#at least the first part is. so. bad
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
happy birthday to rosy...... it's so funny how i posted this on a whim expecting like.. 50 notes and now its at 5k+ across all parts, oh yeah did i mention theres multiple parts and 30K WORDS?? literally crazy. thank you endlessly for the support, whether you've been here since the beginning, or found it this year, or anything in between 🩵🫶
rosy



더 깊이 빠져들겠지 더 조금씩 더 조금씩 넌...
you don't know how to give a hickey.. what are friends for if not to help each other with these things?
pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader
wc: 4.3k
content: nonidol au, fluff, not rly smut but suggestive (mdni pls), shy/inexperienced reader, hickeys (duh), reader is like slightly germophobic idk, a lot of teasing, no use of y/n
a/n: i am so delusional i need to bite this mans neck badly. and yes this is my username. yes it's the loona song. lol
[also read on ao3]
series — part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
—
God, you should have just kept your mouth shut.
“You don't know how to give a hickey?”
You shake your head and cover your face, hiding from Felix, who's sitting next to you on his bed.
“Wait, really? Like you've never even tried it on yourself?” he asks.
“No?! What, people actually do that?” Your hands lower slightly to reveal your eyes widening.
He breathes out a laugh and you hit his arm. “It's not funny!”
“It's kind of funny.”
“Shut up. I just— like— I never… whatever.” He poorly conceals a teasing smile. “Shut up or you're literally not getting any cinnamon rolls tomorrow. In fact, lemme ask Hannie if he wants your extras.” You pull out your phone.
Before you can do anything, Felix swiftly moves closer to you, his hand pushing yours down. “Whoa, whoa, hey.. that's a little drastic, yeah? Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? ..And your cinnamon rolls?” He smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you.
You grumble but drop the phone and shake his hand away, pursing your lips to fight a smile. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence.
…And then Felix ruins it.
“But you've kissed people before, right?”
You look at him incredulously. “Did I not say to shut up??” you shriek.
“Is that a no?” He giggles. He fucking giggles. You want to punch his pretty face.
“Lee Felix Yongbok I will smite you down right here where you stand if you don't—”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean, it's kind of like the same thing, you know?”
“The same as what? Giving a h-hickey?” You can't help but stutter a little.
“Yeah like it's… I'll show you.”
Felix suddenly moves so he's in front of you and gently grabs your arm. He'll show you?! Literally what. What the hell. You let out a small squeak and instinctively lean away from him.
“Relax, I just meant here,” he touches your arm. “Is that okay?”
You stare at him.
“...Or I could show it on myself but I thought it might be better to feel it? Or I don't have to do it at all of course,” he says quickly.
Oh. It takes a second but the gears in your head start slowly turning enough to respond.
“Oh.” Well, okay, that wasn't as much of a response as you meant to give.
Felix laughs softly and pulls his hand away from your arm. “Sorry, it's too weird, right? No worries.”
But wait, you're actually curious. And isn't it better to figure it out before you inevitably make a fool out of yourself in front of someone else? It makes you a bit nervous but… you're comfortable with Felix. “No, wait, you can uh... show me…?”
His eyebrows raise for a second but then he smiles. “You sure?”
You nod. You still feel a little dazed and you're not really cognizant enough to actually do anything but watch him as he moves closer again. Your arm must feel like a dead weight but he lifts it up and lowers his head, placing a chaste kiss on your inner wrist. “This okay? Usually you um... start with kissing.”
“O-Oh, okay, yeah..” you murmur. What is this sudden weird atmosphere? Maybe you're the only one feeling it. Felix doesn't seem too phased, but you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shit, can he feel your pulse right now? You really hope not.
He flashes a shy smile and places another kiss there, and another a little higher, and another, and it feels way too intimate and sends shivers up your spine. Slowly, he moves up your forearm, stopping right before your elbow.
“So… then.. you just wanna like... suck,” he says before doing just that, right below the crook of your elbow.
Oh. It feels weird. You must have made a noise or something because he looks up at you through dark lashes, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You swallow. What the actual hell is happening right now?
After holding excruciating eye contact for what feels like an eternity, he lets his eyes close. Thank god, because it was making your chest feel tight and weird. You continue to stare as he continues kissing and sucking at your arm, face absolutely burning at the strange sensation.
You've literally lost the freaking plot. You just sit there, no semblance of time passing. After about twenty seconds? Twenty minutes? It literally could have been either — he finally pulls away, with a final kiss and light drag of his teeth against your skin.
You hold your breath as he sits up and gently maneuvers your arm so you could see the fruits of his labor. He clears his throat. “Um, so… it's starting to show up. See?” he says a little breathlessly.
You nod, unsure what to say when your best friend literally just sucked a hickey onto your arm. A very platonic hickey. Okay. This is fine. This is totally normal right? It must be or he wouldn't have offered. ..Right? You stare down at the bruise starting to blossom on your arm and finally chance a glance at Felix, but he also has his head down, staring at your arm.
Suddenly as if on cue, his head jerks up. When he sees you looking at him he grins. “Cool, right? How does it feel?”
“Weird…” you mumble. How can he be so nonchalant about this? You want to strangle him.
He nods. “It might be a little sensitive for a bit.” He runs his fingers lightly over the reddening area and you immediately see what he means. It feels tender and tingly under his touch. You shiver. “So.. you think you get how to do it now?” he asks.
“Um… yeah, I mean, maybe?”
“Do you wanna try?”
“Try? What, on… on your arm?!”
A slight blush creeps up his face and he shrugs. “Sure, or wherever… my arm, or my neck since that's where it's usually…”
You feel your face heat up as well. “I…”
“I just thought, if you wanna like, practice? But of course you don't have to.” He looks away and shrugs again, seeming a little embarrassed for suggesting it.
You open and close your mouth over and over again like a fish. Like a stupid dumb fish who somehow got itself reeled into this crazy situation. But honestly, the more you think about it, the offer to practice is tempting. When would you get another opportunity like this? Probably never. And… you trust Felix more than anyone else.
“...Is it really okay?” you ask hesitantly.
Felix looks up, blinking a few times before smiling. “Of course. I mean, it's only fair since I did it on you,” he laughs softly. He seems happy but also a little surprised that you actually appeared to be agreeing to his offer. Honestly, you're surprised too.
“Right, um…” you mumble. You shuffle a little closer to him. His hand slides down from your elbow to your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. To reassure you, you think. It's a sweet gesture.
You lean in slightly towards his neck, deciding that if you do it here, you can hide your face from him and avoid any eye contact. “Um, can I...? Where should I…?”
You're so close to him. You can hear his breath catch a little before he points to the side of his neck with his free hand. “Around here,” he says, his voice somehow getting impossibly lower.
You swallow, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. As you lean in further you bite your lip, anxious. You need to break this tension somehow. You just can't do this right now. “Um.. um… do you wash your neck?” you blurt out.
Felix leans back a little. “Do I... do I wash my neck? That's what you're worried about?” he laughs.
“Some people probably don't!” you exclaim. Then you sigh. “Ugh, s-sorry, that's stupid, right? You literally licked my arm,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I just— I don't know. It feels icky. Germs.”
He hums. “You're not stupid.” A pause. “But, I can proudly say I do wash my neck.” He presses his lips together, clearly suppressing another laugh and you just know he's about to tease you. “Wow, how do you even kiss people if you're this worried about germs?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, leaning back into his neck a little to hide your face, your breath hot on his neck. He inhales sharply and seems surprised and, you think, a little panicked?
You instantly pull away. “Felix, are you sure?” You chew on your lip. Is this a bad idea after all?
“Yeah, I-I... yeah, of course,” he says, a little breathless, but you're not entirely convinced. You start to move away fully but he quickly grabs your arm again. “No.. no, wait. Please,” he whispers. You see him visibly try to relax, taking a deep breath in and out. “It's okay. I promise. I was just caught off guard.”
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“No, no, you're good, you're fine. It was me.” Felix clears his throat and rubs your arm reassuringly.
You take a deep breath. “Okay… so.. here?” You lean back in to where you were previously, breath hitting his neck.
He swallows, and you see it because his Adam's apple bobs up and down right in front of your face. What the fuck. “Yeah. Just go slow and… you can start with kissing if you want. Don't overthink it,” he mumbles, sounding more like he's reminding himself of something.
You nod and slowly, so slowly, you lean in the rest of the way and press your lips to his neck.
You expected him to remain still but a small breathy noise escapes him and he leans his head further back, exposing more of his neck in the process. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming under your lips. “Good... um.. yeah, just... kiss a little bit and then suck. You can use your tongue, too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can feel the vibrations against your lips when he speaks. What the fuck.
Your head feels fuzzy. You hesitantly place a kiss on his neck, and then another a little higher, and another, until you reach an area you're satisfied with. You almost want to pull away but remember Felix's words. Right. Just try not to overthink it…
He pulls a breath in through his teeth when you press an open-mouthed kiss and start sucking gently. At the same time, your tongue darts out almost automatically and touches his skin.
You feel him swallow thickly. “Y-You gotta… harder…” he murmurs. “Or it won't mark.”
You hesitate. “Won't it hurt?”
He blinks hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don't worry… I-I'll tell you if it hurts, okay? Just try. Do it like I did.”
You nod and take a deep breath before trying again, this time in earnest, sucking harder and pulling his skin between your lips and even past your teeth.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, his grip on your arm tightening, “Like... like that. And you can.. use your teeth a little too.” His voice is getting thick, low, and raspy and, god, you feel a little dizzy.
But you want to please him, so you bite down softly and let your teeth run over the area. A quiet, high-pitched whine escapes his lips, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, body jerking back slightly. He suddenly seems to realize the noise he made and looks at you, wide-eyed.
You pull back again, a little breathless. “D-Did it hurt?” You really didn't think you bit that hard, but you can't hide the worry in your voice.
His hand drops from his mouth, face flushed and breathing labored. His eyes look a little dialed out. “No... no, it didn't.. hurt.” It seems like it takes all his strength just to say that. “Sorry, I just...” he takes a few more seconds to gather himself, “Um, kinda sensitive…”
…Sensitive? Oh. Oh. It was good. He liked it. You almost sigh in relief. But then… wait. He's sensitive there. He… Your brain isn't working. You find yourself leaning back in to his neck without thinking.
Felix doesn’t protest, just sits back, exposing more of his neck to you. You feel his body shudder when you lightly drag your teeth over the area before attaching your mouth more firmly and sucking at his skin.
He can’t stop the whimper from leaving his throat. “That feels really good.. you’re doing good,” he pants.
Your heart swells from the praise and you double down on your efforts. You hear him try to suppress another whimper but it’s more strained this time. It happens again and again, little noises and whines that you're not sure if he's even aware he's making. Every noise pulls and tugs at something in your stomach.
It feels intimate, so insanely intimate and you think you might combust on the spot if you go any longer. It's a bit nerve-wracking to pull away and face Felix but you force yourself to, licking your lips as you retreat.
Your eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of you. A pretty, deep pink bruise begins to blossom on his neck and your heart skips a beat at the realization that you did that to him.
Felix hasn't said anything. Is he upset? You chance a glance at his face and—
Oh. His eyes are closed and a faint sheen of sweat coats his flushed face, which is pulled taught in a mixture of bliss and something like pain. His chest is heaving, breath coming out in quick gasps. You stare at him, the only thought in your mind being: God, he's gorgeous like this.
He blinks rapidly and seems to finally come to. When he finally refocuses his gaze on you, he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a weak laugh.
“...Good?” he asks.
Good? Good? Your head is spinning. It's not good. Nothing is good. Life is meaningless and everything you know exists on a floating rock spinning in the void and you think you're gonna pass out and never wake up. It's not good. It's fucking crazy. But you just mumble, “It's… showing up, I think…”
He raises an eyebrow. “That right? Let me see then.”
Felix grabs his phone and pulls up the camera, angling it so he has a clear view of his neck. He lets out a soft whistle, bringing his hand up to feel where the hickey is. You watch dumbly as he presses his fingers on it and lets out a shaky sigh. Then he looks at you and grins before throwing you a thumbs-up. “You did great. It's already pretty dark.”
You actually want to kill him. Your brain is melting and he's acting like this is the most normal afternoon of his life. Maybe it is. Does Felix do this type of thing often? The thought makes you shiver.
You throw your hands over your face. “I-I didn't mean for it to be that—like—ugh…”
His smile softens. “Hey, hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's…” he searches your face for a second and suddenly reaches over to gently pull your hands away. “It's not that bad. You did really good. Besides, it’s my neck, yeah?” His tone shifts to more of a teasing one, like he’s amused you’re overreacting a little. It just serves to frustrate you more.
You sigh. “Um… I really—it's really okay..?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just a little mark, nothing serious.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a bit and you feel yourself getting flushed under his gaze. “You know.. you can try it again. If you want. Just to practice. Or for science, or whatever.” He laughs.
What. You’re stunned into silence. Science? You stare at him incredulously and he just grins back before leaning even further forward. This can't be your Felix. This is actually crazy.
Felix smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “…Come on.” He brings a hand up to your face and pokes at your cheek softly. “Do it again. Try a different spot. Make it darker.”
He's obviously teasing you. So you're flabbergasted when what comes out of your mouth is, “W-Where..?” Where? Literally what are you saying. Like, where is the nearest exit? Where has your own sanity gone? That's what you should be asking.
He shrugs. “Anywhere. The other side?” He points to the unmarked side of his neck. Then he pushes his shirt down slightly, revealing a sliver of his shoulder and collarbone before looking back at you, eyes expectant with a bit of an impish gleam. “Maybe.. here?” he mumbles.
Your head spins. Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna pass out. It's so over. Life and death and the universe… fucking craziness. You're falling. You're dying. Everything is melting. Nothing's real.
Oh wait, you're actually falling, your head plopping down on his shoulder as you let out an embarrassed groan.
You hear him laughing softly. “Someone's eager—”
You’re a bit confused but then your eyes focus on the place your head is now laying and—Oh god, you’re right where his shoulder and neck meet. Right where he just told you to suck a hickey. Great.
You instantly lift your head up, face burning. “No, I didn't—I wasn't trying to—”
He brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not forcing you or anything. Are you overwhelmed?”
“Um, yeah, but— y-yeah. Sorry.” God. How pathetic do you look right now?
“Don't apologize. I was just teasing. It makes sense to be overwhelmed. It's a new experience.” He sits back and laughs but there’s a bit of a nervous waver to it. “You're fine, seriously. Maybe we got a little carried away, huh?”
“Uhh— yeah….”
He gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for being pushy. Let's just... just forget about the whole thing, yeah? Let's play some video games or something.” He clears his throat.
He's moving on but your head is still spinning. This really is the most normal afternoon for him, you think. Because how is he so chill? Your body is still buzzing with nervous energy and you can't just switch off and forget about it, can you?
You can't. “Uh— Uh, wait—...”
“...Yeah?”
You drop your head back down onto his shoulder. “Um… is it bad if I… kinda…”
You trail off and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t dare move, waiting for something, anything. When he finally does say something his voice sounds strained. “Kinda what?” he asks quietly.
“Um.” Fuck. “Nevermind.” You go to draw back but Felix quickly places a hand at the back of your head, preventing any movement.
You hear him exhale quietly. “I don't mind, you know,” he whispers. “You can do it. If you... if you want to.” He slowly starts running his fingers through your hair. “If you wanna practice. The more you practice, the more comfortable you'll be with it, right?”
You hum against his shoulder, the justification mulling around in your head. Of course. Of course that's why you want to. For practice. For science.
He continues. “Yeah, do it. Uh, j-just, I mean— if you want. A-As practice. Try to… see how dark you can make it… or… ” For all the talk he was making before, he stutters now, and you can't help but find it a little endearing. Maybe he's actually a little nervous as well.
Fuck it. Who cares. You've lost the plot. You press your mouth against his skin, giving a few open-mouthed kisses before gently sucking at it.
You hear his breathing stutter and he shifts slightly. “Yeah, j-just…” he lets out a shaky sigh and presses his hand a bit more firmly on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. The angle is still a bit awkward to reach, so without much thinking, you crawl slightly onto his lap.
“Oh,” he mumbles, his body goes tense for a second before relaxing again. He's completely still, like if he moves you’ll pull away, but eventually his fingers start running through your hair again. It isn't a particularly suggestive position, you're sitting back more towards his knees, but suddenly everything feels charged with tension.
You hear a low, almost imperceptible groan as you continue sucking lightly from the new angle. “You're doing really well,” he mutters encouragingly. “Just a little more… harder. And like, bite a little, remember?”
Right. You comply and bite down a little. Felix lets out a small whine, hand tightening in your hair. “Good… uh, just like that..” he mumbles. “You can try moving a little more, if you want—”
You don't need to hear more, instantly moving your mouth higher up his neck without much thought. His fingers slide down until his hands are completely resting between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer. Shivers run down your spine where he touches and you attach your lips to the side of his Adam's apple.
“A-Ah…” a shaky moan escapes him, taking both of you by surprise. His hands suddenly jump down to grip your waist tightly. Oh. He seems much more sensitive here. You swear you're dizzy. Maybe you're dying. You think you’re fine with that honestly.
You want to bite him. You let your teeth sink into the skin a little. He lets out a shaky half-laugh, half-groan, tilting his head back and pulling you towards him. “Y-You learn quickly.” A deep pink flush runs high on his cheeks, and his breaths are unsteady. You’ve never seen him like this, so undone, and it's making you feel powerful. You want more.
You decide to give in to that and bite down harder, feeling his body jerk. He moans, breathy, and whispers, “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that feels so good.” One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, fingers gently grasping the base of your hair. His thumb brushes up against your earlobe and for some reason it sets tingles off all down your spine.
…Does it really feel that good? You can't help but wonder. It mostly just felt weird on your arm but you suppose that's different. Different from your. Neck. Oh fuck, now you're thinking about it. His mouth on your neck. His mouth on your neck. You're floating. You're crashing. Everything is cool. Everything is burning.
Your brain is practically short-circuiting and you start sucking on the same spot before pulling back just enough to bite down and suck at it again, this time a little harder.
His breath stutters and you feel his head tilt to give you more access. There's another small gasp that comes out as a strained “Fuuuck…” when you continue. You think you're actually delirious at this point.
Then, “W-wait..” he says urgently, his chest heaving. His hand that was on your neck slides down to grab your shoulder now.
“That's… good. We should.. stop. I…” he pants heavily.
You pull away instantly. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” You feel restless, fidgety, more than just from nerves.
“No, you're fine, god. It's me. I'm getting too…” he shakes his head. “You did really good, I…” He presses his hands against his eyes and takes a few deep, slow breaths.
When he drops his hands he seems mostly back to normal. “Um.” He laughs a little. “We, uh… how's it look?”
You stare at his neck and shoulder. Oh, fuck. In truth, it looks fucking insane. Like he got mauled or something. Oh my god. That was you. What came over you?
He raises an eyebrow at your silence. “Guess I gotta see for myself,” he says and places his hands on your waist to lift you up and off of his lap. As if you weigh literally nothing. What the fuck.
With your head still reeling at how he lifted you like you're nothing, you don't really notice him reaching for his phone to see himself until you hear him suck in a breath.
“Wow… I'm gonna get so many comments tomorrow.”
“What?!” you shriek. Oh god. Of course it'll take a few days to fade. You hadn't even thought about that. The light mark on your arm is easy to brush off as nothing but the rosy hues on his neck are unmistakable.
He laughs. “I'm just kidding. I'll have to.. cover it with makeup I guess. Don't worry.”
“You better…” you mumble, embarrassed.
He hums. “Hmm… Well it isn't really fair... What should I do…” He leans in, studying your flushed face. “Wanna match?” he says with a cheeky grin.
“What?? Felix!”
“I'm joking! Jeez…” He pokes your cheek. “Unless all this blushing isn't just from embarrassment and you're actually into this?”
Your face is positively burning. “Shut up. You're annoying as hell,” you grumble.
He gasps dramatically. “After I gave up my sanctity for you to practice on me? This is how you treat me?”
You can't help but giggle at his dramatics but you quickly steel your expression and glare at him equally as dramatically.
You're really grateful everything seems to be normal on his end. You're trying your best to act the same, but in truth, you feel like a fucking mess. His joking comment about you being into this… No, definitely not. There's no way. It's probably just because it's your first time doing this with anyone, so of course it's going to feel crazy and weird and confusing. Right? Yeah. But still. Even long after the two of you move on, playing video games and hanging out like normal, you can't shake the feeling that something's weird. Something shifted. You don't know what the fuck it is though. You just try not to think about it.
How are you actually supposed to go back to normal after this?
—
a/n: so on a scale of 1 to 10 how painfully obvious is it that i've never given a hickey in my life.
no but um haha any feedback good or bad would be super appreciated!! pls leave a like or reblog if u enjoyed it makes me so happy. tysm for reading <3
part 2
#i do feel like. if this didnt blow up i would have sm more stuff posted#petal/flower/blossom probably wouldnt exist but i would have posted a lot more other things i think#bc when i had no followers i didnt like care as much about everything i post being rly amazing#like if i were to post rosy NOW?? aw hell nah#at least the first part is. so. bad#like ok obviously not rly like its fine but 😭 my expectations for myself and the stuff i post are sm higher now#i have sooooo many drafts that will never ever see the light of day lmao. but they might have if rosy didnt blow up#sometimes i get the urge to make a new anonymous acc and just start posting there lmao#guh. anyway#i think overall its more of a good thing because im improving as a writer#but yea#what was i saying#happy 1 year to rosy 💗#ily guys
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Congratulations My Hero Academia for providing, possibly, the biggest and longest legit straightbaiting yet in shonen history.
Bonus points that their final chapter was released on yaoi day.
#first of all absolutely no hate to izuocha#i actually really like them together romantically or not. i love their dynamic so much#but you must know just how hilarious and absurd it is#that this series started with them crushing on each other#and then ochako's attraction to deku became an important part of her character#BUT they completely turn it around and made it about#deku's meaning as a hero and being saved#and ochakos expression of love and understanding others#like. that is legit very compelling and a beautiful relationship#but they did not become A Couple. at least- nothing confirms nor denies it#just like how a queerbait relationship would be#absolutely hilarious. i honestly love how it ended like this#doesnt mean i love the ending tho. oh boy its weird and legit bad in many areas#But this? My god I am so fucking sold.#God bless izuocha bakudeku and togachako i love you all#evelynpr bnha#bnha#mha#my hero academia#mha 430#mha spoilers#bnha spoilers#bakudeku#bkdk#tgck#togachako#i dont think I'll tag izuocha cus...im scared#i really dont hate it guys I promise I dont#izuku midoriya#ochako uraraka
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
you, and what little remains of your brother.
#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#metal sonic#miles tails prower#unbreakable bond#'family photo. say cheese!' neither of them have a mouth lol..#tails doll#thinking again abt how metal sonic was reprogrammed to hate tails. and yet he still must feel horrid guilt over his death.#im a 'tails doll has bad future tails inside; hes just not All there like metal is' truther#me (drawing thinsg that most likely arent even canon) I HATE THIS WHY IS THIS SO DEPRESSING#if you couldnt tell... tails is using sonics weird uncoiled arm as a pillow...#it isnt relevant but i think theyre in the westside dump here. back where he found tails in the first place.#i dont think either of them remember that by now. only 'this place is painful. this place is important.'#roboticized sonic theory#the title is supposed to be vague as well. works in either direction#tails doll->my brother my hero. trapped in that horrifying form. unable to be the good person i KNOW he is. is there any part of you left?#metal sonic->my brother my hope. trapped in that useless body. does he even recognize me? how much can you think? see? feel? are you empty?#my nyart#anywya#i have other versions with amy (her silhouette at least LOLSIES) but i didnt like em as much so i just... byebye ✌#serious co.pa opening vibes from this#'sachi is my pride and joy... i dont think she even recognizes me anymore...'#you get it#thats not a question. its a command. you Understand. you Do Understand...
812 notes
·
View notes
Text





A while ago the was going around an art challenge where you draw your favourite Fire Emblem character of each letter of the alphabet. Figured I'd give it a shot, let's see if I can finish this. Here's ABC.
#fire emblem#fire emblem fates#fire emblem: three houses#Fire Emblem Awakening#FE Arthur#Alois Rangeld#FE Brady#Claude von Riegan#FE Charlotte#Alois is overall a super lovable character#but on top of that I also really appreciate the fact that he is a platonic S support option#9 times out of 10 video game romances involving the player character don't really do anything for me#but usually I still end up romancing someone anyway because mid content is better than than no content#so thank you IS for giving me the bromance option I always wanted#when I first saw Arthur I expected him to be one of those joke characters that get really obnoxious really quick.#Instead he turned out to be such a genuinely good dude and a cinnamon roll that he was impossible not to like#what really pushed him to the fave territory though#was the way every once in a while you could see cracks in his cheery exterior#revealing the unexpected melancholia underneath#being the unluckiest person on earth is getting to him despite his best efforts to not let it#or at least that was what i saw in him. you know how it is with blorbos#you never know how much of what you see is really there and how much you just made up. it's all part of the fun#On my first playthough I paired him with azura because their supports were cute#what I didn't see coming was the way azura disappears without a trace in the ending#and none of the in-game characters ever find out what happened to her#and so I couldn't help wondering#would arthur blame his own bad luck for azura's disappearance?#Would he spend the rest of his life terrified of something similar happening to percy and shigure too?#Would he become overprotective or would he isolate himself in an attempt to protect his loved ones from his bad luck?
243 notes
·
View notes
Text


























YOUR ORIGIN: PROLOGUE
#your origin#theo wood#dante queen#alfie wood#NEW STORY ALERT WOHOO!!!#ig. YIPPEE#actually losing my mind this took LONG to plan. ESPECIALLY THE FIRST PART IM JUST SLOW#but it was indeed fun! I wanted so bad to make a good (at least) intro of my two most favorite all time sims#again sorry if my way of writing is not clear and if my scene layout doesn’t make sense oop-#actually thinking of adding transcript in the future cuz when it comes to me i feel like i make it hard for anyone who interested in readin#RWHAGAGAG#ts4#sims 4#simblr#ts4 story#sims 4 story
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
movie night
#This piece is dedicated to the scene in EVERY FUCKING PRE RESCAS FREEHOUN FIC where they watch the thing or something#and then they KISS during the credits <- this part is not in every fic but in my heart 🧡#tbqh idk if I like this or nawt but whatever I'm tired of it sitting in my files. Gordon's cute at least#anyway#gordon freeman#barney calhoun#freehoun#half life#hl#my art#id in alt text#Barney and Gordon on the worlds smallest shittiest couch in the dark what will happen……. tee..hee….#I feel the need to clarify also they’ve seen the thing like one morbillion times. but they react like it’s the first time everytime#They watched this together back when they first met and Barney was like. ‘ur so fuchs lol’ and Gordon was like ‘yeah well you’re Mac’#and then the scene in the thiokol skidozer happened and they both got really quiet#<- joke for me mostly . But if you know . Yeagh#I want to rewatch the thing so bad now goddamnitttttttt#euuaagghhhhhhhhhhhh
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
the more I think about, the more i realize that maybe the problem all along was not that some reader don't understand the conflicts in mdzs (sometimes, that too) but that they don't understand the sheer scope of conflict
it is easier for readers to comprehend internal conflicts and while there are internal conflicts in the story they are ultimately not the reason behind the tragedy of wei wuxian's first life and the wen remnants' fate and consequent slaughter. to put it in other words: the first siege was not the result of wei wuxian's direct action or inaction, it was a part of systematic issue of the jianghu and their ostracization of wei wuxian and the wen remnants
and i also know that many ppl want wei wuxian to have a happier ending in his first life. wouldn't it be better if he and everyone who he loved were alive and safe and unharmed? and it is far easier to imagine a fix-it plot when the problem is on the actions of the individual. wouldn't the situation change if only character A did this? won't there be a happy ending if only the villain died earlier?
and don't get me wrong: i love myself a fix-it fic and i like a lot of them for mdzs. but this post isn't about fics
so, returning to the previous point: it is far easier to blame the individual. but the main conflict in mdzs is not an internal one, it's an external conflict: a man vs the world, a man vs society. and mxtx shows us that in this kind of conflict, the man and his ambitions will always perish: whether it be wei wuxian or xiao xingchen or even mianmian and lan wangji who tried to defend wei wuxian (lan wangji spoke in wei wuxian's defence several times, but did anyone listen? no). she is very realistic in this, actually, and i love her messages and ideas specifically in mdzs as they are the closest to my own
mdzs is a very realistic novel in general: even though headcanons and fanons about "modao" and how it was corrupting wei wuxian and the yin hufu being a cursed artifact with its own mind are very prevalent in the fandom, it's not like that at all in the novel. there are no voices coming from the yin hufu which want wei wuxian to kill anyone and everyone and drive him mad. wei wuxian doesn't even use modao and guidao isn't the reason for his unstable mental state but rather all the truly horrific and terrible situations that he was faced with in such a short term i'm left wondering if there is anyone else who could have lived through all of this like he did
but i digress. my main point: i don't deny that there are internal conflicts in mdzs, but the reason behind the tragedy of the first siege, the slaughter of the wen remnants, wei wuxian's death — the reason for all of this is a systematic issue born from the privilege and hypocrisy of the jianghu and its ruling class, not a consequence of an individual's action or inaction. the system put in place will always be much more sturdier than one person's claims
wei wuxian in front of all the clans accuses the jin clan and specifically jin zixun of kidnapping and using violence against the wen clan remnants, and no one bats an eye. mianmian speaks for wei wuxian, saying that killing four guards who were abusing the prisoners is not senseless slaughter, and she is put down and her words are dismissed as she is just "a maiden madly in love". lan wangji also speaks for wei wuxian, and without anyone's support, not even his clan's or brother's, his words are silenced and spoken over and dismissed without further notice
hell, even wen ning: jin guangshan organised a public execution and no one questioned jin guangyao why wen ning was alive and well and summoned on dafan mountain!
the main external conflict is the jianghu's hypocrisy and blindness and prejudice and "at least it doesn't happen to me so it doesn't matter" mentality and how the characters choose to conduct themselves and what choices they make in this kind of society and how it reacts back on these choices
#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#mdzs meta#i guess?#one of my biggest gripes is the cql fanon about good and bad wens#why there should be dafan wens cql team pls explain#(i understand why. i still hate it)#as though the jianghu gives a fuck whether these specific wens were good or bad#and the wen remnants being the remnants of qishan wen clan is much more impactful still#yes they were a part of the same clan that wen ruohan led. yes they were the remnants of the same clan that the sunshot campaign was against#they Still deserved to live. they Still deserved to at least treated with respect#not killed for entertainment#and it shows that it's not that wen ruohan was just particularly cartoonishly bad#and was just an exception#it shows that the potential for senseless violence was always there it's just wen ruohan was the one who had much more power#and was the first one to outright attack the other clans#WHY IS THIS POST SO LONG im so so sorry
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
this hungry thing inside me - pt. 1
price x reader - gaz x reader
[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 4.7k, established relationship (price and reader are married), domestication/traditional gender roles, price is a good man but occasionally a terrible husband, relationship problems, arguments, mentions of manipulation, alcohol and smoking mentions, infidelity, dry-humping, kissing, biting, dirty talk, begging, fingering, oral, edging, reader is assuming the worst of her husband through-out most of this part with minimal self-reflection so have fun with that!]
Title is from THIS poem - also, happy 600 followers to me! 🥳
It’s a tragedy in three acts.
You love your husband and you know he loves you. That was given, unquestionable, the foundation you built upon. You wouldn’t have married him if that wasn’t true. That was the form of the first tragedy. Somewhere along the way, in the long years growing more and more familiar with each other, of planning your futures, of just living life, you grew complacent. Bored.
The walls of the nice little house his promotion had bought for the two of you was meant to be your freedom. That’s how he had framed it.
“Know you didn’t have to work anymore if you don’t want, love. Can do whatever you please now,” your husband had said soothingly that first night as he held you in his arms once the passion between you had cooled to a simmer. “Take care of me ‘n the house,” he paused before continuing, “kids, too,” he said with a small laugh, “when we finally get around to makin’ ‘em.” There was a long pause between you. You watched as the gauzy curtains blew lazily in and out. You house breathing in the cool summer night air. “Won’t have to worry over you when I’m away. I’ll know you’ll be here, safe,” he mumbled, a bristly smooch tickled your ear, making you smile. “I’ll be home more now, too.”
“Promise?” you whispered into the dim, blue light of your bedroom. The fumes of new paint wafted up from downstairs. The smell of new beginnings, of hope. He squeezed your hand.
He promised.
You took his offer but, just like any offer that seemed too good to be true, there were catches. You had kept up your end. You quit your job, taking up typical housewife activities: cooking homemade meals, scrubbing baseboards, going for early morning walks followed by falling asleep on the couch to some trash afternoon TV drama. All the usual things. It was John that couldn’t keep his end. While you tore through novels trying to keep from texting him for the fifth time when he would be home, he was just gone.
His new position kept him busy with confidential work most of the time, which also kept him on base. Strangely, you could have dealt with that. You could have grown used to feeling him slip in bed late at night and leave before breakfast the next morning. His job was important to him. He was respected. Most importantly, it afforded you a life most would cut their arm off to have. So, you tried to be patient. Grateful, you told yourself. You should be grateful for the snippets of time you were able to share. Even though he was dog-tired most of the time, spending long hours relaxing on the couch or sprawled across your bed.
You let yourself become a new thing entirely: soft and plain and domesticated. John, though, John remained the same. He still returned home with rough hands and skin tanned from days under an aggressive, blinding sun. Black grease and gun powder wore into the cracks around his eyes, and, most worrying to you, scars collected across his body. He told you when you met that men in his line of work had to be half-crazy to make it; adrenaline junkies, nomads, and it hurt you that he still lived like that. He was your husband, but he was a warrior too. A man without a home; without a reason to live.
You stopped doing things together almost entirely. You cooked dinners for one and ate them alone. You went to the shops alone. You worked out and wandered the city alone. As John put so eloquently in one of your arguments: “You’ve all the time in the world to do that shite when I’m not here. Why are you nagging me on my days off?”
An image came to mind when he said that. The image of the ball-and-chain, of the frazzled, ungrateful housewife, seared into your mind with his words. It rattled you so much that the argument stopped right there, dropping it as you walked away into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room. You didn’t want to be that to him. Couldn’t stand even thinking of it. If that’s how he felt, you told yourself, then . . . then you would stop nagging him. It was a bitter pill, but you swallowed it because you loved him. You cared about what he thought of you. The last thing you wanted was to drive him away now with your petty little problems. You loved your husband, you told yourself as you lay awake in the dark, so you pulled away. You threw away your “honey do” list. You deleted websites saved with holiday plans. You did your part. You stopped bothering him.
John relegated himself to the guest bedroom that night while you waited upstairs, wiping away the bitter, intermittent, tears that streaked down your face. You waited for the sound of his footsteps as they creaked up the stairs, for the door hinge to whine, announcing his entry. If he was good at anything these days, he was good at apologizing.Not with words, naturally, but physically. What John lacked in social skills he made up for with stamina and determination. It was hard to continue a fight with his face between your legs and you couldn’t stay angry for long at a man who could chain together orgasms like he was pulling taffy. Fucked out and sated, you would wake the next morning all the more forgiving and happy.
There was a creak downstairs. Footsteps. The TV turning off. Your heart began to race the second you heard it. You lay still in bed, facing the window as you continued to listen. More footsteps, but they were toward the front of the house. The opposite of where he should be heading. Shuffling. Soft thumping. The shuffling of a coat. The jingle of keys. You held your breath in the quiet dark, unwilling to face the truth of what your senses clearly told you was happening.
The door opened then closed softly. The deadbolt slid into place. Then, silence. Dreaded, nerve-fraying, silence. A few minutes later, long after you knew he had left, your phone vibrated at your side. A message from John. The first one you’d received unprompted in a long time.
“Lads invited me out for a drink. Be back later.”
-
Action and reaction. That’s the form of the second tragedy.
What’s the saying? “Don’t get mad, get even.” Whatever it was, you thought as you artfully lined your eyes, that was your new mantra. You stared into the vanity mirror and saw a new woman staring back at you. Not the old you, not the happy, professional woman always smiling next to her buff, military husband. No, you were a different animal entirely now. Newborn from the cocoon of the drab, boring housewife he’d transformed you into. You were reformed from months of dishpan hands and laying about on the couch. You would no longer allow yourself to crumble away, mentally and physically. You blotted your lipstick and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before you stood up.
If John couldn’t see how hot his own wife was, then you weren’t going to waste your time chasing after his attention anymore.
You wouldn’t lie. You felt guilty as hell the first few times you went out alone. Guilty that you’d left the little bubble of safety he’d constructed for you. The one he’d abandoned you in and visited rarely. Guilty that you left your wedding band and engagement rings in your jewelry box. Guilty that you were having fun on your own, letting the alcohol melt away the awkwardness of standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers in a strange bar. The music was good though, and so was the beer. You remember snippets of conversations, carrying on with the bartender, whomever was seated next to you, the girls fixing their makeup in the bathroom. You felt young again. Carefree and untethered. You remember leaving, walking home along the dark streets. The thick, syrupy, ball of happiness you’d built all night suddenly plunged into cold water, forming a hard, cracked surface as you steeled yourself at the front door.
John could be in there, you thought. He could be angry. Worried. Disappointed.
You pushed the door open. The empty hook where his coat usually hung and the space where his shoes sat in the hall the first two places your eyes nervously landed on. Empty, you saw. Still gone. Still alone. You checked your phone for the hundredth time that night just to be sure you hadn’t missed a call or text. Nothing. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. You had gotten away with it.
Was that a stupid way to look at it? Absolutely. The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous you felt. You were a grown woman. You could go out without your goddamn absentee husband’s permission. So, you did. You tried to make yourself irregular, harder to track. Random times, days of the week, always a different bar in a different part of the city. Sometimes you even hopped on the train to see what the adjoining towns had to offer. You always came back at the end of the night though, giddy with alcohol and buzzing with excitement, but home. A drip of guilt rolled down your spine. Yours and John’s home.
Still, before you left you would stand in the hall, hand still on the doorknob, keys in your other hand. This was the first hurdle, something within you told you. A part of you that knew better, probably, expected more. A part of you that looked and acted a hell of a lot like your husband. It asked you: If you had known where this road would lead you, this journey of revenge and self-discovery, would you have still done it?
You finally answered that question when you let your first hookup take you back to his place. In between sloppy kisses laced with the alcohol you’d let him buy you and the nicotine he’d shotgunned down your throat in the alley outside, you’d managed to string two brain cells together to tell him enough. He’d agreed quickly. Being under the same influences as you plus the aching erection he pressed against your jeaned thigh, it was a no-brainer.
You followed him back to his apartment, a nice little flat only a few blocks away, wrapped around him the whole way. It wasn’t until then that you realized how much touch you craved. John had been distant since his promotion. Sex had become less spontaneous, less fun. His lingering touches disappeared and the almost daily lovemaking had slowed from a stream, to a drizzle, to drops, before shutting off entirely. Now that you had another man, and a stranger at that, returning your nuzzles against his chest with loving strokes of strong, rough fingers through your hair, you could have sang. Could have cried.
He asked you what you wanted once he got you inside. Deliriously fuzzy and half-drunk, you were confident. You asked him to undress you and he followed your instruction without question. You closed your eyes and drank in the feel of his calloused palms against your skin: the way he reverently kissed your neck when he tossed your blouse to the floor, how he squeezed your ass in both hands after peeling your pants down your thighs.
“Bet your pussy tastes as good as you look, luv,” he breathed in your ear as he ground his trapped cock against the soaked silk of your panties. You whined, pulling him out of your neck by his short curly hair to stick your tongue down his throat. You couldn’t remember the last time John had talked to you like that and fuck me if you couldn’t get used to it.
“’s that what you want?” you slurred, hands roaming boldly up under his shirt. He had a gorgeous body from what you could feel; all planes of hard muscle from his groin up to some nicely defined pectorals. His biceps bulged under the grip of your wandering hands, making you flush as he groaned. His fingers wound in the fabric hugging your hips, threatening to use just an ounce of that strength to rip them away, to be done with it already.
“I want . . .” he said, lingering to a pause as he pulled away. His brown eyes half closed as he ran his hands appreciatively up your curves. Even in the weak city light, mostly blocked out by haphazardly-drawn blinds, you could see the warm brown of his skin. His hands stopped under your bra. Whatever thought preoccupied his mind until then had run through, prompting him to lean back in and place a kiss on your clavicle.
“Want whatever you want,” he said as he pulled away, trailing a line of kisses back up your neck. You were putty in his hands, uselessly moaning, pinned between him and the wall as you let him touch you as he pleased. “I’s just . . .” he trailed off again, hand swiping up your clothed pussy, making you squeak. “You’re actin’ like you haven’t been touched in years, luv,” he breathed against your ear with a biting kiss. God did you wish he wasn’t so bloody close to the truth.
You thought you saw sparks behind your eyes as he hitched your leg up around his hip. He effortlessly supported you, letting you wind your arms around his neck.
“Can’t have that,” he said soft yet authoritative, pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. The tickle of his mustache faintly reminded you of John. You whined, rocking forward, searching blindly for pressure; for any relief for the need throbbing hot and wet between your thighs. He kissed your cheek, then your nose.
“Now now,” he soothed gently, a hand cupping your flushed cheek. “Stay with me. Tell me what you want,” capping his sentence with a kiss that sucked your top lip between his teeth. You groaned at the difference between the sharp pain of his teeth as they nipped again and again at your lip and his bubblegum-soft words filling your head. The way he held you so sure and strong but wouldn’t take anything from you. Not until he was told.
You didn’t think they made guys like him anymore. Your half-drunk brain swirled as he paused, the two of you breathing the same air. How the hell had you gotten so lucky?
“Kyle,” you breathed, light and airy. Your arms flexed around his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m so close,” you whined pitifully, eyebrows pressing together. “However you want to do it, just please,” you trailed off with another whine. His hands pressed divots into the soft flesh of your hips, a small betrayal of his slipping control. You sucked in a shuddering breath, willing yourself to continue; to get it all out. “Then . . . then I want you to fuck me,” you rambled out, tears welling up every time you blinked. He looked down on you with dark satisfaction, a pleased hum vibrating between his lips. “I need it. Fuck, do I need it, Kyle. Whatever you want. I can take it,” you begged against his lips, voice cracking. “Promise.”
-
You walked home wrapped in a daze, only noticing Kyle had left you a few blocks later. It took another block or so to piece everything together: he’d kissed the top of your head, squeezed your shoulders in a hug, asked you something you barely remembered, then pushed you forward across the crosswalk alone. You looked around, strands of sweaty hair itching at your skin. From the landmarks and style of houses you guessed you were near your own neighborhood. The functioning part of your brain kept your body walking on autopilot, forcing yourself forward. The rest of your mind was still occupied, reliving the wonderful night you’d just passed with him. With Kyle.
He’d given you exactly what you’d wanted, no further begging required. Pinned between the wall and his warm body, his strong fingers had efficiently worked an embarrassingly quick orgasm out of you. Boneless and panting against the cool wall, he’d chuckled into your neck; leaving little love bites as he waited for you to come down from your high.
“’s all you got, luv?” he’d goaded, gently stroking your already sweat-slicked thighs, “Tappin’ out already or are’y ready f’ more?”
Your hands around his neck weakly grabbed at his head, nails barely catching the close shaved curls at his nape. It was only now that you realized he must have been acting, just letting you think you’d pulled his head out of your neck in order to speak face-to-face.
“More,” you’d groaned, no bite left to your voice, as both of his hands palmed your ass to lift you away from the wall, “Need it.”
The street names became more and more familiar as the sun broke through the clouds, scattering the early morning fog. Around and around you traveled until you came to the familiar turn that marked your road. Your quaint, quiet little street lay in front of you. Thankfully, it was far too early on the weekend for anyone to be up and about. Every house you passed still had their curtains drawn, windows dark. As you drew closer to your home you instinctively reached for your house keys, finding them right where they always were, tucked safely in the first pocket of your purse. Your purse, you thought, your keys. He had made sure you had everything before you left.
Your stomach flip-flopped as you paused on your front step, key in hand halfway to the lock. He had been far too wonderful to just be a one-night thing. You blushed as you shoved your key in the lock with a shaking hand. The phantom of a thought crossed your mind that this could be yours and his house. He could be coming home to you. As you opened the door and crossed the threshold, you snuffed out the thought. Breathing in the familiar air of yours and John’s home; scented with his favorite laundry detergent, the mix of his colognes and your perfumes, the faint smell of lavender wicking into the stale air from the oil diffuser, it felt almost sacrilegious to think of another man like that.
It was just a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fling and nothing more.
You shook your head at yourself as you stripped off your jacket and shoes, your purse discarded haphazardly on the table. You checked the space where John’s jacket and shoes usually were. Still gone. The house was untouched from how you had left it last night. Strangely, it didn’t bother you that you had slept with another man. You searched your heart for guilt as you robotically went about your usual routine, but it just wasn’t there. You should have stopped right there, questioned yourself, maybe even called your husband to work through what should have been a turning point; a huge breach to the contract of your relationship. You didn’t, though. In that moment, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.
John had hurt you. He was growing more and more emotionally distant by the day. He had cut you off from your friends and family when he moved you out here and then severed your last tie to the outside world when he convinced you to stop working. You had been such a fucking fool to fall into his trap. You had nothing and he had everything. Money, power, control, it was all in his hands. Fuck him, you told yourself as you pushed open the door to the downstairs bathroom; the one John used when he slept in the guest bedroom. He did this to himself, you fumed. He deserves it.Deserves to be hurt for once.
Kyle, though, Kyle had cared about you.
You struck the invasive thoughts from your mind as you shut yourself in the tiny, tile-lined bathroom. You needed to take a shower, to wash him from you and be done with this petty journey of revenge. You needed to be cleansed of the outside world to return purified into this one again. Stripping off your clothes, though, you were struck with the sinking reminder that it wouldn’t be the easy task you’d imagined. Your thighs were marred with irritated red blotches and tiny, almost imperceptible, semicircles of dents. Plain evidence of the bites your fling had scattered around your sex.
He’d stopped to do that every so often; pulling away just as he’d worked you to that delicious, spiraling peak right before you tipped over into bliss. The wet heat of his tongue on your clit replaced with sharp nips of teeth that had you begging please let me cum please please, Kyle, please.
The band of his arm was iron-fast around your middle, his hands strong around your thighs. He had you right where he wanted and seemed more than satisfied to keep you there for the time being. He bit at the skin of your mons, right above your clit; right where you really wanted him. Through your squirms and whines, he simply held you down and shushed you quietly – soft and gentle kisses replacing bites as your pleasure receded – until your pleas faded into sighs and his bedroom fell silent once more.
You scrubbed shampoo through your hair, unaware how long you’d been standing under the cool spray. You rinsed and quickly worked conditioner through the ends of your hair before slathering yourself with body wash, intent on finishing your shower before the last of the hot water ran out. You couldn’t afford to stand in the stall any longer: daydreaming about how many times he brought you right up to that blissful high before cruelly pulling away just to work you back up again. You needed to wash him off of you. His heady, slightly sweet, cologne. The smoke and nicotine that decidedly wasn’t your husband’s cigars. Needed every particle that wasn’t your own, normal smell gone before-
There was a sound from somewhere in the house: the shuffling and clicking of something achingly familiar. You shut the water off in a panic. Over the dripping from the shower head you could barely hear it. The front door closing. The little sounds continued: shoes dropping onto the boot tray, keys jangling as they clattered against the counter, a jacket softly shuffling as it was dropped over a chair and not on it’s place on the empty hook in the hall. Everything added up to only one possibility: John was home.
Fuck, you swore over and over as you scrambled out of the shower; at yourself, at him, at the guy who fucked your brains out last night, at god. Someone had to be to blame for the royal mess you were in. You toweled yourself semi-dry in a whirlwind, stopping only to listen with baited breath for where John was, what he was doing. Nothing unusual, from what you could hear beyond the bathroom. You wiped off the mirror, glaring back at the misty reflection that greeted you like you were both Medusa and Perseus. You checked both sides of your neck quickly. No redness. No bites. You breathed a sigh of relief that somehow wasn’t relieving at all. Still, you grabbed John’s ugly plaid robe off the back of the door and rolled the collar up until it dusted your jaw. You couldn’t be too careful.
Chucking your towel in the bin with your clothes, you finally made your exit. With an extravagant plume of steam following you, you opened the door intending to quickly steal upstairs where you could dress and avoid your husband for the rest of the day. He was waiting for you though. Eyes soft and full of love, slouching lazily against the back of the couch to catch you as soon as the door opened.
“There she is,” he purred, gathering you in the inescapable embrace of his arms. You let out a gasp at his suddenness as he kissed the wet crown of your head, a hum of satisfaction on his lips. “There’s my lovey,” he said stroking down your back, as if he was trying to convince you this is how he was, how it always was. “How was the shower? Relaxing?” he asked, loosening his grip. You took your opportunity, possibly the only one he would give you, and slithered out of his grasp.
“Fine!” you called behind you as you thudded up the stairs.
You didn’t stop running until the door to the master bedroom slammed shut behind you. You lay your back against it; panting and heart hammering in your chest as you waited. John didn’t follow you. You heard him walk around downstairs; making something to eat in the kitchen before turning on the TV. He probably thinks you’re still mad at him, you told yourself. Good. You dressed in your usual lounging-about-the-house clothes while inspecting the rest of your body for any errant love-bites or marks you might have missed before slipping back downstairs.
You and John shared a terse, awkward morning. You floated around each other, never lingering too long in each other’s presence. If you entered a room, he left it. Beyond that, he followed his usual routine: laundering his bag of gross gym-clothes, making up the guest bed, paper, lunch, out for a smoke, a football match. It wasn’t until he wandered in the kitchen while you were making dinner for the both of you – by force of habit – that he spoke to you again.
“’m sorry f’ how I’ve been lately,” he said laying his large hands on the stone counter top behind you, the one he wanted, his shoulders squared forward. His apology was a shock, making you pause at the food in the pan you were stirring. You looked back at him, waiting for something else. What else, you didn’t know. You suspect he didn’t know either, because his pale blue eyes plead with you to shore up the difference, finish his own apology because he’s not good with words, love, go on ‘n make this right to yourself.
You turned back to your mushrooms sizzling in the thickening gravy. Silence fell for only a moment before John sighed behind you.
“I know it’s hard, love. Trust me, I know,” he said, the counter creaking as he leaned against it.
You steeled your back; not answering, not turning around. Oh, he knew what it was like to be left alone now? That was rich. He was the one always leaving you. Promising you he would be around more once you got married, once you bought the house, once he got his promotion. Promises, promises, promises. How much longer would it go on? When would you be able to believe him? Once you had your first child? Your third? In five, ten, fifteen years? Or would you be a widow by then?
His hands skimming your hips interrupted your stewing. He groaned as he pressed himself to your back, a gentle kiss ghosting your ear. “Miss you so bad, love. Miss bein’ home with you.”
Miss you. Miss you. Miss you. You thought, body drawn taught and dangerous under his wandering hands. So easy to be missed, John, when you’re never fucking here.
You clicked off the burner, shoving the bubbling skillet of gravy away as you slipped out of your husband’s arms for the second time today. He didn’t fight to keep you there. You knew what he was planning, knew all of his old tricks already. He would butter you up with soft words and half-apologies, pour you a few glasses of wine while watching your favorite movie for once before whisking you upstairs to make it all better in bed between your thighs. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Everything would be back to how he liked it: his nice, pliant wife happily tucked away in his bungalow while he was out saving the world. If even that was true.
You weren’t out of the kitchen before John was sputtering, “But what about-”
“Not hungry anymore,” you muttered, tears spilling down your cheeks as you ran back upstairs, emotions rapidly fraying apart. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t let him touch you. Not now.
Not anymore.
-
#mw2#price/reader#price x reader#gaz/reader#gaz x reader#starry writes#cod fanfic#cod mw2#call of duty#this will have at least one more part so for everyone cheering me on to make this a one-shot: im sorry#((eventually it will be all of 141 but i feel bad tagging for characters that haven't appeared (to fuck lmao) yet))#also: over halfway through april and this is my first fic posted? like goddamn i'm SLACKIN
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
Idk if anyone asked you this or not but how long did it take you to come up with the writing for mushroom oasis?
Sorry if you've already been asked this 😅
I think I have? Do you mean for the whole game or per update? Truth be told, I'm still writing for the full game hahaha! The storyline has changed so much over the course of development (trust me, for the better) that I can't say I regret taking my time with it.
I'd say one script would take me 2-3 months until I'm satisfied with it, and even then I'll still re-write interactions as I work on the assets and coding them into the game.
Extra rambles below:
It's only during working on MO does it open my eyes that ideas just come when you least expect it, and they just keep evolving until it gets better! You know how sometimes a movie feels badly written, like it was rushed? Yeah, early versions of MO felt like it was cobbled together by a five-year old staging a play. I cringe just thinking of an earlier version of Day 2 and Day 3, good grief.
Days 2 and 3 started out incredibly different, but now the writing's fully finalized for both and I'm happy with the direction I took with them! Now all I need are Day 3's assets, of which I'm actively working on any free time I get.
I have Days 4 and 5 as WIPs from the beginning, but they continue to change and get drafted multiple times already simply because the game evolved differently than I intended. The only thing I can promise is I'll do my best to make it a slow burn (or a fast burn depending on what you do for some endings but it might not end well 😳) I just hope players like what I have in store!
#mushroom oasis vn#bts#cheea chatter#i have a solid idea on where i wanna take the story!!#unlike when i released the first half of Day 1 demo in Feb 2023#its baffling how different its changed lemme tell you#but you guys only get the good parts and not the BAD parts#at least i hope so maybe yall think day 3 is bad dfhjf (fear)#anw ty for the question!
253 notes
·
View notes
Text
there are a lot of daddy issues to go around on DS9 in general, but odo, bashir and garak are really in their own special little fucked up 'what am I but wrought in my father's image' club
#star trek#star trek ds9#ds9#odo#julian bashir#elim garak#(I personally think we should put their dads in a cage match and let them kill each other. tain would probably win#but we could just shoot him after he claimed that victory. I Would Like To See It)#the triumvirate of bad dads to karmically oppose the sheer power of good dad vibes benjamin sisko has#specifically dads who Cannot and Will Not allow the healthy individuation of their sons into whole separate people#apart from what their father's hands have shaped them into#where that is one of the first things sisko accepts and realizes he must allow jake to do right at the early seasons#the bad dad club boys seem more specifically forcibly held in place to serve as mirrors for their fathers#and have to find ways to break away from that in more or less graceful ways; breaking off more or less important parts of themselves#to do so#dr mora seems to have a 'oh fuck.' moment where he sort of realizes what he's done#but the sympathy that gains him from me is hm. neglible lmao at least tain is basically fully just a monster#what's your excuse mora#I haven't met bashir's dad properly yet but I've seen enough to suspect I'm not going to be very charitably inclined towards him either
365 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't get too attached
#Brakul did a lot of the parenting for Erubi (the first of the Janeys-Brakul-Hibrides throuple bastard children) in infancy especially due#to Hibrides going through absolutely horrific post-partum depression (and not wanting to be a parent to begin with. Like she#had accepted it as an inevitability and a duty but when it actually happened it was just like Oh God. I am in hell)#Brakul is the only one of the three that actually Wants to be a parent and the fact that he can't behave as such in order to avoid#suspicion that he's the father is kind of a living nightmare for him a little.#Not like he isn't involved in his ''''nieces''' lives given he lives in the same household but he has to keep a bit of distance.#Janeys and especially Hibrides are pretty unsympathetic about this. For Hibrides it's like she has had to go through so much shit#to maintain this situation she never asked to be a part of and when he has to go through a fraction of that he breaks the fuck down.#He only wants the benefits of the whole situation and isn't willing to deal with the consequences.#This is also one of the very few things she's sympathetic with Janeys about like she respects that he's at least willing to play#his part and be miserable without bitching to her about it. Like she fucking hates him but respects the commitment to the bit.#Janeys is more just like 'Just go make more kids if you want your own so damn bad. Get a wife or something. That's what I#had to do and look at me I'm doing great I'm so normal'#The two kids aren't present on the pilgrimage (back home under the care of a hired tutor) but the Janeys-Brakul-Hibrides#Feeling Triangle are in a fucking tailspin over her being pregnant again like goddddd not this shit again#brakul red dog
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
1 year since i got scammed by nintedno leaving me forever yearning for a game we will never get and an extreme worry for the future
#ganondoodles talks#zelda#dont think they will learn anything#i know its pessimistic but like#as if the critics were in any way as loud or popular as those worshipping it#i feel so bad for having contributed twice to its sales and earnings#i bought it normally (later sold that to a coworker) and the collectors#which i sold but i only got back the money a normal new one would have cost#and it was also only bc i was buying sth else and it was literally in prime condition#like he said it wouldnt matter bc he cant give me more but then even he said holy shit thats literlly like unopened lol#i mean ... most of it was never opnened xD just took the game out once and put it back once thats it#i feel extra scammed bc it was the first and only collectors edition i ever owned#and i dont think i will ever buy one again#and might regret that#i still wish i had known how much i liked botw to get its special one ... but i didnt have the money back then either way#but id rather miss out on that than spend so much money on sth i will forever regret having spend money on#and i worry for the future bc the “story is the least important part” guy and “lol you can only like the old games bc nostalgia” guy-#-being in charge of the franchise arent giving me much hope for anything better#especially after totks success
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
#fuecoco#i gotta say i didn't really care for this thing at first. it was one of my least favorite starters right next to grookey when it was first#revealed. and normally i'm a big fan of fire starters. but this guy didn't do it for me#and this design still doesn't‚ but i do appreciate skeledirge. it's very cool‚ i love the fire hat and the día de los muertos design#it really feels like tpc have been going all out on making pokémon that Fit The Region since gen 8#which is pretty cool. i like it. and i definitely think paldea has some very fun vibes. but i dunno if i'd say it's one of my favorite#regions pokémon-wise or layout-wise. it was their first shot at open world‚ and i think it shows#the older regions with more limitations definitely shone more because they worked better in those limitations#paldea just feels like a big open empty sandbox at times. which is fun to explore‚ but doesn't feel too civilized compared to something#like… unova. where there's a city on every fuckin route corner and they're all so full of life and personality#like i could not remember any of the paldea town themes for the life of me. i can remember their names for the most part#but that's basically just because the facilities that get used a lot are spread out between them. for example: i remember medali#specifically because it's where i go to change a pokémon's tera type. i remember mesagoza because it's the main hub city#i remember levincia because of the posters. i remember montenevera because i think the hyper training guy is there#but not because like. i remember driftveil because YAAAAAAAAAAAAA#y'know. even galar had a better region design than paldea#that's not to say i think paldea is BAD. like i'm not a scarlet/violet hater like every other pokémon “fan” on the internet#i've put like 200+ hours into that fuckin game. i still LIKE it. but my heart still holds a soft spot for kalos and the like
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
hehe. almost christmas!
#ace attorney tag#narumitsu#partial nudity /#2nd and 3rd things inspired by playing the first game and Uhh... why is phoenix accusing men of being lovers and being certain of it#and just generally containing the core of bisexuality within him#also there's that part i recall in maybe the..3rd game? where he's like Wow.. I'd Fall For Him Too... about that cinnamon swirl looking man#learnt lately that the writers upon learning that ace attorney was very popular with BL people immediately started reading BL#to understand the genre. i think phoenix would also do such Research in college. to Learn About People. About The World.#so now he feels that he has gaydar and is a good Ally etc. But actually maybe...you're also just bi too !#too bad you'll have to get kissed by a criminal to work that out! Hang in there <3#i reread my fic today !! I'm in the christmas mood now ! Sort of ! ooooh the 7 year gap.. at least we are in the 7 year gap years irl#Somewhere out there they ARE drinking wine romantically gazing at snow on a balcony in germany. thank GOD for that fr#so i shall be drawing things from THAT era next i need to depict men finally kissing NOW !!!!!!#can't do it with orufrey..can't draw cute happy romantic wintry art of them..didn't finish processing my current divorcecore arc era cycle
350 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you have any cherik fics recs set in the comics? Or at least not set in X-men first class
my rec list is very small for i don't really read fanfics and i only really read things when they're recc'd to me HOWEVER i do have a Very Small collection for you (descending by word count). under the cut cause the descriptions got long by accident Oops
1.) [EXPLICIT, READ WARNINGS BEFOREHAND] Chimera, by Andraste (Word Count: 1,304)
(Takes place in the Ultimate X-Men (2001) timeline) I can't really describe this fic adequately without telling the whole thing or accidentally doing an analysis on it: while it doesn't have a strict plot, calling it PWP isn't too accurate in my opinion either. The smut in this fic- in my reading- isn't meant to be erotic in the typical way we approach NSFW in fanfiction, but if I start to go in-depth on what that means this post is just going to be dissecting everything line-for-line LOL. The best way I suppose I can describe the premise of this fic is a "grim" scenario based around Charles reworking Erik's mind and keeping him "docile", and Erik catching on to what's been happening to him. This fic explores how Erik wants Charles to "atone" and confront the consequences for this meddling.
2.) As If Nothing Happened, by joshriku (Word Count: 3,289)
(Takes place amidst X-Men Unlimited (1993) #1) This fic expands on the X-Men Unlimited tidbit where Charles is rescued by a """"mysterious"""" figure (who we later learn is Erik in UXM 309) during the snowstorm he, Scott, and Ororo were entrapped by. Very domestic and "warm" and sprinkled with beautiful, playful back-and-forths, and is a joy to revisit if you want something cozy.
3.) [EXPLICIT, READ WARNINGS BEFOREHAND] Behind Closed Minds by f3armgneto (Word Count: 4,914)
(No specific verse or timeline) Honorable Mention Is Honorable i gotta include the fic that was written for me... i wasn't sure if you were looking for explicitly-stated comicverse fics only but i needed to do an honorable mention..... the art this fic's based off of is meant to be comicverse so surely that must count... Premise is essentially that Charles accidentally telepathically peeps on Erik showering and is incapable of moving beyond the instance without "proper resolution". Meanwhile on Erik's end, fully aware he'd been spied upon, thinks of a "countermeasure" to Charles' voyeurism (spoilers: it's more of a reward than a deterrent).
4.) it's going to be a long, long time, by joshriku
(Takes places amidst Krakoa period around AXE Judgment and X-Men Red) A series of events between Charles and Erik following the latter leaving to retire on Arakko. My summary does a poor job on highlighting the chemistry, dialogue, and longing between Erik and Charles in this: I can only beg you to give the fic some time to read it.
5.) not so tragic, my love- it's this dream, it's this sun, by joshriku
(Takes place post-gala/beginning-of-post of the Krakoa period, diverges from X-men: From The Ashes (2024)) Erik has Charles stay with him on Island M after the fall of Krakoa. It's no surprise Charles isn't doing so well mentally after losing everything, but- amidst the facsimile of some domestic joys- Erik wrangles with Charles' depression and anguish, the professor having long lost the light in his spirit to help his fellow mutants readjust after the downfall. (Guest Starring: Jean Grey who has a wonderfully written interaction with Charles- though this fic In Its Entirety is wonderfully written...)
when i was looking through my bookmarks i hadn't realized literally like. half of my rec list was written by joshriku AJLVKEJALK BUT THEM'S THE WORKS i owe them my life for getting charles and erik's voices, thoughts, and actions down so wonderfully. i hadn't read Number 5 in a while and i'm grateful for the excuse to do so: it's probably my favorite of their works that i have listed here, so if you read any of these fics i greatly suggest that one
if you read any of these at all tho i hope you enjoy them !!
#snap chats#fic rec#i have to thank a commissioner who introduced me to joshriku and their works months back#i ALSO have to thank them because the commissioner was the reason why i picked up UXM 309 and XMU... so shout out to them...#reading anything by joshriku feels as if i'm reading dialogue from the comics itself#now usually when i see that term used in reference to /my/ work it's because of how hammy and 60's-sounding it is#but with joshriku i can just perfect imagine everything and hear everything- as if the words were meant for comic pages#maybe a lot of xmen fic writers have that talent- i dont know again im very bad at reading fics#as for chimera tho im not exagerrating when i say i can do a line-for-line analysis on it#it's probably because it's so short it's a lot easier for me to think of its premise and concept#AND IM GRATEFUL FOR IT FOR THAT i love it for that- the details Not Said are always my favorite#i remember reading that fic the first time and being blindsided by the ending#i shouldnt have considering the concept involved but still i was like Girl.... Youre In Too Deep VJLEKVJEAKLV#i love my toxic yaoi...... chimera i love you... it makes me want to tackle 'normal' erik more whenever i reread it#aaaaand i already shared all my praises for number 3 in the tags of my rb JLAEKJKAL#i always love me voyeurism and mirror usage... gentle remidner....#ngl something mysterious happened to me while i was making this post so idk how the summaries hold up#i at least wanted to try to use this ask to take my mind of the thing... i think it worked for the most part#i think a part of me doesnt read fics because then i get inspired and ill feel like im copying others' works vLAEKJELKJ#beacuse as i was revisiting these fics i was like. Ough.... Thats Good.. I Must See Visuals For This..#i met my old bestie through making fanart for her fic so who knows.. could be a worthy endeavor lol..#but yeah hope you enjoy these if you read em !!!
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have not read the most recent chapter yet I will soon after I’m done writing this ask but
Does Ford get pelted by eggs by Jimmy the Egg Store Clerk guy
On one of the gravity falls episodes Stan loses his hands and apparently usually plays a wholesome game of catch eggs with Jimmy which makes me think does that mean in Stan’s absence, does Ford have to play the egg catching game with Jimmy?
Please say he does!
... he does now
#gravity falls#the things we lost#stan pines#ford pines#answering stuff#ANON THIS MADE ME CACKLEEE#imagining ford just minding his business buying jelly beans and coffee beans.. his two favorite beans#and then he just gets absolutely pelted with eggs#first reaction is that he's being attacked#second is disbelief that stan would play such a dumb game in public#technically “hands off” isn't canon#or any of this episode#but i want this to be real so bad#i guess it's not improbable to assume at least parts of the stories might be based on real canon events#this whole rant is giving unemployed vibes#i digress#yes anon#you are amazing for putting this into existence
24 notes
·
View notes