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devilslinks · 3 years

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# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !

— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

wc; ( 3.2k )

synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.

a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝

warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.

euphoria.

that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.

the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.

hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.

you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.

“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.

your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.

and then, so did she.

“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.

“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.

“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.

“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”

her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.

her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.

“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.

“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.

“let me take care of you.. y/n.”

“let me treat you, nessa.”

the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.

did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.

with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.

your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.

“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.

“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.

impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.

“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.

“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.

despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.

she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.

you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.

“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.

“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?

you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.

the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.

just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.

“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;

euphoria.

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babytsum · 4 years

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wanna be - m. atsumu

friends to lovers atsumu fluff because i said so.

warnings: none, just unedited so might be a lil sloppy lol, mention of konoha x reader (they go on like one date)

word count: 3.5k

wanna be by the internet (2018)

he remembers you from onigiri miya.

your baggy jeans, loose t shirt, eyebags. he remembers it all down to the way you stuffed your face with onigiris to the neon lights the shined outside. you were pretty, but he was indifferent. after all, he was miya atsumu, a player both on and off the court.

to you, he was miya atsumu, osamu's brother. and miya osamu was simply a friend who owned a restaurant and understood the crushing pressure of being a student with a part time job that struggled to pay rent. besides, one day you'd pay him back because you were one smart cookie, though he didn't know in what way. however, he did notice how atsumu made an effort to avoid eye contact while you introduced yourself. he didn't miss the color that made its way to his cheeks when you held your hand out for him to shake.

and he sees you again waiting outside his team's gym after practice.

that day, your hair was tied back. you wore a long coat that went down to your calves and loose black clothing under it. did you always wear loose clothes? you smiled and waved in his direction and his heart skipped a beat. he waved back excitedly until he turned around and saw hinata jumping up and down at the sight of your happy self. turns out, you were karasuno's manager in high school. atsumu, usually confident and cheerful, now sunk into his sweater while his teammate introduced you to the rest of the group.

"i know atsumu. i met him at onigiri miya a few weeks ago."

he nodded as you spoke. he barely knew you, but your presence had a significant effect on him, one that was beyond what he can describe.

so maybe he goes over to his brother's restaurant more, once or twice a week.

"so, how do you know hinata?" stupid question. hinata literally told everyone like a week ago.

"i went to karasuno and became the team manager for their volleyball team," you answered anyways, how sweet of you, "i actually got to see you and osamu play at nationals. that's where i first met him."

all of the sudden, atsumu wishes that he paid more attention to the pretty managers of the opposing teams. although, he does thank whatever higher power is out there that he got to meet you at some point and curses osamu for not telling him about you at all.

"i didn't know you knew (y/n) in high school."

"what do you mean?"

"i just didn't know that she was a team manager and all that, you know? i feel kind of bad for not knowing she existed."

"oh she definitely existed. who do you think i made extra bento boxes for when we went to tokyo?"

"those weren't mine?"

hinata invites you to watch him practice and he doesn't know if its a curse or a blessing.

on the one hand, you can see all of his talented sets and gameplay. on the other, he usually reached peak idiot during practices, at least that's what sakusa would tell him.

that's not going to stop you from sitting down and letting out a cheer for hinata's, and even bokuto's, spikes. you knew that shoyo and kotaro loved the support they got. it gave them motivation, made them perform better. of course, the team wouldn't mind that.

atsumu just wishes he got a few cheers or smiles from you.

the next time you see him, he's sucking face with some hot model with a drink in hand at a party that shoyo brought you to. you weren't surprised. you were close enough to osamu to hear him rant about his brothers antics, so you brush it off like usual when seeing two people getting a little busy. after all, you were here to take a break from studying

by the middle of the party, you're tipsy and cheering on bokuto who was shaking ass to hot girl summer. hinata is passed out on the couch in a fetal position while kageyama sits down and stuffs his face with rice. osamu joins him and witnesses the mess that is you and bokuto. atsumu looks disheveled and everyone already knows why, all of you just hope that the room he went to earlier was not the master bedroom.

"tsumuuuuu," you slurred as you spoke, a happy smile plastered on your face, "you're a manwhoreeeeee."

"what?"

"i'm joking, but also not," you kissed the tip of his nose, "you're a very nice boy."

he didn't know whether to be offended or flustered, especially with the combination of your little antics and the alcohol in his system, which only resulted in a strong of incoherent words that entertained osamu.

"man, i really wish you met her in high school. she was way worse." kageyama added, memories of you blatantly flirting with your close friends for fun.

"she really was. i believe the first thing she ever said to suna was 'holy fuck, how do you look so fucking hot while shoving those jelly sticks in your mouth?'" osamu laughed, the image of his teammate's red face playing in his mind, "the (y/n) you know is more tame, a stressed college student with a low alcohol tolerance."

you gave bokuto's ass another smack as you giggled at the way his ass jiggled. having athletic friends is fun, especially when the stress from your graduate studies needs to be relieved and their pro player money literally prevents you from paying for your own food. you were lucky.

the day after, you drive to the gym you knew they would be practicing at. of course, sakusa had the common sense to not drink the night before practice. his other three teammates did not.

atsumu is the first one to spot you, a big bag in hand, your hair tied back, another pair of loose jeans and a plain t shirt. it's more different from the flattering plants and small top you wore last night, but he wonders how you can look like this after a night of drunken fun. it was almost like you were glowing.

hinata greeted you first, taking your bag and thanking you for the food.

"are your heads okay?"

"i think i died last night."

"you die every time there's alcohol at a party, shoyo."

"hey!"

sakusa snickered while the rest tried their best to hide their laughs. you weren't wrong, though. shoyo does end up passing out on someone's couch after some energetic dancing.

"what about you, tsumu?"

"i don't remember anything that happened except for bo's ass."

"not even the hot blonde girl?"

"the what?" again, everyone failed to contain their laughs.

"you manwhore!" you chuckled, handing him his bento box.

"you should have seen how red he got when you kissed his nose!" bokuto chimed in.

"i did that?" your smile faded, "sorry, if i made you uncomfortable, tsumu."

"it's okay, i don't remember it." he lied.

the memory replayed in his mind again and a foreign feeling came over him. it was warm.

the next time he sees you, you're at osamu's house to taste test his new food. it's osamu's classic duo, his dear brother that loves to freeload off of him and his stressed grad student friend who also likes free food.

when atsumu walks in, you motion for him to sit next to you while stuffing your face. you're wearing baggy clothes again and he's pretty sure that you slept with your makeup still on from the night before.

"osamu, if you keep cooking like this, i think i might marry you."

"gross."

"what's gross about marrying the hotter twin?" you turned to atsumu, a smirk on your face.

"we look exactly alike."

"yeah, but he cooks."

atsumu couldn't argue with that. you were funny. you were always funny and warm even when talking down to him like this. and it made his heart beat faster, his face a little redder, his smile a little brighter.

fuck.

"i can cook."

"yeah, a pack of cup noodles." osamu responded while you chuckled in agreement.

"they're some fire ass cup noodles."

"yeah okay, playboy."

"playboy?"

"do you prefer manwhore?"

"no."

you throw your head back, laughing again at atsumu's expression. for someone who fucks around, he was easy to fluster. and you enjoyed it every time. the way he would look down in an attempt to hide his crimson cheeks, the slight smile that would rest in his face. he was pretty.

it all confirmed osamu's suspicions.

"you guys want to make every sunday a taste test day?"

"yes!" you responded excitedly. more free food? you're there.

"sure."

after osamu packed up some food for the two of you, both of you walked out. the early afternoon sun was scorching and your baggy jeans and oversized hoodie were not helping.

"you wanna get some coffee? i'll pay."

"what are you doing? trying to woo me or something, manwhore?"

"you look like shit and i think it's because you're tired."

"fair. but you have to drive me home first. i need to change and i do not want to walk to the bus stop."

"you didn't drive here?"

"i wanted to take a nap on public transport, sue me."

after a ten minute drive filled with food critiques, you finally made it to your house, quickly changing into some shorts and a t shirt that was actually your size. your raccoon eyes were fixed and you were back in atsumu's car in no time.

"i had no idea you existed up until a few weeks ago."

"nice way to start a conversation, tsumu."

"sorry-"

"you know, when i was karasuno's manager, i thought you were terrifying."

"how?"

"it was after one of your serves, you had this scary look on your face, but i forgot what you were looking at. you scored an ace, though."

"the fangirls."

"huh?"

"it was those squealin pigs that almost messed it up. i remember."

"you call your fangirls pigs?" you scoffed, "you're a whole manwhore." "yeah whatever, (y/n)."

you both went on to reminisce about high school memories, him mostly talking volleyball while you talked about shoyo and tobio being absolute dumbasses. he was interesting, really. his voice was smooth and his tone was always lively, always showing some emotion.

the cafe was mostly empty, a few people scattered around. the bitter taste of coffee met your lips as you hummed with delight.

"what are you looking at?"

"how are you drinking that shit? didn't you order extra espresso shots?"

"yeah, and? i see a ridiculous amount of condensed milk in yours, but i'm not saying anything."

"whatever." he chuckled.

everything was natural, both easing into friendly teasing comfortably. there was always some sort of glint in his eyes, a sly smile whenever he wasn't talking, reddened cheeks whenever you caught him staring.

being friends with miya atsumu was easy.

every sunday was easy. talking to him was easy. thinking about him was easy. a little too easy. and summer becomes fall. and fall becomes winter. and every sunday, there's a new source of energy you find despite your sleep deprived state.

"bo's sending me on a blind date." you tell the twins excitedly.

it's been awhile since you've gone on a proper date. you really haven't had the time for anything except for fooling around at a party once in a while. even if it went nowhere, at least you had something to distract you from the blonde manwhore who's constantly on your mind.

"oh, really?" osamu grinned, "i would have gone a date with you."

"liar. we both remember what happened while you were in school."

"yuck."

atsumu looked between the two of you, the gears turning in his head until it finally clicked.

"you guys went on a date?"

"sadly, yes," you chuckled, "we became closer friends, but that was not the move."

"agreed."

atsumu had already accepted that he had feelings for you. which he suppressed out of embarrassment. he had already accepted that you would have rejected him anyways. you called him a manwhore after all.

"when is it?" he finally asked, jaw clenching. his harsh tone wasn't intentional, but it was there nonetheless.

"next saturday. i'll tell you two about it when we taste test, again."

"you wanna get some milk tea after?"

"no. i have to buy a dress."

"oh."

atsumu watched you walk out the door, a cheerful smile on your face. he felt sick.

and when next sunday comes, you're an hour late.

you looked like you were up all night studying for exams. he recognizes the smudged mascara, the eyebags, the messy hair. except instead of your usual baggy clothes, it's a dress that loosely hugs your figure. he doesn't miss the way your nipples peaked through or the marks on your neck. nasty.

"samu, i'm gonna need more food than usual."

"you got it boss."

the sounds of the kitchen fill the room as you lay your head down. you turn to atsumu, eyes droopy and exhausted.

"you look like you had fun. who did bo hook you up with?"

"his name's konoha. he played for fukurodani back in high school. bo's such a sneaky lil shit."

"how?"

"i may have had a small crush on him in high school when i saw him at a training camp. i told bo and he probably remembered it and thought it was funny."

"nice," he replied, running his fingers through your hair, "are you guys going on another date?"

you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his touch, "i don't think so. it was fun, but i don't think i like him that much anymore."

"ah."

he internally celebrated while osamu rolled his eyes.

and winter turns to spring in atsumu's apartment.

soft white walls, light brown cabinets, a fridge filled with his brother's food. a few photo frames hung around, the most notable once being a photo of osamu stuffing his face when they were kids. the best part was that osamu hated that photo, yet it was also the centerpiece of his table.

you set down the vase of flowers that you were asked to bring. something about making the party feel more "springy" or whatever atsumu said. you were expecting a nice apartment, atsumu was a pro volleyball player of course. but you weren't expecting it to be this nice.

it almost makes you sad. the fact you were constantly exhausted, studying, and stressed while atsumu was the same age having fun and being a playboy. god, this kind of sucks. why the hell was this man friends with you anyways?

"your dress looks so cute!" always count on shoyo to immediately make you feel better.

"you look good even in your big jeans, but you look even cooler?" bo added on, making your cheeks heat up.

while you and sakusa exchanged a small wave, atsumu came out of his room. an unbuttoned short sleeve, white shirt underneath, jeans. wow. god. fuck. and seeing you in the pink dress that flowed around your body, the sleeves being a little puffed, the same train of thoughts ran through his head.

"you needed help setting up?"

"uhm, yeah. can you guys get the plates out and shit?"

"you want us to shit on the plates?"

"shoyo-" you cackled at the confused tangerine headed boy.

it's a good thing you figured it all out before the guests arrived.

seeing kuroo and kenma after so long was refreshing. and the fact akaashi also had a caffeine addiction was comforting. and yachi? she was so grown now. your conversation with the two was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"hey, stranger."

"konoha?"

you gave him a short hug. both of you caught up on the last few months, the situation being less awkward than you expected. it's not like he was trying to get in your pants again, what was the harm in talking? there's nothing wrong with two tired college students having a conversation, right?

suna's voice became distant to atsumu as he observed the blonde across the room. should he go there and save you? his question was quickly answered when you greeted the man with a hug.

"dude? can you hear me?" suna waved his hand in front of his face.

"don't mind he's just being a simp." osamu responded, a smirk on his face.

"am not!"

"for who?"

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"that cute manager from karasuno?"

"yep."

"you go, dude!" suna patted him on the back.

"i don't like her like that, we're just friends."

"why is your face red?"

"it's not red!"

"ooo! is atsumu afraid of (y/n)'s cooties?"

"suna, we're twenty three."

"and you act like you're sixteen with this lil crush, atsumu."

atsumu sighed in response. it was too late. you were going to go home with konoha, or maybe you two would go to his many spare rooms. and you would go on another date. fall in love with him. marry him. have his kids.

"she calls me a manwhore a lot."

"she's not wrong."

"aren't you two supposed to be supportive?"

"no." they both said in unison.

"look just offer to give her a house tour or something," suna advised nonchalantly, "works every time."

"good idea."

feeling a presence behind you, you turned around only to be met with a scary looking blonde towering over you. konoha kissed your cheek and bid you a farewell once he realized another figure grabbing your attention.

"house tour?"

"thought you'd never ask, manwhore."

after a tour of a guest room, a bathroom, and a washing machine, the two of you finally made it to his master bedroom. of course, the pillows on his bed were thrown around and there were a few shirts thrown on the floor.

"i may have forgotten to, uh, put those away."

"how are you gonna give me a house tour and forget to clean your house."

"i remembered to fold my blanket!"

"you don't fold your blanket when you wake up? do you even make your bed in the morning?"

"shut up."

you chuckled as he looked away, a poor attempt to hide his face. judging by the mess of clothing, the setter probably had no idea what to wear for his party. the one that was being hosted by him, in his own apartment, right now.

"i see you had a little fashion show this morning."

"i didn't know what to wear!"

"you're the host!"

"what if i looked bad?"

"who cares?"

he looked at you, a confused expression on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth slightly parted open. your eyes landed on his lips before you immediately turned away. you couldn't get distracted, but he looked so pretty. instead, you sat down on the bed, finding a pillow to rest your head against.

"if it makes you feel better, you look really nice today, tsumu."

"i did it! you finally didn't call me a manwhore!"

"you're still a manwhore."

he pouted while you threw your head back in laughter once again. atsumu took this as an opportunity to sit next to you on his bed, readjusting your head onto his lap. you looked up at his face, eyes boring deep into yours.

"what are you thinking about?"

"you."

"do i have something on my face?"

"no."

his fingers made its way onto your scalp, slowly massaging your head. a moan left your lips at the satisfying feeling. the past few weeks have only stressed you out, but atsumu's presence cushioned you when necessary.

"how's konoha?"

"he's okay, i'd honestly become friends with him if he wanted to."

"didn't he give you a kiss?"

"it was just a cheek kiss."

"you wouldn't mind if i gave you one, right?"

"who cares? i think everyone should give their homies a kiss."

and with that, his lips met yours. his were soft and warm, and though you were caught by surprised, you kissed back. you two melded together until you sat back up.

"i meant a cheek kiss, but whatever."

"you kissed back!"

"no, i didn't."

"did to."

"i don't want your cooties."

"are you five?"

you rolled your eyes, laying back down on the bed. he ended up giving you a kiss on the cheek, then slowly traveled to your ear, then your neck, then dangerously close to your chest. he laid down next to you, arms around your waist, head resting on the crook of your neck. you acted as if you were indifferent, but of course your cheeks still heated up and your heart was beating faster than usual.

"do you wanna be my girl?"

"no."

"rude."

he chuckled into your neck while you grinned, turning your head to look at the pretty setter. it only resulted in more kisses on your face which you happily received.

"is osamu still single?"

"don't even joke about that."

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #inarazaki #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya fluff #hq fluff #hq fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fics #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu miya imagine #🍓.writes

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kangaracha · 4 years

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tell me about your ocs tho

you asked for this

so it’s been like, a while, since i really looked at my ocs outside of zombies, and also my work with the most proper ocs for zombies isn’t published yet, so i’m just going to do the three from other fandoms that i have big fics for and if you wanna hear about my little zombies ocs you can ask about em. okay. okay.

this is also really hard cause these characters go through so much change over the course of these fics, and i’m trying not to give away spoilers xD i will try. my best.

the OG. the one and only. the working-through-your-teenage-frustrations character. i love her.

IMOGEN HAYLOCK

mcu - read sparrow

so the thing with imogen is that i wanted to do something different to the other oc fics I’d seen so far in this fandom. which is not to say those fics were bad or anything, i love them, i just want to be different. I was interested in writing a character that was like....not the perfect fit for the avengers, or the girl that got along with everyone, and then i saw TWS and related media (lookin at you, agents of shield), and i was like, ‘okay but if you were just hydra by name and working by shield values and principles all that time, and then suddenly you had to get up and kill your coworkers....’ and imogen Began.

i find her interesting for her wit and dry humour, her sarcasm and her big attitude - but also, her frustration with life, the deep-cut anger that she’s carrying with her like a rock, her struggle with self-worth and the way she presents herself to the world, and her complete average-ness in a place where everyone is exceptional. she’s nothing special - she’s just skating by, actually, she’s a high school dropout and on probation as a shield agent, and she’s really only off the streets because hydra value her as an object that might hold some valuable information related to a twenty year old cold case that doesn’t even have any relevance anymore in the grand scheme of things.

in sparrow, she finds something to relate to in clint barton - avenger, but also human disaster zone, making things up on the fly, most overlooked superhero of the century, completely regular guy with one unusual skill. she has to learn to be open to change and to want to be a good person, instead of an angry, ignorant person who will blindy follow whatever order she’s given and pick fights with anyone that disagrees with her. she also realises a lot of things that she should have realised sooner - that what’s left of her family is toxic as hell, that she’s been blindy following the forces of evil for years, that she doesn’t have to be an angry child from a broken home anymore, and that there’s a whole, scary world out there waiting for her and she can go and find anything she wants.

the rest of the trilogy, flicker and swift, follow her finding her way in the world, figuring out who she’s going to be and what she’s going to do, which is very relatable to me rn. it’s like therapy. flicker is also a great opportunity for me to have a crack at writing a romance as a side plot, and getting to let this character grow and realise her own self-worth and that yes, she can actually love and be loved in lots of different ways, is so satisfying. swift is just the icing on the cake, swift is her coming into her power, in her own way, it’s her looking back and realising that she’s changed her life and that she could do it after all, it’s a satisfying ending, i promise. i’m going to share it with you one day.

the slaughter of the lambs is kind of the sequel to the very first ac game that i always wanted and never got - except it’s not about altair because. i’m ~special~. the fic is set 20 years after the game, in the Levant, and is split into 4 parts spanning most of marwa’s lifetime, starting in 1211 AD and ending in 1257 AD and following her through the golden era of the assassin’s and the brotherhood’s downfall. it’s canon complaint, but runs like....canon adjacent. it’s its own story.

MARWA ABADI

assassin’s creed - read the slaughter of the lambs

marwa begins this story as a novice training in masyaf, the only female assassin in all of the levant. she’s raw and half-trained, never seen combat, her strength and ability put into doubt every day - but she’s talented too, and she works twice as hard as the boys, determined to prove everyone wrong. she’s tough and scrappy because she has to be to survive in the world she’s put herself in, and just a little too self-confident, which leads her to a downfall but also an important learning curve about wit and wisdom and loyalty, and the importance of striking a balance between free will and service to a cause.

the rest of the story follows these themes on through the times of most upheaval in her life, as she struggles with following the creed and the beliefs of the assassin order and playing her role as a soldier for this cause, and with doubt and acting in accordance with her own personal morals and beliefs, which as time goes on and the assassin’s change, she finds do not always align. she has a strong sense of right and wrong and a strong character to back this up, and she strives throughout her life to become wise like her mentors were and to guide the world as best she can towards the right kind of future, as an assassin is supposed to.

i wrote this character to explore the idea of being a servant to a higher order, to being faceless and lost to time and serving your cause knowing that, and how you find peace with giving your life over to that. especially coming from this day and age, when everything is recorded and everyone wants to be remembered for something, i found this interesting to explore. as marwa developed as a character, the other things came; her struggle with blind loyalty and festering doubt and the careful balance that she needs to strike between them, the folly of youth and the wisdom that she gains as she grows older, and the struggle of being a woman living in a male-dominated period of history and dedicating herself to a craft usually reserved for men.

the first thing you need to understand about this fic, and this character, is that this is the therapy fic. this is me working through my own issues, but like also add +10 drama so that it’s interesting. and a romance plot, because i need the practise.

ANGIE SOMMARS

pokemon - read to go beyond your borders

angie’s story is mostly a sword/shield fic, though i borrowed some characters and stuff from diamond/pearl. the timelines are not canon. it’s set the year after the events of sw/sh, in galar. it follows angie through the gym challenge and her own personal conflicts, of which she has a laundry list. the fic finds her freshly arrived in galar from her home region in sinnoh, having run away from her responsibilities and the pressure of them at home looking for some kind of answer to her problems, or reassurance that she’s still good at what she does.

angie’s main conflict centres around her being the champion of the sinnoh league, a talented and experienced pokemon trainer sitting painfully exposed in the public eye. she struggles hugely with the reality of this position, and all the expectations that are put up to the person that holds it - she’s expected to be the strongest trainer in the region, to keep up a positive public image as the figurehead of the pokemon league, to be on the job most days of the year and ready for whatever it might throw at her. there’s always someone pushing her to be better, to present herself the way they think she should - and she’s used to being pushed and to being shaped, but there’s only so far you can bend a person before they will break.

angie is burnt out. she’s been in the public eye since she was five years old and competing in pokemon contests, and she’s far from the perfect princess of the league. her mistakes follow her around like a black cloud, creating controversy every time she reaches a new goal and drawing more and more bad press every time she messes something up. she doesn’t know what her own goals are anymore, and she doesn’t know where to go from the platform she’s found herself stranded on - she’s clinging to a position she’s too afraid to admit she doesn’t want anymore, and she’s scared to fall, or to break, or to look out to different horizons.

angie’s story explores the double-edged sword of fame and fortune, the satisfaction of being the best but also the scrutiny people place you under, the impact of ‘cancel culture’ on an individual, depression and anxiety and the endless circles of guilt in a toxic family environment...but also the hope of finding new horizons and finding the courage to take those first steps into the future that you want. it’s a coming of age kind of story, it’s young people finding their feet and new friends and new dreams and supporting each other through hard times. and it all ends well, which, to me, is the most important thing.

#original characters #ocs #mcu #pokemon swsh #assassins creed #zombiedadthoughts #zombiedadfics #imogen haylock #marwa abadi #angie sommars #sparrow #tgbyb #tsotl

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tht-lesbian-fangirl · 4 years

Note

I get people are sentimental with Kara and James bc of s1 and all but I couldn’t even say they were karas only good pairing because James had Lucy on one arm and kara on his other one. Like that part of it always just never sat right with me. But outside from that I don’t know how I’m supposed to see them positively the way most do. So is there a way you can analyze this for me in a way to, as they say, make it make sense? lol thanks!

Anon, I completely understand where you’re coming from, so I’ll do my best to articulate why I still really loved Karolsen in season 1.

1. Who season 1 James was as a character:

He’s a hardworking, stand-up, kind, and funny man, despite it being a rarity for a man on Supergirl to have all those wonderful attributes. James was the type of guy who’d run towards a bomb for someone he loved.

He had Superman comic book history that the show expanded upon and gave a deeper meaning behind him being a photographer. He was his own interesting, dynamic character with a good heart.

In regards to Lucy Lane, she did break up with him and I think it’s tougher to get over someone when you aren’t the one who ended it, especially if they’re as amazing as Lucy and especially if they pop back up into your life. The way he emotionally flipped between them wasn't totally excusable and I certainly don't wanna brush it off, but I will say that his confusion was understandable and he never had malintent. I think season 1 would’ve wrapped up any romantic feelings James had left for her, allowing Karolsen to develop in a completely healthy way. Perhaps we’d see Kara and James discuss that bumpy start to their relationship at some point, but if it was addressed in a healthy way and they were on the same page, I think it would’ve been alright.

(Side note, since James and Lucy are both off Supergirl, I sincerely hope we find out that they’ve worked it out and are happily together by the end of the show)

2. How he compares to other men vying for Kara’s love:

Unlike Winn (and kinda Mon-el), James never kissed Kara without permission. In fact, when redk-infected Kara kissed him, he pulled away and knew something was off. He also didn’t try to put Kara in a bathing suit as a supersuit or assume she didn’t want him only because she’s gay, but let’s not get into THAT…

Unlike Mon-el, James listened to Kara, supported her heroics, had intrinsic motivation to be good, never berated her in public or in private, never lied, never acted violent or possessive, never stood idly by when Kara was being tortured, etc…

Unlike William, James didn’t pursue her to the point of discomfort or talk about her incessantly to random people to the point of seeming obsessed after only knowing her for a few weeks: “Kara Danvers THIS, Kara Danvers THAT” (guys it’s not cute, it’s creepy!!)

Unlike all three men, when Kara “friend-zoned” James at the start of season 2, he completely respected that decision. He didn’t get mad or try to guilt her out of it or keep popping up with food. Despite the break up not making any sense but Whatever

3. What he meant to Kara (before the CW decided to shove him aside for slaver mcgee):

He was pretty much the only man Kara ever actively wanted to be with. We saw how Kara acted when she had a crush and yearned and searched for a romantic relationship with James. It was a relationship she fully wanted, without anyone pressing or guilting her to get into. She organically liked him from the start and always felt comfortable expressing her emotions (whether they pertained to him or anything else in her life).

He was someone who respected both the human and hero side of Kara, lifting her up at Catco and on the sidelines of Supergirl. And as Clark’s best friend, he already had experience in helping and caring for Kryptonians with dual identities. So Kara was free to just be herself with James from the very start.

He was her first real love, and I think we all know how important those are in real life and in fiction.

No one is perfect, especially someone who’s fresh out of a relationship, and maybe the bar should be higher for someone as amazing as Kara Zor-El. But when you look at who James was as a character in season 1 and then compare him to the other men the CW has thrown at Kara, it’s easy for me to feel nostalgic for what Karolsen was and could’ve been. I hope that helped!💙

#i know i focused on the bigger picture #and not just specifically on the lucy stuff #but i still hope it helped Anon💙#and if you're still not into james that's totally valid too #karolsen #supergirl analysis #asks

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cherryeol04 · 4 years

Text

Dreams Come True

Genre: Humor, Fairy tale, romance ? Pairing: JackGyeom Word Count: 2.6K Summary: Yugyeom and BamBam sneak out for a little late night parting.

Yugyeom sighed as he turned from his desk, looking at BamBam from across the room. The other was smiling so widely at him, eyes wide and innocent as if he hadn’t just asked BamBam to commit such a sin as sneaking out of their houses and going to a club. “No.”

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! There’s gonna music, dancing, and hot guys. You like all three of those things.” BamBam huffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Besides, you could dress up too.” He offered, catching Yugyeom’s attention. The thought of dressing up was very tempting but it wasn’t something Yugyeom was entirely sure was a good idea. He had never gone out in public and let others see just how pretty he could be. And here was BamBam suggesting that he go out to a club that would surely be packed with at least 50 strangers.

“I don’t know BamBam.”

“Okay, well how about you change there? The bathrooms are super nice for a club, surprisingly. It’ll be fine! I would never take you someplace where you would get like double your daily whipping or anything.” BamBam waves his hand and Yugyeom winced at the comment. He knew BamBam didn’t mean anything bad by it, but it still hurt. It was just too real of a statement.

“Bam -“

“Please?” BamBam practically pleader, voice raising a pitch higher than what Yugyeom was used to.

“Okay fine. Let me pack my clothes.” Getting up, Yugyeom grabbed his bag and opened it as he made his way to his closet. The clothes he wanted to wear were all the way in the back, safe and hidden from sight. He didn’t have many, but he had enough. A soft, baby blue crop top was selected and paired with his black pleated skirt - Yugyeom’s favorite. He didn’t really have any nice shoes to go with it, so he grabbed whatever he thought might look nice and just prayed he wasn’t going to end up looking stupid.

Stuffing the clothes in his bag, he closed his closet and turned to face BamBam only to be pelted in the face by a stick.

Where did he get a stick from?!

“Yugyeom, you ready?”

“You’re supposed to throw sticks at windows to get their attention, not people’s heads!” Yugyeom complained.

“Same difference.” The nonchalant shrug had Yugyeom pouting and he shook his head.

“Rude. But I’m ready, let’s get going.” His eyes followed as BamBam moved to his window and opened it. He raised a brow in question and BamBam snorted.

“We’re going clubbing, do really think I want to explain that to your parents?”

He made a fair point. Nodding, he walked over and watched carefully as BamBam snuck out first, grabbing the siding and rain gutters as support as he scaled down from the second story. Nervously, Yugyeom slipped out as well and not so gracefully flailed to grab things as he all but fell from his window. The good thing was, he didn’t break anything. He was just very, very sore.

“A spider monkey, you are not.” BamBam laughed.

“Ahaha. So funny.” The sarcasm ever-present as he slowly stood up. “Lead the way, Edward.”

BamBam rolled his eyes and started walking over to the bike parked by the mailbox. "Your chariot awaits, princess." Mounting the bike - or rather, a very old and rusted looking two-seater moped - and looked over at Yugyeom, waiting for him. "Well?"

"That's a death trap, Bam." Yugyeom frowned as he approached cautiously, eyeing the piece of machinery.

"It is not! Use your imagination, you ungrateful brat! It's better than walking!" BamBam gave an indignant huff, arms crossing over his chest as he waited for the other.

"Why are we still friends?" Yugyeom asked and frowned.

"Because I'm amazing. Now get in!"

"In? Don't you mean on?"

"Nope." BamBam threw Yugyeom a goofy smile as he started the moped. Yugyeom gave a heavy sigh, unable to resist his fate. Climbing onto the back of the moped, he made himself comfy in the second seat, arms barely wrapping around BamBam as the other pushed the kickstand up and started down the road. Yugyeom truly wondered why he had agreed to this, but a part of him was looking forward to it. It had been a while since they had last gone out and did anything together and even then it was pretty tame compared to them sneaking out of his own house to go to a club. Yugyeom was living on the wild side today. The drive to the club wasn't particularly lengthy, though they did make a pit stop at a gas station a block from the club so Yugyeom could change. BamBam claimed it was because they wouldn't let him in with the current casual clothes he was wearing, but Yugyeom was almost sure the other was lying. Why? He didn't know, but he just had a gut feeling. It was pretty embarrassing to walk into the gas station dressed as a boy and to walk out dressed as a girl and feeling absolutely beautiful. He was thankful no one commented on his attire, though he did receive a few looks - none of which were in disgust - that sent shivers down his spine and he rushed out towards BamBam and got back on the moped, and they headed off to the club.

The line for the club wrapped around the building practically. It was one of the more popular gay clubs they had in the city, nestled near the heart and surrounded by a very large and positive gay community. Yugyeom never failed to feel safe when he was there, but being there was few and far between anymore. He was mostly limited to the areas surrounding downtown. Small little communities that sometimes were accepting and other times weren't. The one he was apart of was far from accepting and one of the many reasons he did his best to hide who he truly was from them.

BamBam managed to find a parking spot and after making sure everything was turned off, and Yugyeom assuring him that no one would want to steal his rust bucket piece of trash moped, they headed to the front. They were greeted with a lot of groans and complaints from people who were standing in line and the lord only knows how long they have been there, waiting for this chance to get inside. But for BamBam, that was nothing as he waltzed right up to the scary-looking bouncer who had two eye moles right above his eye and was actually very handsome looking. Though Yugyeom was far more intimidated by him than attracted.

"Hey Beommie!"

"That's hyung to you, brat." the male said and BamBam rolled his eyes.

"Hey there Beommie hyung. Better?" he asked and smirked. "Anyway, Yugyeom and I would like to get in please."

"IDs." the male said and held out his hand. Yugyeom's eyes widened and he glanced at BamBam nervously, hand moving to shyly grip at his wrist.

"Bam, I don't think-"

"It's cool dude." BamBam said and smiled at Yugyeom. "I got this." he assured him. Reaching down, he unzipped his partially opened bag fully and reached in with both hands. Carefully, he removed a small kitten who seemed to be very upset that it was woken, looking around with narrowed eyes. How long had that cat been in his bag?? Yugyeom was actually very worried for the cat as BamBam held it out. "She has no name, but I found her wandering around my neighborhood. Treat her well, hyung."

The male raised a brow, staring for only a moment at the cat before taking her from BamBam's grip and pulling her close to his chest, stroking her head. "Precious little baby. Don't you worry, you're going to love living with me and my other cats." he said with a grin. Shifting on his feet, he moved and motioned for the two to go inside. Smiling, BamBam grabbed Yugyeom's hand and dragged him inside, and immediately they were overcome with a sweltering heat that only a packed club could have. The music was loud, bass throbbing, and bodies were moving. Through the flashing blue and red lights, Yugyeom could see people standing at the various bars set up and standing tables near the sides of the rooms. The middle was filled with people, grinding and dancing to the beat of the music. Yugyeom was honestly surprised to see others there, wearing clothes similar to his. Some were clearly men, but others were questionable, with curves that Yugyeom didn't think a male body could even possess. And yet it was staring him right in the face. It certainly did help to qualm his anxiety about being in public and dressed the way he was.

"Alright my friend." BamBam grinned as he stared at the other. "This is where we part ways. But keep your phone on you and check it, cause we need to leave and be home by midnight." he said. Patting Yugyeom's shoulder, he walked forward and disappeared into the crowd of dancers, leaving Yugyeom to fend for himself. It took nearly a minute before Yugyeom finally descended into the crowd. He wasn't sure where he was going or what he was going to do, but he was going to figure something out. If anything, he was at least going to dance - a passion he had for as long as he could remember.

Hours passed, or what seemed like hours and maybe Yugyeom had one too many drinks. And maybe he was dancing slightly inappropriately with a man named Jackson, but he was having fun. Though fun seemed to come in the form of stumbling over his own feet and clinging to the other male while laughing his ass off.

“Easy there, Princess.” The pet name had Yugyeom flushing, or maybe it was just all the alcohol in his system - he couldn’t be too sure. “I think it’s time for you to take a break.”

“No!” Yugyeom whined, drawing out the ‘o’ for as long as he could. “I don’t wanna!” He pouted, standing as straight as he possibly could and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t be like that cutie.” Jackson chuckles, slipping his arm around Yugyeom’s waist, fingers gently stroking the bare skin that was exposed. With a gentle push, he guided the other towards the bar so they could sit, but before they even got halfway there, someone approached them and took Yugyeom’s hand, pulling him away from Jackson’s grasp.

“Come on! We have to go!” BamBam called as he dragged his stumbling friend away from the hunk he had been dancing with.

“Go where?!?” Yugyeom whined louder than last time.

“Home!”

Yugyeom frowned and huffed softly. He yanked his hand from BamBam, causing the other to stop. “Hang on. Gotta...” he trailed off bent over to take off his shoe. “Stupid cup.” He muttered to himself and kicked the shoe away before taking BamBam’s hand once more and following him outside.

“Hurry! We got get home before midnight! My mom will kill me if she knew I took her bike.” BamBam practically three Yugyeom onto the moped outside and climbed on after him. After a minute of fumbling to find his keys, he managed to start the bike and started off towards home.

———

Mornings were always horrible. Mornings when hungover were even worse and Yugyeom was absolutely regretting letting BamBam talk him into going to the club last night. Despite the fact that he had fun, the pain in his head was just a bit too much for him to even bare at the moment. His stomach did flips as he slowly pushed himself up in bed, eyes scanning his - thankfully - dark room and noted that he really needed to pick up his clothes and hide them before one of his parents came to wake him up. But the simple act of just breathing hurt and he wondered if maybe he could survive whatever tirade his parents would have if they saw women's clothing on his floor. Probably not but his body was refusing to do anything at the moment, so he flopped back down, curling up into a small ball as he turned to face his nightstand. Spotting his phone, he reached out and grabbed it, checking what notifications he had - which turned out to be a bad idea because the brightness was turned to 100%.

Groaning as the pain surged in his head, he quickly fumbled to turn the brightness down all the way so he could comfortably stare at his phone without feeling like his head was going to explode. He had several drunken texts from BamBam and three texts from an unknown number, which confused him. Had he given his number out to someone while at the club? That wasn't something he would usually do. He had an issue with giving his number out just to his friend so he highly doubted he would give his number to someone else. But that was Yugyeom when he was sober. There was no telling what drunk Yugyeom would do.

Unlocking his phone, he pulled up his messages, quickly opening the unknown number one and read it.

Hey, this is Jackson. We met last night at the club. I got your number from BamBam, who I got his number from my buddy Jaebeom. Hope that's okay. Anyway, you kinda left your shoe at the club last night, you were pretty drunk. I have it and I was hoping to return it to you.

Yugyeom read the texts three times, trying to make sense of the jumbled words - groaning loudly when thinking increased the pain in his head. Never again was he drinking! Rubbing his forehead for a moment, he let out a shaky breath and started typing back.

Thanks. Uh, we can meet somewhere in a few hours. Need to get over this hangover first.

The response was almost instant and Yugyeom wondered if the other had been sitting there waiting for him to reply.

Oof. I feel that, you were pretty drunk last night, princess.

Yugyeom could feel his cheeks heating up at the pet name and familiar happiness that he had felt last night came surging back into his gut.

I can tell and I regret it.

Don't regret it. You were so cute stumbling over you feet while trying to dance. Made me want to wrap you up tightly in a hug.

My hero! So, if I'm a princess, that means your my Prince Charming, right?

Well I did hear something about you needing to be home before midnight when you were running off with your friend. And I have your shoe. I think Cinderella is probably the better name for you.

Yugyeom blinked, head cocking to the side as he stared the phone. A soft chuckle left him as he did his best to think back on the night before. It was pretty funny considering that even BamBam had been treating him like a princess, calling his moped a chariot. He was a complete idiot and he had waved it off, but now that he was thinking about it, it was almost like he was in a weird version of the story of Cinderella. Maybe he could find his own happy ending.

I'd rather stick to Princess if you don't mind.

Princess it is then. Text me later when you're feeling better and we can meet up.

Yugyeom smiled softly, sending a quick text back at he would and laid his phone down on the nightstand once more. Sighing contently, he nuzzled his face into his pillows as his eyes fluttered closed. A little nap to help his hangover and then he would meet up with his Prince Charming. Maybe going to the club hadn't been a bad idea after all.

#got7 #jackgyeom #yugyeom #bambam #jackson #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfics #got7 imagines #got7 imagine #jackgyeom fanfic #jackgyeom imagine #humor #fairy tale #based off of cinderella

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waywardsuns · 6 years

Text

The Rule

A/N: this is my first jack x reader fic, so please give it some love. I’m also kind of sorta working on a part 3 to Don’t Tell Anyone. We’ll see how it turns out. My ask box is open, so please feel free to send me requests!

Word Count: 2,4 k

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jack Kline, Reader (Winchester sister)

Warnings: mild cutesy/sexy things (just enough to get the blood boiling)

“Burgers tonight?” Dean asked. He sat at the motel room table and sipped on a beer as he nursed the large bruise on his cheek with an ice pack. He kicked his feet up on the table and leaned back. He groaned a little when he stretched and grabbed his ribs. “God, I hate werewolves,” he muttered.

“Mhmm yeah,” Sam said. He didn’t look up from his phone. Jules had had some trouble with a hunt she had gone on and was getting advice from Sam on how to find a ghoul. Y/N was so proud of him, and how he was as a leader. Dean was just relishing time out of the bunker because he didn’t like all of the people from Apocalypse world using it at a command center. She had to say she agreed. They were all nice, but… that was home and they weren’t exactly family. The Winchester’s were just prone to finding strays. And they were definitely foster fails.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Aw come on, I’m so sick of burgers. Let’s find something else.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, okay. Like what?”

“Well, I thought I saw a Chick-fil-a on our way in…” she sang.

Sam locked the screen of his phone. “No, yeah. She’s right, that’s better.” He dropped his phone on the table next to Dean and grabbed his own beer out of the fridge.

Dean nodded and pulled his wallet out and dropped thirty bucks on the table. “Get me something spicy.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Whatever. Keys?” Y/N made a grabby motion with her hand.

He held them just out of her reach with two fingers. “Do not crash my fucking car.”

Y/N threw her hands up and looked at Sam for support. “You were the one to teach me how to drive. If I crash, you’re responsible.” She leaned across the table and snatched the Impala’s keys before he could yank them back again. “Hey Jack, you wanna come?”

Jack looked up from the book he was reading on one of the beds. He’d always liked learning about popular culture, so it was obvious that she would give him the Harry Potter books to read. Y/N and Sam pitched in to buy the whole set, on the premise that you all could share it if one of you wanted to reread one of the books. He dog-eared a page in The Goblet of Fire and started tying his shoelaces. “Sure. What’s Chick-fil-a?”

She grabbed his jacket and tossed it to him. “Uh, I guess it’s like church, but they sell chicken.”

“That’s very accurate,” Sam chuckled.

“Hey,” Dean called as she reached for the door. “Will you get me a Dr. Pepper? Please.”

Sam turned his head and smiled. “Me too.”

“Sure.” She grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him out of the door before her brothers could make any more special requests.

As Y/N started the car and pulled onto the street she reached for Jack’s hand. “Sorry if you were reading your book, I just really wanted to spend some time with you without Sam and Dean there.”

Jack squeezed her hand and brought it up to his mouth to place a kiss on her knuckles. “No, I’m glad you did. It’s hard being around them with you.”

As she slowed down to stop at a red light she leaned over to kiss him. He slid a hand over her knee. Jack was especially good at keeping boundaries, always making sure that she was okay with anything he did. She took his hand and guided it higher up on her thigh, because she on the other hand, probably would have been okay with no boundaries. Jack had just slid his tongue across her bottom lip eliciting a sigh from her when a honk that came from behind them forced them to jump apart to opposite sides of the car.

“Shit,” Y/N stepped on the gas and peeled away from the now green light. For the rest of the drive, Jack kept her right hand firmly clasped in his, every now and then rubbing his thumb over hers. Though the gesture was nice, Y/N desperately wanted that hand to be somewhere else on her body.

The line was five cars deep when they got there and it gave them time to talk about the important things: Harry Potter. It passed the time quick, they were in the middle of an argument about which was the best book, up to where Jack was when she had to pause to order.

As she was relaying the order she could feel Jack’s lips where her neck met her shoulder; her sweet spot. She struggled to keep her voice level as she thanked the cashier and she pulled up.

“What are you doing?” She giggled. Instead of pushing him away, Y/N grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer. It was so uncharacteristic of Jack to initiate something like that, especially in public, with car windows that had virtually no tint on them.

“Sorry,” he murmured against her neck. Ah fuck.

“No, don’t be sorry. I was just wondering.” He had moved away far enough that she could look in his eyes. “Jack, you can do whatever you want to me,” she whispered. And she meant it. She didn’t know why she said it in the front seat of her brother’s car, but she had meant every word.

Jack kissed her slow and deep. It made Y/N feel like her body was sinking into the leather bench. Her stomach dropped to her curling toes as he ran his long fingers up her thigh to the waistband of her jeans and then back down to her knee. God, he was teasing her. The worst part was having to pull herself back to reality to make sure she kept a tight foot on the brake and to move up in line every so often.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek as she handed the cashier the cash who gave her a sweet smile in return.

“You two are cute,” she said as she handed out the drinks and food.

“Thanks,” Y/N said hesitantly. And she realized this was the first time that she and Jack had ever gone out together as a couple. Most of their time was spent alone in one of their rooms, late at night so no one would catch them. They’d never had the luxury of going out because someone–Sam, Dean, or Cas–was always with them.

She pulled out of the drive-thru and into a close parking spot before throwing the car into park and sliding across the bench seat, closer to Jack.

He ran his thumb down her jaw as he kissed her. In no time, she had thrown her leg over his and straddled him, running her fingers through his soft hair. Jack moaned as she dragged her nails along the back of his neck, and she could feel his cock twitch with interest beneath her. He dragged his tongue across her bottom lip and every nerve in Y/N body tingled. Jack gripped her ass and pulled her tight against him so their chests pressed together and between the thin t-shirts and jackets she could feel his heart pounding – or maybe it was hers. She fought against every urge in her body that told her to take this to the back-seat, only to pull her lips away and press their foreheads together. They both were panting and grabbing at each other’s clothes, anything to get closer to one another.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured.

Jack chuckled lightly. He rubbed the tops of her thighs which sent tingles straight to her core. “Don’t apologize for that.” He leaned in to kiss Y/N again but she slid off his lap and out of the way of those soft, soft lips…

“No, I’m just sorry that I got us both worked up. If we don’t get this food back to Sam and Dean, they’re going to call and wonder where we are.”

Jack sighed disappointedly and pulled on the legs of his jeans, obviously trying to relieve some of the tightness and adjust himself. Y/N tore her gaze away from the bulge in his pants and began to crack her knuckles. She put the car in drive and peeled out of the parking lot.

“It’s just–” she shook her head, “they can’t know. They’d kill us both.”

“Stop apologizing,” Jack said. “I know they can’t know. Don’t worry about it.”

‘God, he was so fucking sweet.’ She thought to herself. He just wanted her to be happy. She knew he didn’t actually care if Sam and Dean knew about whatever this was between them. Actually, he’d probably be more relieved if they did know. But Jack also understood how overprotective they could be.

Y/N rubbed a hand across her face. She could still smell Jack from across the bench; his shampoo, his deodorant, everything that was Jack and it was stuck in her nose, intoxicating her. She reached down and cranked the handle to roll the window down. The fall air whipped at her cheeks and cooled her down instantly, and any smell of Jack escaped through the window into the night.

“All I want to do is rip your clothes off and throw you in the back seat,” she growled. “And it doesn’t even bother me that Sam and Dean have both used it as their personal ‘conjugal trailer’. I just want you.” She peeked at him out of the corner of her eyes, wondering if she had gone too far. It had to be as miserable for him as it was for her. But Jack was staring out of the window on his side, smiling.

“We might just have to break our rule.” Jack shrugged. Y/N was watching the headlights bounce over the road but she could feel Jack watching for her reaction. Y/N’s body got hot all over again. She hummed in approval.

The rule he was speaking of was something they made up over hushed tones in her bedroom one night that seemed ages ago. One of the many nights they gathered in her room and watched movies and kissed until their lips were throbbing and they ached to touch each other. Huddled under her covers, they promised they’d keep things between them under wraps, that meant, they’d never do anything with the boys home. And the implication that they should have sex with Cas and Sam and Dean around, the latter two sleeping in rooms just down the hall was both frightening and exciting.

Y/N pulled into the parking lot and turned the car off. There were so many things that she wanted to say to Jack before they got out of the car; before they had to pretend that nothing was going on in front of Sam and Dean again. The words were sweet on her tongue and Jack lapped them up. She didn’t have to say anything, he just knew.

“Dude, I’m starving. Where the fuck are they?” Dean asked Sam for the fourth time. His hands were on his hips and he paced the length of the room. “I’m gonna start eating the fucking walls.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s dramatics and let him complain. He continued scrolling around through small-town newspapers and obituaries looking for cases to dole out to the hunters living at the Bunker. Dean crossed behind him and pressed his forehead to the window like a child waiting for his parents return after a night out.

“Thank god,” he sighed. “They’re pulling in.” He continued to hold the curtains open just far enough so he could see. Just as he was about to turn his head, and close the curtains, he froze.

“Oh,” he softly mumbled.

Sam scoffed. “‘Oh’ what, Dean? Did you spot the wrong black ‘67 Impala?”

“They’re kissing,” he said, disgustedly.

Sam couldn’t have heard that right. He whipped his head around and sure enough, Dean was still staring out the window like a peeping Tom, making sure that only his head was visible through the dingy curtains. Sam jumped up and ripped one side of them out of Dean’s hands.

A few doors down parked–Jesus–right under a light, was Y/N and Jack. If it hadn’t been his little sister and the son of the devil in the front seat of that car, he might have found it a little endearing, like ‘aw, young kids in love’ or whatever. She had her hand wrapped firmed around the back of his neck, and well, he couldn’t even see where Jack’s hands were, and they were clearly tonguing each other.

Dean dropped the curtain. “When did that happen?”

Sam pulled his eyes away in shock. “I don’t know. They seemed close but I thought they were just friends. Just happy to have someone their own age around, you know?”

“Oh yeah, they’re real happy alright.”

Dean stole another glance. “Aw, shit.” he yanked the curtains closed so hard that he nearly broke the rod. “They’re coming inside.”

“What do we do?!” Sam asked.

Dean looked around the room frantically before pushing Sam’s chest. “Sit back down. We’re clearly not supposed to know, so act like it.” He moved back over to sit across from Sam at the table. He grabbed his beer and took a large swig.

Sam went to do the same when his breath caught in his throat. “Dean, don’t they usually sleep in the same bed on hunts?”

Dean choked and sputtered on his beer. It dribbled down his chin and he wiped at it hastily as the door opened. They came in laughing about something that Sam didn’t know what was in reference to; something to do with what the cashier at Chick-fil-a said to them. Jack set the food down in the middle of the table and Y/N plopped the two Dr. Peppers in a drink holder down next to it. She pulled one out and set it in front of Dean, and then pulled the other out and fitted her lips around the straw and took a quick sip before putting it in front of Sam.

Sam stared at the straw that had just been in Y/N’s mouth. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him in the slightest. But now that he knew that Jack’s tongue had been in her mouth not five minutes ago–

He shoved the styrofoam cup back towards her. “You can have it,” he said quickly.

Dean snorted and Sam threw him a glare. Luckily, Y/N didn’t pay him any mind. “Thanks, Sammy.”

#jack kline #jack kline x reader #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #castiel #Misha Collins #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #SPN #spn fic #SISTER WINCHESTER #winsister #sister Winchester imagines #sister!winchester

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illfoandillfie · 6 years

Text

Quiet In The Library

Pairing: (70s) Roger x Fem Reader

Summery: Roger visits Y/N at work.

Warnings: Dom!Roger, Public sex, oral (m receiving and f receiving), exhibitionism

Words: 2535

A/N: I’m a librarian. I’m a bottom for 70s Rog. Sue me.  #bottomrights

He couldn’t be here. You’d only seen him briefly out of the corner of your eye, maybe you’d made a mistake? Please God, let you have made a mistake. Let it be literally anyone else, even the patron with the bad breath. Him you could handle. Christ, you specifically hadn’t told anyone in the band where you worked because you knew he’d pull this shit. You liked Roger, he was a sweet guy and a great shag, but the last thing you wanted was him to be here in your library. Partly because you knew he’d take the piss for your dowdy workwear, partly because you knew this would spark some sort of sexy librarian fantasy for him that not even the most unattractive uniform could dampen. Not that you hadn’t had those fantasies yourself, but if you were both here thinking about it the chance of you being fired for inappropriate conduct was much higher. Shit now you were thinking about it. You had to clench your thighs together and silently thanked god Roger couldn’t see your legs under your desk.

You glanced up from your work, praying it wasn’t Roger you’d seen, only to have your fears confirmed. Roger gave you a subtle wink as he walked over to the card catalogue and began pretending to search for something. You stood up from your desk and walked over to him, hoping that if you cut off whatever game he was playing, he’d leave you alone.   “Good afternoon sir is there anything I can help you with?” you said in your most professional voice. Roger just grinned back at you.  “Are you looking for a particular book?” you glanced around to make sure none of your co-workers were within earshot, “Perhaps you just got lost trying to find the exit?”  “Oh, no, I’m right where I wanna be,” He looked you up and down taking in every inch of your uniform – the bland white blouse, the knee length brown skirt, the sensible shoes. You tried to ignore the way he cocked his eyebrow at you and the growing pit in your stomach.  “What the fuck are you doing here Taylor?” you hissed. “That’s a bit rude. What happened to calling me sir?”  If you hadn’t been standing in the middle of a library you could have screamed. You were about to tell Roger to go fuck himself when you noticed your boss looking your way and you slipped back into customer service mode, “Well, sir, if you do require help locating any resources please don’t hesitate to ask.” With that you turned around, work appropriate ponytail bouncing, and grabbed the nearest trolley of returns, pushing it towards the back of the library. 

It was midday on a Tuesday, so the library wasn’t overly busy, thankfully. Most patrons were towards the front of the library anyway, looking through the fiction shelves or else playing with the microfiche. You specifically headed towards the non-fiction shelves where there was less chance of being overheard; if you were going to tell Roger to fuck off you couldn’t risk your boss hearing. You turned down an empty row of shelves – 570s, Biology – put the brakes on your trolley and slowly let out the breath you’d been holding. You knew Roger would follow you – you had felt his eyes on your bum as you walked away from him. You shook your head trying to get rid of the entirely inappropriate ideas you were suddenly having. About ten seconds later Roger joined you. You crossed your arms, trying to look as threatening as possible and waited for him to be close enough to hear you. “I’ll ask you again. What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find out this is where I work?” you were whisper yelling, but Roger just seemed to find you amusing judging by his stupid fucking smile. “First of all, that’s not a very polite way to speak to a patron. Secondly, Bri let slip.”  “How the fuck did he find out?”  Roger shrugged, “Didn’t ask. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me though.” He was close enough to grasp the material of your skirt and begin to slowly drag it up. “The whole sexy librarian thing really works for you by the way.”   You rolled your eyes, trying not to let on how much his words affected you, but you could feel the blush creeping up your neck and you hadn’t made a move to stop his roaming hands. "Roger we both know these are literally the least sexy clothes I own.” He laughed quietly, continuing his quest to expose as much of your legs as possible while also running the fingers on his other hand up and down your side, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, “and that’s not the point.”  “What is the point then?” He’d finally succeeded in lifting your skirt high enough that he could trace the outline of your pussy through your already damp underwear.  You clutched at his shoulders for support, catching some of his hair between your fingers. “The point,” Your voice was much breathier than before, “The point is that I’m at work and you shouldn’t be here,”   “I thought we we’re having fun.” He circled your clit with his thumb. You dropped your head against his shoulder as you felt yourself getting close, biting your lip to keep quiet. Suddenly he withdrew his hand, “But if you want me to go I will.”   “You complete and utter bastard,” “Think I preferred it when you called me sir." He leaned into your ear as he spoke, his voice low and rough, and his words hit you like a lightning bolt, “You want me to stay?” “Yes sir,” it was almost too quiet to hear, but it was enough for Roger.  “Christ, you make it so easy,” His fingers returned to under your skirt but this time they dipped beneath your underpants as well. Light teasing touches around your clit that were nowhere near enough. “I’ve barely done anything and you’re completely soaked for me, and y’know why?”  You shook your head.   Roger held your chin and tilted your face up so he could look you in the eyes, “It’s cos you’re a slut.”   Your whine was muffled as Roger covered your mouth with his hand.   “Uh uh uh, gotta be quiet in the library. Shouldn't have to tell you that.” Roger’s other hand was still teasing your pussy, slinding his fingers through your wetness and around your clit, never giving you quite enough. You closed your eyes trying not to whimper into the hand that still covered your mouth.  “Y’know seeing you like this, in your uniform, practically begging for me to make you cum, its driving me fucking wild. You’re such a needy slut. Got me so hard right now, there’s no way I could leave without someone noticing,” He pulled his hands away from your body wiping his wet fingers on the inside of your thigh “Think I’m gonna need that pretty mouth of yours to help me. If you’re a good girl and keep quiet I’ll let you cum.” You dropped to the carpet, desperate to please. 

You slid your hand up the inside of Roger's leg, eventually landing on the outline of his cock, and began stroking him over his jeans, teasing him the way he’d teased you, until you felt him grab the base of your ponytail in warning. You looked up at him innocently and bit your bottom lip as you undid his belt and fly, pushing his pants down until his cock sprang free. You couldn’t quite hear him but you were pretty sure he muttered the word ‘Christ’ as he watched you lick a line up the underside of his shaft, before taking his tip into your mouth. You lowered your eyes and bobbed up and down, adjusting to his size, your hand wrapped around his base. Roger’s hand was tangled in your hair and his breath was ragged as you licked around his tip, before taking him back into your mouth as far as you could manage without gagging. The fear that someone was going to overhear you was constantly in the back of your mind, making your heart beat faster, but Roger was letting you control the pace which made you less worried. Suddenly you heard a noise that made you pause. You pulled off of Roger and looked up at him panicked when you realised it was someone in the row next to yours. Roger held a finger to his lips, signalling you to stay quiet, and pushed you back down onto him.  Your eyes were wide with worry as you continued to bob your head, watching Roger for any sign that the person was getting closer, but you had to admit it was a huge turn on. Roger certainly seemed to agree. He kept one eye on the person in the next row and one on you as he snapped his hips up, pushing himself further into you and making you gag. Every time you let a noise escape, he’d tug on your hair, another warning to control yourself. You could see he had his lip between his teeth in an effort to muffle his own gasps and whines.

Eventually you heard muffled footsteps retreating as the person in the next row left, Roger pulled you from him and held you by the ponytail as he leaned down and growled into your ear.  “You better hope they left because they found what they were looking for. That they didn’t notice you being a slut and went to find your boss. I’m gonna fuck your mouth for real now, and you’re gonna swallow all my cum like a good girl, isn’t that right?”   You nodded, afraid that anything you said would be too loud. Roger slammed his cock back into your mouth, using his grip on your ponytail to push you down onto him before pulling you back up again rapidly. You were a gagging, whimpering mess. Saliva dibbled from the corners of your mouth, your hair was falling out of the neat ponytail it had starting in, and your eyes filled with tears causing your makeup to run. Roger kept control of you, treating you like nothing more hole for him to use. His grip on your hair got tighter as he got closer to his release, causing you to moan around his cock.   “Taking me so well” he said softly as he pushed you down once more and held you there as his orgasm hit, his cum sliding down your throat and coating your tongue. Your chest was burning when he finally pulled you off, letting you drop to the floor, heaving for air.  

Roger gave you a minute to catch your breath and wipe your chin while he tucked himself back into his jeans, before hauling you back up to your feet.  “Show me,”  You stuck out your clean tongue. “Good girl.” He wiped the remaining tears from your eyes before continuing, “Think you deserve to cum?”  “Please sir, I was good.”  “I don’t know. I told you to be quiet but you didn’t do a very good job. Could have got us caught. But maybe you would have liked that.”  “That’s not fair sir, you made me gag! I would have been quiet but you made me gag.” You kept your voice as quiet as possible but you felt ready to throw a tantrum at the injustice of his suggestion.   “You’re sounding like a bit of a whiny brat right now.”  “Please! You said I took you so well and I was a good girl and I swallowed and I need to cum so bad please.”  “I do like it when you beg.”  You weren’t sure whether or not that meant Roger was going to give in, until he lifted you up to sit on top of the trolley and pushed your legs apart. He bunched your skirt up at your waist so you could watch him pull your underpants down to your ankles. He didn’t waste any time before he had two fingers running between your folds.  “If I hear a single noise from you, I will stop.”  “Yes sir, thank you sir.”  His fingers, once again soaked from how wet you were, pushed inside you at the same time he bent down and licked a line up your slit. You had to cover your own mouth to stop any noise escaping as his fingers increased their pace and he began lapping at your clit. He was going wild, eating you out like it was the last thing he’d ever do, and you couldn’t look away. There was something about seeing him between your legs, here where you worked, that was so insanely erotic. Roger’s eyes caught yours and you had to bite down on your knuckles to stop from moaning. You could feel him smirking against you as your free hand landed on the back of his head, pushing him into you. You could feel the pit in your stomach tighten with every swipe of his tongue and pump of his fingers, hitting the perfect spot and pushing you closer to your edge. His lips latched on to your clit and sucked. Your toes curled and it took all your energy not to scream around your knuckles. Roger continued his ministrations as you rode out the orgasm.  

“Fuck” you whispered in between deep breaths, “I can’t believe we just did that.”  Roger chuckled softly as he helped you back to your feet. He took your hand and examined the knuckle you’d been biting down on. “Surprised you didn’t draw blood,” You pushed his shoulder playfully before pulling your underwear back up and readjusted your skirt.   “Can’t believe I have to go back out and work now. How do I look?”  “Kinda like you just sucked dick in the back of a library”  “Fuck, Rog, how am I gonna go back out there. There’s no way to get to the bathroom without walking through the main area.”  But Roger was already on it. He licked his thumb and began rubbing at the mascara lines under your eyes and on your cheeks. He then spun you around so he could untie what was left of your ponytail, run his fingers through your hair to smooth it down and retie it.   “Sorry I can’t do more, but that should look tidy enough to get you to the bathroom where you can fix yourself up properly.”  “Thank you,” you breathed out, wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his chest. His arms came up around you and he spoke into your shoulder.  “Shit, no, I messed up your hair and makeup in the first place.” He pulled back from the hug, dropping a quick kiss to your lips, “Probably should have thought about that before I pushed you to your knees.”  “No harm done. Plus, y’know I like it when you pull my hair. I had fun”  “Good. I’m glad.” He leaned back down right next to your ear, “Next time I’m going to fuck you properly though.” 

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #queen fanfic #queen smut #my fics #this goes out to everyone who wants 70s rog to top them!#you are vaild !!#We Are Valid !!!#come and get your rights !!!#I will not stand for the bottom discrimination on this site #(i also have a squeal half written as well lmao #so look forward to that)

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hvcy · 5 years

Text

Undoubtedly Raw: Take on Lover

As I write this, it’s going to be the 3rd time I listen to the full album. To give a hint on how I reacted the first two times, let’s just say I panicked, I screamed, I cheered, just, all sorts of emotions were there.

I Forgot That You Existed: At first, before I hit play, I felt anxious. As the song progresses, I found myself just smiling. I love how she said “indifference”. It is a solid intro for an album; not a shocker but also not borderline forgettable.

It isn't love, it isn't hate, it's just indifference.

Cruel Summer: I fucking love Jack Antonoff’s robotic backtrack vocals during the verses. Before the album was released, I expect the song to be some shady or even a sassy track. I’M NOT DISAPPOINTED; I’M SHOCKED. I love the bridge so much. The bridge snaps. I would repeat the bridge a hundred times. Definitely a level higher than “Blank Space”. I was surprised by the length of the track, but it felt fitting.

And I scream, "For whatever it's worth, I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?" He looks up, grinning like a devil.

Lover: No words for this track. It took me to another dimension of pink clouds, heart-eyed emojis, slow dancing with my own lover. Funny thing is I am with my own favorite person when I first listened to this, and I was just smiling the whole time to contain all of my emotions.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever?

The Man: This track receives a massive hype before the album release, and I’m just so glad that I didn’t expect anything from this. The hook surprised me, but the overall feel of the song is not for my personal spectrum. I enjoyed the bridge but the song as a whole is not for me. Lyrically, it’s appealing and controversial to the public. Would I be happy for this to be a single? Probably. But I wouldn’t want to repeat playing the track as much as the other tracks. Just: Holy shit, she went off!

What's it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models? And it's all good if you're bad and it's okay if you're mad. If I was out flashing my dollars, I'd be a bitch, not a baller. They'd paint me out to be bad, so it's okay that I'm mad.

The Archer: The whole hype around the production spreading all over the Internet isn’t working for me. Around the time this was released as a promo single, I wasn’t myself, so it probably contributes to what I feel towards this song. As an album track, however, it fell flat. After my first listen on the whole album, this is one of the tracks I wouldn’t go back to listen to on a daily basis.

I've been the archer, I've been the prey. Who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay?

I Think He Knows: A subtle visual. I love the verses, but the chorus not so much. It felt like a commercial song, but I get how it fits to the album.

"Where we gonna go?" I think he knows.

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince: NOW THIS IS A SOLID ONE. One word: ethereal. At first, I didn’t get the political references on this one. After my first listen, I went straight to the Genius website and my fan account on Twitter to get the whole point of this song. I was amazed by the whole concept of this song; how different styles managed to fit perfectly in this almost-4-minute track. This is my most favorite track on the album. Would I want this to be a single? Probably not. Usually when I listen to tracks that have deep storylines, I would visualize a music video or just portrayals of those excellent lyrics; I’d never want to ruin that concept for this song. One thing’s for sure: I would repeat this for months.

And I'll never let you go 'cause I know this is a fight that someday we're gonna win.

Paper Rings: Production-wise, this is a shocker. But the moment the chorus went in, I immediately loved this. When I feel sappy and shit, I would still listen to this. Whenever I’m home alone, I would listen to this, without a doubt. This is not a childish song at all. I believe the song has this sort of sound is because love will make you feel that being with that person is the most important thing in the world, and no material shiny thing would even compare to that feeling.

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you're the one I want.

Cornelia Street: The secret sessioners ranked this track as their most favorite on the album prior of its release. I listen to this with my eyes closed, hands on my chest, trying to feel the words that she’s saying. When the post-bridge came in, and she said “I hope I never lose you.” that’s how it hit me. It hit me to the point that I have also a Cornelia Street in my life. I have a past relationship where I was the one who’s more attached than the other. We went to the theatre together, and after our relationship ended, I never wanted to go back to that same theatre again. We usually sit together in class during breaks, and after that I felt awkward just sitting with strangers. It’s just a feeling that you think you would never be prepared of; no matter how scared you are of the outcome, you just don’t want to go there.

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends. That's the kinda heartbreak time could never mend.

Death By A Thousand Cuts: The introduction snaps! This is not my cup of tea at all, but I enjoyed this track at least. Again, Ms. Swift, with all the bridges of the tracks! Her and Antonoff’s bridges through the years are getting more and more well-thought-out.

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust: tryna find a part of me you didn't take up. Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough, but I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts.

London Boy: A cute track. Similar thoughts with “I Think He Knows”. In the future, I hope I could also make a song about my favorite person telling everyone in the same way of appreciation Taylor exudes on this song.

They say home is where the heart is; But that's not where mine lives.

Soon You’ll Get Better: I know the background of this song prior to initial release, and I already knew this is going to be the hardest to listen to. But the lyrics of this is the most unexpected thing I’ve heard from the whole album. It feels like everyone who has a pain similar to Taylor’s can relate. Mine isn’t about family, or a specific loved one; I thought of myself. I fucking bawled my eyes out the first time I listened to this. I thought of listening to another person in my own point of view. I thought of somebody singing the song to me, telling me that I have to get better. I will be better soon. I will have a hard time repeating this song in the future, for sure.

And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you?

False God: As I was just preparing myself after the disastrous outcome brought by the previous track to me, this sexy track came in. I wasn’t ready! First song came to mind was “So it Goes” of reputation. “So it Goes” is my most favorite track on rep the first time I listened to the album. I didn’t feel the same way to “False God” because of how it played while I’m still preparing for my emotional mess. Still, it’s a sexy track. A chill and not-so-subtle one.

They all warned us about times like this. They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith, but we might just get away with it.

You Need to Calm Down: This is THE lead single. Out of the 4 songs that were released before the album release, this is the superior one. Miles far from (let’s talk about it later). Going back, this is a complete serve for all the people of our society, not just the community. Can you believe she took her legacy on a pedestal just to show her support to the LGBTQ+?

And I ain't tryna mess with your self-expression but I've learned a lesson that stressin' and obsessin' 'bout somebody else is no fun.

Afterglow: UGH. Fuck. I don’t know, man. Just listen to this track. I relate to this track so fucking much. I am that person whom I think apologizes too much, even in the small things in life. But to think of it, it’s not wrong to admit you’re wrong on a situation where you’ve both argued or misunderstood each other. Or when that person is upset because of your actions, and you can’t do anything but to suck it up and face your fears; face the reality that even you can do stupid things. This is the song that says “Hey, I know I do stuff sometimes, but I’m willing to work it out: all because of you.” FUCK THIS.

I don't wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you. I don’t wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.

ME!: I’m a very kind person, hell I love Taylor to death, but I would agree with the general public that this is the worst lead single of her legacy. This deserves to be at least a second or third single of the album, but not the one to jumpstart a highly anticipated successor of a dark era from the once America’s Sweetheart. It didn’t deserve, however, the disrespect it gets just because of its underwhelming performance on the charts.

And when we had that fight out in the rain, you ran after me and called my name. I never wanna see you walk away.

It’s Nice to Have a Friend: I personally believe you need to be in a specific mood to get along with the vibe of this track. On my initial listen, it sparked an interest to me to repeat it again afterwards, but it just stands there. Nothing interesting.

Call my bluff, call you "babe". Have my back every day; feels like home.

Daylight: Let me just say, I don’t wanna listen to other artists now that I got Taylor. Perfect ender. I would even pick this more than “Begin Again”, and *sigh* “Clean”. It’s perfect, need I say more?

I once believed love would be burning red but it's golden like daylight.

#LOVER #Taylor Swift

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orangeoctopi7 · 6 years

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OBVIOUS JOKE

@artsymeeshee @digikate813

I love the Spider-Stan AU and I finally got the time to write a little ficlet for it. Expect more to come.

What with his fascination with all things weird and paranormal, Stanford subscribed to a number of newsletters dealing with cryptozoology, urban legends, and other strange sightings. There were the big ones, of course, like Weird Science Weekly, but Ford also liked to read the smaller, often local publications. They usually reported new finding and sightings long before they made their way into the bigger publications, and they often kept track of smaller patterns the bigshots couldn’t be bothered to print.

It was in one of these smaller newsletters, Peculiar Pennsylvania, that Ford first read about the mysterious Spider Man.

The article was short, with an eyewitness account of passing what had appeared to be a normal man in an alley, until the witness turned back and saw it scuttle up the wall like a spider. It was an interesting article, to be sure, but Ford probably would have forgotten all about it if it weren’t for the fact that a similar occurrence was later reported in Ohio. And then one in Florida. Then in Tennessee. Then a few in Texas. As time went on, Ford began to notice patterns in all these accounts. Each person would describe what appeared to be a homeless man sitting in a secluded spot, usually an alley. They would pass by him without a second thought, only to hear something move behind them. When they turned, the homeless man was no longer sitting where he’d been a moment ago. H was climbing up a sheer concrete or even glass wall, too fast to be human. Another common thread was that most every witness reported losing something valuable afterwards, typically cash or jewelry.

Soon the cryptozoological community was abuzz with speculation on what this new cryptid could be. Was it human with special spider-like abilities? Was it some sort of creature that could take human form? Ford personally subscribed to the theory that it was an extra-terrestrial, observing the human race and collecting valuables to try and determine their importance.

The Spider Man’s fame grew enough to make it onto an actual news station when two muggers were found in a back alley, a rain gutter tying them to a fire escape. They claimed they had simply been trying to collect some money they were owed when their victim leapt up the wall, higher than any human should be able to, pulled the rain gutter out of its bolts, and jumped down on them, knocking them over. He had then bent the metal around them with his bare hands, dragged them to a fire escape on the other end of the alley, and twisted what was left of the gutter around one of the escape’s supports. Some people thought the two criminals had just heard the stories of the Spider Man and tried to blame the urban legend in a poor attempt to either save face or keep their real attacker out of trouble. But the cryptozoologist and paranormal researchers saw it as further evidence that there really was a Spider Man.

As the years passed, more and more reports, big and small, cropped up. Mostly they were just quick sightings here and there, but every once in a while there’d be another big story that could be tied back to the Spider Man. An arrested man disappearing out of his holding cell without a trace. A woman saved from assault when a masked stranger stepped in and fought off her assailants, then carried her straight up a glass wall to safety. A drunk driver who’d nearly hit a pedestrian, only for the would-be victim to jump straight over the truck. The reports happened all over the country, and while the cryptid’s movements could be tracked, it proved impossible to predict where it would show up next.

The Spider Man actually played a large part in Ford’s doctorate thesis. It was a prime example that new anomalies were still appearing and needed to be studied. It wasn’t all just old wives tales and overblown ancient legends. This was one of the points that ended up getting him his grant.

So, imagine his excitement when he learned that the elusive Spider Man had been sighted as nearby as Portland! His normally single-minded focus on the portal project was broken, and he practically begged Fiddleford to come with him to search the city.

McGucket remembered how his friend had combed through every weird publication he could get his hands on for more information about this mysterious cryptid during their college days. And honestly, from the state things had been in when he’d arrived at the cabin, it was clear Stanford had been spending too much time alone out here in the woods. A visit to the city would do him good.

Harder to convince was Stanford’s muse. He was less than thrilled to hear his chosen genius was distracted by another project.

“SERIOUSLY, IQ? YOU FINALLY GET THE HELP YOU NEED TO START BUILDING THE PORTAL AND THE FIRST THING YOU WANNA DO IS RUN OFF ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE?” Bill sounded completely unimpressed.

“It’s not a wild goose chase!” Ford insisted, all at once feeling like he was in the middle of his thesis defence again. “This is a well documented cryptid with hundreds of eye-witness accounts over the past ten or so years, a clearly traceable trail of sightings around North and South America, I know it’s real!”

“WHOA! EASY THERE SIXER!” Bill said defensively, “I NEVER SAID I DIDN’T BELIEVE THE THING’S REAL. IT’S REAL ALL RIGHT. BUT WHAT EXACTLY IS THE POINT OF YOU CHASING AFTER IT?”

Stanford was taken aback. True, Bill didn’t really ‘get’ a lot of human emotions and needs, but he thought his muse at least understood Ford’s thirst for knowledge and understanding. “The chance to study it, to learn more about it! Despite all the sightings, there’s still so much we don’t know! And who knows, it could bring me one step closer to my Unifying Theory of Weirdness!”

The dream triangle was still unmoved. “Y’KNOW, YOU’VE BEEN STUDYING STUFF WAY WEIRDER THAN THAT HERE IN GRAVITY FALLS FOR YEARS NOW, AND NONE OF THOSE ANOMALIES HAVE BROUGHT YOU ANYTHING BUT MORE QUESTIONS. WHAT MAKES THIS ONE DIFFERENT?”

“Well, maybe that’s just it!” Ford reasoned, “All the anomalies I’ve been studying so far have been native to the Gravity Falls area. Maybe studying something outside of Gravity Falls and comparing the differences will help me find the answer.”

Bill groaned. “YOU’RE WASTING YOUR TIME, FORDSY! YOU’LL FIND ALL THE ANSWERS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR ONCE THAT PORTAL IS FINISHED! I’M ALL YOU NEED!”

“It’s not that I doubt you.” Ford assured his muse, “This is just something that I’m personally interested in. We’ll only be gone a few days, then we’ll get right to work.”

Bill turned bright red and glared down at Ford, “FINE, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, BUT DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU WHEN YOU BITE OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW!”

Stanford couldn’t keep his last dream with his muse off his mind as they drove up to Portland. He really hoped he hadn’t offended his muse. Surely they couldn’t finish the portal project without Bill. Then they’d really be up the proverbial creek without a metaphorical paddle.

“Stanford, ya feelin’ alright?” McGucket asked, casting a sidelong glance at his friend. “You been awful quiet the whole trip.”

“Just thinking.” Ford said dismissively. “D’you think we’ll actually find it?”

“With how you attract crazy critters, I’d say there’s a high probability.”

Soon they arrived at their hotel. Ford rummaged through his travel pack while McGucket checked in. He pulled out two polaroid cameras and dozens of packs of film.

“Gonna do some sightseein’?”

Ford snorted. “Hardly. Did you know, despite all the eyewitness encounters, there’s never been a documented image of the Spider Man? We’re changing that tonight!” He pushed one of the cameras and half the film packs into Fiddleford’s arms. “Come on! I want pictures of Spider Man!”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Spiderman #No editing we die liek mne #And as such I may come back and fix things later #Spiderstan AU #Spider Stan AU #My Writing

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muddyorbsblr · 6 years

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Let’s Support MatPat However We Can

The last 24 hours have been a rollercoaster for MatPat’s community. Regardless of where you hang your online cape, I’m pretty sure you heard about it: YouTube approached The Game Theorists for the opportunity to turn on Channel Membership on their channel, and Matthew did something very considerate and thoughtful for his community before making the big decision:

He asked us first.

A lot of YouTubers don’t do that. But Matthew did. Because he wanted to make his final decision based on what would benefit the community the most. So he linked a Google Survey containing a simple three-option question: Should Channel Membership be turned on? The options? Yes, No, and I don’t care.

This is when shit started hitting the fan, because a lot of people were on the side of No. And their reasoning wasn’t as sound as I hoped it would have been. Had their reasoning been “No, because you guys already make cool content, there’s no need to try and experiment with new forms of media just stay as you are”, it probably wouldn’t be that bad. Even though improvement and evolution is always a key factor in the lifespan of anything. Regardless of whether it’s regarding someone’s personality or someone’s YouTube content.

But that wasn’t the reasoning behind the collective No of the community. The reasoning was this: On a personal level, on the individual level, it would hurt them. Because they believed that the enabling of this feature will create a rift in the community between members and non-members. All this because of the perks that they were focusing on that Matthew highlighted in his video. The most prominent feature they were all problematic over being: Members-Only Live Streams. They didn’t want that. But let me break down the logic that they were clearly not thinking through:

In a month, GTLive will stream every single weekday at 4pm PST. That’s a mostly guaranteed schedule, barring any emergencies or last minute meetings. This is available for everyone, members and non-members alike. This could be anything from a gameplay to a challenge video, but one thing’s for sure: this will never be member-exclusive. GTLive stays exactly as it is. So that’s approximately 22 streams a month, at most.

In that same month, assuming the feature is enabled, Matthew & Stephanie and possibly the rest of the GTLive crew will make at least one extra live stream, accessible only to members. This could be anything from an AMA, to a behind the scenes, to maybe some goofy ideas they wanna test out before making it accessible to the rest of the audience. Honestly it could be whatever they wanted. Same goes for the once a month members-only video that goes up.

So when you look at it this way…you’re comparing TWENTY-TWO streams and FOUR videos a month to one of each, and this is what you’re focusing on as your reason to say NO to giving other people the opportunity to support Matthew.

What is the purpose of these videos and streams and other perks in the first place? Before I get into that, let me make something perfectly clear: Matthew did not need to put those perks into his channel membership system. That was not a requirement in order for him to enable this feature. Put that in your brain. Now…the purpose of these perks are simply this: Members put in a small fee ($5) into supporting Matthew’s channel, which in turn gives him the opportunity to start making more intricate and elaborate content for us (us the community, not us the members) to enjoy. The perks are a thank you from creator to “financial supporter” for the contributions they put in, nothing more and nothing less.

But I don’t have the money to buy membership. But I want those perks as well. That’s just being greedy. The philosophy is this: You put in more contributions, you receive more rewards. But the case is not you put in nothing, you receive nothing. You receive a stream on the weekdays and a weekly theory. You receive regular and consistent content. Like I said, the perks are an extra thank you to to the members. For putting in the money to help support the channel. And I can hear your next question coming a mile away.

But Matthew said they’re doing just fine with AdSense. So they don’t have to turn on this feature, right? Did you…did you not pay attention to the video? Yes, they’re doing FINE. By fine, we mean that he’s not going to starve for the next few years if YouTube decides to change up the algorithm in favor of someone who makes the exact opposite of Matthew’s content and he suddenly loses views. However, just because he is doing fine and the channel is doing fine, it doesn’t mean that there’s NO ROOM for the channel to do better. What do I mean by this? By even just 2000 members of his community signing up for Channel Membership, that will result to $7000 going into funding for future projects, for more ARGs, for more merch, a month. The channel will do exponentially so much better and the community as a whole will benefit from just these 2000 people. And I say 7000 because 30% of the channel membership fee goes to YouTube.

So why can’t they just give us all the content they had planned as the thank you for the channel members instead of creating the divide? What divide? The divide that was created by the fans by fulfilling their own prophecy of a divide being created? Don’t pretend that Matthew is the one behind this. This was all you. And if you weren’t paying attention to literally anything I just said, pay attention to this: Those videos and streams were planned to thank the people who chose to donate their money in the name of supporting the channel.

So because I didn’t fork up the cash to support the channel, I don’t deserve a thank you? Let’s say you have a friend who saved up money to give his mother a gift for her birthday, and she thanked her son (naturally)…do you think it’s unfair that all you were able to do is witness the giving and the receiving and the thanking from afar without your friend’s mother thanking you for doing nothing? Do you think it’s unfair that your friend’s mother got a gift on her birthday when so many mothers around the world don’t? Do you see how messed up this logic is? This isn’t even the case with non-members. It’s not that exaggerated and it’s not that idiotic. Because you get your thank you every single day that they stream, for every single video they put out. Thanks for watching. Thank you for joining us. If you really think that that’s not a satisfactory amount of gratitude for the amount of support you put in, then maybe that’s not Matthew’s problem anymore. It’s yours.

Does this mean that if I don’t become a channel member, I am less of a fan? No. Absolutely not. This doesn’t make you any less of a fan. You know why? Because the support they’ve been getting via AdSense is only happening because of all of us non-members. Because of the watch hours we put in. Because of the ads that we’re forced to watch for five seconds before skipping. They’ve been doing just fine from the non-members alone. So no. Being a non-member doesn’t give you any less value as a fan just like being a member and giving the money monthly doesn’t give you any addiitonal value as a fan.

The driving force behind channel membership is essentially this: The support of a few will be beneficial to the whole. So by enabling this feature, the opportunity for bigger & better ARGs, for even better quality merch, for more merch, and for bigger projects to be tackled by Matthew and the rest of the Game Theorists crew is enabled as well. The purpose of the membership is not to create a rift from the fans between the members and the non-members. And of course it’s going to look like that in the beginning, because you’re focusing on the finer details when you should be focusing on the big picture. So allow me to describe to you the bigger picture.

What will non-members get from Matthew turning on Channel Membership? • a bigger, more elaborate, more intricate ARG in the form of a bigger merch mystery • production of more merchandize in terms of quantity of products manufactured. This means that products are probably not gonna get sold out in less than 3 days when the goods go live on the Creator Ink website • production of more merchandize in terms of variety of products. Basically, more kinds of merch. Maybe more designs for the shirts, maybe some Film Theory merch again. Maybe a phone case. Maybe a onesie for babbys. Maybe Theorist pajamas. But the point is we won’t know until it happens. • higher grade quality production of merchandize items. Self-explanatory. • potentially bigger & more elaborate projects by Matthew. Maybe he’ll get to actually conduct experiments a la Mythbusters for the sake of a theory. We’ll never know until it happens. And because y’all are voting NO, we may never know.

So now…what will channel members get from Matthew turning on Channel Membership? • Everything mentioned for the non-members • At least one members-only video per month that does not contain content regarding the main focus of the channel. This could be anything from vlogs to science experiments, to blooper reels • At least one members-only stream per month. Again, this will probably not contain content related to the main focus of the channel. So this will not be a let’s play or a challenge video. Probably. • Possibly a live stream that everyone can view, but not everyone can chat in. So a public stream with a members-only chat. I can hear your pitchforks being sharpened from here. • Merch discount codes • a badge next to your display name in the comments section as well as the live chat • a selection of emotes to be used in live chat and comments

When you look at those perks, you’ll see that they function solely as tokens of appreciation for the people who gave their money in order to support the channel and its endeavors to improve on its content for the benefit of the community as a whole. Perks are an ancillary thank you, like a gold star from a teacher when they really appreciated your work. Not every student will get it, because not every student put in the same amount of work.

Personally I had every intention of signing up for channel membership, because my philosophy has always been this: If i spend more money a day on my coffee and my food than I would in a month to support someone I absolutely and unconditionally respect, someone who makes my list of My Favorite People…then why the fuck would I not take that opportunity? And here’s the thing, it took me three days to justify sponsoring Markiplier. And one of the things I said back then was “Had this been Matthew, however, I would have signed up in a heartbeat.” And now herein lies that precise opportunity for me to sign up in a heartbeat. And that survey is taking that opportunity away from me, and from a lot of other people, one NO at a time.

Another thing that immensely pissed me off is this: People are now blaming Matthew for their mental health issues. Just recently, like just a few hours before writing this long and winded post, I saw a comment from someone who was essentially blaming Matthew for her suicidal tendencies and her chronic insomnia because she wasn’t able to get merch, or even get to participate in the final stretch of the merch mystery. And because she didn’t win, she now blames Matthew for the resulting mental health issues that attacked her during those following nights. And now she’s blaming Matthew and the channel membership discussion for her occurring anxiety attack. And this isn’t an isolated case. A lot of people are blaming Matthew and his intention to better the content of the channel and better everything he’s about to put out into the world for their mental health issues.

They’re directly mentioning Matthew and Stephanie and the rest of the GTLive crew in their tweets to tell them that this treatment of members vs non-members is unfair. And I can’t imagine the amount of negative feedback currently appearing on their notifications because people are so against the idea of thanking the people who went above and beyond what’s expected of a fan in order to support the channel.

It feels like the creator isn’t allowed to thank people anymore unless they’re thanking everyone. Even though only a small portion of that ‘everyone’ was really deserving of the extra gratitude. The mentality that ‘they put in the extra work, but we should have all the benefits’ is so toxic and so mind-numbingly idiotic that it makes me want to leave the GTLive community altogether. I mean, sure I’d still be participating by commenting on videos and tweeting along during the streams, but actually interacting with fellow members of the community? Potential hard pass right there.

I’ve seen some great members. I talk to them on a near daily basis. But I’ve also seen a much more overwhelming amount of toxic members. People who use their following to create rifts in the community because they have thousands of followers and Matthew follows them, people who go so far as to DM members of the crew why they think the feature shouldn’t push through because it’s unfair to them on a personal level, people who brag that they’re willing to spend $5 on a coffee a day, but not the same amount of money for a month to support their ‘faves’. People who twisted my words of “this is just him thanking people who gave him the extra support” and turning it into “so that means members are more special just because they pay”.

So let me make this crystal clear: I do not think that signing up for membership will make you more special in the eyes of the creator just because you paid for it. I believe that despite the membership, people are on equal footing in the eyes of the creator, regardless of the extra gratitude that members receive in the form of the channel member perks. Becoming a member does not make someone more valuable than the rest of the community, just the same as not becoming a member does not make someone less valuable than the rest of the community. Channel members should never be referred to as ‘true fans’ or ‘loyal fans’ just because we’re putting forward the cash to support our favorite creators, because as non-members, support can still be given simply by watching the video and spreading the word.

Now, if anyone wants to twist those words, and if anyone wants to accuse me of some idiotic bullshit like that girl in the group chat did a few hours ago, to Hell with you.

The purpose of the channel membership was to support Matthew in an alternative manner. We should have been trying our damnedest to support MatPat however we can; whether it be from watching the videos or signing up for the membership. But instead you all fulfilled your own prophecy of ‘this will put a rift in the community’ by acting as childish and behaving as selfishly as you all did today.

So let’s support MatPat however we can. Which at the rate we’re going, is just by watching his videos because Channel Membership doesn’t look like it’s going to happen. Because of you. Because of everyone who said no for the most selfish reasons I’ve ever seen on the Internet: Because it’s unfair to me. The NO you guys gave out for a personal level issue? That affects GTLive on a community level issue. Now that’s selfish; it’s not signing up for the membership so perks can be doled out, it’s not the desire to stand out with a shiny channel badge. True selfishness lies in the people who want to silence and incapacitate everyone else, who want to clip everyone else’s wings, just because circumstance did not favor them.

That being said, I have one last thing to say. This is my favorite type of response from people: “I can’t afford the membership right now but I voted yes so that people who want to and people who can, have that opportunity. This isn’t just for me. It’s for everyone.” You guys are the real MVPs of this community, you deserve thousands of followers, and I hope that more people follow in your example.

~ Ally P.S. On the off chance that reading this has changed your mind on your vote in the survey, kindly go back and give a Yes; you can vote more than once. You don’t have to sign up if the feature gets enabled, but you would be doing a great kindness for the people who want to support him in this manner if you do…Thanks.

#gtlive #youtube #channel memberships #sponsorships #matpat #matthew patrick #stephanie patrick #chris widin #jason parker #community not competition #rant #the game theorists #game theory #cordypat #community #toxic community

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dcarevu · 6 years

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DCAU #11: Two-Face (Part 1)

“All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative.”

We’ve made it, guys! We’ve made it past the developmental/establishment stage of Batman the Animated Series for the most part, and from here on out, the show elevates to a whole other level. Like virtually all tv shows, there will still be ups and downs, and a few bumps on the road, but it is pretty well known that not only does Two-Face mark the true start of the masterpiece that is this series, but is also one of the absolute greatest episodes.

Villain: Rupert Thorne Robin: No Writers: Randy Rogel (teleplay), Alan Burnett (story) Director: Kevin Altieri Animator: TMS Airdate: September 25, 1992 Episode Grade: A

Oh man, so what do I say about this one that hasn’t been said already? Probably not a whole lot. While not a lot of people set themselves up to look at, analyze, and write about every episode of the DCAU, doing just Batman is more common. And granted, I don’t allow myself to read any reviews of any episodes until after my posts on them are written, I am still for the most part aware of what people’s opinions are with some of these high-profile episodes. So I think the best thing to do is continue just like I intended. Not caring about necessarily writing something that people haven’t heard before, but instead just writing whatever is on my mind for reactions, and also expressing Char’s thoughts as someone who has never seen the series before. After all, most reviews of this show come from people who have seen it prior!

This is Alan Burnett’s first episode of the series, and once he and Dini were both activated, oh man. It is clear that they saw eye-to-eye with Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski, and it was a collection of the right people joining forces at just the right time. Both Dini and Burnett had worked on some pretty basic Saturday Morning Cartoons prior (along with some higher quality stuff), and writing for those types of shows must have felt like interning and doing nothing but pouring coffee for those that hold the job you truly want. They could use their creativity, sure, but knowing their visions for this show, it is apparent how stifled they must have been. Which is fine, they were still doing what they loved for a living, and getting very necessary experience. Maybe without these formative years and working on these cheesy cartoons from the 80’s, they wouldn’t have had the jobs to come up with the beautiful stories that they did. Creativity and writing is something that can get worse without practice and training, and sometimes that training truly does need to work much like it did in The Karate Kid, not being apparent until after it is completed. But while I’m not a fan of everything that Alan Burnett contributed to the DCAU, there is no denying what a valuable member to the team he was. Welcome aboard, Alan. But now let’s talk about the episode itself.

Two of the things mentioned in the series bible are as follows: the villains were to much of the time be human and have motivations, and the show was to be a noir crime drama, sometimes focusing more on everyday mobsters than colorful super villains, and not necessarily being a “monster of the week” type of show. And while Harvey Dent/Two-Face is very much a monster when it comes to appearance, this episode falls right in line with these rules. I had to think a little bit when I wrote who the villain would be for this episode, because yeah, Two-Face is a well known member of Batman’s rogues gallery, but Rupert Thorne is the real monster here. And goodness, what a cool villain he is. His voice actor, his lines, even his motivation, while not as sympathetic as Harvey’s, makes a lot of sense! He’s a mobster trying to do mobster things, and Harvey Dent is a real problem for him. But you also totally wanna see the creep get creamed by Harvey, because damn, you feel Harvey Dent’s pain tenfold. Leave the guy alone, he’s going through enough!

And throughout the episode, things just go further and further downhill for Harvey Dent, exponentially. He lashes out in public. Okay, that’s bad and gets a lot of press. But it’s nothing he can’t recover from. Then we find out it’s a recurring thing that he’s seeking professional help for, and just now getting worse. Then Rupert Thorne gets involved and severely threatens Harvey’s career as a politician. Then we have that god damn explosion, and at that point, you just know that there is no recovery, particularly as he flees the hospital, abandoning any hope for treatment. You feel the pain at the pit of your stomach as you watch, and let me tell you, even though I have seen this episode before (albeit only once), my heart was beating during certain scenes, particularly when he is talking with his psychiatrist and when he is at the “meeting” with Rupert Thorne and his goons. A couple times I heard Char gasp, and when that explosion happened, she had her mouth covered for a good while, hardly able to believe that Harvey Dent, one of Bruce Wayne’s best friends, a surprisingly clean-cut, honest politician, and someone we have seen a couple times now, is the villainous Two-Face that she has heard about before.

It’s not even just his character. It’s the fact that the episodes of this show so far have been good, but not this level. This is a serious, adult episode that I think would actually be pretty intense for children. I made a joke to Char when we were discussing the episode, and I said, “But it’s just a little kid’s cartoon!” and she responded with, “No it is not.” We deal with politics in a way that’s actually engaging. We deal with the struggle of a severe mental disorder and childhood trauma. Gosh jesus, the way this episode handles the mental disorder! Char and I both applauded it. Bruce Wayne telling Harvey how proud he is that he’s seeking mental help just warms your heart, and looking back after watching the episode (along with part 2, which has been watched, but we’ll discuss that next time), it almost brings a tear to your eye. Especially since all that could have been done was done. Harvey was getting help. His finance, who is a great character by the way, gave him all the love and support she could have. Bruce Wayne encouraged him to get better and even stepped in as Batman to try to save his friend. But sometimes with life, you can do everything right and it’s never enough. That is what makes this story a genius tragedy. Much better than what they were originally planning with the character, where they would have had him get acid thrown in his face like his traditional origin, and then develop the episodes. Him struggling with these mental problems for longer than his scars have existed feels so much more real, and adds to what makes this character so complex.

Then we have the style and animation, and it does nothing but enhance everything. Director Kevin Altieri outdid himself here. Some of the shots, including one of the most iconic images ever of his other face being revealed for a second when the lightning strikes, are simply beautiful. There were a lot of other little things like the rain on the window at night, which Char specifically noted. There was a specific close-up shot as well when Harvey was bandaged in the hospital that was extra stylized, but it standing out and being different than the other animation worked in its favor. It fit the mood so well. A different animation studio would do Part 2, which is a bit of a shame, as it didn’t end up looking nearly as good as this one, but I’m glad they blew their load on this one at the same time and made the visuals match the episode concept so well. Animation similar to some of the first episodes of the series would have killed the vibes which they were going for. It was a mini horror movie, lacking any amount of camp (something that Nothing to Fear didn’t do nearly as well). Also, TMS is very well known for being a studio of amazing quality and detail.

Something cool that Char noticed was that Grace, Dent’s fiancé, didn't touch him when it came to calming him down and forcing “Big Bad Harv” away, and it’s evident at another section of the episode that touching him in this state tends to set him off a lot more. This is a cool subtlety, and it shows that Grace is very in tune and familia with Harvey, and is definitely the closest thing to a safe-haven that he has. When he is with Grace, it gives you hope, when he is with almost anyone else, well, Char put it best, you could cut the tension with a knife. I think this is what leaves your heart beating throughout the episode, and what makes it so suspenseful. That tension. But while watching, you hope that the pressure is relieved. Instead, it ends with quite literally an explosion. We’ll see how things resolve next time.

Char’s grade: A Major firsts: Rupert Thorne, Two-Face, a two-part episode

Next time: Two-Face (Part 2)

Full episode list here!

#batman tas #batman the animated series #two-face #dc animated universe #dcau #harvey dent #rupert thorne #two face #twoface

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redvelvetreel · 6 years

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Red Velvet Reel 6.5: Cele-BRAT-ion!

[Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: WELL THEN. Now that they’ve got Swapfell squared away, time to get Undertale to toe the line.

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans) & Classic (Undertale Papyrus) & Comic (Undertale Sans)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Meeting up in a (sports) bar! Everyone talks a lot and never shuts up! (More) Stupid Fellverse posturing and antagonism! Lots of headcanons! Culture clash!

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: 1 more part left for this installment! <3 Thanks so much for sticking through this with me!! ;w;

Underswap Papyrus – Stretch Underswap Sans – Blue Underfell Paprus – Edge Underfell Sans – Red Undertale Papyrus – Classic Undertale Sans – Comic

“No.”

Edge abruptly returned to the table, gesturing over his shoulder incredulously as he stared at Red.

“Huevón!” Red slammed his fist into the table, smiling broadly. Everyone jumped, but there was a note of admiration in his voice, “Whatta bitch! Hate that guy! The fuck! Congrat-fuckin’-lations!”

“What does that mean?” Edge hummed in absentminded agreement, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms restlessly, “Así no más? They let it drop, and we win?” He didn’t wait for Red to answer, shifting with nervous energy. “Ugh, we’re so out of practice, and they’re so weird about it!”

“Rrrelax, Ñaño.” Red shrugged nonchalantly, an easy smile on his face, “Do what we do. Wait ‘n see ‘n fuck ‘em up if necessitated, yeah?”

“Yeah...” Edge didn’t look convinced, but he sighed as Stretch put an arm around his shoulders. His mouth quickly quirked into a smile as he put his arm around his husband’s waist, sounding pleased, “You were fantastic! Truly a ‘charm’ offensive!”

“BOSSASS, Stretch!” Red’s smile stretched even wider as he banged his hands down again, pointing at him approvingly. “Ya healed Pup! Goddamn! Then tell lil’ bastard to fuck off with a hug!”

“Black didn’t know what to make of that!” Edge sounded gleeful, a mischievous sparkle in his socket as he turned to Red with a smirk. He kept his arm around Stretch’s waist in an unusually public display of prolonged affection, so he must have been really impressed. “I thought he was actually going to accept out of spite!”

“Hell yeah!” Red gestured that his mind was blown, “Lil’ bastard ain’t know who he’s fuckin’ with! Stretch’s rock solid!“

Edge scoffed, “He’s soft by choice, not lack of ability- as I’ve told you hundreds of times!”

“Whatever,” Red drawled, resting his chin and looking bored, “Yer biased as fuck. Damn! Now I wanna fuck somethin’ up! Ya any good to rumble, Stretch?”

“Of course he is!” Edge looked insulted, “You think I would marry someone who wasn’t?!”

“Ah, yes,” Classic leaned back and played with the straw in his drink absently, “You two like to talk about not so good things like they are very good things, even though they absolutely are not.”

“I’m not taking any shit from you!” Edge’s demeanor snapped into something more hostile as he turned towards Classic, pulling away to point at him dramatically. “What the fuck were you thinking?! You tryin’ to get me dusted?!”

Classic’s eyes bulged out of his sockets, spitting out the mouthful of his drink on the table, “Hah?!”

Red pointedly leaned over, holding a napkin daintily as he dabbed at the spot. He cleared his throat, pitching his voice higher in obvious imitation of Classic, “Let me just-“

Blue jabbed him in the ribs hard enough Red hit the table with a bang, “Knock it off, asshole! Haven’t you had your fill of violence and arguments yet?!”

“Nope!” He answered petulantly, throwing the napkin in Blue’s face. “And you hush up, backstabber!”

“Me?!”

“Yeah!” Red gestured at the door with palpable frustration, “Ya cain’t speak ‘gainst me till after they gone! Ya tryin’ to get me killed? Yer bro’s hubby?! Yer own goddamn fuckin’ sobrino?!”

Blue blanched.

“No?!” Red sneered, turning away with disgust, “Then shut up ‘n listen fer once in yer fuckin’ life!”

“I-“ Classic gestured at himself helplessly, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about?!”

“I just told you!” Edge let out an angry huff, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s a Fellverse thing! Magic is everything to Fell! If I can’t use my magic, I’m weak! If I’m weak, I can’t protect nothing I got!”

“Yeah!” Red crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his brother with a sour expression, “Then everythin’s up fer swipin’, includin’ Honey ‘n the brat! S’when whose backin’ ya up gotta look real dread! If y’ain’t look united, then y’ain’t shit! So they don’t got not reason to hold back, ya dig?”

Classic looked almost queasy, “Black and Slim would never-“

“I don’t fuck with chance!” Edge slammed his fist into the table, looking angry, “I don’t know where they stand or what they want, so I had to make myself clear! My...” Edge glanced at Stretch, drawing a line with his finger.

“Line in the sand.” Stretch did not want to be drawn into this at all. He sat down and slid over to his old spot as unobtrusively as possible.

“Of course, now you’re helpful!” Edge still complained loudly, shaking his head. He was mostly talking to Classic, but made sure to look at Blue too, “At least wait until mi hijuepu enemies are gone before you are questioning me! And! Por el amor del Ángel, don’t ever ask me to apologize! Carever-“

“Ojo!” Red’s voice took on an oddly stern tone, “Ain’t no need t’be nasty. If they ain’t gonna help, they gonna sit pretty ‘n stay outta it, right?”

The Fell monster didn’t look the least bit abashed at all the incredulous looks. Which was maybe to be expected, but was still incredibly surreal. Red scolding anyone, let alone Edge, about their language?

“Yeah?” Red prompted again, moving his hand in impatient circles. “Baby Blue?”

“Ok.” Blue nodded quickly, still not quite able to meet Edge’s eyelights, “I won’t get involved. ...Sorry.”

Stretch didn’t like this- he wasn’t sure what Edge and Red were trying to prove against Classic and Blue, of all people, but he knew he couldn’t say anything. Even if it seemed excessive, Edge was acting out of a sense of paternal duty and insecurity. Especially after those impassioned lectures of being publicly supportive, he wasn’t sure what he should do...

“Class-“ Red started to say, only to be cut off by a sound that was equal parts distressed and irritated.

“I don’t want to answer!” Classic shook his head, a stubborn set to his unsure smile, “I can’t give you my blanket approval- because I do not approve! And I cannot condone the use of such forceful methods!” He sighed heavily, looking tired, “You could have handled things with Slim much, much better, Edge! You didn’t need to escalate it to violence- and just because Stretch healed him doesn’t mean it didn’t happen! I think if you just-“

“Papyrus,” Edge leaned on his hands, an undertone of frustration to every punctuated word, “I’m not asking for your permission- I’m going to do whatever I feel is necessary to keep my baby safe.”

Comic cracked one socket open, but didn’t entirely drop his pretense of sleeping, “Don’t you think you’re worried about the wrong guy?”

The Fell monsters exchanged a look. “Nah, ‘cause the Lil’ Tyrant gave in, ‘n so they gave us an out.” Red put his face in his hands, worrying at his sockets restlessly, “They’re ‘duty bound’ to be ‘not enemies.’ Honor ain’t mean nuthin’ back home, but them Swapfell’s’re different ‘bout that shit. Sides, Puppydog ‘n us got history.”

“Oh?” Comic closed his socket with a nonchalant shrug, “Guess honor’s not for chumps, and his goody-two shoes act is believable.”

Equal parts impressed and annoyed, Red’s grin was razor sharp, “Point is, esfinge, that we know Fell, ‘n we know what they’re gonna do. The real concern’s both of yas.” He pointed at both of them with the same hand, “When shit hits, what’cha gonna do?”

Edge crossed his arms over his chest, eyelight bright and focused, “I just need to know if I need to protect Pancake from you.”

Classic put his head down into his hands, muffling what sounded like a frustrated scream. Which, fair enough- Stretch has no idea how he would handle being on the receiving end of this. Just as quickly, Classic was sitting up again, looking like he had just come up with a brilliant idea.

“How about a compromise?” He asked brightly, “I know you know that I would never, ever purposely hurt your babybones! And I absolutely would never ever want to inadvertently cause them harm!”

He crossed his arms, looking torn, “But I can’t just sit here while you maim, humiliate, or otherwise fight with someone just because they make you nervous! That’s a terrible way to handle feelings of anxiety, and will undoubtedly lead to more problems than it solves! So, let’s just not!”

Edge tilted his head, looking cautiously curious, “Not what?”

“Not stay! Let’s just leave! You can tell me you don’t feel safe, and I will escort you out to make sure no one lays a hand on you or Pancake!” Classic held up a hand at the dubious expressions he was receiving, literally waving concerns off, “Let me finish! That way, you can stay physically safe and feel safe, too! And it will still give you the ability to rectify bad behavior- if these people won’t respect your wishes, then they are probably people you don’t want around Pancake right now anyway.”

Classic puffed out his chest with a broad smile, “If it makes you feel better, I can also guarantee I will do my best to find a solution while you are not there! You see, I am very good at conflict mediation, and very stubborn! And Sans is very good at getting out of situations he doesn’t want to be in, so he can guarantee a quick retreat!”

“So...” Edge’s expression soured, “You want me to flee-“

“He wants to be your bodyguard.” Stretch cleared his throat, still not sure if he should comment, but it seemed innocuous enough. “Hustle you out of danger until the coast is clear.”

That changed their attitude. Edge finally sat down next to his husband, arms still right over his chest as he looked at Red. “Bodyguard.”

“Maybe.” Red drummed his fingers on the table, “Switch it. Y’ain’t gotta get your claws dirty, good, ‘n he’s pretty reliable. ‘N tall...”

“I am all of those things!” Classic agreed with a proud toss of his head.

“It would never work with Fell.” Edge started cracking his knuckles, looking down at the tabletop, “They wouldn’t-“

“Ain’t no Fell!” Red whistled loudly to get get his brother’s attention, “Puppydog ‘n Lil’tyrant ain’t no challenge no more, d’fuck else ya worryin’ ‘bout, huh? Ghosts?”

For whatever reason, Edge flinched at that. Hard.

“Edge.” Classic’s voice was gentle. “I won’t let you down.” He slipped off his mitten, holding his pinkie out with an unusually solemn expression, “I promise I won’t let Pancake get hurt under my watch.”

The Fell monster sighed, long and weary, but hooked his own pinkie back, “I’ll let you try. If I need to get involved afterwards, I will- but fine. I’ll let you try first.”

When he made a move to pull back, Classic kept his hand in place. “Sans!” He hissed to his side, jostling his brother with his elbow, “You too.”

Comic took his sweet time sitting up and reaching over to hook his own finger around Edge’s finger. “I’ll back Pap up, and getcha out. If I need to.” He said simply, expression carefully neutral. Well, that was about what Stretch expected- Red didn’t look surprised either.

Comic pulled back a moment later, resettling himself on the cushions with a sigh, “But you should know who your friends are by now.”

“Yes, fine, friends-“ Edge tried to shrug the comment off, but it clearly bothered him enough he felt the need to justify himself. “But I can’t take the same risks as if it were just me.” He managed to keep himself from touching his scarred socket, but he picked at the scars on his knuckles absently, “Friends can still hurt you, even if they don’t mean to- sometimes they’re even worse than enemies. If I’m wrong-“

“Yeah, well-“ Stretch cut in with a cough, putting a discreet arm around his husband’s waist, “We do what we gotta do to protect ourselves and the people we love, right?” Edge didn’t give him much of a reaction, but didn’t resist as he was tugged a little closer.

“We never actually toasted Pancake yet, did we?” Blue was unusually hesitant, still chastened from earlier, but clearly desperate for a topic change. “We should!”

“Yes!” Classic clapped his hands, looking absolutely delighted, “A toast for the baby! And, because I know how much Edge values action over words-“ He opened up his STAT menu, withdrawing 200 g from his gold pouch. “I will fund it!”

“Hell fuckin’ yeah-“ Red perked up immediately, moving his mug to his new spot with magic, “Gonna get chumado as fuuuuck-“ He poured the remainder of Black’s drink in his mug, and moved Slim’s glass closer.

Classic put the gold on the table with obvious flourish, pushing it in their direction, “A gift from us- mostly me, but this is technically everyone else’s money, too- to you... all! Happy impending babybone’s birthday!”

“I-“ Edge looked surprised for a moment, touched and guilty and confused rolled into a too open expression, before he buried it down with a devious smirk. “How very generous!”

He curled his hands under his chin like a cartoon villain, tone innocent in a way that could only be deceptive, “I can only wonder how you’ll top this at Pancake’s shower party! I’m looking forward to see what kind of unique and lavish gift you’ll bring, ‘Uncle Classic.’”

“Uncle?!” Classic’s expression lit up, eyes becoming large hearts as he gasped dramatically. “I get to be Uncle Classic?!”

“If you want,” Stretch barely managed to suppress a relieved sigh, glad everything seemed to be much less tense, “Unless you wanna be called something else?” He glanced at Blue and Red, but neither seemed to be particularly bothered by sharing that title. “We were thinking ‘Sir’ might be fun too, like a knight or something-“

“Wowie, Sir Papyrus!” Classic’s eyelights positively sparkled, “I’ve always dreamed of being a knight!” He shook himself free of the sparkles- literally, although Comic didn’t seem to mind having some on the top of his head- before continuing earnestly, “Of course! I cannot let Pancake down! I will get them the absolute best present of them all!

“Because! I am great at a good many things, especially creating artificially high standards that are difficult to reach! By everyone, sometimes including even me!” Classic smiled broadly before his face became incredibly blank, “What event is this? A baby what?”

“A baby shower! It’s a human tradition!” Blue perked up and launched into a long, detailed explanation Stretch started to tune out immediately. This was more of what he had been hoping for the entire evening, honestly- he was relieved everyone finally seemed to be getting along again and having a good time.

Well, almost everyone. Edge always had a tendency to lay his acting on a little too thick when he was preoccupied, and there was stiff tension to his spine. Stretch would be looking into that at the end of the night. (Early tomorrow morning?)

For now, though, he was content to enjoy warm conversation with good company and this delicious honey mead.

[Part 1 ] [Part 2 ] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5 - Here! ] [Part 6]

#underfell papyrus #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #underswap sans #classic papyrus #comic sans #skelepreg #spicyhoney #redvelvetreel #fanfic #gosh the grammar is really bad sometimes dfjkdfhhd i gotta stop posting at like 1:30 am :c #but thats the only time i haveeeeee oTL

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thatssogayvenrp · 6 years

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Petyr Cliffside | The Shadow Chancellor

The top two floors of Kunt Tower in Astorbury are active crime scenes.

There are no signs of forced entry, which baffles the Orange Battalion captain who has been on duty for the past 36 hours in question. “We were obviously on higher alert,” the Captain insists defensively. “And obviously, that was fruitful, because nobody broke in.”

Cliffside gestures pointedly at the corpse of Dunghill Kunt, in true Mind Flayer form in death without a spell to alter his appearance. The tentacles are a sickly orange. “Then what,” Cliffside says through gritted teeth, “happened here??”

The Captain’s arms remain folded across his armored chest when he shrugs. “An inside job, perhaps?” he shrugs. “The Chancellor has many enemies, including those on his own side.” His hard stare lingers on Cliffside’s gaze with a raised eyebrow.

Cliffside stares back, noting but not verbally addressing the thinly-veiled accusation. “Then can you explain why at least two of your men let somebody into the building?”

“Riiiiiiight, one helpless woman snuck in and killed several people, including the most powerful psionic in the country. Twice,” the Captain scoffs. “Fine, fine. Shrub, Paul, get over here.” He summons two guards posted at the stone door leading to the garbage lift.

They approach, looking more annoyed than professional. Their shift was supposed to end at 10, but whatever the hell happened here has ruined their plans.

“Yes, Captain?” Paul, the taller of the two, asks, his question filled a little bit of bite.

“Describe the lost woman.”

“She was, uh...” Paul struggles to remember. “She was looking for a club? Something about a foam party?” The very distinct window of her shirt, showing a hint of glistening skin...

“What did she look like?” Cliffside asks impatiently.

Paul finds it best to keep his limited observations quiet.

Shrub, with less tact, pipes up. “She was...hot?”

Well, there goes that. “Bro, she WAS,” Paul admits.

“She invited us to a party.”

“She’s waiting for us NOW.”

“Hah, I think she’s waiting for ME —-“

“Gentlemen, please.” Cliffside presses his fingers to his temple, feeling the imminent headache coming on. All of this is an absolute mess.

The Captain, only mildly embarrassed about his men’s antics, waves away Cliffside’s anger. “Sure, say this is the woman that got into the building. You expect me to believe she alone did all of —-this?” He gestures broadly to the entire room, littered with the dead bodies of Bannaruk, Kunt, and Mknaw’l. The tortle shell is badly charred and an acrid burn smell still lingers.

It’s useless to get anything more out of the Captain at this point. Cliffside excuses himself and goes to the top floor. The stone statue doors have been propped open with heavy anvils to ensure continued access as Orange Battalion soldiers file in and out to investigate. Without Kunt’s psionic directives to the statues, it’s unclear how else to keep the doors open, and it’s surprising that this actually works.

On his way through the first room, Cliffside addresses the dwarf statue, animated and quietly thrilled by all of the activity around him.

“You there,” Cliffside barks. “Statue.”

“Uhm, it’s Dwayne,” the statue corrects.

“And Hercules!” the other statue calls from the open, adjacent room. Cliffside turns to see the other animated dwarf statue waving.

“Hey pal, this is my conversation with an outsider, get your own,” Dwayne barks.

“Years of suspense and mystery and I finally get to hear your voice,” Hercules shoots back. “Safe to say I am underwhelmed.”

The headache has definitely manifested and Cliffside wonders how everyone has managed to be so annoying on the same day at the worst possibly time. He crosses to the second room so he can stand between both statues.

Kunt would never give objects names, Cliffside notes. Curious. “Enough, both of you. Tell me about the people that came through here.”

“Why do you wanna know?” Hercules asks with a laugh. The five were an odd bunch, but they were a lot chummier than anyone else who had crossed through and attempted the puzzles. Would it kill some of these adventurers to have a sense of humor? Yeesh.

“Yeah, you gonna kill ‘em or something?” Dwayne jokes.

Cliffside’s expression is dark. “Yes.”

The smile on Dwayne’s face vanishes. It’s unclear if Cliffside notices.

“Remember who you serve,” Cliffside reminds them.

“The big boss man?” Hercules offers in answer, completely ignoring the rhetorical nature of the statement.

“Yeah, didn’t one of you guys —“ Dwayne nods at Cliffside, “— say he was dead?”

Cliffside rolls his eyes. It’s not like these statues could leave this tower and tell everyone the truth of what happened. “Yes, he’s dead. Whatever.”

The statues exchange a look but it’s unclear whether Cliffside catches that too. Hercules shoots a subtle nod across the room and Dwayne seems to consider the question for a moment.

“Uh, four of them I think?” Dwayne finally answers. “Couldn’t see very well.”

“Seriously,” Hercules interjects, “would it kill you to put better lighting in here? I know we are modeled after dwarves, but does that mean that we actually have darkvision?”

Cliffside rolls his eyes. “What did these four look like?” It was like pulling teeth getting information out of anyone today. It was unclear if everyone was hiding something or just simply obtuse. Could have been both, but neither one was appreciated.

“A woman with brown hair. A dwarf. A tall, bald goliath. Another lady with visible bosom. That’s all I got,” Dwayne says with a shrug. He remembers more but omits further details. He omits completely the curly redhead and the fact that the goliath was carrying something extra on the way out. Although this guy here speaks authoritatively, he is NOT the Bossman, and the Bossman left no instructions to answer anyone else truthfully.

Hercules agrees from across the room. The five were probably only joking when they said they would return (maybe not the bosom lady, though, she had a wild sort of sincerity about her that he found himself believing), but they would definitely not return if they were dead as this man wanted them to be.

Cliffside rolls his eyes as he waves off the statues and continues into the final, cavernous room. None of the statues’ descriptions matched anyone from any wanted posters. Maybe the brown-haired woman but that was too vague of a description to go off of.

It was maddening, getting so little information out of everyone in this tower. Cliffside knows there is likely more detail. He kicks himself for not having his own informants in the tower, but remembers that that was made more difficult by the fact that this was Kunt’s private property and was regulated as such. But to have held someone captive on government property would have been even more dangerous. It’s all beside the point now, Cliffside has to remind himself, as the damage has already been done and they can only move forward at this point.

Rihan trots up to Cliffside as he enters the room.

“News of the others?” Cliffside asks.

Rihan knows he is referring to the other nobles in power. “Hiding. Scared. Everything you would expect, especially after the anarchist attack on Zechman’s Estate.” Rihan shrugs. “They know this could have been them if they were here.” Rihan leans in for a whisper. “They are now even more convinced that The Plan should be carried out, some say immediately. Be careful what you wish for.”

Cliffside shakes his head, keeping his voice low. “Not the time yet.” Indeed, not the time, especially when the unrest in the cities was building but could still be undermined. Better to divide and disperse that growing momentum before the final blow, to ensure that everyone stayed down when struck.

“No,” Cliffside says, “best not to let anyone know what happened here. Not until we get control of the situation. As relieved as I am that this bastard is dead, we can’t deny that he has a very loyal following. It is small, but they have taken his influence and words to heart. They will tear our cause apart if we do not secure their loyalty.”

Cliffside looks at the tall metal spikes at the center of the room. The half-elf, the presumed and self-declared guiding hand behind the resistance movement, is gone.

“We don’t want anyone to think the anarchists have bested us,” Cliffside continues. “But we tell them that —“ he considers for a moment, “—tell them their terrorist figurehead is dead. That should fracture some of the support and send the message that we are not to be challenged.”

”But we don’t know that she’s actually dead,” Rihan points out. “Do we want to risk her being seen and reviving any momentum.”

”We will handle that if it arises,” Cliffside says, surveying the debris at the foot of the spikes for anything left behind. Nothing. “And we tell the public that the Chancellor has been removed to an undisclosed location for his safety, in light of the incidents here.”

“And of Mknaw’l, Banarruuk, and the two hags?” Rihan asks.

Cliffside looks down at the bodies of the two hags and considers this for a moment.

“Mknaw’l and Banarruuk have been removed for similar reasons. It will not do to have lost so many influential members of our movement in one fell swoop,” Cliffside says. “But we say the hags were killed in cold blood, targeted for nothing more than their support of a popular figure. That could drum up some sympathy and anger in our favor.”

He looks down at his splinted fingers, healed but still sensitive from his run-in with the half-elf. “Tell the other nobles that we have some work to do,” Cliffside says. “We have to make sure this doesn’t happen to us as well.”

#BoE #petyr cliffside #congrats you have reached the end of Act 1

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pidgezero-one · 6 years

Text

assorted thoughts about the state of my stream and discord server

haven't been doing the stream thing a whole lot lately, and that's mostly because of a couple of things

1) i've been very busy with commissions (see https://twitter.com/pidgezero_one/status/972189424955088897 for info) - this is good!

2) i've been kinda sick lately, symptoms of chronic fatigue syndrome. don't think this is what I actually have, but it was wild to be sleeping 10-11 hours a day after 10 hours of commuting+working. my job is not physically demanding or mentally draining, and i'm fairly certain that my exhaustion was partially caused by other ppl's personal drama surrounding me. this is bad

so anyway, i've completely emotionally checked out of the situations contributing to reason #2, and it's a bad feeling, but i definitely feel healthier and less tired. but this in part led to me kinda reconstructing my discord server to:

a) be less "intense" of a social environment - not only was the serious talk channel being used in ways that are not really appropriate for a public stream discord (which I think contributed to an atmosphere which would be alienating to many members), it was also feeling kinda cliquey at times and it felt strange to me that I couldnt even keep up with my own server most of the time. i wanted it to be somewhere chill where anyone who watches my stream can contribute without having to be part of an established friend group, but at the same time the LAST thing I want is to discourage people from forming close friendships with each other (seriously, if that can happen because of a community I created, that's a personal victory for me)! finding that balance is an ongoing learning process I guess. i think removing the channel in question was prob the best compromise here.

b) include more dedicated channels related to my stream content. i've spent the last few days brainstorming sub perks and such and am kinda working on that in the background. chances are everyone in my discord is there because they either like my stream or like being friends with me, so it probably ought to be easier to find stuff in there related to my stream

i kinda hope that ppl who have been active there before and have fallen off will start to come back, but also that ppl who are active there wont feel like im trying to make our home a sterile place. just trying to find that inclusive balance

as for frequency/content:

i've got a ton more art commissions to do, but tonight i'll be resuming doing art streams. i think i've been burning myself out pushing myself to get through my entire queue before I even think about streaming, when in reality balancing my time throughout the week will result in higher quality work.

i'm on a huge smrpg kick right now, and that means running whatever category I feel like. that means i'm returning to any% as soon as I finish rebuilding my strat chart. I pbed culex RTA yesterday, I routed and ran an all bosses category for fun, and MOTS is the most fun ive ever had with speedrunning, but I do wanna go back to the real category as well.

early morning streams have been good to wake me up, for the foreseeable future this will just be idiot pills 1-10 as it's all I have time for in the morning. so far i've short-streamed every weekday at 6 am for two weeks and plan on keeping the habit up.

on the side i'm resuming dkc2 and AC. casually I wanna play the nier games, alttp, super metroid, ff9 in the nier (heh) future

a tougher topic: i'm not really sure where to go with the presentation of my stream. i've always just done, said, and played whatever I felt like. for the most part I want to keep doing that, but there are some overhauls i'm considering, namely i've been thinking for a while about making my stream more pg. i'm approaching 30 and many of my friends have young kids at home and i don't want to be off limits to them because i'm swearing too much or being inappropriate or whatever. at the same time, the viewers who built the community I already have, have done so and participated under my long history of relative lack of rules to enforce, which has been clearly enjoyable for them considering the wonderful support i've gotten, and I absolutely don't want to alienate them either. this doesn't have an easy answer and is something i'll have to think about for a while.

another thing that's been nagging at me for a while: meme typecasting! I get blamed a lot for "encouraging it", but if you really pay attention... read my tweet history, discord messages, twitch chat messages, etc, see for yourself there really aren't that many memes there lol. you know what it's like when you make 1 joke around somebody and then references to that joke become the only things they *ever* say to you, and then you don't know how to say "ok, that's getting kinda stale" without sounding like a jerk? this is how I feel when like I try to say something serious and am just met with a wall of emote spam or my sentence rephrased with a random word replaced with "dicks" for example. idk what I even do that encourages it, is it just the fact that I don't say anything when it happens? I really don't like to be the fun police and don't like to be a jerk about harmless jokes and just wanna be grateful that people enjoy saying anything to me at all, but man, being pigeonholed as something i'm very clearly not gets kinda tiring :( there's not really a good way to have everyone in the world understand the concept of moderation, is there? either way i don't really like when it gets outta control in my chat/discord, but that doesn't mean I want ppl to stop making those jokes *entirely*, you know? because I do the whole nonsense spam in chats too, but I also make it a point to know when it's too much and also have it not be the *only* thing I do -- it's harmless at the end of the day and people are just having fun, but still feels kinda invalidating when it's all the time lol

stream monster-y stuff also annoys me more than it should. ive thought several times about censoring "rip" and emotes like "NotLikeThis" from my chat lol. also not a big fan of ppl who go overboard with joking insults, theres maybe only 2 or 3 ppl who can do this with me and have me actually find it funny, and I doubt any of them are reading this. i just make a point of not responding to it because there's nothing to gain from openly getting mad about it

I have no illusions about obtaining partnership. it would be nice to have, but it's not something i'm actively pursuing or really care about. any changes I make to my stream/community are being considered for what would make it more fun for me and more accessible for anyone who likes me or the things/games I stream, and that's what makes it toughest

just some thoughts for now, i'm just gonna keep doing what I feel like doing going forward.

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