He jabs the orange stub into the wall when you bring out a sack of your belongings.
"You smoke now?"
"Good morning to you too. If you must know, it helps relieve the withdrawal." His gaze rakes you up and down, making you blush before it hooks on your footwear. "No, no. Go put some boots on."
"What's wrong with these? They're day shoes, easy to slip on and off for the sand."
"Trust me, you'll need boots."
By the time you've changed into a battered pair, Sebastian has already introduced himself to your papa.
"In the 70s, cor, I tell you, I was a looker," he says, and Sebastian, to his credit, appears genuinely interested. "Face like mine could win anyone over, but when I saw this darling sweet girl talking up that mug at the bar, I just knew she was the one. You ain't got a bad face either, lad. You looking for a partner? My daughter is quite beautiful."
You hope Sebastian will chalk all that to the mania, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
"That she is, sir."
You snort. It's all a game to him, but it plucks your heartstrings nonetheless, and you clamber into the carriage without looking him in the eye.
Sebastian closes the door. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"Where's the driver?"
"Don't worry about that, the horses know where to go."
Now that is absurd. "How the hell—"
"Ah ah, remember? Trust?"
You sit back in the carriage. "I said I'd try."
"Then try harder." He slaps the carriage side, which prompts the horses into motion. "Get some rest! It's a fairly long journey!"
You don't. The whole way out of the city and down the winding, country roads, you're wide awake, taking in the sight of the buildings and bustle morphing into trees and villages, and fields that roll for endless miles. The horses canter most of the way, so the sea comes into view after only a few hours, the land flat and sparse, and when the carriage stops abruptly, about half a mile out from the shore, you open the door and find the earth damp and moist beneath you, veined with a thousand rivulets of gilded blue.
"Boots," you murmur, smiling.
They squelch when you jump down into the marsh. The air is tangy with salt and sediment, but the sea wind is welcome in the heat. For a moment you shut your eyes, and all that panic and worry and dread – it simply melts away.
As vowed, Sebastian and your parents are waiting on the shore when you cross the marshland towards them. All three of them are as pristine as when you left – another oddity that you cannot explain.
Sebastian sweeps his arm out. "Welcome to Egypt Bay."
It's a small beach, if it can even be called that, settled in a crook between the sea and the mouth of the Thames. The river folds in on itself out beyond, creating a shelf of foam that constantly undulates in perfectly even ripples. The beach itself is a dearth of life, the sand wet but undisturbed, save only for a flimsy parasol Sebastian has stuck into the ground, and your parents, already padding their way towards the ocean.
"The beach!" your father yells. "Wheeee!"
"We vanished in a fireplace!" your mother cries. "Reappeared in another house!"
She must be mad, but you're too elated to care.
"I can't believe you did it," you breathe, facing him. "You actually did it."
He scoffs, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets. "Was there ever any doubt?"
"At least ninety per cent."
"Only ninety? Should've gone for the full one hundred. Would've made a much more satisfying reveal."
He drags out a cooling box and opens the lid – it's full of ice cream. Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, pistachio, a few more flavours you've never tried. The ice cushioning each tub is intact. How the hell did he transport ice cream without it melting?
"Flavour preference?"
You mumble out a meagre whatever you're having, because you're too overwhelmed to do anything else, so Sebastian takes the chocolate – perfectly frozen – and scoops it into two tubs. The flavour is rich and decadent, better than anything you've had, and brings back another wave of nostalgia for times long past.
"Are you going to tell me how?" you ask, once you're finished.
There's chocolate left on the corner of his mouth. He thumbs it away, then licks it clean.
"If I tell you..."
"You'll have to kill me, I know."
"It's more like, if I tell you, I'd have to... never mind." You shove down the curiosity when he nods his head towards your parents. "They look like they're enjoying themselves."
Your parents intertwine arms and kick up the wet sand with childlike joy. You've been seeing them in monochrome this whole time – now they're in full colour, like some spark has been lit in both of their hearts. Even if it's only for today, only for this rare, precious moment, you are grateful.
"It's all they've talked about the last few months," you mumble. "It's the only thing they've really wanted to do. I care about them, but bringing them out... I've been terrified to do it."
"Because of the forgetfulness?"
"Because if anyone sees them. They're mad and they can't take care of themselves anymore, and if they get sent away... I'll have no one. Selfish, I know, but..." Your breath wracks. "They're all I have left."
There's sand in his hair and lashes, sweat that courses down his jaw, down the column of his throat, past his shirt, a slit open to the air, teasing more of his muscle and tattoos.
"That's not true," he whispers. "You have me."
In the silence, you see him watching your parents in earnest satisfaction. He's a stranger, freckled, drunk, odd, and not above using trickery and deceit against his foes. He shouldn't have to do this, he's not under any obligation. Yet he has, for no other reason than he can, and that it will make your parents happy. Seeing the delight on their faces releases a burden you didn't know you were shouldering.
Tentatively, you reach for his hand, and he responds in kind, until your fingers are knotted together.
"Thank you."
It doesn't encompass all the feelings in your chest, that iridescent gratitude you can't put into words, and how fast your heart beats and your fingers itch to touch him more. How your lips hunger for his.
It's simple, yes, but for him, you hope, it means the world.
The sun catches his face in ethereal light.
"Good day," he says, squeezing your hand.
You squeeze back.
"Yes," you say softly. "Good day."
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#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy fanfic#muggle reader#azkaban seb#thwc#the bar girl#my writing#my stuff
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THINGS TO LEAVE IN 2023
presented by your friendly neighbourhood jo ✨🩷
✨ being an arsehole: this doesn’t just apply to your fellow writers, gif makers or readers, but also to yourself. if you talk crap to yourself, you’re giving permission for others to talk to you in the same way.
✨ writing things you don’t like: so, you’re mid-series and you’re not feeling it. the worst that can happen is your wip is abandoned, and some people might be a touch annoyed? I know it feels bad, but also, by pushing yourself you risk burn out, writing sub-par work you hate and feeling disinterest in the thing you loved doing. overall, not good for either you or readers, so.
✨ feeling guilty for putting yourself first: there is only one you. sometimes we have to draw a line in the sand and put our hands up and go “I cannot do this rn” and that is okay. we also need to know which people to walk away from, which things to give our time to and continue to protect our energy. it takes a second to deplete our batteries and several business days for it to return—remember that.
✨ things that don’t bring us joy: whether that’s your mobile theme, a fandom, a pairing, a character, the list goes on, but let’s do the things we want to in 2024. let’s also surround ourselves with people who lift us up and let’s choose things which make us smile. let’s also celebrate ourselves a bit more, cause we’re all fucking amazing.
✨ the notion of “to write X you need to have Y”: the beauty of fandom is that we’re all playing around in a playground with a bunch of swing sets, slides and sand boxes. you want to write X!character going to space, go for it. (pls be sure to label and mark warnings for people tho, it’s not cute to blindside people).
and because I’m a believer of growth, here are some things I’m gonna promise to do more of in 2024:
➡️ begin accepting compliments and not moon-walking away: because I know by not accepting them, I’m both telling myself they’re not true and also possibly running the risk of telling those who are complimenting me their opinion doesn’t matter. be easy on me though.
➡️ apologising for silly things: I’m gonna slip up, but I’m going to try and stop apologising for writing too much, being a bother (more so when I say hi and strike a convo) and for my mental health.
feel free to reblog and add on one or two goals you hope to do in 2024 ✨
#jo’s thoughts#this is just something I’ve been pulling together over the week#I love setting goals#(achievable goals)#and also being a supporting and kind space
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I was telling some friends last night I'd be going more indepth with Mikey too so here it is
Sometimes I worry I infantilise Mikey a lot, he is a favourite character of mine and he's an amalgamation of the most vulnerable parts of myself. He's also given the short end of the stick from his life and the people around him as well which makes me very defensive about him in general.
If I'm a gobstopper and each of my characters are a specific layer of it, Mikey would be my soft centre
(I swear they have gum in the centre I promise thats a thing)
BUT just like I don't wanna give people the impression that Tandy is just a one sided grumpy pants, I don't wanna give the impression that Mikey is a perfect victim or incapable of fending for himself either. Max is incredibly over protective of him which causes a lot of strain in their relationship. Mikey hasn't been treated very kindly by people around him because he's very high maintenance and not very good at making people feel like he cares about them even if he does. Which makes him latch onto robots like Max who treat him with any amount of kindness. Max will defend him from pretty much everything. But after awhile Mikey starts lashing out because, truth be told, Max doesn't really view Mikey as an equal despite the kindness he shows him. Which eventually gets on Mikeys nerves. Max doesn't give him the proper space to heal from past traumas. Maybe I can sometimes pull a Max on him unintentionally when I write about him or draw him.
I created Mikey in a middle of a particularly grueling work week, feeling totally out of my element and very vulnerable. I believe I made him around the time I had started some antidepressants I reacted really badly to or just after I had to quit them cold turkey. I rolled up all those feelings I had at the time and sculpted it into Mikey. It's no wonder he looks absolutely miserable on his first ref
I also based him off an old dell laptop I had when I was a kid, windows 7. I broke it because I accidentally turned it off while it was updating and turned its computer brain into soup. That left a particular impression in my mind of what Dell computers were like: easy to break, badly. I turned that into Mikey being a lot more emotionally fragile compared to a lot of my other characters. I imagined what I'd be like if I was a Dell computer and I figured I'd probably not be happy. I recently got an old Dell Laptop that's similar to Mikey as a gift from a friend. He doesn't have a battery so he needs to be plugged in at all times but otherwise he works fine and I find him to be quite charming.
Everytime I see him I think about how I write Mikey. I wanted to make a character that represented the worst parts of my mental health but also gave a view into how other robots could quickly turn on a fellow robot if they viewed them as being too burdensome or annoying. But I don't want Mikey to just be a "hey maybe bullying people is bad" 90s kid cartoon style moral for Tandy. I enjoy writing him as a character in general. He is dipping his feet into writing and creating comics and I'm keen on exploring other facets of him as time goes on.
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Hey pookie it's me and what about veneer x male reader where reader is just overworking and doesn't know when to stop working with readers job can you make him a drafter pwetty pwease🥺
(I'm sorry for all the veneer requests I'm getting destroyed by work and I'm starved of veneer comfort)
A/N ~ Sure pookie! I don’t mind the requests at all, so send as many as you’d like! I also don’t know much about being a drafter, so I’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate!🩷
~Time to Stop~
Veneer x Male!Overworking!Drafter!Reader
Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together
Relationship: Romantic
Synopsis: You’ve been overworking yourself, and Veneer’s not having it.
Warnings: Reader overworking himself, Veneer lecturing Reader
“Just finish this drawing, and then you can rest.”
That’s what you’ve told yourself six times. So obviously, you haven’t gotten your rest yet. You don’t know why you have so much trouble stopping. You just feel the need to constantly be working. You’ve been working nonstop for almost three days, and your wrist was killing you. Not to mention, you’re absolutely exhausted. But you won’t stop.
~~~~
“Why won’t he pick up? Do you think he’s okay?” Veneer asked his sister. He’s tried calling you seven times already, and you haven’t answered. He was getting really worried, and starting to pace.
“Veneer, for like, the millionth time, I do not know! If you’re so concerned, just go visit him.” Velvet responded, just wanting her brother to leave her alone.
“You know what, I will!” His mood changed to a more happy one, excited to see you. He grabbed his car keys, and drove to your work.
~~~~
The moment Veneer arrived, he was frantically searching for you. When he finally found you, he called out your name, causing you to jump. He ran into your arms. “You’re okay!”
“Uh… yeah? Oh course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, puzzled.
Veneer pulled away. “Because you haven’t answered any of my calls! I’ve tried calling you so many times!”
You were slightly shocked and confused, so you pulled your phone out of your bag. Seven missed calls. “Oh…. sorry. I guess I was so busy, I didn’t notice.”
Veneer scoffed, his lips forming into a pout. “Yeah. Of course you were busy. You’ve been busy for the past three days! I haven’t even seen your face until now! Why even are you so busy? Is it your boss? I can talk to them if they’re making you work too hard!”
“Oh, no, that’s okay! It’s not my boss. I guess one day I just… kept going and never stopped.”
Veneer didn’t quite understand what you meant. He glanced over at your desk, looking at the many papers, supplies and your cluttered computed screen.
“Why? You look so tired, so why haven’t you stopped?” He asked, genuinely confused.
“I don’t know. I just get like this sometimes. I start working, and I don’t let myself stop.” You sat on your chair, taking a much needed rest. You looked sleep deprived and malnourished, and Veneer did not like it.
“Babe, that not okay. You need to stop working.”
“I know… but I just want to finish this one-“
“No (name). It’s time to stop. Right now.” Veneer pulled you out of your chair, and grabbed your bag for you. You were going to protest some more, but he had this strict and determined look that made you cave.
“Fine.” Veneer smiled, and you both went to his car. You didn’t realize how tired you really were, until you fell asleep in the passenger’s seat.
Veneer promised himself that he’d never let you overwork yourself again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~baileypie-writes
#trolls 3 band together#trolls 3#trolls 3 x reader#trolls 3 veneer#trolls veneer#veneer#veneer x reader#male reader
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