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#I'm just really excited about how it turned out
vanesycho · 2 days
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Summary:A little warning to your boyfriend who is insecure about his face.
warning:smut, face riding, pussy eating
a/n: @ldh0000 hope you like it luv😔🫶🏻 really obsessed with him🙏🏻
wc:0,9k
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"Baby, aren't you ready yet?" Chan spoke as he entered the room and looked at you doing your makeup in front of the mirror, you looked at him in the mirror and spoke "No, I'm sorry this is taking so long." Chan walked over to you and leaned over the mirror, fixed his hair "Wow, today I'm declaring myself the ugliest man in the world." You put down your makeup without reacting to his 'joke' and turned to him, saw that he's smiling at you "How many times do we have to talk about not saying things like that?" He looked at your furrowed eyebrows and chuckled, kissed your cheek "Oh, don't take it seriously honey. It was just a joke. I mean… when I look at myself, well… I'm just exaggerating a bit."
You rolled your eyes and talked more to yourself as you did your makeup "It pisses me off that you don't realize how good you really look. I can't understand all your insecurities." he folded his arms and continued to listen to you as the smile on his face grew "I wonder how you dare to call yourself ugly when your handsome face and amazing body drive me crazy. I could even sit on your face and praise you for hours just to prove how beautiful you are, stupid." He raised his eyebrows questioningly and let out a chuckle, then you realized what you said and turned your head to him and made him laugh.
"Okay I didn't expect this much, to be honest. But I can't say I didn't like it." he leaned towards you and spoke against your lips "Should we cancel today's plans? So you can sit on my face and I won't joke about my looks again." You licked your dry lips, the thought of it making you clench your legs together. "Promise?" He smiled and held out his hand. "I promise." You took his hand and stood up, watching Chan take off his shirt and lie down on the bed. You now realized you were holding your breath and let out a deep breath. Chan, who was looking down at you, bit his lower lip excitedly and patted his lap. "Take off your clothes and come here," he didn't even have to repeat.
Your panties were on the floor in a short while and you were now on his lap, he gripped your hips tightly and let out a deep groan as he pressed you against him. "You look so beautiful." You smiled at the compliment you received. "You should see yourself. God...I have the most beautiful boyfriend." He gave a shy smile and pressed you back against him. "Let me taste you, I can tell how wet you are even through my clothes, fuck." You lifted your hips and moved forward a little more, stopping when you got to his face, Chan placed his hands on your legs and gave your clit a small lick first. When this unexpected move made your hips move away from his face, Chan tightened his grip and made you sit down completely.
His tongue started licking your hole, as you felt his big nose, made you let out a loud moan at the same time. "C-chris..Y-yes- you're so good.." The compliment he received excited Chan instantly and he continued his tongue strokes. Your moans showed that he was doing a good job, and with the confidence that came from it, he took care of your entire pussy. You ran a hand through his hair, begging for more. “Ride my face baby, I know you want it. Make your boyfriend happy by giving him what he wants.” You started to move your hips slowly, Chan’s face was almost completely covered with your juices, you moaned in pleasure as he sent a muffled moan into your pussy. “Please- you’re so good yes keep going- f-fuck I’m so close.” Chan didn’t care if he was out of breath at that moment, he didn’t stop or slow down his movements, what mattered right now was for you to cum on his beautiful face and he wanted it right now. Your moans were now like tears, your hips roamed over his face, Chan’s tongue was enough to destroy your hole. First he licked it all over and then he guided it to your hole and pushed it inside, while he helped you ride his nose where it was right next to your clit. Your hips were still moving to your face, you let your clenched body relax as you finally came. The cum that was dripping from Chan’s chin started to run down his neck. He didn't let you get up, he wanted to clean up every bit of liquid himself.
When he finally loosened his grip on your legs you shifted to the side and looked at him, swallowed as you looked at his face that was still full of your juices. “Fuck, you’re beautiful even when you’re this messed up.” He laughed at your hypnotic tone and looked away from you for a moment. “Thank you baby. Ah..if that’s what I’m going to have to go through every time I’m insecure, I’m okay with that.” You laughed and punched him lightly in the chest. “No, you promised.” He caught the spot you hit and a laugh echoed through the room. Chan leaned in and kissed your head. “I know, I’ll keep my promise…If you sat on my face every time I wanted?” You nodded, he smiled at that. “Good. Come back now, I’m not done with you.”
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rafesapologist · 2 days
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strangers ─ drew starkey; ch. 1
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summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.
warnings: nothing yet, just not proof read fully
author's note: i want to preface that i was heavily influenced by karen x graham from daisy jones and the six (iykyk) as well as chase and madelyn's irl relationship for this story. i'm really excited for you guys to read this and as usual, if you'd like to be on the taglist please let me know!
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You couldn’t sit still, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt while your knee bounced uncontrollably in the backseat of the rented SUV. The soft hum of the engine only amplified your restlessness. Your eyes flickered around, catching glimpses of palm trees and blurred tourists through the tinted windows—offering a momentary shield from the unforgiving Los Angeles sun and the bustling crowds beyond.
“How are you feeling?” Kendra, your manager, chimed in from beside you, her smile perfectly in place, glossy lips forming a curve that felt rehearsed.
You forced a chuckle, though it barely masked the pounding in your chest. “Just a little nervous, that’s all.” The words came out flat, a thin veil over the tension twisting inside you.
Kendra gave your leg a quick pat, her reassurance as smooth as ever. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve already nailed the hardest part—the audition. A chemistry read? That’s a breeze in comparison.” Her voice was soothing, but her focus never left the phone in her hand, the gesture feeling mechanical—like a line delivered without thought.
Auditioning for the show had been a gamble, and the stakes felt even higher now. You were still a relative unknown, and Outer Banks wasn’t just any show—it was the show. A streaming giant. You’d almost declined when the offer came, the weight of its success pressing down like an invisible hand. But here you were, convinced by the right mix of encouragement and blind hope, about to see if that gamble would pay off.
"You just need to go in there and feed off your co-star’s energy. Whatever emotion they’re giving you, absorb it and give it right back," your manager instructed, her voice firm as her eyes finally lifted from her phone. She leaned forward slightly, her hand resting on your arm as if to ground you, while the SUV glided through the final stretch of traffic. The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, matched only by the tension in your chest. The destination loomed closer, visible just beyond the tinted windows, and her gaze locked on you, expectant and unwavering, as if her will alone could push you over the finish line.
“Got it,” you replied, forcing another thin-lipped smile—polite yet distant, as if dismissing her with the same gesture. Your attempt to stay cordial was barely masking your desire for space. Just then, your heart gave a hard thud, perfectly timed with the jolt of the SUV rolling over the first speed bump in the studio parking lot. The looming reality hit you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs, as the building came into full view. Each second that passed only deepened the pit in your stomach, the dreadful weight of what was to come pressing harder.
“Thank you,” you murmured to the driver, slipping a small cash tip across the center console as your manager was already halfway out of the SUV. It was a quiet gesture of appreciation, a way to acknowledge the small but crucial role he’d played in getting you there, to this moment. He turned, offering you a kind, knowing smile before you stepped out, gently closing the door behind you. As you straightened your skirt, you couldn’t help but stare up at the building in front of you, its towering stature appearing overhead.
Kendra strode ahead, confidently leading the way as she pulled open the door and gestured for you to step inside. Though her presence could be demanding and stern, in that moment it offered a small but necessary comfort amid the unfamiliar sea of faces that now surrounded you. The room quieted as you entered, and a dozen pairs of eyes turned in your direction, their stares heavy and intense, making you feel small under the weight of their scrutiny. You forced a smile—thin but polite—trying to seem more outgoing than you felt, hoping to project the right impression even as your nerves simmered beneath the surface.
“Well, look who it is—the girl of the hour! Y/N! So nice to see you again,” an unfamiliar voice rang out, though the man’s face sparked a vague sense of recognition, likely from the audition. He stood up, extending his hand with a broad smile that was meant to put you at ease.
"Hello," you replied warmly, masking the swirl of anxiety inside as you shook his hand, maintaining a steady grip. “Thank you again for allowing me this far into the audition process. I’m very grateful.” Your voice remained poised, calm, even though your insides felt like they were twisting into knots.
Your manager’s approval resonated softly behind you, a gentle hum of reassurance as she watched the exchange unfold. “I’m not sure if I introduced myself properly last time we met. My name is Jonah; I’m the director for the show,” he said, his voice rich and authoritative, each word heavy with expectation. A lump formed in your throat, the gravity of his presence amplifying the stakes, pressing down like a lead weight.
“Today, we’re going to have you do a chemistry read with who will be your love interest on the show.” His words hung in the air like a charged whisper, and your eyes widened, disbelief swirling within you. The truth struck with the force of a summer storm; you hadn’t fully grasped the role awaiting you until now.
The thought of embodying someone’s love interest sent a ripple of exhilaration and fear through your veins, making your stomach tumble as if caught in a tempest. Would it be a playful spark, filled with laughter and fleeting glances, or a brooding romance, steeped in longing and tension?
You nodded, a practiced motion that belied the ball of anxiety swirling within. Each beat of your heart echoed the dread tightening in your stomach, the sensation bubbling up like a restless tide. The thought of being paired with one of the actors to portray a romance on-screen sent a shiver racing down your spine.
You swallowed hard, trying to push the lump in your throat aside, your gaze flickering around the room, desperate for any hint of who your co-star might be. Each unfamiliar face felt like a potential source of scrutiny, and the air thickened with tension as you scanned the room, searching for clues amidst the sea of strangers.
“Okay!” Jonah clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and authoritative, breaking the taut silence that had settled. “Let’s get Drew out here.” His voice rang out, clear and commanding, drawing every eye to the door, where a buzz of anticipation rippled through the room. You felt the air shift, charged with expectation, as if the very walls were leaning in to hear who would step through that doorway.
A wave of heat washed over you at the sound of his name, igniting a fire of recognition deep within. You had seen him countless times in glossy magazines and flickering screens, caught glimpses of him at film festivals where the air buzzed with admiration, yet never had your paths crossed until now. Though he wasn’t the biggest name yet, he was a force—a powerful actor whose presence resonated through the industry like a distant thunderstorm.
As the thought of sharing the screen with him settled in your mind, your heart fluttered, a nervous bird trapped in a cage of anticipation. How could you possibly keep pace with someone whose talent seemed to flow effortlessly, whose performances were a masterclass in emotion? Doubt began to coil around your thoughts, tightening like a vine, each tendril whispering fears of inadequacy.
The room felt like a distant echo, the chatter of voices fading into a soft hum as you waited for him to enter. Your heart raced, a wild thump that reverberated through your chest, each pulse a reminder of the anticipation coursing through your veins. The other directors and screenwriters settled back into their seats, alongside your manager, their eyes fixed on you like an audience eager for the first act to begin.
Just as you began to drown in the weight of their stares, the atmosphere shifted, the air charged with electric anticipation. The door creaked open, and time seemed to stretch, every second hanging heavy. Your gaze snapped toward the sound, and your throat tightened as a tall, brooding figure stepped into the room. His presence filled the space, his stature both commanding and slightly intimidating.
For a brief moment, your mind went blissfully blank, as if time had paused to let the reality of him sink in. He moved with an effortless grace, each step purposeful as he greeted the group at the table, his voice smooth and resonant. You could see Jonah nodding in acknowledgment, and then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, he turned his gaze toward you.
Suddenly, he was there, standing before you, and the air between you felt impossibly thick, heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The moment was alive with a sense of anticipation, the unknown curling around you like smoke. You straightened your posture instinctively, trying to summon every ounce of composure, as if by holding yourself steady, you could convince the room—and yourself—that this was effortless, that you weren’t rattled by the sheer gravity of the encounter.
With a smooth, fluid motion, Drew extended his hand, the gesture both graceful and commanding, his fingers outstretched with a quiet confidence that spoke of experience beyond his years. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Drew,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, a gentle warmth woven into the words that caught you off guard. His tone was far kinder than you’d imagined, the kind of voice that could lull a room into ease.
As you reached out to meet his handshake, his touch was firm yet light, grounding yet unassuming, and in that brief connection, the world around you seemed to pause. The noise of the room, the watching eyes, the weight of your nerves—all of it faded, if only for a heartbeat. His presence was commanding but not overwhelming, his demeanor holding the delicate balance between strength and gentleness.
"Hello," you replied, your voice lifting an octave higher than usual, a subtle attempt to come across as feminine, poised. "I'm Y/N." As his hand met yours, your attention flickered to the way his fingers moved—effortlessly, fluidly—sending a tremor through your chest. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch, your pulse quickening under the gentle but assured pressure of his grip.
You couldn’t ignore how small you felt beneath his towering presence. The realization that you had to tilt your head slightly just to meet his eyes made the knot in your stomach twist tighter. His height, his frame—it all made the space between you feel charged, his presence simultaneously grounding and intimidating.
“It’s a pleasure,” he said again, his voice smooth as honey, the warmth in his eyes unwavering. His gaze was soft, kind, a contradiction to the commanding figure he cut. You could feel his energy, an unspoken ease radiating from him, as if he could sense the nerves bubbling beneath your surface.
"If you're feeling nervous or uncomfortable at any point, just let me know," he added, his voice dropping lower, as though he were shielding his words from the watchful eyes of the casting directors around you. "But I'm sure you've got this." His tone was gentle, reassuring, his words slipping through the space between you with a quiet confidence.
You nodded quietly at his gesture, a soft acknowledgment of his awareness and kindness, the unspoken "thank you" hanging between you. Before you could find any words to respond, one of the casting crew approached, handing each of you a script for the audition. The weight of the paper felt heavier than it should, the magnitude of the moment settling in deeper.
Chemistry reads had never been your strong suit, not in the brief time you’d been working in this industry. And this? This felt like a leap into a whole new realm, with expectations looming over you. Your eyes flicked down to the script, scanning the lines with the practiced speed of someone used to absorbing words as if they were lifelines. You read them once, then twice, allowing the emotions on the page to sink in and swirl around your mind, even as the undercurrent of nerves made it harder to focus.
Drew stood calmly in front of you, his presence steadying but no less overwhelming. You could feel his quiet confidence as he glanced through his own lines. The room was still, save for the soft rustling of papers and the occasional murmur from the casting team in the background. You straightened your back, holding onto every ounce of composure you could muster, and waited for the director’s cue.
"Alright, you may begin whenever you're ready," Jonah announced, his soft smile doing little to ease the weight pressing on your chest. His eyes flickered between you and Drew, expectant, watching for the magic to unfold. As his words sank in, a queasy wave rolled through your stomach, the weight of the moment pressing harder against your nerves. There was no turning back now—any hesitation would be a glaring failure, something that could follow you like a shadow in this unforgiving industry. The thought of being blackballed clawed at your mind, and you suddenly longed to disappear, to slip into a place where eyes weren’t always watching.
But before you could let the panic take hold, Drew stepped into the moment, his voice cutting through the tension like a lifeline. He began his lines effortlessly, the words rolling off his tongue as though they belonged to him, his presence filling the room with a quiet confidence. It was as if he had taken command of the space, a seasoned professional steering the scene with ease.
As if possessed by his character, Rafe, Drew dove into his lines with raw intensity. "Maisy, I care about you. But I-I can't risk it. I would never forgive myself if I got you involved in my mess and you got hurt because of it." His hand trembled slightly, betraying the emotion he was drawing from deep within. He pointed to his chest with a shaky finger, his voice quivering just enough to feel real, to pull at the heartstrings. His head hung low, the weight of sorrow written across his face, his entire presence drenched in regret.
You stood there, momentarily in awe of his transformation. The way he embodied Rafe with such vulnerability fueled your own performance, making it impossible not to feel the emotions he was radiating. It lit a fire within you, urging you to dive into the scene, to match the depth he was offering.
"Rafe," you spoke, your voice slipping into the soft, pleading tone of Maisy, letting the character take over your body as effortlessly as breathing. The words trembled on your lips, each one laced with a quiet desperation. "I don’t care what happens to me. I just want to be with you. Don’t… don’t do this."
You shook your head slowly, your movements measured, deliberate, as you stepped forward, closing the space between you. Your hand reached out, grazing his cheek, the tender contact filled with unspoken emotion. As if on cue, tears welled in your eyes, the sting of them amplifying the moment. You gazed up at him, your expression filled with a mixture of pain and hope, as if you were begging not just for Maisy’s life, but for everything she believed in. It was a skill you prided yourself on—channeling emotion so deeply that it felt like it bled from your very soul, and in this moment, you were no longer yourself. You were Maisy, standing on the edge of heartbreak.
Drew’s eyes, glossy with unshed tears, locked onto yours, his sorrow so palpable it seemed to seep into the air between you. His hands ran through his hair in frustration, fingers gripping the ends as if trying to hold himself together. He began to pace, his movements restless, the emotional weight in his voice thick and raw.
"You don’t get it, Maisy," he started, his voice breaking with a mix of frustration and pain. "Everything I’ve ever cared about in my life has abandoned me. I’ve never had anybody who cares about me like you do. I love you so much that it hurts—it hurts me," he cried, pressing a trembling finger into his chest, the gesture full of anguish. His blue eyes, once so calm, were now brimming with tears that slipped down his face, streaking his cheeks as he stood there, vulnerable in a way that left him utterly exposed.
"I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you," he continued, his voice cracking, "but I have to protect you, even if that means letting you go." His brows furrowed deeply, his entire expression twisted in agony, his gaze never leaving yours. It was as though, in that moment, Rafe was no longer a character—he was real, and the pain etched on his face was authentic, an outpouring of emotions he couldn’t contain.
But you didn’t miss a beat. Despite the intensity of his performance, you held steady, the emotions boiling within you just as fierce. "You can’t make that decision for me, Rafe," you pleaded, your voice rising with a mixture of desperation and defiance. Your hands flew into the air as if surrendering to the chaos of the moment.
"If I get hurt, that’s on me. I knew the risk of being with you, and I don’t care!" Your words spilled out with conviction, each one wrapped in the weight of Maisy’s determination. "Nothing is going to make me leave." Your voice was firm but edged with vulnerability, the sternness in your tone undercut by the undeniable pain that flickered beneath. You stood there, watching him, as if your very heart was on the line, a pitiful sort of strength anchoring you in place, demanding that he listen—that he understand.
"Being with you is worth it all," you added softly, your voice tinged with a raw desperation that could only come from someone who had lived through heartbreak. The vulnerability in your tone wrapped itself around the moment, thickening the air between you. Drew’s blue eyes, glossy with emotion, flickered between yours as if he were trying to decode the tragedy etched in your expression. It was as though, in that fleeting silence, his heart was breaking too, caught in the moment of the scene you were creating together.
Then, without warning, his large hands cupped your face, his touch sending warmth rushing to your cheeks. His palms, rough yet tender, cradled your skin, and for a moment, the world outside the scene seemed to vanish. "Promise me you won't go anywhere," he pleaded, his voice trembling with the same desperate intensity that mirrored your own. The emotion in his words was so intense, it felt as if the two of you were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.
"I promise, Rafe," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering, a soothing balm to the storm brewing in the room. Despite the emotional intensity, you held steady, grounding both of you in the moment.
For a brief second, the world paused. There was silence—a sacred, fragile quiet—allowing the vulnerability between you to speak louder than any dialogue could. The casting crew sat in rapt attention, witnessing the depth you had both drawn from. Drew’s thumb gently grazed your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours, as though he couldn’t bear to break the connection. The moment was electric, heavy with meaning, as if you were no longer acting but living the characters’ truths.
"I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? I swear on my life," he vowed, his voice deep and resolute, yet drenched in emotion and passion. His words hit like a surge of energy, drawing you in, making your heart skip in response. There was something in the way he spoke that made it feel real, as if this promise wasn't just for Maisy, but for you too.
You nodded up at him, chest heaving as you breathed in the weight of the moment, each inhale heavy with the raw intensity of the scene. It felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, emotions pulsing between your bodies like a silent current, your heart racing to keep up. You weren’t acting anymore—every word felt lived, every gesture steeped in the desperation and love your characters clung to. The air between you and Drew hummed, alive with the electricity of shared vulnerability, a fragile bond that tethered you both to this moment.
Then, like a sharp crack in the stillness, a clap echoed through the room. The spell shattered instantly, the delicate tension that had built between you dissolving as reality rushed back in.
"That was incredible," Jonah’s voice broke through the haze, his head shaking in awe, a grin of disbelief spreading across his face. "The chemistry between you two is beautiful." His words were thick with praise, and you couldn’t help but glance over at Drew, a faint smile teasing the edges of your lips. The connection you’d forged in those few minutes lingered, a quiet understanding that neither of you spoke aloud.
"I think we’ve seen enough," Jonah continued, his tone final yet filled with certainty. "I think you’d be perfect as Maisy."
The world around you stilled, sound fading into a distant hum as his words sank in. Your heart seemed to pause, suspended in disbelief, before it raced forward, pounding against your chest like a wild drum. It was as if time itself had slowed, every second stretching out as the magnitude of what he’d said enveloped you.
"Oh my God, thank you!" The words burst from your lips, a mix of breathless excitement and overwhelming gratitude. Your cheeks flushed a rosy pink as joy flooded through you, warmth spreading through your body in waves. It was impossible to contain the wide, radiant smile that broke across your face. The world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to this single, life-altering moment. You felt lighter, as though all the doubts and fears you’d carried had evaporated into thin air.
Your eyes darted between Jonah and Drew, the weight of their gazes making everything feel real—so achingly real. You had done it. You had stepped into the role, not just as Maisy, but as someone who had finally claimed their place in the world.
"You did great," Drew said, his smile wide and genuine, a warm glow in his eyes that radiated excitement. You could feel his energy wrapping around you, a comforting embrace that mirrored your own joy. As your smile blossomed, his grew in tandem.
Your manager beamed, clapping along with the group of directors, her expression a blend of pride and exhilaration that you had never witnessed before. The room buzzed with energy, each person caught up in the moment of celebration.
"Thank you so much for this opportunity," you replied, your voice a melody of gratitude, bubbling up from within. "I won’t let you down." You stepped forward, reaching for Jonah’s hand, your heart fluttering with excitement as you shook his hand firmly. It was a gesture of gratitude, a promise of your commitment, and you felt a rush of warmth at the connection—a shared understanding that this was just the beginning.
You moved down the line, shaking hands with the rest of the crew, each grip solid and reassuring. Their smiles met yours, each one a testament to the hard work and passion that had brought you to this moment. In those brief exchanges, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that ignited a fire within you.
You made your way back to Drew, and to your surprise, he enveloped you in a hug that spoke volumes, his arms wrapping around you in a warmth that felt both comforting and exhilarating. "Congratulations," he murmured softly in your ear, his voice a gentle melody that resonated in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The embrace lingered, a moment suspended in time, before he pulled back, his smile radiating a bright, infectious joy that lit up the room.
"Thank you. You were awesome, by the way. I'm excited to work with you," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips, raw and unfiltered, yet undeniably true.
Drew chuckled, a rich sound that sent a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he nodded, "Likewise," he replied, adding a playful wink that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. In that fleeting exchange, the connection deepened, an unspoken promise of collaboration and creativity.
Turning towards your manager, you embraced her, feeling the solid weight of her pride enveloping you like a soft cloak. She returned the hug with a firm pat on your back, her touch both grounding and uplifting. "You did great, kid. I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion, wrapping around you like a warm embrace on a chilly day.
You left the studio with a sense of accomplishment unlike anything you had ever experienced before, a buoyant feeling that danced in your chest like a flame ignited by success. The joy radiating off your manager only amplified your triumph, her excitement palpable, like the warm glow of the sun on your skin.
As you slipped into the black SUV parked outside, a smile crept onto your face, blossoming with every heartbeat. The vehicle felt like a cocoon, enveloping you in a new sense of pride, a sanctuary that held the promise of new beginnings.
Your manager, brimming with enthusiasm, quickly dialed your agency, her voice animated as she relayed the news of your audition triumph. You could hear her words spill forth like a rushing river, each syllable a testament to your hard work and dedication.
As you absorbed your newfound outlook on life, the sunny L.A. sky seemed to sparkle with an ethereal clarity, its azure expanse stretching endlessly above you like an artist’s canvas, brushed with hues of hope and possibility. The golden rays cascaded down, bathing the city in a warm embrace, each glimmer igniting your spirit as if the universe itself were celebrating your triumph alongside you. In that moment, it felt as though no force on earth could disrupt the intoxicating high that enveloped you, each breath filled with the sweet essence of achievement.
"You better get ready for tonight, 'cause we are celebrating on me!" your manager exclaimed, her voice a jubilant melody that danced through the air, weaving joy into the fabric of the day. Her enthusiasm sparkled like champagne bubbles, promising an evening alive with laughter and camaraderie.
With a smile stretching across your face, you realized that this was just the beginning. The night was a canvas yet to be painted, and you were the artist, ready to fill it with laughter, joy, and new memories.
And in that instant, you understood: you were no longer the girl who had once doubted herself. You were a force to be reckoned with, ready to embrace every opportunity that lay ahead. The chapter of uncertainty had closed, making way for a new narrative, one filled with passion, courage, and the promise of dreams finally taking flight.
And maybe even something more.
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Hello! I don't know if requests are open, I'm sorry, but I have a request 🥹 You can ignore it if you want!
Imagine the reader dyeing her hair, and Logan doesn't really understand the concept, but thinks she looks really pretty, and then she asks him to dye the back part where she can't see 😭❤️‍🩹 just cute and loving
My requests are always open!
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Logan always loved your hair. He thought you always had it so pretty, even when you just woke up and it was all over the place. He loved whatever shampoo you used it always made it so soft and smelt sweet. You changed your hair often and it always turned out amazing, Logan just assumed that you went to the salon to get your hair done, he knew that you did your nails at home you said it was too expensive to go out and get them done professionally so you just did it at the house. He hated the smell of the polish, but he did love seeing you having pretty nails, so he put up with it and sometimes he even helped paint your right hand. However, he had just assumed you got your hair done professionally, he never saw you do your hair at the house at it just looked too well done for an amateur.
He has been getting upset with you lately, and he didn't know how to tell you.
He always wanted to be the one who took care of you. He wanted to provide for you, no matter the cost or what it was. He just wanted you to have whatever you wanted in life, but you kept denying his offers to get your hair done. He was about to just make an appointment at some random salon and drive you there for it so you would stop arguing with him over dumb stuff like money.
.
.
He just got off work and was walking into the house, ready to not back down from the fight he knew was coming, but as he was walking into the house, a strong smell overwhelmed his senses. He groaned and scrunched up his nose "the fuck is that smell??"
You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Logan so soon. "Logan! You weren't supposed to be home for another hour!" You rushed back to the bathroom to try and clean up some of the hair product you've been using and to open the window to air out the room as best as you could.
"What is that smell?" Logan asked again, still not knowing what he was smelling. You cringed slightly and turned to him with the bowl of hair dye in your hands. "I was doing my hair, just a touch-up, but I-I thought you weren't going to be home for a while, so I thought I'd have time to air the house out. I know you're sensitive to smells and just assumed that the dye would be too strong for you."
Logan felt his heart swell slightly, hearing that you took his enhanced smell into consideration. "Do...do you need help?" He asked sort of bashfully. He took the bowl from your hand gently and mixed the dye with the brush. He cringed slightly from the smell, but he was ready to push through it to help you.
"Could you get the back for me? I don't think I got all of it" you turned around and showed him the back of your head and he bit back a laugh when he saw you missed a section of hair.
"Yeah, I got it, baby." he just told himself that he was painting... sort of? He really didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't want to mess up, so he just really lathered the dye on your hair and tried to not get it all over your skin. When he was done, he set the bowl down and tapped your shoulders, "Okay, I think I'm done now what?" You explained that you needed to set a timer and that you'd wash it out after it goes off. He nods and sets the timer for you.
He likes to think he is a patient man after living all of his years, but those 30 minutes felt like 30 years. Once the timer finally went off, he helped you wash your hair and watched as you dried and styled it. He was always excited to see how you ended up doing your hair but this time he was even more excited to see how it turned out and once you showed him how it turned out he couldn't help but feel pride knowing he was the one who helped you.
Taglist:
@userchai
@mahi-tamashi
@100percentlazybonez
@lanassmarty
@western-pyro
@misscrissfemmefatale
@marit332
@navs-bhat
@fluffy-b33z
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soaps-mohawk · 1 day
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I've got some very exciting news
Since the start of October is about a week away (I know how gross where did the year go?) and we all know that marks the start of the kinkiest month of the year, I've got some exciting news
I am doing Kinktober this year, as I think I've stated before previously. I'm not doing every day again this year since I had to make my own list and just didn't really feel inspired by some and just didn't have the energy to write others.
Then I got a brilliant idea.
This year's Kinktober will have a...bit of a theme...
Allow me to use a meme to explain
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Yes, all of my kinktober fics will be centered around Kyle, our beloved Gaz, Mr. Severely Underappreciated And That's A Crime.
The fics are all kink-related. Some are just straight kinks, others may involve some uh...other things 😏
I'll be releasing a more in-depth post closer to October 1st that will also serve as the masterlist (and I will be linking it on my navigation post as its own link). I have an update schedule planned for Kinktober (and CRCB will still be ongoing during October but we will be having a conversation about that fic separately) and will be posting on my taglist blog for Kinktober fics as well since that blog is for everything that gets released on this blog. So if you would like to be notified of when Kinktober fics come out, give that blog a follow and turn on notifications. (I sound like a YouTuber)
Anyway, that's the plan. We're giving Kyle some much deserved attention and love for Kinktober. I will also have some other things going on over on my Patreon for paid-Patrons since I can't make NSFW stuff public, so if you're interested go and check that out.
But yes, so much content is coming in October for y'all and honestly I'm really excited. You'll get more detailed info in the Kinktober masterlist which will probably be dropping closer to the weekend or maybe even next Monday. We'll see. I'll also be posting some news about CRCB here soon as well, also probably closer to the end of the week.
Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day and I'll be back regularly scheduled weekly posting (asks and comment reblogs) here probably in a couple hours from when this post originally posted. If you're seeing this later then...I've probably already started 💚
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hubbypossession · 1 day
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"Are you sure about this? It feels wrong. They are actual father and son." One of the ghosts said as they watched the two men from above.
"All the more reason no one will think it's weird we will spend so much time together." The bigger, burly ghost said as he got excited. "C'mon, I'm itching for a body again. It's been too long."
Suddenly, the bigger of the two ghosts turned translucent and flew down to the two men. He decided on possessing the son, tunneling towards his mouth as he opened it to speak.
"Dad, I really think we should try and change up the strat-GAHH!" He yelped as the ghost shoved itself into his mouth and pushed him back onto the grass.
"Son! Son! Fuck, what happened! Speak to me!" The father got on the ground next to his son and watched in horror as his son convulsed on the ground and sputtered words that didn't make sense. The ectoplasm leaked out of his mouth and his gut rumbled and grew in size to accommodate the new host.
"Help! I need help over here! Gavin, please! What's wrong?!"
All of a sudden, 'Gavin' shot open his eyes and stopped convulsing as his gut shrank down to normal size.
"Cool it daddio. I'm good. Your son is a-okay!" He said in his unnatural ghostly voice, standing up as he inspected his body.
"Gavin, what happened? Are you alright?" You fucking had a seizure! I mean, look at your face. What was that coming out of your mouth?" His father said worriedly as he guided him towards the bench to sit down.
"Let's just say I had an out-of-body experience, eh? Don't worry old man. You'll get to know the feeling soon enough." Gavin said with a devilish smirk, still using his deep voice.
Suddenly, another vortex of mist raced down and plummeted into the father's mouth as it pushed him to the ground.
"Yeah... that's right baby. Ooh it's gonna be fun to feel that bearded face sucking me off tonight later."
After a similar minute of convulsing, struggling, and groaning, the father's eyes blinked open, now completely relaxed as his new host took control.
"Welcome back 'Dad'. How you feeling?" Gavin said excitedly.
"Do you really need to ask?" The father said in a similarly gravely voice as Gavin helped him to his feet. "You were right about these two. This will be fun."
The two possessed men walked away from the game as they made their way towards the bathroom. It was time for these two to get to know each other a little better.
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mustainegf · 3 days
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Hi Elena poo my beloved 👅👅👅I have a yummy request for youuuu
Current! James (who has like I DONT WANT TO SAY TROUBLE BUT…. A difficult time getting it up all the way) is in a relationship with younger!reader (not that big of an age gap.) and the first time they do it together James realizes that he’s like OVERLY hard like really hard and since he hasn’t been like really hard since he was in his 40s-early 50s and so he gets really overstimulated when he’s like doing the deed with the reader and he gets embarrassed but like it’s okay❤️
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Thank.
HI VONNIIEEEE!!!!!
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𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 ²⁰²⁴
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I ran my hand up the very distinct bulge in James black jeans, feeling it throb from below the denim.
"Someone's real excited..." I tease giving his clothes member a playful squeeze.
"Shockingly."" he winced softly, groaning at the hardness.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I smirk at him, feigning offence.
"No,no... not like that... I mean uh— let's just say my age has restricted, um... my performance.." he stammers, going a deep red.
His age isn't something he hides, nor am I naive enough to think he wouldn't talk about it. Just hearing the thought of an older man still having sexual desires makes me wetter than ever.
"Clearly not this time around... you've got me so fuckin' hard baby..."
I run my hand over the crotch, cupping his length under his belt. My hand slides down his fly, slipping underneath.
My fingers slide through his pubes, and I start to pull on them, moving lower until I reach the top of his cock. I move it left then right, slowly sliding it back and forth along his shaft.
I can feel every inch covered with tight denim, how large it must be beneath there. My pinky moves onto the tip of his head, circling it. He lets out another moan as my finger traces around his sensitive spot.
I then grab the base of his cock, gently pulling it free from his jeans. He gasps, his eyes widening when my hand wraps around his exposed member.
It feels even larger now than before. "Holy shit.." I mutter to myself as I begin to slowly stroke him. I feel my pussy get even wetter at the sight of his throbbing cock.
His moans become louder as I pump faster and harder. He grunts as I squeeze his balls, massaging them tightly while I jerk him off. "Ohh... that's so fucking good baby," he coos breathlessly.
"Shit... I haven't been this hard in years...' he groaned out, tipping his head back.
"Yeah? You that desperate for me?" I coo, tracing the vein on his underside before pillow back, teasing and tugging down my lace panties.
I place my palm between his thighs and push him backwards, guiding him to sit on his bed. I straddle him, resting my hips on his legs.
His thickening dick pokes into my clit as I grind against it, rubbing my swollen lips across its girth.
"Fuck… That's what I need.." I murmur lustfully, bending forward to press my lips against his.
James twitches at the sensation on his tip. "Ah-fuck! Oh God..." he whined, clearly overstimulated, he hasn't been this hard in a while.
James grips the sheets with one hand while grabbing my waist with the other. He pulls me close, kissing me as we both moan loudly into each other's mouths.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my hips back as I guide his cock head towards my entrance. Slowly I insert myself onto him, taking in his thickness bit by bit.
"Oh god yes," James sighs with pleasure, digging his fingernails into my ass. I cry out in ecstasy as I take all of him inside of me, feeling my insides stretch around his impressive girth.
"Ah! Ahh... f-fuck... it's so.. sensitive," James whines, his member must be throbbing with being this hard.
With a loud yelp I pull away from him, arching my back slightly as I rub his wet cockhead. It still pokes up proudly, throbbing as I slide it side to side.
I'm playing with the head, making sure to hit every ridge and edge. Each time he moans or cries out my heart skips a beat, getting me even more turned on than I already was. I smile down at him.
"Mmm you're right... you're really hard." I ogle at how stiff he is, a sight I'm seeing for the first time.
James whimpers as I slowly sink back down onto him. This time I go slow, taking long and steady strokes.
As I rock back and forth, James moans softly, crying out as I squeeze my inner walls around him. "Ohhhh baby! "He felt way bigger inside of me this time around. I've never felt him this hard before, and it was stretching me in ways I could hardly fathom.
I moan at the sweet feeling, smiling as I bounce up and down on his shaft, knowing how big it is despite not being able to see. James pants heavily, trying desperately not to cum too soon.
I could tell he wasn't used to feeling like this either; his muscles were tensed and he was a whimpering mess.
The sound of my wetness smacking against his groin was driving us crazy. With a heavy breath, I slam myself down onto his length, burying him deep.
James gasps out sharply, throwing his head back. His whole body jerks as his balls tighten and he shoots rope after rope of thick, white cum deep into my womb.
He yelps as he feels me cumming around him, the heat of my juices seeping outwards. We hold each other as we come down from our orgasmic high.
Our breathing is heavy and shallow, chests rising and falling rapidly. "I.. fuck... haven't been that hard since... fuck I don't know when..." he heaved.
I stare at his face, blushing profusely at how red it had gotten during his climax. James chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at himself.
James gently reaches for the base of his cock, carefully slipping it out as I immediately began oozing with cum. "That's it... look at that..." James groaned.
James grabbed his still throbbing cock and gave it a few more pumps, milking the rest of his cum from it. "Well look at that," he said, staring at the amount of cum he had produced.
A stream ran down his shaft and landed on his stomach, followed by another two drops which fell on his thigh. James moved closer to me, pressing his lips against mine.
I smile, gazing down at the huge load of sperm he had shot inside of me. He brought his fingers up to my mouth, placing them there for me to taste. My eyes widened as I tasted his potent seed.
It was warm and salty, lingering on my tongue for a moment before disappearing down my throat.
James smiled widely as he watched me swallow every drop.
“Fuck… the things you do to me…”
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ssentimentals · 1 day
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seventeen members as love tropes: kwon soonyoung
love at first sight (or meet cute au)
'did you hear wedding bells ring? cause that's what i heard when i saw you'
it wasn't supposed to happen. hoshi knew better but he's been sitting at the hotel whole day and boredom clung to his whole body like that stupid fly on the ceiling that refused to budge no matter how many pillows you threw her way. and he knows that it's all for his own safety, knows that fans went ballistic since they learned he landed in this city and he knows that his managers actually want only the best for him. it's just their version of best for him is basically imprisoning him in the hotel and hoshi's version of best for him is letting him roam around the city unguarded. so yes, him walking out of the hotel unsupervised was not supposed to him but oh well, it's too late to think about it now that he's hiding in the very first shop he saw on his way, running away from overly excited fans.
said shop turned out to be a small coffee shop in a ghibli movie characters theme. it's cute, hoshi notes from his position behind the counter. he climbed here the second he entered, quickly realizing that hiding under the tables will not help him. there's no one in the cafe and he has half a mind to call someone from staff when door from his left opens and a person walks in. hoshi instantly shoots up, apologies on his tongue when you finally look up and- oh.
not many things can leave hoshi speechless; he's been in this business for such a long time that it feels like he's seen it all, even some stuff that he wishes he could un-see. he's very used to perfect faces, perfect settings, perfect speeches - he's been trained to know what to say in any situations but right now he's at loss. you are so-
'what the hell you are doing standing behind the counter?!'
-rude. yeah. blinking, he snaps back to reality instead of getting lost in your eyes. it's almost five and sun dances beautifully on your face, it illuminates all your features with an orange glow and he wishes he had a camera with him because whoa.
'i'm gonna call police if you don't step back.' there's slight tremor in your voice but you still try to look confident. 'how did you even-'
'door was open!' hoshia blurts out in his defense, belatedly realizing that this is not a good excuse for hiding behind the counter, where only staff members can go. 'i had to hide, i'm so sorry, but they would've spot me if i chose just take any table.'
your face is very expressive. miriads of emotions change themselves until you settle on confusion. 'hide from who- oh my god, are you a gang member?'
'i-what-' hoshi sputters, looking himself up and down. does he look like a gang member? 'no, i'm- uh, a singer. popular one.'
hoshi is not sure why he added the last bit but it's too late to take it back now. your gaze focuses on his face and he takes this time to study you too. it's hard to pinpoint why, but there's something so interesting and fascinating about you (apart from you generally being really, really pretty). like hoshi could stare at you all day and not get bored, could see you as his muse even.
'okay,' you exhale, looking very done. 'okay. you are a singer. a popular one. hiding from..fans, i presume?' hoshi nods. 'okay. that still doesn't mean that you can stand here.'
hoshi moves like a lightning, quickly jumping to the other side. you're not wearing any badge with a name and he suddenly really needs to know your name. 'sorry again. uh-' he looks around, trying to keep the conversation going. 'can i get one ice americano, please? name is soonyoung, by the way.'
you look... amused. baffled. shocked. hoshi likes how he can pull out so many emotions from you but he is yet to see you smile and that makes him sad. 'okay, soonyoung. one ice americano coming right up, anything else?'
'your name,' hoshi says, beaming, not caring how awfully cheesy that sounded. he goes for a killer: 'i can't keep callling you 'pretty girl' in my mind.'
and there you go, there's your smile. it sets fireworks in his chest and his grin broadens. you look much better with that smile on your face, he decides and proceeds to tell you this loudly as well.
'thank you,' you say, blushing but also laughing.
you don't say your name but laughter is good, hoshi decides. laughter is almost love, no? it can start with a laughter, he is sure. his mind conjures thousands of pick up lines that can you make laugh and maybe, just maybe, if he makes you laugh often enough you'll tell him your name. and then he can get your number and then he can facetime you from whenever and will always be able to look at your pretty face. now that's a solid plan in hoshi's mind and he's never happier for not listening to his managers and running away from the fans because meeting you is worth it ten times over.
a/n: and i finished my 'seventeen members as love tropes' series with hoshi! hope you liked it, let me know! - nini
my other seventeen works are here
my formula 1 works are here
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joeyalohadream · 8 hours
Note
Hi me again.
I saw your post about how you received a negative anon message and was hoping you didn’t mean me? I sent you an ask about how much I loved your clegan childhood best friends idea (like literally can’t stop thinking about it) and just suggested that you could give the idea to another great writer in the fandom. I think it’s just as cool to be the idea maker sometimes and I wasnt insulting you.
I really do love your writing but you do take a long time to post new stuff and that particular idea is just everything to me so I don’t want it to be in limbo.
like you posted a bit of an angsty story the other day and got people excited and now you haven’t mentioned it again. Just don’t want that to happen to the childhood story cause it’s such a good idea.
sorry for rambling I just had to come back and say sorry if I’m the anon that made you feel bad. Wasn’t my intention..
Sorry everyone that reads this but I'm taking some of Swifty's backbone for a minute and answering a negative anon. Hiding my response below the cut so you can scroll past without seeing my drama if you'd like...
---
Of course it was your message that I was referring to.
In this fandom, full of the most wonderfully kind people I've ever interacted with, your message was the only negative one I've ever received. The fact that you could send that message, and now this one and somehow not understand that you're being incredibly hurtful is beyond me.
I wasn't going to respond to this message at all, just like I didn't respond to the first one you sent (just flat out deleted that one), but someone posted about my 'childhood friends au' today and brought it all back.
I checked out library books for research for that story and wrote the most detailed outline of any story I've ever thought up. And after your message, I returned the books and scrapped the story because you made me feel like garbage.
You flat out told me to give my idea to a specific writer in the Mota fandom that would 'turn it into a masterpiece'. You and I can agree on the fact that the writer you mentioned is one of the most talented fanfic writers around. They are. But to be so blatantly rude to me about my own writing and to call it 'advice'? Come on. You have to know you're being an asshole.
I'm a kind person. I'm also sensitive and hate confrontation and it even makes my stomach hurt to respond to this message because I don't like being unkind to ANYONE. I work two jobs. I work 60 hours a week most weeks. The fact that I find time to write anything is something I'm proud of and you calling me 'inconsistent' is just absolutely unempathetic.
Since you keep choosing to remain anonymous, this is the only way I can know I reach you to tell you this:
If you follow me, unfollow me. Don't interact with my posts. Don't read my stories. And stay the hell out of my inbox.
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cher-rei · 2 days
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Can I request a Jamal fic where the reader is his girlfriend but she’s an interviewer and she’s tasked to interview him and he tries to distract her and make her laugh the whole time when she’s supposed to stay professional.
man of the match– jamal musiala [ J.M ]
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I thought that I was dreaming, when you said you loved me [ivy— frank ocean]
pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader
summary: composure on camera?? what even it that?
genre(s): fluff
[w.c: 806] masterlist
notes: I wrote this in like 30 minutes help
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the stadium's thunderous applause enveloped jamal as he accepted his man of the match trophy, his eyes shining with pride. you, with your mic in hand, stepped forward, professional smile faltering for a moment when your eyes met.
this wasn't the first time that you were tasked to interview your boyfriend, and it definitely won't be the last. but whenever you caught him on the pitch for a quick word for the camera, he couldn't stop the smile that crept onto his lips. it was just another reason to tease you, and he found it difficult to not lose himself in your eyes.
and today wasn't any different.
“jamal, congratulations on an incredible performance! would you care to take us through your thoughts on today's match?” you asked, your voice carrying over the din and for a moment he didn't answer.
he just stood there, trophy in hand with a smile that was all too contagious for your liking. it was as if he was mapping your features that he's more than familiar with, but he would never get sick of it. his dazed gaze travelled from your glistening eyes, to your flush cheeks under the stadium lights.
when you realized what was happening you cleared your throat and kicked his leg, thankful that it was out of frame. he jolted up, recollecting his thoughts with a bashful laugh.
“thank you! I think the team played amazingly. and I'm not just saying that because i got the award today,” he chuckled and you felt your smile deepening with a fond warmness.
as you continued with the questioning, jamal's mischief began to surface. he playfully examined the award, pretending to admire his reflection in the it's shiny surface.
“do you think I should get a haircut? this trophy makes my hair look weird,” he joked, running a hand through his locks.
you blinked up at him for a moment, a confused hum leaving your lips as you looked back to the camera but when you looked back at jamal, he was gesturing the award in your direction— your reflection clearly showing, which made him coo in awe.
your eyes sparkled, lips twitching but you had to remain composed. “j, focus please.”
the footballer feigned innocence, putting a hand on his chest in mock offense. “what? I'm just making sure that I look good for the cameras.”
the surrounding cameramen and interviewers couldn't help but laugh at his charming response, and your composure began to slip.
you sighed. “okay, let's try again. what was going through your mind during that stunning goal?”
jamal's expression turned thoughtful, but only for a moment, which gave you hope thay you'd get a proper answer this time around. “actually, I was thinking that you were going to kill me if I don't give you a good interview.”
your face flushed and your eyes darted around the stadium before returning to your boyfriend was visibly pleased with how riled up he was getting you. he wasn't going to hear the end of it on the ride home but he didn't care because what did you expect?
“you're impossible,” you muttered, causing the nearby operators and journalists to snicker, drawn in by the lighthearted banter.
you had to continue though, regardless of jamal's unseriousness. “and what about the team's strategy for the next match?”
jamal leaned in at the question,conspiratorial whisper escaping his lips. “I'll tell you a secret. we're going to…” he leaned in, pausing ever so subtly which had you leaning in out of genuine curiosity, his answer exciting you. “...play really well!”
this boy.
the crowd erupted into laughter, and you playfully rolled your eyes. “thanks jamal, that was really enlightening.”
as the interview concluded, you did get a few good answers and comments out of him and he handed you his award, his fingers brushing against yours. “hold this for me please, love. I need to get my phone out.”
your heart leapt at the term of endearment that he nonchalantly let slip, the flush on your cheeks earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was more than delighted you have you this shy in public.
still, jamal wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer for the picture. there was nothing to do but oblige, so you held the award close and smiled warmly. the camera flash from the photographers went off as well to illuminated your beaming smiles as you posted together.
your laughter lingered, along with his arm around your waist. the stadium was captivated with the chemistry between the two of you, a comfortable atmosphere settling around the two of you as you went though the pictures.
when everything was over you hopped onto your tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss onto your boyfriend's cheek. “well done, baby. you were amazing today.”
it was jamal's turn to be a blushing mess, his legs nearly giving in on him at the sudden affectionate gesture. you clapped your hands in triumph, turning quickly to look at the cameramen in front of you.
“yes! did you get that on camera?”
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Text
A lot of things that seemed weird to me about the current culture of reading and writing became more clear to me when I realized that an awful lot of people are perceiving both reading and writing as tools to get at the thing they actually want, which is a good story. That's why they think it makes sense to read by skimming past dense text and only focusing on dialogue -- that's a "hack" that will get you access to The Story in a mostly comprehensible form, so why not save yourself time and work? It's why people set up speed-reading challenges, because why not consume ten stories instead of five -- that's more! And it's why people, or this type of person anyway, are excited about AI tools that outsource the labor of turning an idea (the concept of a plan, if you will...) into A Story. A Story is the goal for these people, on either the production or consumption end. Generate story, transmit story to audience, rinse, repeat. Whatever makes that process easier, more efficient, and yeah, more accessible is definitionally an improvement.
I don't think people who are this kind of reader or writer (it just took everything I had not to put "reader" and "writer" in quotation marks -- I'm really trying to be fair-minded here!) actually understand the experience the rest of us are having with reading and writing. Taking in a good story can be -- I'd say usually is -- *part* of that experience, but we're also engaging with text in other ways at the same time. We're mining it for types of meaning that extend beyond the story (all those dreaded Themes and Symbols that your mean English teacher banged on about!) We're reading those long paragraphs for the artistry of them, for the musicality, for aesthetic pleasure. We're investigating not just *what happens in the story,* but who the storyteller is and what they're revealing to us about the way they perceive the world.
When we get frustrated about people "not reading it right," we're probably being obnoxious busybodies (you can, in fact, do whatever you want forever!), but we're not doing it because of the joy we get from looking down on other people. It's more like we're watching people be served a delicious roast chicken, and then cut a couple strips of skinless breast meat off the bird, throw the rest of it in the trash, and talk about how they're such foodies. You didn't even eat it! You barely touched the thing! There's so much waste. And it's even more appalling when the chef throws most of the dish out before it even leaves the kitchen.
So obviously I'm not framing this very neutrally, but like, it *has* all become a little easier to process in my head now that I understand what kind of meat the Booktok types are actually hungry for.
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f4iry-bell · 2 days
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏
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pairing: popula!jameson hawthorne x nerd/goodgirl!reader
summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.
warning: jamie being a slight jerk, very little. little over the top reader(?)
series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven (lmk if you want to be added!)
a/n: IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS WHOLE THING, YAY. a lot of jerk jamie in this fuc guys. sorry;(
word count: 1.5k
masterlist | series master list
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“Did you just take a picture of me?” The tone and how sharp it was so surprising to the two boys to her side, one with the camera, and one with a stupid smile.
“Maybe.” The boy who was holding the camera didn't take her frowned brows, and dagger throwing eyes at him seriously. No one really takes her seriously, most of the time she is just invisible but definitely not today.
“Delete it.” She demanded, taking a step closer.
“Aw, don't want others to see your pretty face?” The boy holding the camera teased her, and then turned to his green eyes friend with a stupid smirk.
“I said, delete it.” she demanded again, this time more serious and firm than before.
“Or what?”
“I'll sue you. I'll take you to court, but before that I would like to formally inform the student body for violating my privacy, and I'm pretty sure you'd be dealt with by the faculty.” She didn't blink once, she adjusted her glasses after ending her threat.
“Woah, now let's not go there, princess” the green-eyed boy took a step forward with his hands in front in defense. “We don't want trouble.”
“She's bluffing.” The idiot with the camera said.
“She's not.” The other guy said without taking his gaze away from her face. And he is right. She's not bluffing.
The idiot was looking at her face, scanning to see what the other guy was seeing. “Alright, I'll delete it. I was just taking random pictures of the campus anyway.”
She was waiting for him to do it, but he didn't do it, yet. “Do it, right now.”
“I'll delete it later.” He said.
“Delete it now, Cory.” The green-eyed spoke, she almost thought he was a decent guy. Almost, until he spoke again. “We don't want our front row princess to tell on us to her teacher, now do we?” His lips curved up to a stupid, irritating smirk.
Her face could have sworn it was hot as hell from all the anger if it was possible. Cory finally deleted it, and showed her. “There, happy now?”
She didn't reply, just turned and walked away from them. She could feel as though her skin was being burnt because she knew that a pair of beautiful green eyes was staring at her as she walked away.
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Two weeks have passed since this incident. Jameson has forgotten about it or so he thought, he did see her in class and think about how different she was that day from how she acts in class, she almost speaks to no one other than the professor to ask for doubts or questions. He wondered if she even has friends, with her introverted personality, and quick to try and sue anyone who would want to be friends with her? Or the real question is, does she want to be friends with anyone at all?
Yeah, she probably hates everyone. But why is it taking psychology? Maybe that's not her major, he wondered what her major would be. It's definitely not psychology, because he can't imagine her as a psychologist. Maybe she majors in business, but then again, why would she take psych?
Why are his thoughts filled with her and her life? She is no one. She is just some girl passing by, a girl who happened to be more than just what she shows. He knows that, Jameson knows how to read people. Even before his psychology classes, he was not as good as his brother but he is good, and he can read her, just a little more time with her, and he'll have a master degree on her.
The next couple days Jameson skipped psychology classes because he couldn't help but stare and observe her, it was getting ridiculous to the point that even Dean who sleeps in class noticed it. For two days Jameson spent psychology class hours on the rooftop, he has done this on Heights Country High, why not in Yale too? But today was different, the door’s latch was already open, and the door was about 4 inches open.
He pushes past the door and saw someone standing near the edge, at first he thought this was a suicide attempt, but the person was calm, quiet, looking everywhere with a notepad on one hand and a pen on the other. The person was a girl who wore her hair up in a ponytail, her skirt was moving in the direction of the wind, he knew who it was. He could never forget her back profile.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite front row princess.” He regretted speaking out of the blue because it scared her to the point she jerked up, she could have fallen.
“Fuck!” She yelped.
“You know how to curse?” He teased her.
“Yes, asshole. I’m not 2.” She rolled her eyes when she turned to see who it was.
He smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day where you'd skip classes. Or are you stalking me?”
“Last I checked, I was here first. So, are you stalking me?” she asked.
“I've been here for a couple days, princess. What are you doing here?” He answered and asked the question out of curiosity.
“What are you doing here?”
“You first.”
“No.”
“I'll figure it out on my own.” He said and started to observe, she was writing something down before he interrupted her. He can't figure it out, it's too vague, maybe if she gave her notepad he could get something.
She was quicker than him, she somehow figured that he was about to snatch her notepad from her, and was on her guard.
“Come on. How about we make a deal, yeah? You tell me why you are skipping class and hanging out with yourself on the rooftop, and I'll owe you one.” He tried.
“How do I know that you'd actually keep your word?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.
“A Hawthorne never not keep his word.” He said it out proudly. Something to be proud of from that name.
“Right, you're a Hawthorne.” She added. “Why are you so determined to know why I'm here? You get nothing out of it, and yet you're saying you'll owe me one.” She was questioning whether or not to agree to this deal. Having Jameson Hawthorne owe you one is a vid deal.
“I'm a man of mysteries. I also tend to like mysteries. And you, princess? One hell of a mystery. I figured that much two weeks ago when you threatened to sue my friend.” He smiled, taking a step closer. “So? What do you say? Deal?” He asked.
She sighed. “For my journalism class, I have to write about something new…something that is ‘not in my bubble’ as my professor worded it, hence the rooftop.”
Jameson’s face was pulled together in confusion. “Still a bit vague. Are you going to try to fly?”
She rolled her eyes which made him smile. “No. Just looking at people from a different perspective. I don't think I can go out of my bubble but I can always observe people from different angles and be them for a while to write a different story. Sounds a bit stupid but it'll work. And I'll get an A.”
Jameson noticed how her eyes sparkled when she said ‘I'll get an A.” It made him smile even wider.
“That's still not doing what your professor asked.” He pointed it out.
“But it's not the same repetitive story as before. It's new, so.” She shrugged.
Jameson was quiet for a while. “You said you can't go out of your bubble. Is it can't or won't?”
She just glared at him as if he lied about something. Ironically he only told the truth.
“See? You don't even try, and say you can't.”
“It's not easy for me, okay? If I do new things out of the blue, people will stare at me, look at me weirdly or bully me too. I can't just step out of my bubble like that. Even if people are nice, it's me. I'm awkward, and just stupid when it comes to socialising or anything that's not just academics, and some extracurriculars that I do.” She let out a quick sigh before shaking her head.
“So stupid. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” She murmured.
Jameson was quiet for a few seconds. “I'll tell you what. I said I owe you one, right? How about this; I help you get out of your bubble. I'll help you socialise and all that stuff, stuff that are not you. I'll help you with them.”
“When you owe someone it's up to them to decide what it is.” She said with a little sass.
“I know, princess. But think about it. It's a good one. I'm just suggesting, it's up to you.” He took another step, now only two feet away from her with his hands extended in front. “Deal?”
She bit her lips out of frustration.
Jameson chuckled. “Take it or leave it. Don't need to kill yourself over it.” But he wanted her to take it, so bad.
She let go of her bottom lips, and relaxed her shoulders. She passed the pen to the other hand, holding both the notepad and pen in one, she spoke “deal.”
Her soft palm met his and shook gently. The touch shouldn't have sent goosebumps to Jameson but it did.
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"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"
In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"
"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."
Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.
"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.
"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.
A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.
"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."
"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."
Susie kissed her huband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.
"And I love you," said Susie.
Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.
Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"
Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.
"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.
"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.
Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."
There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.
"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."
"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.
"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.
And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.
"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.
"I know."
"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.
"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.
Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"
Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"We were always together... in our dreams."
"We were?"
"We were."
"Hobbes?"
"Yeah, old buddy?"
"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."
"Me too, Calvin. Me too."
"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.
"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.
"Can I come in?" Susie asked.
"Just a minute."
Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..."
"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.
Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."
Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you."
Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.
"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."
Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."
Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age."
Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."
Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tommorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."
Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"
Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."
"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.
Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."
Francis leaned closer to Clavin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."
Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."
"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.
"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.
"Okay!" Francis shouted back.
"Take good care of him." Calvin said.
"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.
Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."
Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.
Credit to Redditor samuraitiger19
His reply to the comments there 10 years ago
EDIT: Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people.
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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days
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3.171 Happy birthday to ya
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When it got closer to party time, Sophia and I moved the couch to the backyard for more seating options. Our parties always end up fragmented with some sims eating in the house and others on the patio. My goal is to keep everyone together, so hopefully this will help. We also moved the picnic blanket and put the portable crib outside to accommodate the little ones. Because we're friendly again, I invited Yasmine and her girls, but she declined. She doesn't know the other guests and didn't want anyone asking questions about Stacey. I completely understood but feel bad for her. This spellcaster business has really trapped her and the girls in their home.
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Apart from my baby aging up, I'm most excited about having Dub and his family in our home for the first time. Between the deaths and parenthood, it's been super hard for us to connect lately. I guess I was naïve enough to believe it would be easier being in the same city, but life keeps proving it doesn't matter where we are. Life is going to life, and that's that. I suppose I'll have to be more intentional about hanging with him too.
"You got it smelling good out here, bro," a voice says from behind me.
That Henford accent is unmistakable, and I was so glad to hear it. I turned around and embraced him.
"Wassup, man! Did you find us okay? Welcome! Finally!"
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"Right? Took you long enough!"
"Don't even play, man. You know how life is sometimes."
"Sure do. This house is nice! And the view!"
"Thanks. If you're able to stick around later, I'll give you the tour. Hey, where's Maia? Is she coming?"
"Yeah, she's running a little late. She's just finishing up a project for a client."
"Ahhh. See? San Sequoia has been good to you already. I'm glad her business is picking up."
There's no way Dub showed up alone, so I looked around for Tambara, knowing she couldn't be too far behind. I spotted her toddling across the yard, trying her best to catch up with her daddy.
"She's getting to be extremely independent these days," Dub said when he realized I was watching her. "She won't even let us pick her up anymore. I don't mind that so much, but waiting for her really slows me down."
"She'll get faster," I said, thinking about Desiree's determination. "Just give her time."
Tami and Desi look nothing alike, but I see glimpses of the immediate future in her proud face and wobbly gait. I want Desi to grow up and change the world, but I can't part with my little girl. At the same time, I'm anxious to see her continue to grow. I love watching her smash these milestones like the boss baby she is. Ugh. Fatherhood is just a melting pot of contradictions. How can I be happy and sad, proud and scared at the same time?
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Tami finally made her way over to us, so I waved.
"Hey there! Do you remember me? I'm Luca. That's a pretty dress."
Her face lit up, and I knew it didn't matter if she remembered me or not. I was currently her new bestie. Flattery works at all ages, hee hee.
"What do you say when someone gives you a compliment?" Dub asked.
"I know," she shouted.
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Me and Dub had a good laugh. She's so precocious, and I love it. Kids really do say the darndest things, and I can't wait to hear what Desi will have to say. Hopefully that's not a be careful what you wish for situation, heh.
"That's right, Tam," I said. "You better know it."
"How are you holding up?" Dub asked, wiping the smile off my face.
"I'm good. As good as I can be, rather. It gets a little better every day."
"I'm glad to hear it. I can't even think about what that's going to be like."
"It might sound morbid, but you should start thinking about it, man. It's the shock that's hard to get over."
"You play dollies with me," Tambara shouts.
That was probably supposed to be a question, but she's too excited about her new, big friend and it's too cute.
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"Oh, no," Dub says to me. "You start that and she'll never let you go."
She's adorable, looking just like both of them. I hope she and Desi will like each other. It'll be a shame to have them fighting or snubbing each other when we hang out.
"You can play with Desiree later, okay?" he says.
"Speaking of... We should probably get this show on the road soon. Let me finish these ribs."
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(makeovers and family photos below!)
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Dub and fam by @mysimsloveaffair
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🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷
I'm just getting too excited reading the snippets
Thank you! Damn 186 for 🦷:
---
“Dad, can I tell you something?” Chris asks, with a little sigh, like he’s having to break something very simply down to a child.
“Uh, of course, Chris.”
“I only have one day left of being smarter than you, so I should maybe give you advice.”
“Wait, what?” Eddie asks. 
“Because I still have my wisdom teeth,” Chris explains.
Right, Eddie. Keep up. 
“That’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “It’s all downhill after today. Your brain will turn to mush.”
Chris rolls his eyes. 
“I’m just saying,” Chris presses. “I’m more wise than you still. So listen to me.”
There’s something really serious in his tone, so Eddie stops joking. 
“Okay,” he says. 
“The first person you said who made you feel comforted was Buck. Twice. That means something, Dad. I think you’re used to feeling bad and you don’t know how to do things that make you feel good.”
Eddie feels like he’s been struck. Not for the first time today. 
“So, you think I should try something different, huh?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over tears just a little. 
Chris nods. “Yep. I think whatever the opposite of what Grandma and Abuelo would say is what you should do, probably.”
Well, that’s an idea. That logic carried him from El Paso to Los Angeles. Kept him here despite their pressure for him to return. That logic wrote Buck’s name in his will instead of theirs. And none of those things have been decisions that Eddie regrets. 
“That…” Eddie exhales. “That might be really good advice.”
“Because of my wisdom teeth,” Chris says.
Eddie smiles. “Yeah, buddy. Because of your wisdom teeth, for sure.”
iv.
Buck ends up coming with them to Christopher’s surgery appointment. Eddie didn’t ask. He just sort of shows up in the morning, assuming Eddie would want someone to sit with him. He’s right, of course. Eddie knows it’s just dental surgery and comes with very little risk, but Eddie absolutely wants company. Buck’s company. 
They sit side-by-side in waiting room chairs, clutching paper cups of coffee, during the surgery. They’re the only people in the room. Eddie can hear a clock ticking. There’s a television playing the news silently. Eddie’s leg is tapping.
“Hey,” Buck says gently, hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s going to be totally fine.”
“Yeah, I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a simple procedure. That’s… That’s not why I’m nervous.”
Buck frowns. “Why are you nervous, then?”
Well, great question. Not one Eddie really wants to answer. 
“Uh…” Eddie struggles. His throat feels very dry. He takes another sip of coffee before answering. “I have… Well, I had a sort of crazy conversation with Christopher yesterday while grocery shopping.”
“This is why you shouldn’t grocery shop without me,” Buck says, kissing his teeth chidingly. “Always ends in chaos.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I can remember grocery store chaos caused by you. And uh, it was actually a good conversation.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah.”
“What was it about?” Buck asks, leading the conversation because he can see Eddie is too nervous to just do it himself. 
“Uh, a lot of things,” Eddie says. “But I ended up sort of… Well, I came out to him.”
Buck’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins. “Eddie, that’s amazing! How did he take it?”
“Good,” Eddie nods. “He… Yeah, he was great.”
“Ah, man. I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was weighing on you.”
“It was,” Eddie agrees quietly.
“So, then… Why are you nervous?”
Eddie takes a deep breath. Here it goes.
“Well, Chris is a smart kid, you know?”
“Of course,” Buck replies, still confused. 
“It didn’t take him very long to ask if this meant I’m in love with you.”
Buck’s expression goes completely still. His eyes get big. Wide. Anxious. 
“Uh, wh-what… What did you tell him?” Buck stammers. 
“That I do,” Eddie whispers. His eyes flicker to the floor. He almost doesn’t want to see Buck’s reaction. 
“Oh,” Buck exhales. “And, uh… He-he was okay with that?”
Eddie nods. “Pretty much told me not to be stupid and do something about it.”
“Is that what this is?” Buck asks. 
Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “Not enough for you?” 
“It doesn’t hurt to be given roses or something,” Buck smirks. “A string of pearls even.”
“Well, we’re in the waiting room of a dental surgery clinic. So I can offer you…” Eddie looks around the room. “An issue of USA Today from four months ago.”
“I’ve always wanted that,” Buck says. “I just need to know about Ben and Jennifer. Do you think they’re going to make it this time?”
“I have bad news,” Eddie tells him.
Buck smiles. His eyes crinkle a little. Eddie’s not sure if they did that, back when they met. Eddie thinks, somehow, he just keeps getting more and more beautiful with every year that he knows him. He’s sitting right beside him now, all loose curls and twinkling eyes. And Eddie realizes he’s so fucking lucky. Because as nervous as he is right now, he’s not uncertain. He knows. He knows this beautiful, kind, unbelievably generous, and not nearly as funny as he thinks man loves him back. 
“I still don’t understand why you’re nervous,” Buck says softly. “Eddie, you have to know…”
“I know,” Eddie replies quickly. 
“I love you, too,” Buck says. “Like… Obviously.”
Eddie smiles. “I thought so… I just…” 
“What?” Buck asks gently. 
Fuck. Eddie doesn’t really know how to explain. 
“My son sort of psychoanalyzed me,” Eddie blurts. “And, uh… And the conclusion was… He thinks maybe I don’t make decisions that are good for me because I’m used to feeling bad.”
Buck’s jaw drops. “Chris said that?”
“Yeah, I think my parents kind of messed him up in a different way from what I did.” Eddie admits. 
“He’s not messed up, Eddie. Just hurt. That’s all.”
“See?” Eddie says. “See, it’s that. He’s right. It’s like my brain is sort of wired for guilt, and… And I don’t want it to be. I just, I’m scared I’ll screw it up with you, too.”
Buck nods, thinking. He takes a good moment to contemplate.
“Okay,” he eventually sighs. “Okay, well then I won’t let you.”
Eddie sighs. “What?”
“Yeah, I just won’t,” Buck presses. “I’m good at that. I think Bobby and I are the only people you listen to.”
Because they’re the only people close enough to Eddie to know what he wants and have his best interest at heart. They always have. 
“Buck, it’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is,” Buck replies, turning in the seat a little so his knees are pressing into Eddie. “I-I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have brought this up at all if you didn’t want me to talk you into it.”
Eddie opens his mouth to object. That’s just… 
Okay, it’s completely true. He does that, doesn’t he? Waits until he’s ready for Buck to give him permission to do right by himself. He always has. 
Wow.
“We know each other better than anyone,” Buck says. “We won’t let each other be idiots.”
And that’s… Well, that’s true, too. Eddie has always been able to talk Buck down from letting things get out of hand. From spiraling. From making every problem on earth his problem. So… So maybe Buck is right. 
“Promise?” Eddie asks. 
Buck grabs his hand. “I promise.”
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lil-frenchfri77 · 3 days
Text
Begin Again Chapter 2
Summary: Ever since Bella came back to Forks things between y/n and her boys have been different. Embry and Quil stopped answering phone calls and texts, they’ve even been avoiding her everytime she shows up at their house. So y/n does the only thing she can think to do, she latches onto Jacob just like Bella, and when he starts acting like Embry and Quil did, she makes the decision to not put so much effort into a friendship that is clearly one sided. But what happens one day when Sam’s pack is in town at the same time as y/n and her new friends and two certain boys imprint on their former best friend? And what happens when a former best friend doesn’t feel the same way?
Authors note: Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!! I am actually so freaking excited that so many people liked the first chapter. When I posted this I never thought that I would be getting any kind of traction or reads but the 20 people that liked my first chapter are really making me feel good about myself and my writing skills. I don't know how consistent my chapter updating will be I have a really hard time with sticking to things but the enthusiasm i'm feeling after posting for the first time is really making my productivity flow.
Not beta read, lemme know If there are any egregious spelling or grammar errors and I will 100% go back and fix it
Word count: 1.8k
Embry Call x Fem!Swan!Reader x Quil Ateara
Slight Stiles Stlinski x Reader
Chapter 1 | Master list | Chapter 3
For the next two weeks your routine is almost exactly the same. You meet Scott and Stiles by your locker every morning and sit with their friends at lunch. It is such a crazy thing to think that if you had gotten to school any later that day then you would have never met them. And looking back, you can’t imagine not being friends with them now. They were filling the void that Embry and Quil had left in your heart. 
Your life was looking up and you were doing great, even Bella seemed to be doing better. She was hanging out with you and Jacob, and had even started going out with some of the kids from school. You and Stiles were getting closer to each other too. You spent most of your time in class, the ones you shared, talking to him and goofing off. You both had gotten in trouble a few times but that didn't deter you from talking. Like now. 
“Hey, so I was thinking about going into town this weekend, I need to do some clothes shopping and I was wondering, if perhaps, you’re free?” You had been meaning to ask him for the past few days but you had only now just worked up the courage. It was the first time you would be spending any time together outside of school and you were nervous. 
“Oh, uhh. Yeah totally!” His response was almost instant and the way that his cheeks turned a light pink told you that he didn't mean to answer you that fast. “Um, I mean, Yeah. I’m down to go with you.” Stiles blushed even harder and then turned forward to pay attention to what the teacher was saying. 
“Okay, cool. I’ll come pick you up around noon on Saturday?” 
“That’s good.” That was the end of the conversation. It seemed he was too caught up in the fact that you had asked him out to remember to talk to you for the rest of class. 
After school that day Jacob was leaning on your car, waiting for you to come out. He had been doing this a lot lately, waiting for you to get out of school so he could get a ride from you back to the reservation. Which didn’t really make sense to you but you figured if he liked doing this then why change it. 
“You will never guess what I did today.” It was the first thing that came out of your mouth when you got close enough to him. You couldn't wait to tell him about your hang out with Stiles on Saturday. “I asked Stiles on a date and he said yes!” You couldn't contain your excitement.  It was too hard to give him the time to guess what you did so you decided to just tell him. 
“Wow, that's a big step for you.” Jacob smiled, glad to see you happy. He knew that after the last few months you had that you deserved all the happiness you could get. “When are you going? Your sister asked me to go to the movies with her and this Mike guy on Sunday night and I really don't want to have to deal with it all alone.” 
“Well, we’re hanging out Saturday afternoon so I'm totally free to go with you guys on Sunday.” Jacob had had a crush on Bella for as long as you could remember, but you knew that he didn't want to be stuck in an awkward situation with her and some other guy. 
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“Sooooo?” Stiles drawled, “what exactly are we looking for? Or what exactly are you looking for?” You two had been out for about 2 hours now and so far all you had found was a puffy green jacket and a pair of fluffy brown socks, which you only bought because they matched Stiles eyes. 
“I don’t know yet. I guess I'll know when I see it.” Your reply was nonchalant but you knew exactly what you were looking for. You just didn't want to let him know before you actually found it. Last week when you and your dad were in town you had seen a book that Stiles had been talking about religiously and with his birthday coming up you thought it would be the perfect gift. 
“Do you want to grab lunch too or do you want to just eat at my house?” you ask him, not seeing the way he turns to look at you with heart eyes. 
“We can go to the diner after you're done shopping.” He suggests. 
“Yea totally.” 
That’s when you heard it, the loud rumble of laughter from a group of boys at the other end of the street. You both looked up to where the noise came from. A slight gasp came from your parted lips as you saw Quil and Embry play fighting with the other boys from Sam’s group. Your face dropped as the two boys seemed to look up in unison and lock eyes with you. 
“Do you know them? They look like they know you.” Stiles asked, looking over at you to see you in some kind of trance staring at them. “Hey, y/n/n? Are you okay?” 
That seemed to snap you out of whatever daze you were stuck in. You looked away from them and back to Stiles before nodding and grabbing his hand to drag him into the nearest building. Which happened to be the bookstore you were looking for in the first place. 
“Sorry about that, they were just some old friends of mine. We don't really talk anymore and I haven’t seen them in some time so it was kind of shocking.” The apology spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it but that make it untrue. It was hard seeing them like that, happy and having fun when they left you feeling the way that they did. But you also couldn't help feeling a sort of resentment at them. 
“Nah it’s alright.” He dismissed taking a look around the bookstore. You had completely forgotten why you were in this store for a second, but when you remembered you had to hurry and spot the book before he could. 
Luckily you were able to find it and discreetly buy it while he looked around the store and grabbed a few things off the shelfs. When he was done checking out you slipped your hand into his, locked fingers, and led him out of the store. 
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They had never felt like this before. As they locked eyes with you they saw their future flash before their eyes. You, Embry, Quil, and a happy little family. The euphoria and sense of calm that washed over them as they saw all of this was the most exquisite feeling either of the boys had ever felt. It was like nothing they had ever experienced and they had an inkling that they would never feel it again without you. 
When they watched you grab that boy's hand and run off it was like their entire world came crashing down. Their hearts, now beating in unison, felt like they were cracking. Before they could ever have you, you were gone and with someone else. Embry looked away first, face crumbling under the weight of these newfound emotions. He had never felt anything so fast, and to have it all ripped away from him so suddenly felt like a knife right into his soul. 
Quill was no better. The two boys had always shared everything growing up, they were the closest to each other of all the pack members. So it made sense that they would imprint on the same girl. And of course that girl would be their childhood best friend. The same girl they pinned after for years before turning for the first time and never speaking to her again. It was the hardest thing they ever had to do, and now, because of their actions, they were reaping the consequences. 
The dejection and rejection they were feeling was amplified by each other, every emotion coursing through their veins heightened by what the other was feeling. They wanted to whine and curl up into a ball at your feet and beg you to forgive them for the rest of their lives if that's what it took to make it up to you. 
It seemed as though the other boys around them knew not to say anything. No teasing remarks or mocking jabs were taken at the expense of the boys. All of them could sense that Embry and Quil had just imprinted on you. Everyone saw the way that you ran off like the sight of them would burn you if you looked for too long. 
“Come on, I think it’s time to head back.” it was Sam who spoke up. Always the one to take charge and take the lead in situations where no one knew what to do. But even now, he was struggling to find the right words to say or the right actions to take that could help these boys. He had never heard of an imprintee rejecting their mate. 
“No, but, we should go talk to her.” Embry whined out. Just the thought of leaving you behind after just finding out that he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with you sounded like agony. He would rather never be able to shift again than leave without you. 
“I think it's pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk to either of you right now. Give it time. Think about how you want to approach her, what you’ll say. Right now is not the time or place for any of this, especially after that reaction.” Sam reasoned. He knew that getting everyone back to the pack house right now was his only option. He couldn't let Quil or Embry do something stupid and impulsive that could put people in danger. 
Everyone could see the way that the two boys hesitated to do what Sam asked. The longing and desire to be with you, so present in their eyes that they were waiting for something to happen. So Sam did the only reasonable thing he could think to do in that moment, and he commanded everyone to head back to the pack house at that instant. 
Begrudgingly Embry and Quil did as they were told and turned around to head back to the house. Looking back every so often, while the shop you had disappeared into was still in sight, to see if they could catch another glimpse of you through the windows or see you leaving. Just as the shop was about to disappear from their view the door gently swung open and you walked out laughing, head thrown back and a hand on your stomach as you full body cackled at whatever the mystery boy you were with voiced. Said boy, who was holding your other hand as he exited the building after you.
It tore their hearts even further in two. So with their tails, real and figurative, tucked between their legs they made their way back. Heads hung low and spirits completely drained.
What had started out as a normal Saturday had officially become one of the worst days of their lives.
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dlnnylonmn · 1 day
Text
Long post ahead…
I have been wearing diapers 24/7 for more than 16 months now. That is not a long time but it’s been a little while. I love it.
Someone just asked me: I anticipate you might get this question a lot, but I'm experiencing lack of confidence/big shame regarding want/need to be consistently padded. What did you do to gain your confidence? What worked for you? What didn't? Just curious. Cheers!
My response:
I had to sit with the message to reflect on how to respond because this feelings of shame and the lack of confidence are strongly experienced when in diapers. And those feelings conflict with the feeling of always wanting to be in diapers. I hope my response is helpful and yet I fear it won’t provide you with the answers you are hoping for. Honestly, I think it helped that I embraced the shame and it brings me some excitement or joy now. How I did that and continue to do that is through the following steps:
-Identify and acknowledge what you want and the feelings it brings: It is powerful to say out loud, “I am a diaper boy. I wear my diapers 24/7.” (Just saying “my diapers” and “diaper boy” makes me feel excited and squirmy.) In addition, stating your feelings for wearing diapers and the contradictory or conflicting feelings that arise is important for me. I would even state how I feel out loud to myself. The identification empowered me.
-Reflect on the feelings: once I stated the feelings, I spent a lot of time thinking about why I feel that way and how does my body and/or mind respond to those feelings. This reflection happened in talking to myself and in journaling. This is a lot of internal q and a that can be done alone or with another. Stating that I feel nervous about being in diapers. Why do I feel nervous? I feel nervous because someone might discover I am in diapers. What would happen if someone saw your diapers? Well it depends on the person. Etc. Let yourself talk through it and think through the questions and your responses. Honestly that break down can make it a lot less scary and make the what if’s manageable. That can break down the stigma.
-Connect the feelings with something positive: for me, the shame I felt and the reflections I would state out loud created an excited feeling that brought me sexual desire and joy. The humiliation became a big turn on. I explored this with a Dom that talked with me a lot about the humiliation. That worked for me for a while. But it didn’t keep me in diapers. However, it established that desire to always find a positive connection with being in my diapers. Now, for me it’s the smooth feeling of the plastic, the relief of wetting and filling my diaper, the bliss of using a vibrating wand, the excitement I felt when I was in public and heard my diaper crinkle or felt my diaper bulging, etc. I also started liking the feeling and security of wearing plastic pants over my diapers so I started wearing them too. Taking stock of the positive feelings and associations reminded me that the benefits of wearing diapers 24/7 outweigh the challenges, at least for me.
-Talk with others about the feelings: Talking with others has been very helpful in some ways but I also realized that I became unhappy when I depended on others to explore process my feeling about diapers. Eventually, talking with others became something that did not help me and I needed to depend on other strategies.
-Hypnosis files: I found diaper hypnosis files on YouTube and on Reddit that I really enjoy using from time to time, whether it is when I sleep, when I am exercising, or when I am relaxing. Sometimes I would put in headphones and listen to a hypnosis file instead of music. That helped because they became mantras that helped my subconscious. I found it relaxing at times. But I found at other times I am not enjoying nor feeling relaxed by the hypnosis files, so I use them occasionally. These files tell you that you need diapers and I always will wear only diapers. There are a lot of variations that I like. My favorites are from HypnoCat (I even bought their files because I liked their voice and how they scripted the files; plus I wanted to support another ABDL putting something out there for the community). Honestly there are a lot of good files and choices on YouTube. Some of the field from other artists are more like stories that they guide you through, which are also enjoyable.
-Reading stories of others wearing diapers: I think it has really helped me to read stories about others in diapers. It reminds me I am not the only one and can help me process and reflect on my feelings. Plus, some of the stories can be very erotic and arousing. I enjoy ABDL stories from Tumblr, Nifty, Diaper-Bois, and even on my Kindle.
-Practice and time: The more I wear diapers, the less I experience negative emotions about being in diapers. It normalizes the experience and makes diapers part of your life and routine. This is important. Also, the more I wear diapers and get used to wetting anytime I feel the need, the less confident I feel that I could go without wearing diapers and not have an accident. Plus, the more practice you have at the daily life of using diapers, the less nervous I have felt, including preparing and carrying extra diapers and changing supplies, finding a place to change my diaper when out in public, changing in a busy public toilet, walking to a garbage can in view of others while you toss out your used diaper, going through TSA in a wet diaper, etc. There are so many new experiences that will initially make routine tasks fresh. That is exciting!
- Get the supplies that work for you: It is so important to figure out what you need to be healthy and feel your best wearing diapers. I like selecting the right diaper for what I am going to do and who I will be with (e.g. thicker diapers at night and dependable yet less bulky diapers during the day for work). I found that CeraVe moisturizing cream along with baby powder was important for my skin care and I use them for every change. I found that plastic pants that fit well over my diapers helps conceal smells and I wear them frequently. I have even started wearing onesies at times when it feels right.
Ultimately, the most important thing I ask myself time and time again is: do diapers make my life better? Since committing to wearing diapers 24/7, the answer every day is yes, diapers make my life better. Honestly, when I think of never wearing diapers or not wearing diapers at times, it makes me feel unhappy. Actually I now feel more stressed at the thought of not wearing diapers. I do have a need for my diapers and diapers make my life better. It is true that people may see me in my diapers for some reason. I have accepted that though I don’t want that to happen. If it happens, it happens. I will ask myself if it is worth it and if my life is better with or without diapers. So far, my life has always been better in diapers.
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