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#best travel blog pictures
wanderlustphotosblog · 9 months
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A Look Back at My 20 Top Travel Photos of 2023
With my first trip to Asia, this was one of my best years of travel photography ever. I want to share my Top Travel Photos of 2023 with you in hopes that it inspires your next big travel adventure!
Each year I say that I could not be more blessed with the opportunities that I have had to travel the world. Not to mention, the ability to photograph the spectacular places I visit. And each year I am reminded that I have just started to scratch the surface of all the incredible things that are waiting to be explored in the world. I am beyond grateful for having the opportunity to travel to…
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jaimeblancarte · 1 month
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@jaimeblancarte Querétaro, Qro. 2024
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allurilove · 1 month
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Yandere Manager x singer you
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
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Includes: yandere male manager x gender neutral singer reader, he’s secretly pining after you, your own little stalker, forbidden romance ig, male masturbation, takes pics of you sleeping, non con touching.
You met your yandere manager at the bar. You had been a part of a small band that never really made it big, but you always had shone brighter than the rest. You were magnetic, already having that star potential, and happened to sit right next to the man who worked for one of the best record companies. He just got off work, his sleeves pushed up above his elbow, and his glasses folded neatly next to him. He never really liked to drink, he was a different person when he did, but today was a special occasion. You were here. He already knew who you were, and he used a second low-key instagram account to see your stuff. He glanced at you. Your get-up was cute. He assumed that you came back from a concert or party, as there was a bit of confetti in your hair. You wore minimal and possibly sweat-proof makeup, and your eyes were striking with the black eyeliner.
Your manager sort of fell for you the first time he met you. It wasn’t easy to catch his attention, but you managed to do it. He had slid you his business card, paid for the rest of your drinks, and put on his best speech to convince you to sign with him. You became a solo artist in the blink of an eye, your singles and albums making it to the top forty, and you had the fame you wanted for so long. It just came with the price of having a stalker. As a manager, he had your location at all times. For safety purposes… of course. He threw a cap on, tiptoeing around the city to spy on you and your friends.
Your manager was responsible for your fan club. He would never tell you this, because it was simply embarrassing to admit, but he made a blog to gush about you. ‘A hundred reasons why you should stan y/n’ was the beginning of his secret outlet. He was the one that started the #manager and y/n would be cute hashtag on twitter, uploading a bunch of pictures of you and him having a ‘sweet’ moment. He spent hours scouring the internet to watch countless of edits of you, and he even made some himself. His cold and methodical demeanor would disappear the moment he was in the comfort of his home. He would lay in his bed, giggling and kicking his feet, twirling a piece of his hair as his eyes lit up at the sight of you on his screen.
Your manager acts like a helicopter parent. He’s always on your ass. He never texts you paragraphs or long sentences, so he could spam you and make sure you had definitely seen his messages.
“Where are you?”
“Out drinking again?”
“What happened to being responsible?”
“You have a show in two days.”
“I’ll be disappointed in you if you are drunk.”
“You better be at my house in two seconds.”
“Two seconds or I’m coming to get your ass.”
He liked you being drunk (only when you were around him). You would mumble and whine, his name on your lips constantly as you complained. And he got to be your hero for a while. He also forbids you from having any groupies. If you and him can’t fuck, then you can’t see anyone else. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you being with other people, and that’s why he had you at his apartment 24/7. When you were traveling for your shows, you best believe it that he was with you too. To him, it felt like you guys were practically married. Living together on the same bus, cooking together, sleeping near each other in close quarters. He would never cross the line when you were conscious; but when you were sleeping… it was free game.
The yandere manager took pictures of you. You were so worn out after your concerts, that you didn’t feel him moving your body. You trusted him because he gave you zero reasons not to. You trusted him enough that you didn’t expect him to start peeling off your clothes. He wanted his camera roll to be filled with your body. He gently put his hand on your thighs, squeezing the fat as he snapped a picture of you in your underwear. His fingers would sometimes find its way inside your mouth, subtly testing out your gag relax, and filming it for his pleasure. He flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and had his camera working hard to catch up with his thumb. He rapidly pressed against the button, trying to catch all the angles of your ass and sex.
Your manager touches his dick when you send him raw recordings of your voice. You were a night owl, your brain never shutting down until three a.m. and you sent him new songs you were working on. He plugged in his earbuds, lying back onto his bed, and hit play. He hummed the newest lyrics, his eyes closing as his hand slowly traveled down towards his crotch. He palmed himself, feeling his dick hardening in his grey sweatpants. He wanted you badly.
Your manager thought you were perfect, drop dead gorgeous and fucking hot. You have this sex appeal that makes his knees weak. He imagined you whispering the words to him: the heat of your voice warming the side of his face, your hand feeling up this tip, and wrapping around his long cock. Would you think that his dick was impressive? Would you be happy with how much cum that shoots out? Would you love it so much to gulp all of it down?
“Fuckin’ hell. Take it down your throat.”
“You love this don’t you? My big star.”
Your yandere manager wanted to sleep with you so badly. But he swore to himself to not get involved with another one of his clients. He groaned, his eyes opening to stare at his blank white ceiling, and his desperate cock softened in his hand. He hadn’t gotten any action lately, and he was oh so waiting to find the perfect moment to be with you.
Allure: extra stuff! idk i feel iffy about this fic
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this is definitely reader and yandere managers text messages.
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russellsppttemplates · 7 months
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Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)
There was nothing stopping you and Max now
Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.
"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.
You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.
"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.
"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.
The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?
"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.
"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.
Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.
"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".
"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.
"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.
"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.
Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.
"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.
"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.
The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.
"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.
"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.
"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".
Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.
"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.
"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.
"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.
"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".
"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.
"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.
Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.
"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.
"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.
"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.
"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.
"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.
"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.
The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.
"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.
"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".
The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.
"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.
The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.
When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.
"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.
"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.
"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.
"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.
"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"
"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.
You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.
Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".
Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.
"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.
"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.
"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.
Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.
"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.
"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.
"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.
"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.
"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".
Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.
"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.
"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".
"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.
"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".
"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".
"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.
"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.
When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.
"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.
After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.
From: Max
Mum is waiting for you at the door :)
Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.
"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.
"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.
"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.
"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.
"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.
"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.
"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.
“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.
"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.
"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.
"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.
"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.
"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.
Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.
"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".
"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.
Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.
"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.
.
Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.
"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.
As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.
"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.
"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.
"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.
Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.
"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.
His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.
"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.
"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.
"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.
Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.
The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".
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flokali · 1 year
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Hi i just went through your entire blog and now im having intense sagau zhongli brainrot hafjdjhdjexhsn imagine sagau zhongli worshiping fem readers chest for hours *dies*
(lying) I am so normal about boobs and Zhongli… but Anon I Am Thinking So Hard (TT) His hands are so big, his fingers are so long… with only one hand he’s able to cup your boobs (and if not then he does his best, just completely enthralled with the way some of your fat leaks from between his fingers and outside of the confines of his greedy hands) and just… squeezes while he uses his mouth on the other one, licking and kissing you until you’re sensitive from his textured (and forked) tongue… I am so okay and sane about this.
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Pairing: Afab! Reader (heavily implied ; no mentions of anything other than boobs (size not specified)) x Zhongli!
Warning: Yandere, Sagau, God-like reader, cult-like behavior, obsessive and possessive thoughts, n//sft (not explicit), groping & kissing & sucking, chest/boob worship, reader is implied to be bedded by multiple characters, implied murderer (or willingness to commit), cocky Morax makes an appearance, forked tongue and cold blooded Zhongli nation rise; ask to tag!
Word Count: 2k
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Zhongli’s hands are, unlike most people would be led to believe, slightly colder than the average being’s. Due to his connection to the Geo element and most natural stone’s cold temperatures, it isn’t surprising that beneath his gloves lay hands that felt smooth and chilly to the touch.
It was one of your initial observations when you first felt his un-gloved hand make contact with your own. It had taken a lot of sugary words of affirmation that he would not hurt nor taint you if he touched you with his bare hands, he’d convinced himself that you were as fragile as the carving made of crystals that’d he’d crafted, Zhongli had always feared that he may be still too much of a brute to handle you without breaking.
The feeling sent shivers up your spine, you wouldn’t quite know how to describe it, his touch was light as a feather but as imposing as the Archon’s presence, it was akin to the feeling of marble beneath bare feet, smooth and pleasant yet chilly.
His hands are also, much to no one’s surprise, slightly calloused, but not as much as you’d expect for a being once known as the God of War. The tip of his fingers were slightly thicker, as was the palm of his hand, probably from the way he gripped his weapon and the amount of times he found himself doing so. After millenia of wielding all manners of tools, it was impossible his hands didn’t tell the story as well.
Even so, his hands still managed to feel soft as they traveled across your skin. They glided across your body, up through your arms and across your collarbone; the ethereal touch leaves your skin tingling with desire and anticipation, eyes transfixed with the enchanting smile that graced Zhongli’s handsome features as he allowed his hands to wander across your bare skin, even though you were the one on the receiving end, it truly seemed as if Zhongli were the one enjoying it the most. His body relaxed, shoulders loosen, he looked at peace. His long hair let loose, his clothes replaced by silken robes that hung from his frame lazily, he was the picture of serenity and earthly bliss.
The first time you’d seen him he had been so terribly nervous, a sight completely unlike the one you’d come to know across your screen, his posture was stiff, his words felt rehearsed, and you were certain you heard a relieved sigh once he finished introducing himself; you’d later come to know it was due to a crumbling feeling of anxiety and fear of upsetting you. He may be one of the oldest of your acolytes but it was perhaps that very fact that weighed heavily on his shoulders, he had to be the best, the most knowledgeable, the most befitting servant of a deity such as yourself.
To be completely honest, had you not experienced the absolute madness that it was to be sent into a world you’d once thought fictitious and later been told you were a deity revered by the Gods of this world themselves, the mere thought of a man like Zhongli, a being who’d witnessed millenia pass him, who’d met Gods of times long since gone, nervously reciting a greeting in the mirror in preparation of meeting the likes of you would have been a comedy like no other.
However, many moon cycles had now passed and you’d learned that not only had you unknowingly become a God in a world you’d once played with but that Zhongli, the man in front of you right now, was perhaps one of your biggest devotees.
And prove his devotion he shall.
It’d become a ritual for certain acolytes, the ones of age and who bore a Vision, to engage in more physical forms of worship now that you resided with them in the same physical plane. Not all of them took part in the process, some believing it to be sacrilegious to even so much as think of you in such a lewd manner, but the ones who did fought tooth and nail to be allowed a fraction of your time and grace.
Tonight, as you lay in one of Liyue Harbor’s most exquisite hotels, it was Zhongli’s turn.
Every “worshiping session” he’d dedicate himself to a new part of your body and tonight’s focus was on your chest.
He’d been so careful in peeling off your garments, making sure not to be too rough – as in his excited state he’d sometimes miscalculate his own strength – or too hasty, wanting to savor the moment your breasts finally revealed themselves to his greedy eyes.
Once they finally are free, he lowers his hands to cup one in each, allowing himself to play with them, all while squeezing and pinching at the fat until the skin turns sensitive, he was never rough, never trying to hurt you, but he couldn’t help the thoughts of simply digging his nails a little deeper to leave a more lasting mark for the next “follower” of yours to find. However, the thought of your pained whines managed to reel him in, for now.
While he uses his hands to massage the general area, his thumbs come and lay above your nipples, making sure to circle the areola, allowing your breasts to process the touch and slowly harden your nipples without him touching them directly. He lets the tip of his fingers trace the spot, teasingly hovering them above your perked nipples before going back to knead your breasts.
You’re panting ever so slightly, the feeling of your breasts being used in such a way sends small waves of pleasure straight into your clit, it leaves you trying desperately to create some sort of friction between your legs. The man above you notices and chuckles, finally giving in to your soft movements of desperation and allowing himself to play with your nipples properly. He takes the hardening nub in between his thumb and index, slowly pinching and pulling at the skin, rubbing your other breasts as lewdly gropes the fat.
“Mhmm…” You whine, bucking your chest into his hands in an attempt to incite more. You bring your hands to meet his own and start instructing them into squeezing your chest tighter and faster, switching between tugging and pinching, kneading and softly-scratching.
“Mh’m, like that?” He chuckles, allowing himself to be guided, only applying pressure every once in a while, teasing your desperate behavior.
“Do more,” you mumble between soft pants, he’s teasing you - purposefully setting a slow pace that has you wanting more - so you decide that the only logical way to get him to stop is by teasing him back, in such a way that he has no choice but to give in and finally drop his frustrating game, “I know you’re better than this, Morax.”
“… Oh?” His expression turns into one of shock and later amusement, almost taken off guard at your words; but he knows His Idol, he knows how much you enjoy playing with him, riling him up until he loses his restraint and gives into his more primal desires.
His eyes darken, his eyelids fluttering and eyebrows turning in amusement, a grin – no, smirk – more akin to that of his younger self takes over, while his golden eyes seem to take an unnatural glow. He leans forward, fully engulfing your body with his own, until his head meets your breasts and you can feel his hot breath against your skin.
“I wouldn’t have thought your excellency to be so greedy,” he chuckles, the warmth he lets out makes you shiver, his hands trace the sides of your breasts while he begins to plant open kisses into your flesh, “mhm… ‘so needy, my love, have the others not been serving you as well as me?”
You groan as you feel him begin to suck at your tits, his tongue poking out and leaving glistening trails of his drool across your skin, it’s gentle, his forked-tongue barely touches your flesh but the ghost of its presence is enough to give you goosebumps.
Zhongli’s mouth occupied itself with your right breast as his hands worked on your left, while he playfully bit and kissed you he made sure to keep stimulating you as much as possible, his hands molded your skin, squeezing and caressing every bit of flesh his palm made contact with. His open-mouthed kisses slow down as he approaches your nipples, he takes his time - making sure to softly graze you with his sharp teeth, making sure to tease you as much as possible while never quite stopping.
Your eyes never once left his, it was overwhelming, as most things were with Zhongli, the pleasure paired with his intense gaze as he made sure to commit every expression of yours to memory would have made anybody flustered.
He laughs but it’s not mocking, his eyes glaze over while he makes a show of finally getting around to sucking on your perked up nipple, he stares at you - as if daring you to look away - while his lips finally latch onto that place you so desperately had wanted them, his cheeks are clearly flushed as he begins to flick at the nub with his tongue while sucking the spot.
Instinctively you arch your back but he quickly uses his own body to drag you down, he moves around a bit, as if trying to find the best position to latch onto you, desperately wanting to overtake your body and shield you from everything that wasn’t him.
His hand cups your breast even as he pulls away with a lewd “pop”, never letting your chest be without some form of stimulation, he licks at the areola, making sure to make a spectacle as his tongue travels across one breast to the other. He switches movement, kissing and sucking while still kneading and pulling. He’s never rough, never cruel in his touch, he’s always so delicate, making sure to treat you with the utmost care.
The feeling of his cool digits after having his warm breath on you is jarring but nevertheless pleasurable, you whine as your hands shoot up to cradle his hair, fingers finding their way onto his silky hair as you unconsciously pull him closer to your body.
He chokes on a moan, his eyes roll back slightly, if there was one thing Zhongli adored was the feeling of your hands pulling against his hair, it was one of those things he could never get enough of. The truth was that this session was fueled by his own selfish desires of being your most devoted lover, your only lover; if there was one thing in this universe he craved more than you was being the owner of the title of your beloved. He hoped that these special sessions between you two would prove that he truly was the only one worthy of such a title.
For who else could have you breaking so beautifully in their hands from pleasure alone? No one, he was the only being able to lure you into such earthly desires, he was sure of it.
His tongue on your nipple, playing with your beautiful body, his hands desperately gripping at your chest, all while he savored the proximity in which he was able to see you fall apart were blessing given to him and him alone, holy gifts from you to him, your ever so loyal servant, who dedicated his heart, soul, and body to you.
Even if you did not know how deeply the devotion he held for you went, you could tell from his aroused state, his never ending servitude, willing disposition, and obsession with pleasing you that you had, knowingly or not, enthralled a man who was now willing to do anything for you.
Just seeing you fall apart from him playing with your chest was enough to have him coming close to his peak, a ball of pleasure forming as he memorized the look of pleasure and bliss that took over your hazy features.
Your breathing is quick, your body feels hot and bothered, his touch is intoxicating, you want more of it and he wants more of you, you’re not able to even so much as forget who it is you’re with for everything he does is so clearly him; no one devoted themselves to you the same way Zhongli did and if there was such a person, he’d make sure to eliminate them before they became a problem.
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natsukishinomiyaswife · 5 months
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⋆ 𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓮𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽: 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 ⋆
Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!
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⋆ Being a celebrity was never easy. The public always having their eye on you, watching your every move. Having to make sure you look perfect, sound perfect, act perfect, all to maintain the image you have created. It can be frustrating, exhausting even, the lengths you have to go through for your career. Though the hardest part for Vil was having to be away from you, his love, his darling.
⋆ He never expected to fall in love until he met you, always focusing on his career. Now when he kisses someone, he longs for it to be you, picturing you as he closes his eyes. When he says sweet words to his costar, he imagines he’s saying them to you, unable to hold back his emotions as he gazes into their eyes, saying he loves them. With you, he was no longer Vil Schoenheit, famous actor. He was just Vil, the dedicated, hardworking man you fell in love with.
⋆ There was no need for masks, for polite words or fake smiles. You knew him for who he was, and loved him for who he was, not for his status or fame. With you he felt seen, he felt heard. The times when he’s had to train for a role, practicing to perfect what he needed to do, you’d be there, recognizing the effort he put in. Even when no one else would, and he felt frustrated and defeated, a simple text from you would make everything worth it.
⋆ Due to his work, there were times where he had to be away, traveling to star in a film or go to a photo shoot. During those times you would stay in contact however you could, through texts or phone calls. He would be sitting in his chair, getting his make up done when his phone goes off, a small smile coming to his face as he sees it’s you. Though he doesn’t have much time to respond, your messages brighten his day, giving him motivation. Knowing that one day you’ll see the film he’s in, or the photo he’s getting taken, makes him want to do the very best he can. He wants your eyes only on him, your attention focused on him and him alone.
⋆ He can’t help but feel proud in those moments, seeing you unable to take your eyes away from the screen. How you would turn to him, telling him in amazement how well he did, how much you loved his performance. Noting all the work he put in for the role, acknowledging his time and dedication. There was no one he wanted to impress more than you, no matter how long you’ve been together.
⋆ There were times when he would miss your presence more than usual, looking at pictures of the two of you fondly. During these times he would feel conflicted, wishing to hear your voice but not wanting to disturb you, a time difference separating you now. In a moment of weakness he would give in, his heart skipping a beat as you answered, sounding like you just woke up. He would apologize for waking you, tempted to hang up. You would reassure him, making yourself more comfortable in your bed as you talked. He told you about his day, how his work was going, how much longer he’d be away. You would listen, humming in acknowledgement as you tried your best to stay awake.
⋆ “You make me so happy, Vil” you mumble sleepily, unaware of your words. The line goes silent, making you think he had hung up. On the other end Vil stared at his phone, quiet as hidden insecurities took hold. With his career and fame you didn’t necessarily have a “normal” relationship, Vil keeping it a secret from the public. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, to keep you to himself. Were you truly happy with that? With him being away for long periods of time, unable to show you off as you deserved?
⋆ “…do you mean it?” he whispers, desperately wanting to take it back as soon as it spilled out. It took a moment before you responded, sounding more awake this time,
“There is no one I would want to be with but you, Vil. No one could ever make me as happy as you have.”
⋆ He shuts his eyes, taking a shaky breath at your words. You knew him so well, his doubts, his insecurities. How could he ever be with anyone but you, fall for anyone but you. You’ve ruined him, utterly and completely.
“There is no such thing as a happy ending if it doesn’t include you, my love. So stay with me, please. That’s all I ask.” ♡
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Originally posted: February 26th, 2024
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
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gingernut1314 · 3 months
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Call Me Baby
SDC x SDC!GN!Reader
Summary: The Stardust Crusaders need to know why you called them by their name.
Warnings: Takes place in JJBA part 3, Jotaro's kinda of goes past part 3 cause I wanted to lolol, established relationships, slight misuse of a Star Platinum??? (I say it's the only right way to use a stand buuuuuttt......), I'm pretending like Suzi Q was never in the picture (love you queen, but your husband is hot so you can travel with Lisa-Lisa) but yall are free to do as you do, the slightest mention of spice, Iggy is a PET/DOG only
Word Count: 760+, 680+, 560+, 700+ , 760+, 450+, Total: 3.9K
Song:
BABYDOLL Youtube | Spotify
A/N: because I JUST WANT TO CALL THEM MY BABY SORRY NOT SORRY
Taglist: @cinnbar-bun @lostfirefly
↞ to Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠
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Jotaro Kujo 😒🐬
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Jotaro will never admit it, but he loves that you call me baby/babe
At first, he grumbles and tells you to stop but the more you do it, the more it grows on him and the less he’ll complain
When the other Crusaders get on him for it, he’ll tell them to shut the hell up as he simply grabs your upper arm and drags you further along and away from them as they cackle like utter fools.
He’s been through all the teasing and continues to let you call him that silly-ass pet name even when he utterly dislikes it (Errrrrrr--fake. He lies to himself)
So when you call him by his name on a random Tuesday afternoon he doesn’t know what to make of it
What the hell were you doing calling him by his name?
He won't respond and continues to read his book in the living room of your shared home
You’ll call for him again, thinking he didn’t hear you the first time
but this time he’ll turn his sharp, green eyes up to look at you from underneath the visor of his hat
“Who the hell are you calling for?” He asks, letting his irritation get the best of him. You just blink because what is he talking about? It’s only the two of you here. Who else would you be calling for?
“Your name is Jotaro, isn’t it? I’m calling for you so get your ass up and come help me with this. I can’t reach--”
“No.” He simply says, returning his eyes to his book. You grit your teeth and stare daggers into him, trying to think of what the hell he was going on in his mind--what the hell he was playing at
“Jotaro.” No response. “This isn’t funny.” A flip of the page in his book. 
You march over to him with a huff of annoyed air, the book he’s trained his eyes on snapped shut with a simple movement of your hand. You leaned down, placing a hand on the armrest next to him so that you could look upon the entirety of his flawless face under his hat.
“Remember what we’ve gone over together about telling each other our feelings because some of us would prefer to bottle it up and storm around all grumpy?” Those green eyes snapped up to look at you again.
“You’re starting to piss me off now.” You give him an all too bright smile, bringing your other hand up to pat his cheek in a way you knew would only piss him off further.
“Aww see, Jotaro. That’s not so hard.” You tease only for his hand to grab hold of your wrist faster than lighting, yanking you closer so that you see his displeasure up close and personal. 
“You’ll stop calling me that right now.” You blink in utter confusion at his gritted-out words.
“Then what am I supposed to--” It clicked then what he’s so worked up about. Why he keeps insisting you not to use his name. It makes your heart flutter to think that he might actually like being called by that pet name. “Oh--oh you sweet thing.” You purr in teasingly, only making those eyes of his hardened further. His grip on your wrist tightened. “You just want me to call you my baby, right?” 
Jotaro lets you go then, going for the closed book in his lap in his own unique way to end the conversation there. Oh, but you are fully invested. You weren’t going to just drop it as you might usually do. No. Not when he’s put on such a show for you. 
“Baby,” You say, lowly, stopping the books to travel upward. You watched his shoulders relax at the pet name. Such a small release of tension you hadn’t even noticed added before. “Can you please grab the tupperware from the top cabinet for me? The one with the red lid? I need it down so I can pack some goodies for your mother when we go to visit her tonight.” 
“Fine.” He said, going to stand from his seat, but you kept him caged in. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face as you looked over his features, which he always tried to keep oh so emotionless. 
You leaned in, placing a quick peck to his feather-soft lips. 
“Thank you, babe.” You said, moving away so that he could stand. 
“Good grief.” He grumbled, sounding and looking all so annoyed, but he couldn’t control Star Platinum from popping an arm out to give your hand a quick squeeze.
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Joseph Joestar 🏃‍♂️🛬
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He’s calling you babe/baby
You’re calling him babe/baby
He hasn’t given you a choice in the matter and neither have you
It’s second nature
It’s his and yours second name
So when you call him by his first name, it can only mean one of three things
1) You’re in his arms moaning it for all to hear and making his already too-big ego even bigger
2) he’s dying/in danger and you're screaming at him to not be as such
Or 3) you’re completely and utterly furious with him and are about to murder him
But, as he’s joining the other Crusaders all gathered in the hallway of the hotel room they had picked out and hears his name growled out like it had come from the lips of some great bloodthirsty beast, he knows he’s about to get completely wiped from the face of the earth by your hand 
“OH MY GOD!” Joseph shouts, heart coming to a full stop in his chest. “Hide me! Hide me now.” He all but begs to the group.
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Polnareff teases as Joseph grabs for his arm.
“What the hell did you do now, old man?” Jotaro asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
“I don’t know!” Joseph just managed to get out before the door to your hotel room swung open with a bang. He gives a shout in fright as he pulls Polnareff in front of him in an attempt to hide himself. 
“Joseph Joestar.” You fume, marching down the hall towards the group. 
“Last name too. Huh.” Kakyoin observes from where he stood next to Jotaro. 
“Get your ass over here. Right. Now.” You hiss, shoving Polnareff out of your way. The Frenchman began to laugh hysterically, unable to keep it down any longer.
“What? You’re gonna have to speak up, my sweet honey bunch, sugar pie, love of my life. My hearing isn’t how it once was.” Joseph panicked, reaching for Avdol’s arm only for the fortuneteller to move out of the way. 
“Forgive me, friend. This is your battle alone.”
“But--but--” A hand grabbing hold of his shirt froze him in his place. “B-baby…hey. Mornin’.” He said, slowly turning around to face your wrath. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today? No?” He gently unraveled your fingers from his shirt to hold it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just--look at you. You take my damn breath--”
“Joseph.” The man gave a sharp gulp at his name spoken in such a threatening way.
“Yes, sweetness?” He said, trying to soften your anger one last time with pet names and caresses against the skin of your hand.
“What is the one thing I have asked you to stop doing time and time again?” Joseph’s brown eyes flickered towards his grandson as he thought. Jotaro only pulled his hat further down his head to keep himself out of it. 
“Uh--not to use your hairbrush?” You shook your head. “Not to…eat your snacks?” Yet another shake of your head. 
“Nope. Want to take one more guess?”
“I--Do I want to?” Joseph said with a nervous laugh. 
“Next you’ll say: Sorry, babe. I was in such a rush this morning I completely forgot to not use your hair products because my hair could never be as beautiful and luscious as yours.” You said all too sweetly in the face of such anger you had been presenting.
“Heh, heh…babe, you know that's my lin--OH NO!” Joseph shouted, as you yanked him down, knocked his hat off his head, and gave his hair a good ruffle to mess up all the work he had done using your products. 
“Don’t do it again, Joestar.” You hissed, in his face, now sporting a too-cute pout. It made your anger bank the slightest. You could never resist that face, even when he drove you utterly crazy. “Find us a good breakfast place baby, and I’ll forgive you.” Joseph’s face instantly brightened and he placed a big, old smooch on your cheek. 
“You’re in luck, baby because I know just the place.”
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Muhammad Avdol 🔥🦅
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He’s not going to be the biggest when it comes to calling you baby/babe
But please go ahead and call him baby/babe
He loves it
He loves it so much he finds himself doing more and more romantic things for you just to keep pulling the pet name from your lips
He’ll shower you in flowers and small gifts and forehead kisses and praises all to have you call him baby
When he’s feeling more goofy or happy, you’ll find him calling you baby/babe right back
So on the rare occasion you call him by name, he can’t help but feel disappointed
“Have I done something to upset you?” He’ll ask softly, brows furrowed as he focused his whole attention onto you. 
“What? No. Why would I be upset with you?” You asked, turning to face him fully, your own concern etched onto your face. “I was just asking for you to pass me another napkin.” 
“Oh.” Avdol mutters in a small voice you hardly ever heard him speak in. He hadn’t even heard your question, just the utter lack of the pet name. You watched him carefully as he grabbed a napkin from the small pile the waiter had brought the group. “Here you go.” 
“Thank you.” You said, taking the napkin from his warm fingers. He turned back to the food on his plate, taking his fork back into his hand but making no move to begin eating. 
Had you done something to upset him? 
You couldn’t think of a single thing that might have done that, but something was clearly wrong. You reached a hand out to brush your knuckles over his cheek, gaining the attention of those bright brown eyes of his. He leaned into your touch, giving you an all too pinched smile. 
“What’s up?” You asked, moving you knuckles over his cheek once more. 
“Nothing. Truly. How are you liking--” “Hey--stop. Tell me what I did, okay.” You watched him pause, eyes taking in yours before his hand came up to keep yours against his cheek.
“It’s silly.” He said and you could see the slight embarrassment rising in his features. 
“I doubt it. You can tell me.” He gave you a lovely smile, squeezing your hand gently. 
“You said my name. I told you, it’s very silly.” You knew what you’d done instantly. 
“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” That smile of his only grew at the pet name. “I--you’re name is just so beautiful I just want to use it here and there.” You felt the skin of his cheek grow even warmer at your words. 
“Geez--can you two get a room.” Polnareff huffed from where you sat beside Avdol, arms crossed and a deep pout on his lips.
“Jealous?” Avdol teased the Frenchmen with a rumbling chuckle. “I don’t have any doubt you’ll find someone to call baby soon.” You couldn’t help the smile that pulled to your lips at the flutter of happiness in your chest. 
“Me? Jealous? Never.” Polnareff contiuned as you moved to take Avdol’s hand within your own. You brought it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss his skin. Those brilliantly bright eyes turned back to find you once more at the touch. 
“I love you, baby.” You murmured against his skin. 
“I love you too…baby.” He said a small smirk on his lips that had a small laugh pull at your throat.
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Noriaki Kakyoin 🍒💚
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He’s not used to the whole relationship thing
So don’t expect him to instantly be calling you baby/babe 
He might not even say it all, feeling too--strange saying it
But go ahead a call him baby/babe
He likes it
No--no he loves it
He especially loves it when you call him baby/babe when excited
The spark in your eyes as you jump and giggle and call for him using that pet name to show him whatever had gotten you this excited is addicting to him
It's especially addicting when you take his hand in your excitement 
So when you call for him using his name, he’s frozen in his spot looking towards Mr. Joestar, Polnareff, and Avdol for help
Because they might have more insight into the situation than he ever would hope to have
“Oooo--you’re in trouble now.” Polnareff teases, making Kakyoin’s anxiety spike in his chest as the Frenchmen elbows Advol playfully, though the fortune teller made no move to help or laugh. 
“T-trouble? What did I do?” Kakyoin asked, racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. 
“Beats us bud.” Mr. Joestar added, his own snickers adding to Kakyoin’s stress. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”
“But--I didn’t do--” You call his name again, cutting off Kakyoin’s frantic rush to figure out what might be wrong off. He snapped around to find you all but bouncing down the street towards the group, Joatro following behind in his typical unhurried state. Kakyoin tried to catch Jotaro’s eye, to try to keep figuring out why you might possibly be using his name, but his friend kept the visor of his hat down. 
“Y-yes?” He asked as you came to a stop before him, a bright smile on your lips. 
You didn’t seem upset. You looked all too happy to be upset…but maybe it was a trap of some sort? Maybe you were trying to get him to drop his guard so you could better shout your anger at him. 
You paused in what you were about to say, brows furrowing as you took in his panicked and stressed state. 
“Something wrong?” You asked, only making the snickering from Polnareff and Mr. Joestar harder. You took in this and then his state and felt anger begin to build in your chest.
Had they said something to him? If they had, oh were you more than ready to give them hell. 
“Kakyoin, what happened?” He seemed to sink into himself, eyes winching as he scanned over your features, which were growing more and more pissed by the second. 
“I-I don’t know. I think--did I do something wrong? Did I upset you?”
“Do something wrong? Why would you think you did something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. 
“I don’t know. You just said my name and I don’t know--” He gave a deep sigh, looking away from you as embarrassment began to creep into his eyes. 
“Wait--You’re name? That’s why you think something’s wrong? Because I said your name?” Kakyoin glanced back at you, a small shrug on his shoulders. 
“You only ever call me baby.” Your heart hurt a bit when he finally expressed what was truly bugging him. 
“I’m--no I’m not upset at you. I like your name. I like calling you baby. I like both so I just--switched. I’m sorry sweetheart.” You said, rubbing his arm to try and soothe him. Kakyoin seemed to relax, a smile pulling at his thin lips. 
“O-oh…I feel a bit silly now.” You pulled a bright smile to your lips as you shook your head.
“No. Baby, I don’t think so at all.” That stress continued to ease within Kakyoin and it only made you even happier. “Especially when you have those two idiots whispering in your ear no doubt.” You said, shooting them a daggered glare that had their snickers turned into their own panic. 
“Come on, I found this little tea shop that’s selling a cherry tea you need to try. It’s to die for!” You said, moving your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers within his. Kakyoin was more than happy to take it and follow you.
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Jean Pierre Polnareff 💔🗡️
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Deep inhale…
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE CALL THIS MAN BABY
CALL HIM BABE
CALL HIM BABY GIRL 
He needs you to call him every last pet name in the world and then some
And he’ll do it back
He’ll do it back SO MUCH LIKE
It’s in his DNA. He can’t help it. It needs to be said right alongside every other pet name and praise he can think up 
He’s bursting at the seams every morning to wake up and whisper a “good morning, baby.” against your lips 
And he’s just as excited to whisper a “good night, baby.” before you two drift asleep wrapped in each other's arms
He melts into a puddle every time you call him baby/babe
Like--just puddy in your hand
So when you say his name--not even his first name--he’s completely coming apart at the seams panicked.
“Mon coeur, what have I done to deserve such harsh treatment?” He cried, tears brimming in his gray eyes as he grabbed your hands up in his own. His lips peppered each with kisses, flipping them over so he could do the same thing to your palms and inner wrists. It was a flurry of kisses that had your slight annoyance ebbing in your chest even when you fought so hard to keep it. 
“You didn’t take me with you to grab supplies.” You played up your anger with a humph, turning your face away from his utterly forlorned one. 
“Forgive me, please. You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel. Mon Ange.” His kisses continued to travel up your arm. It made your skin tingle and your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest. 
“When have I ever cared about you waking me up, Polnareff?” You said his name only to pull a mournful cry from his lips. “What if something had happened to you? What if you had gotten hurt? Hum? What then? That would kill me.” Polnareff’s lips left your skin only so that he could pull you into his arms, trying his best to find your gaze but you continued to look away. To turn him into a near whiny mess as you crossed your arms, preventing him from pulling you flush against his chest. 
You were serious about him going off on his own. He should never go off on his own while on this journey. Not when he had been attacked while all on his lonesome one too many times for your liking.
“Je suis désolé. Please forgive me.” You peeked a glance his way, keeping your features and eyes stern compared to his pleading, pouting face that nearly had you breaking down and forgetting about the whole thing.
“Promise me you’ll never do it again.” Polnareff nodded, pulling a hand away from you only so he could stick a pinky finger up. 
“I pinky promise, mon amour.” You eyed his pinky, then his big old puppy eyes and gave a soft sigh. Your pinky found its way around his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, which you gave right back. 
“I’m serious. I don’t know what I would do if you got--really hurt.” You said, feeling your heart twist painfully at the thought of your best friend and the love of your life getting more than hurt. Polnareff’s soft, needy features shifted suddenly into that of complete and utter seriousness as he leaned in closer to you. 
“I will try my best to keep myself safe, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe above all else.” You watched him for a long moment. Watched him and just felt your love for him grow with each passing second. 
You gave in fully then, pulling your hand away from his so that you could gently cup his cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes to press a soft, tender kiss to those warm lips of his. Lips that had stars bursting behind your eyes and making you feel like you were standing on top of the world. He sighed into your kiss, holding you tighter against him and never once threatening to let go.
“Amour?” He questioned, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You opened your eyes to find that soft, needy look had returned. 
“Yes?” 
“Please call me baby. I cannot take it any longer.” He begged, a deep blush crawling over his cheeks and neck. You chuckled, rubbing circles into his pink-dusted cheeks. 
“Baby,” A bright smile pulled at his lips, his grip pulling you ever closer. “I love you.”
“Je t’amie.” He whispered before claiming your lips all over again.
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Iggy 🐕💨
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CALL THIS PUPPY A GOOD SWEET BABY BOY 
Give him some coffee-flavored gum while you do and you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life
Will only let you pick him up, pet him, and scratch his belly once you’ve gained his trust
He’ll grow so loyal he’ll start getting a bit possessive of you if any other the Crasuders make you upset or threaten to even touch you
Their hair
Gone
Their lungs
Invaded with the foul smell of a ripe fart
Call him a baby while he falls asleep in your lap 
Just
Please call him a good, sweet baby
He’s ugly and a bit of a menace but he just needs someone to be gentle and sweet to him
“Whose the best baby boy in the world? Hum? Who is?” You ask as you pepper kiss upon kiss to his ugly little face. Iggy's little tail is waggling so much it's moving his whole body in his excitement. “The most handsome baby boy in the whole world.” 
“The most handsome? Hardly.” Polnareff huffs from where he sits next to you on the ground, arms crossed and eyes staring daggers up at the dog. “Have you seen me? I’m a cute baby boy too.” He huffs, making Iggy pause in his excitement. 
“Polnareff, you are fighting with a dog.” Polnareff growls. 
“That is no mere dog. No. That’s a devil. A foul beast come straight from hell itself to torment my innocent soul.” Polnareff hisses making you roll your eyes. 
“So mean to the itty bitty baby.” You said, voice turning back into that of a coo, placing another smooching kiss on Iggy’s stubby muzzle. Though, Iggy had now set his buggish blue eyes on Polnareff. 
“What’s he looking at?” Polnareff asked, panic rising in his voice.  
“What? This baby? He’s just looking at you. Probably wants a pet.” Polnareff’s eyes fly wide as he rushes to his feet, trying to create as much distance as he can between him and the dog. 
“Keep the demon away from me and my hair. I just fixed it.” He all but whined as Iggy began to wiggle in your grip, a growl on his lips. 
“He hardly did any damage. He’s just a good baby.” You said, loosening your grip on the short-haired dog. 
“Hardly any damage!” Polnareff shouted, taking on a defensive stance. “He tore it out!” You huffed, patting Iggy’s round belly as he continued to pull himself from your grip. 
“It wasn’t that--” Iggy shot from your arms and latched onto Polnareff’s face, becoming a storm of teeth and farts and growls that had you wincing in pity for the Frenchman, who shouted and screamed away. “…bad.”
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lucysarah-c · 3 months
Note
I apologize if this has been asked before but what do you think Levi's kinks are? :)
Hi, sweetie! Oh, do not worry, no need to apologize! I haven’t received this ask before, and even if I did, it’s not a biggie. I could just attach a link to that ask here <3 Do not worry.
MH, Levi’s kinks… good question.
Power play for sure. Have you seen this man say that “pain is the best discipline”? He's always 100% down to teach you your place, at least in the bedroom. Outside of it, he deeply respects your position. Inside the room? Oh baby girl, he wants you to know he’s in charge and could spend his entire life reminding you of it.
…Shibari or tying up. Have you seen those uniforms? Levi sees that harness and deep down he wonders how pretty you would look all tied up. This one is a bit more tricky, so he and you may work around it to see how much of it you're both into.
Overstimulation, absolutely. Those Ackerman powers are a blessing; he knows he can last for hours. Can you? Oh, it's okay, baby, don’t be scared. He'll just have to keep fucking you, and if by any means you end up feeling like your legs are made of jelly from all the times he made you cum… well, I guess that’s the consequence of dating humanity’s strongest soldier. I think he could just feel getting hard, or getting cocky by feeling how you shake against his face as he keeps eating you out like a thirsty man who had been traveling across a desert. The idea that he left you completely and absolutely destroyed makes him feel so cocky. You can accuse this man of many things, but leaving you unsatisfied in bed isn’t one of them.
Degradation and praise kink. Depending on the situation and his mood, he can go either way or BOTH at the same time. “Aw, you look so pretty riding my cock. You’re doing amazing, girly. Mh? Enjoy that dick?” you will nod as you ride him with all your life “I bet. What a dirty little cock whore you turned out to be.”
Alright, maybe this one isn’t popular and maybe it's a bit OOC on my part… Corruption kink. At multiple times in his life, as the famous former thug who lived in the most dangerous part inside the walls, the idea of getting you, looking at him with doe eyes through your eyelashes, faking innocence or truly having it… I can literally picture him thinking, “Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t have much experience or doesn’t know how to make me feel good yet. I’m a very good and patient teacher… have an entire lifetime to mold her into perfection.” He likes to save the best for last; this man would enjoy every single little detail of seeing you fall into the beautiful dark pleasure he can show you.
Those are the ones that come to mind rather quickly…
I’ll give you (as if my ramblings are worthy material to be gifted, lmao) 2 kinks that I DON’T think Levi has and I believe are very popular.
Breeding kink. Like this one, maybe depending on the situation and if it’s a “game” kind of thing. But I feel Levi is a person who takes paternity very seriously; it has to be a VERY particular scenario for me (at least canon Levi) where he’s like, “fuck it, yeah let’s risk getting you pregnant.” BUT it’s a kink I can see A LOT more in Post-War Levi; it’s not that he doesn’t want to breed you… he’s just too responsible to take the risk.
Daddy. HAHA I feel like if you called Levi that in the middle of sex, he would freeze a little and be like, “Sir? Yes. Captain? Absolutely. What did you just say? Just… no.” I dare to say that if you bring it up playfully, perhaps as a joke, he will wrinkle his nose and say, “If you want to fuck Erwin, just say it, but don’t bring that shit into my bedroom.”
I had fun writing this one; I feel it’s a classic “Levi’s blog” ask that surprisingly I’ve never received before! Thank you for that! Hope this was good enough.
Have a lovely day.
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @storiesofsung @galactict3a @twruui @lemonsupernova @r3becca_0 @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @hyuckwon-my-husbands Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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gogomatthew · 10 months
Note
Request: (Smut)
Hotch gives Spencer the lead on a new case. And when Y/N doesn’t do what Spencer said to do- well let’s say when they get home she gets punished.
Just you wait
SPENCER REID X FEM!READER
summary: being from a different department and working with your fiancé was always great except but things change when you don’t seem to obey his orders
warnings: choking • punishment • spanking • sub!dom dynamics • cursing • arguing • bj • PV •
a/n: english isn’t my first language so I apologize for any gramatical errors! I don’t really see Spencer as a dom tbh so this was a little difficult for me to write sorry if its not exactly what you wanted honestly it was rushed :/
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!! 18+ SMUT AHEAD
“I dont feel great about this just so you know” Emily says as you both enter the DCPD. “You think I do? but we can’t prioritize feelings over case right now” Emily sighs as you squeeze the orange envelope filled with new pictures of the crime scene between your fingers subconsciously releasing your stress onto it with a deep breath.
You see a lanky figure make his way towards both of you with a glare of disbelief plastered on his face. “You went behind my back?” though his tone is angry theres hurt laced between his words. “Im sorry but we found new evidence that-” he cuts you off “I dont care right now! Im leading this case and I told everyone to stay away from the scene until further notice. You cant just ignore my authority!” his eyes switch back and forth between you and Emily
“I work for a different department” Emily just sighs and throws her hands up in surrender as she walk away past Spencer after realizing the conflict just got a little personal. Spencer runs his hands down his face in defeated frustration causing his words to come out slightly muffled “Am I joke to you? seriously am I? I know you work for a different department but you never seem to have a problem obeying Hotch..” his hands fall back to his sides as he grabs the envelope from you and storms off leaving you there with your thoughts.
For some cases your department sent you out as the traveling detective to help out the BAU and you never had a problem working along side your fiancé I mean this job is what brought you both together but having him as your acting boss was slightly different. Its not that you didn’t respect his authority you just didn’t understand his judgment at this moment. He knew how your job functioned and always did his best to help you with whatever you needed but right now he was stopping you from doing your job and you were worried about him but there were victims at risk.
Hypothetically he would’ve been fine if..
If Hotch wasn’t hovering
If the geographical range wasnt so large
If the building wasnt so loud
If the PD didn’t see him as joke
if it wasn’t dangerous for his agents to leave the building alone
ect,, there were too many thoughts taking over and none of them were good.
Thankfully the evidence you and Emily found was crucial to the investigation and even though he was still under immense stress you felt as if at least you took a little weight off Spencers shoulders although that didint mean he was pleased with your actions. He avoided you throughout the day even after the unsub was caught not even breaking the silence on the car ride home. Before you can even finish parking Spencer is stepping out of the car and entering your shared apartment before you.
You make your way inside not too long after him with tears of pent up frustration brimming your eyes and threatening to fall only for those thoughts to be forgotten as your head gently hits the wall. Spencer has you pinned by his large hand lightly squeezing your neck the way he knows you love as his other hand holds both of your wrists between his fingers. “what was that today? first you ignore my authority..” a squeeze to your neck as his raspy voice lingers closer to your slightly open mouth “and then you humiliate me?” another squeeze and the tears fall alongside a whimper “why’re you crying baby? you know I just wanna keep you safe and thats why I couldn’t let you go to the scene” his tone is genuine care mixed with condensation as he looks you up and down hungrily “but you just had to ignore me and im gonna have to make you learn your lesson” his grip on your throat loosens as his hand gently strokes your face wiping away your tears “m- sorry” you choke out as he ghosts his lips over yours, his hot breath makes your thighs clench.
“I know you are but its too late now” his grip on you loosens and he pushes you down harshly to your knees as he undoes his belt without a word. As he frees his cock from his boxers he gives it 2 slow strokes “open” he simply says and you obey, taking him into your mouth eagerly. What you cant fit into your mouth you pump with you hand causing his breath to hitch at the stimulation. Spencer strokes his finger through your hair before fisting it and thrusting his hips into your mouth. He’s vocal and hes not shy about it, his moans come out strained and loud as you feel his dick twitch on your tongue getting ready to have your throat welcome in his load despite your gagging until he pushes you away “d-dont wanna cum yet.. gonna make you beg for it first” he says out of breath as he lifts you off the ground and into the bedroom.
“take it off.. I want a show” with a gulp you start unbuttoning your blouse slowly trying not to seem to desperate and take your pants off as he eyes you lustfuly. You are completely nude to him as his shirt and boxers remain “come here” you walk over to him cautiously and he sits you down on his thigh resting his hands on your hips slowly rocking you back and forth causing a moan to drop from your parted lips. “mm” you start rocking yourself faster as he removes his touch from you depriving you “please” he fake pouts “please what? I need to hear it” a desperate cry leaves your mouth knowing you wont be able to cum just from his thigh “I need you” he chuckles “need what? my fingers?” his hand cups your dripping cunt teasing your entrance with his fingers “n-no your-” a whimper leaves your throat “your cock”
one last look at you and he’s flipping you over so hes caging your body under his own. He grabs his dick in his hand and pushes it into your entrance without warning or giving you time to adjust. His hand finds its way back to your throat making your sounds of pain and pleasure sound strained. His thrusts dont have a rhythm theyre just ruthless and fast. “hah- ah you crying? im just correcting your behavior” his cock brushes your g spot so good it makes you forget how to talk “you know that right baby?” now this is condescending but you cant find it in you to care right now, the pleasure taking over “say it.. say you deserve this” his hold on your throat releasing so he can hold onto the bed frame to go deeper against your sensitive spot “ahh say it” with a yelp you manage to push the words out “I-I deserve t-this” his thrust dont let up it just fuels him on even more “wasnt gonna let you c-cum tonight but I think id rather fuck you stupid ah- what’d you think about that?” he knows you’re already seconds away from your orgasm as your eyes start rolling to the back of your head and you cant provide any actual words. His free hand makes its way down to your clit desperate to make you his own little fuck toy. Your legs start shaking erratically and without a warning you cum all over spencers aching cock with him hot on your heels. You pant but before you have time to catch your breath you’re roughly flipped over onto your stomach as a rough slap lands on your ass
“im not done with you yet”
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seabirdtxt · 1 year
Text
Glitch in Irminsul
The creator descends to Teyvat, but the information they know VS the information that Irminsul retains causes the tree of knowledge to glitch out and ‘branches’ the current known state of Teyvat, and the information that was erased blooms into existence once more [Blog tag] [next >]
Notes: SAGAU, Reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. there ARE shenanigans of a different kind though. No romantic relationships in this one despite aforementioned shenanigans
WC. 3.8k
----- ⚘ -----
“You’re just mad because I’m the Creator’s babygirl, and you’re not.”
You’ve never heard such an absurd sentence in your life, but the hands on his hips and smug expression on the Wanderer’s face is unmistakable. Across from him, just barely restrained by Lord Rukkhadevata hooking her arms under his shoulders, is an apoplectic Scaramouche. 
Nobody is entirely sure what happened to Irminsul, yet, but the Tree of Wisdom continues to cheerfully cast its divine light on the scene below without a single care for the chaos it has caused.
“Now now, let’s all settle down for a moment,” Nahida grasps at Wanderer’s sleeves, trying to pull him back from the increasingly tense situation. You can’t help but think of two dogs pulling at the end of their leashes to bark at each other. “I’m sure there is a perfectly logical reason why this is happening.”
You think it might be because of you, considering this all happened when you made your inopportune arrival in Teyvat and accidentally cut your hand on the stem of a Leyline flower, your blood glittering strangely as it was sucked into the plant. 
“There’s no way you’re the Creator’s favourite,” Scaramouche sneers, ignoring Nahida in his effort to escape from Rukkhadevata’s grasp. “You’re just a glorified errand-boy for your betters. I have the power of a Fatui Harbinger at my fingertips! Countless soldiers, ready to live and die by my whims!” 
“Ha!” Wanderer brushes off Nahida’s attempts to restrain him. He moves her to the side, far more gently than you expected him to, and strides up to where Lord Rukkhadevata is holding Scaramouche. He pokes the Balladeer’s cheek and smirks when he nearly gets his fingertip bit off. “And what has that gotten you so far? You still haven’t gotten to be a true god. On the other hand, I’m on the Creator’s main exploration team, along with the Traveler and other equally powerful Vision wielders. At least I have proof that I’m favoured.”
The light from Irminsul glints off the polished metal of Wanderer’s anemo Vision, and Scaramouche’s frown deepens.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone and their mothers can get a Vision these days.” He waves his hand dismissively as best as he can. “Need I remind you of the Vision Hunt Decree project that I—oh, sorry, I mean you—spearheaded? Those things come a mora a dozen.”
“I think you’re both wrong, clearly the Creator likes me the best!”
The two incarnations turn toward the new voice so quickly you’re nearly afraid their heads might snap off. Picture this: you, sitting sideways across Kabukimono's lap with your arms around his neck in a hug as he rocks the two of you back and forth. You wonder if Kabukimono is aware of the effect his words have on his other selves, but judging by his ‘cat that caught the canary’ expression he most definitely is.
The look Wanderer gives you is nearly scandalized, and you can only shrug at him with a helpless smile.
“Sorry guys… but look at him! Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” you bring a hand up and pinch Kabukimono’s cheek, causing him to giggle and kick his legs in surprise, nearly dislodging you from your spot.
“He’s kinda pathetic, really.” Scaramouche deadpans, finally having stopped struggling in Rukkhadevata’s hold, and attempts to cross his arms.
“He’s you. You don’t have to like him, but at least be polite.” the Greater Lord scolds, making him yelp by shaking him like a sack of rocks. She then changes to a more matter-of-fact tone as she shakes her hair out of her face, and adds: “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
“I agree, let’s talk this over like grown-ups, and get to the bottom of this mystery so we can send you all back home to your correct timelines!” Nahida claps her hands together, interrupting any argument that might break out at Rukkhadevata’s statement. Her smile is starting to look a little strained at the edges and you can’t help but feel a little bad for the tiny god.
“This might be the only correct timeline,” the Traveler mutters, chin resting in their hand where they sit propped up against one of Irminsul’s invisible walls. 
“That’s right!” Paimon nods and shakes her finger at Nahida. “We assumed only the Descenders’ memories would remain intact when someone erases themself from Irminsul, but clearly the Creator’s memories still exist too!”
Lord Rukkhadevata drops Scaramouche at last, letting him land on the ground with an annoyed oof, and turns to you consideringly. The taller god glances between you and Irminsul, worrying her bottom lip as she thinks.
“If that were wholly true, then wouldn’t I have reappeared in my last known state, diminished to the form of a child due to having depleted my power?” she wonders. “And for that matter, why have two versions of the Wanderer appeared, when the previous erased timeline only contained the Balladeer?”
The Traveler hums as they begin to think out loud, and your attention shifts to them when they address you. “When we found you, your Grace, you were recently injured by a Leyline blossom, correct?”
You nod in agreement, not bothering to speak as you settle more comfortably into Kabukimono’s arms, the long sleeves of his kimono wrapping over you like a blanket. Whatever mechanism is inside him causes his entire chest to vibrate against the side of your head, as if he’s purring.
“And you did mention that your blood was absorbed into the flower, which we know is an extension of the Tree of Wisdom…”
“I think I can see where you’re going with this, Traveler,” Nahida interrupts. Using her power, she draws two green puzzle pieces in the air and slowly pushes them together until one of them overlaps with the other. “If the Creator’s memories are intact, then it stands to reason that, should their memories somehow be introduced into Irminsul, then the information with the greater priority will overwrite the previous existing information.”
“That still doesn’t explain why there’s three of me.” Wanderer crosses his arms and kicks Scaramouche, who has yet to get up. The Balladeer crosses his own arms, pointedly ignoring his newer incarnation.
“I believe I can answer that, now.” Lord Rukkhadevata jerks her thumb toward the Tree of Wisdom. “Having known Irminsul my entire existence, I can sense that there have been deviations in its growth. Where normally the trunk and branches originate from a single organism, there are now several branches that seem to be… grafted, for lack of a better term, onto the main plant. Likely a result of the Creator’s mishap.”
“So instead of overwriting or restoring knowledge into the correct branches, it just got added on to the side?” Paimon asks, floating closer to the tree before the Traveler grabs her by the back of her cloak and pulls her back before she can accidentally touch any of the sprouts.
Nahida claps excitedly. “Correct! All available information is now running concurrently, meaning that all states of being have been altered to allow the five of us to exist at the same time!”
“Oh!” you exclaim, startling Kabukimono out of his contented state. “Like a glitch in the matrix!”
Seven pairs of eyes turn directly toward you, varying degrees of bemusement on each of their faces. You chuckle a bit and sink further into Kabukimono’s lap out of embarrassment. He dutifully wraps his arms tighter around you, obscuring you with his long sleeves.
“So we’re just going to let you not elaborate on that at all?” Scaramouche drawls, throwing a hand in your direction. “By all means, keep us in suspense. It’s not like we need to know what our situation is or anything.”
“It’s really not that helpful, I promise!” you tell them, muffled by the kimono’s fabric. “It’s just… a figure of speech, I guess? It’s just something we say when something unexplainable happens. It’s based off this story where, like, the world is fake-” 
At this, Scaramouche and the Wanderer share a brief glance, unnoticed by the rest.
“- and everything is programmed to be a certain way. So when something unexplainable happens, like if you see a black cat walking past you and then a minute later the exact same cat walks past you again! It’s an error, or a glitch, in the programming of the world.”
Nahida and Rukkhadevata head over to investigate the new growths on Irminsul, discussing what you’ve told them in hushed voices, leaving the Traveler to mitigate the situation with the three puppets. Kabukimono clings to you as Scaramouche attempts to pull you out of his lap, the two of them making you wince as you’re forced to withstand their tug of war.
“No! The Creator is my friend now!” Kabukimono protests. “Stop pulling, you’ll hurt them!”
“Then let go and it won’t hurt them anymore, stupid!”
“Niwa told me you have to be nice to people if you want them to do things for you.”
“I know for a fact your precious Niwa also said I’m allowed to take whatever the hell I want, so give!”
“I really don’t think that’s what he meant by that,” Wanderer interjects, coming between the two of them and forcing them apart. “Besides, does the creator call you guys babygirl? No? Didn’t think so, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”
Taking advantage of their surprise, Wanderer scoops you up and launches into the air, anemo power whirring behind him, putting you both out of reach. You shriek at the sudden movement, holding onto the front of Wanderer’s outfit for dear life.
“What, this again? I’m not sure if you want me to be jealous of you, or pity you.” Scaramouche scowls up at where you two are hovering. He tries to look unaffected but you can see him clenching his fists at his side.
“I still don’t actually know what that’s supposed to mean…” Kabukimono wrings his hands and looks between you and the Traveler, who supplies an explanation for you.
“It’s just a term of endearment from the Creator’s world,” they say. “You wouldn’t believe how often I had to hear it when they were possessing me-”
“Hey, what are you doing?!”
Everyone turns to look at where you and Wanderer are. The puppet is trying not to drop you while also batting away your attempts at removing the outer layer of his outfit.  
“Hold still!” you grumble. “I’m just trying to figure out if you can purr, too, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of your anemo ability.”
“What are you talking about?! I don’t purr!”
“I do!”
The four of you turn to Kabukimono as he demonstrates the ability, the mechanisms in him working overtime to produce a loud rumble from his chest. The Traveler and Paimon are particularly impressed, and Kabukimono preens under their attention.
“Cut that out, idiot,” Scaramouche smacks the back of Kabukimono’s head, successfully cutting off the noise. “You’re just going to overheat, and then we’ll be stuck carrying around your powered-down body until you start up again.”
“You know how he does that? Does that mean you can do it too?” Paimon asks, her face scrunched up at the idea of the Balladeer doing anything that could be seen as endearing. 
“Absolutely not.”
“We can all do that,” Wanderer says at the same time, earning a betrayed look from Scaramouche. “It’s not purring though. You all remember that we’re puppets, right?”
“Yeah….?” The Traveler nods along with Paimon.
“Well, the prototype machinery inside us is what makes that noise.” Wanderer explains. “We can control the speed and make it as slow or as fast as we want, so making it run extra fast makes it louder. However, it also makes the machinery heat up, and if it gets too hot then the failsafe kicks in and shuts off the entire system.”
“Does that mean the Raiden Shogun can purr, too?” The Traveler wonders out loud, successfully distracting Paimon with the absurdity of that mental image.
“What happens to you if it overheats?” You ask, wondering if you should feel bad for enjoying it when Kabukimono purred.
“It’s like fainting for humans,” Scaramouche adds. “Which is why we don’t do that. Nobody likes having to carry around a useless burden.”
“But it’s not dangerous, is it?”
“No, it’s just a lot of trouble. Same as for humans, but no. No lasting damage.” Wanderer then sighs and makes a face even as he pulls you into a semblance of a hug. “Here, I’ll allow it this time, because it’s you...”
Your eyes widen as Wanderer begins to purr as well, audible even over the sound of his anemo power. With a delighted gasp, you throw your arms around him and listen happily, unaware of the glares Wanderer is receiving from below. The Traveler rolls their eyes when Wanderer points at your back and mouths ‘favourite’ at Scaramouche.
“Wanderer, if you’re done being jealous could you please bring the Creator back down?” Nahida calls, and you peek down to see that she and Lord Rukkhadevata have finished their discussion. They wait below, where Scaramouche and Kabukimono were earlier. The two puppets are now a little bit further away, bickering while the Traveler supervises them.
“I’m jealous?” Wanderer scoffs, hoisting you up so you can rest on his hip as he holds you with one hand, the other used to gesture down at Nahida rudely. “You even dare to imply-”
“Please bring the Creator down.” Rukkhadevata repeats, hands on her hips. “Don’t make me come up there and get you.”
You have to stifle a laugh as Wanderer slowly brings the two of you back down, making sure your feet are firmly on the ground before letting you go. You don’t bother to mention how you notice that Wanderer’s body actually is noticeably warmer after purring. You smooth the wrinkles of your clothes and turn to the two Dendro Archons with a smile.
“You guys give off such mom energy,” you tell them. “So, what��s up? Did you figure out anything else?” 
“You forget that I was a queen before I was a god,” Rukkhadevata points out. “I know what it’s like to stymie conflict before it becomes a problem. Diplomatically, of course.”
Nahida nods in agreement. “Of course. And yes, Your Grace, we did come to some conclusions! Though, not all of them are final, mostly regarding Wanderer and his counterparts. There are some hypotheses we will need to investigate before we can say for sure…”
“Still kinda wish you wouldn’t call me that,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck. The lofty title is uncomfortable to hear, when you still feel like any ordinary person. “But let’s hear it then. What did you guys come up with?”
“For the most part, exactly the same conclusion that we came to earlier.” Nahida says, drawing in the air with glowing green lines. She draws a tree, and then draws some branches in a different shade. “Your arrival in Teyvat brought a ‘backup’ of knowledge which, when reintroduced to the Leylines, conflicted with the current state of things and instead created additional information that now exists at the same time as the current timeline.”
“That being said,” Rukkhadevata adds her own glowing lines to Nahida’s drawing, in a deeper and more intense green. She circles one branch, and says: “I believe that this timeline’s Dendro Archon remains Lesser Lord Kusanali. Irminsul seems to have resolved this conflict by making it so that my sacrifice to eradicate Forbidden Knowledge was not my life, but rather my godhood.”
“What does that mean for you?” You ask.
“It means that I am now happily retired!” Rukkhadevata exclaims, smiling brightly. “And from what I’ve seen of the information recorded in Irminsul, I have an old friend in Liyue who also recently finds himself with a wealth of spare time. It’s been a few centuries since I last saw him, perhaps I should pay him a visit.”
“Wow, congratulations! I’m sure Zhongli would be glad for the company.” You hug her excitedly, and she returns the gesture with a bright laugh. 
“Is that the name he’s going by, now? It would certainly help to have a less recognisable name, I suppose…” Rukkhadevata ponders, and you can hear her humming as she thinks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just use my old name. From now on, please call me Aranyani!”
Nahida joins in on your hug, practically bouncing with excitement, and you pick up the tiny god so she can see you both. “I’m so glad for you, Aranyani! I’ve always wanted to meet you,” she exclaims with a shy smile. “I have so many things I want to ask!”
“And you are always free to share in my knowledge, little sapling,” Aranyani coos, patting Nahida’s head affectionately before you all release each other, letting Nahida back down gently.
“So what are we going to do about those two clowns?” Wanderer says and you jump a little in surprise, forgetting he was still there.
You turn to where the rest of the group is. Kabukimono seems to have finally had enough and is tousling on the floor with Scaramouche. The Traveler is attempting to haul the Balladeer away, while Paimon grabs onto the back of Kabukimono’s veil and is yanking him in the other direction. To a very small degree of effectiveness.
“Both of you, please stop!” Nahida rushes forward, and the two puppets spring apart like the other is on fire.
“He started it!” Kabukimono points at Scaramouche accusingly and the Balladeer moves to grab him again, but is easily stopped by the Traveler pulling him back by grabbing his wrists. 
“It doesn’t matter who started it,” you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. You put on a stern face and your best ‘disappointed parent’ voice. “I sort of expected more from you two…”
Kabukimono’s devastated expression is enough for you to drop the pretense. You sigh and open your arms and beckon, and Kabukimono happily throws himself into your hug. 
“Fine, fine!” You grumble, patting the top of Kabukimono’s head. “As long as you guys aren’t, like, maiming or seriously injuring each other, I guess it’s okay.”
“Yay!”
That’s about as far as you get before Nahida takes Kabukimono’s hand and leads him away, and begins informing him of the history of the world and catching him up to speed on the current timeline. Wanderer and the Traveler chime in every so often, adding in some details that the archon might have missed. Aranyani seems to have already taken her leave, leaving only you and Scaramouche behind.
You pretend not to notice as the disgruntled ex-Harbinger shuffles closer to you, until he bumps his shoulder against yours. 
“Hey,” he begins, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but all these annoying idiots kept interrupting me…”
You wait for a minute, until it’s clear he isn’t going to continue until you say something. “Yes? What’s the matter?”
He exhales through his nose and refuses to make eye contact with you. At the edges of your vision, you can see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” he finally spits out. “I mean, clearly I don’t quite fit in with the rest of these happy-go-lucky morons. I can’t imagine you intended for someone like me to show up.”
“Why not?” You blurt out, more out of surprise than anything else. “I like having you here.” It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, as Scaramouche begins to close off again.
“Don't bother lying to me,” he snaps, facing you with the full brunt of his annoyance. He crosses his arms and sneers at you, looking at you down the bridge of his nose. “I’m not some sad, weak little puppet who needs to be coddled by the likes of you. So save your meaningless placations for someone who would actually feel better after hearing them. You’re only wasting your time, and mine.”
“Okay, no lies then,” you nod, and watch as he braces himself for whatever you’ll say next. “I’m glad you’re here, in a world where every part of you can exist at the same time. And I’m glad I can be here with you to remind you that you’re the sum of all your parts, good and bad, and that I do want you to be here, in all your entirety.”
Scaramouche’s face is carefully blank, and you wonder for a second if he somehow shut down without you noticing. You wave a hand in front of his face, watching as his eyes track your palm. You’re about to say something else when you feel a hand come down on your shoulder heavily.
“Simp.” Wanderer states, patting you with a teasing look on his face.
“What?!” You jump away from him with an indignant squawk. “I am not-”
“Absolutely down bad.” The Traveler adds, and you reach clumsily to slap at the two of them. You miss both by miles.
“I can’t believe I taught you guys words from my world and this is how you repay me!”
“Sorry to interrupt, Your Grace!” Nahida looks properly apologetic at the treatment you’re receiving. “We were just discussing what to do with all of the new people. The Traveler has kindly offered to introduce you to their friendly teapot adeptus in order to have a realm created for you, and Wanderer’s incarnations can stay with you in the new realm!”
“That’s perfect!” you say quickly, eager to escape any more teasing from your team. You avoid Scaramouche’s probing gaze and turn your heated face away from him to look at Nahida and the Traveler. “When can we go? Can we go right now?”
The Traveler nods and holds out a thin tab of wood that you recognize as their realm dispatch. It’s strange to see it in person, for some reason you expected it to be bigger than it actually is. The entire thing can fit in the palm of one hand, like a credit card. “We can go as soon as you’re authorized, Your Grace!”
You’re giddy as you take the dispatch into your hands, rubbing the engraved surface with reverence. You feel a strange sensation, like pins and needles, as the magic in the dispatch settles over you. “This is so cool, you guys. I can’t wait to meet Tubby! Do you think she’ll make me a teapot, too, or something else?”
In your excitement you grab onto both the Traveler and Wanderer, silently begging them to come with you. Just as the three of you touch the surface of the teapot, Wanderer turns to Scaramouche with a pointed look and grins. 
“Favourite.” He says smugly as he vanishes.
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lilac--sugar · 1 year
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But then... whatever in the world could you be?
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Summary: Astarion wakes from a nightmare with something he can only explain as hunger. He thinks he knows what he needs and goes to the one person that can give him just that. (Late act 2 I'd say) Pairing: Astarion/Tav!Reader (gn!Tav) Though, I did write it with my Tav, Kieran, in mind (pictured above). If there are any mentions that contradict this please point it out and I will gladly adjust it! 💜 Rating: M (Mostly because my blog is rated M and I'm not ok with minors interacting with it. But this is a fluff piece really.) Content Warnings: Mentions of Cazador. Astarion curses once. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: Not betaed. I did my best to comb it over. If you see any mistakes please feel free to point it out! 💜 I really wanted to write this, though. I really wanted at least one scene for Astarion that showed him getting more comfortable/familiar with intimacy that wasn't sexual while also opening up a little more. So, I wrote this to satisfy that need for myself.
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Darkness grasps at his mind. Ice cold claws digging in at the nape of his neck, piercing the warm numbness of his meditative sleep. He gasps, suddenly plunged into a state of paralysis.
The claws pull his head back, make him look up into a face he’d rather not see.
“You think you can escape me?” There’s a flame spitting anger through the words. Eyes like red embers flicker, bear down into his own. He trembles in the grasp.
“Just you wait, boy,” claws dig deeper, pain intensifying as it spreads down his neck and through his whole body. He’s powerless. He tries not to weep, can’t do it for his pride, “I’ll show you pain like you’ve never known.”
His eyes widen as Cazador grins, delight dancing in the embers at Astarion’s fear.
“N-“ his tongue is stuck on the syllable, wants to scream it out, ‘no! I won’t let you! No! You can’t get me here!’
Here? Wait… That’s right. This is just-
He gasps awake, pushing himself up.
“Gods,” he whispers to himself, presses his head into his hands, “it was just a dream,” he takes in a shaky breath, “a nightmare,” he corrects himself.
None the less his body continues to tremble, goose fleshed skin broken out into a cold sweat. The fire kept alive by those on watch does nothing to warm him.
It takes him a moment, a few deep breaths and finally he’s able to pull his hands away from his face. Fear mildly subsides as a new feeling settles in. A strong… craving? It radiates from the pit of his chest. A new kind of hunger he’s not felt before.
Hunger but he can’t even fathom walking away from the safety of camp. The safety of you.
His eyes roam the area before landing on your form.
You look so delicate cuddled down into your pile of pillows. An odd request he’d noticed. You weren’t shy of asking for compensation for your help. Gold and a pillow. Every time. A pillow.
A small huff of a laugh escapes his lips.
He’d remembered the bundle on your back. How it dwarfed you as you tried to carry them all during your travels. Astarion refused to help you then only to have Halsin step in like the big knight in shining armor he is. Astarion had gotten annoyed at the time. Blamed it on Halsin having spoiled his fun of watching you struggle. Truth was he felt a pang of something. He couldn’t place it. Just hated how you’d stared at Halsin all bright eyed, smile wide on your face. He wanted that look for himself. He’d felt the sun for the first time in centuries. But he wanted to know what it felt like to be warmed to the bone. Thought he’d find it there in that look.
Of course, he’d caught a glimpse of it. The night he finally admitted his whole scheme. Worried sick he’d messed everything up. Only you flipped it around with a simple embrace. Sun be damned. That was what true warmth felt like. He’d felt guilty for being rewarded with comfort and understanding for deceiving you. Didn’t understand you one bit for it but eternally grateful you had.
He wondered. You had told him earlier in the day he could feed on you. Day after day you offer and night after night he obliges. He’s grateful for your generosity.
It’s almost like clockwork now. How he crawls over to you. Each time he feels himself get more comfortable in the act. He used to hover over you like you were a bomb that’d set off any second. He used to barely touch you. Now he has no issue. He presses a hand to your shoulder, pushes you flat on your back. He watches with amusement as your body almost instinctively bares your neck for him, highlighted by the dancing fire beside you.
He slides a knee between your legs, getting himself as close as he can. He lowers his head down next to your neck, cool lips taking pleasure against warm skin. He breathes in. For a man that so claims to detest flowers he’d never admit it, but he thinks of you as one. His favorite one. A bouquet of wildflowers. Joyous and bright. Unpredictable. He’d come across you when he had nothing in return. An empty field of dirt. One touch from you and now he’s overgrown.
He can’t explain it, why he does what he does next. He doesn’t bite. Instead, he nuzzles into you. Nose pressing under your ear, tickled by the hair there. He takes in another breath that is you. Eases in a bit more, his arms sliding behind your back. If he had any less pride, he might have flung one of your arms over him.
A tremble passes through his body, a small sob catching in his throat.
You stir under him, a groan escaping from your own. He’s quick to pull away, thinks about dashing off. You never need know he was even there.
“Star,” sleep thick your voice comes out as a croak. He freezes, keeps himself hovering over you.
“What?” He blinks back tears. He’s not sure if the word is meant for him. You’d never called him such before.
“You think your parents named you Astarion because your hair is like starlight?” your speech is sleep slurred.
“Wh- I,” a man that has something to say about everything and you’ve rendered him speechless.
You raise a hand, fingertips brushing over his soft delicate curls that frame his face. Moonbeams are caught in his hair, causes it to glow like a gentle halo around him. Your hand drifts down, settles on his cheek. Fingertips brush just under his eye and you know.
You also know that if you point it out or make a big deal he’ll just fuss and huff off. So, you do the one thing you know he’ll accept. You roll yourself over, use all your strength and flip him onto his back over the nest of pillows you’d painstakingly created. Mischief. He has a soft spot for your displays of it.
“What are you-!?” He doesn’t get the words out before you’re flopping over him, mouth pressing to his neck, you playfully bite down.
“Get off me you fowl fiend!” he cries out.
A chorus of ‘shh’ raises up from the party around them.
“Oh, fuck off!” Astarion snaps back.
A small giggle escapes you as you nuzzle yourself down into him. An arm wrapping over his chest, leg curling around one of his. You know if he had truly been upset, he wouldn't have even let you get this far in the first place. Wouldn't have let you push him. Would have chided you and stormed off by now. Instead, you feel him melt into the pillows, arms slowly wrapping around you.
“You really want me off?” you mumble into his neck, needing to check anyway for good measure. He shakes his head.
“No,” He admits, voice a little watery. You go to pull back, worried you were perhaps wrong. Only, he wraps his arms tighter around your form, pulls you back into him.
“I uh,” He lifts a hand, it coming to cup your face, palm to jaw, fingertips over your lips, he settles your head back where it had perfectly fit just a moment ago, “I had a nightmare with Cazador, again,” He says and you nod.
“I won’t let him get you,” you mumble. A ‘tch’ of a laugh escapes him.
“Optimistic,” He chides.
“One of us has to be.”
“Naive.”
“Hopeful,” you correct.
He hums.
“I promise you,” you whisper, kissing over his fingertips.
Cricket song and the pop and fizz of fire fills the space around you. The need for distraction is clear.
A kiss turns to a bite and he pulls his hand away from your face.
“Will you stop that!?” He hisses and you grin.
“Taste of your own medicine.”
“Oh please,” He places his hand over your neck now, “When I bite it’s with a lot more care and finesse! You hardly ever wake up anymore and I’m at your throat every night.”
You grin, lips curling up at the corners and he thinks you look like a cat who’d just caught a mouse. He lifts his head to get a better look at you, can see the glint in your eyes.
“You hardly ever wake up anymore, right?” He asks. In response you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.
“You smell nice,” You mumble.
Exasperated, he drops back onto the plush pillows.
“You do keep changing the subject,” A faux agonized sigh leaves him, he’d never admit this was an all too welcomed distraction, “You are infuriating, you know?”
“What is it?” You ask, ignoring his complaints. You sniff at his neck, the small puffs of air causing his skin to tingle. He closes his eyes and focuses on not laughing.
“Hmm,” Your nose slips behind his ear, nuzzles into the soft curls there, “rosemary,” hesitant, you sniff again and this time you can feel him twinge with a bit of a laugh, “brandy for sure,” You pull back, hand pressed to his chest as you hover over him.
There’s a softness in his eyes, a smile delicately placed across his lips. His hair is glowing again in the moonlight.
“Go on then,” He says, smile turning to a grin, “what else?”
You shake your head, “Can’t pin the last one.”
“Bergamot.”
“Ahh,” You roll your eyes, “Bergamot,” you carry out the first and last syllable of the word, try to flourish it with his accent, “Fancy.”
“You know me, darling,” He raises a hand and presses it to your cheek, “understated with a dash of extravagant and exceptional.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at his words. It startles him and another chorus of ‘shh’ breaks out.
“Sorry!” You whisper-shout. You duck your head into his neck, muffling the giggling as best as you can.
“I hardly think what I said was funny,” he’s trying to sound serious, but you can hear the hint of a pout to his words.
“Star, you’re about as understated as a beacon,” You pull back, a simmer of giggles still gently rolling from your chest, “Wait- Can I call you Star?”
“Uh-“
“It’s just that, your hair really does look like starlight and right now-“ well, right now you think if his body could, he’d be flushed all over, “While, yes, you are gorgeous. Sometimes I feel like when I’m with you, there’s this- light. Something,” The hand on his chest moves over his heart, “In there. It’s warm and beautiful, comforting. Like the north star, it guides me,” You’re talking a million miles a minute. Your sleep addled mind has no filter for your mouth. He stares at you, eyebrows raised, anticipating what you’ll say next even though he never knows and doesn’t know why he bothers to try, “to you.” You swallow hard, realizing you’d probably let yourself go a bit too far. His face hasn’t changed and so you try to dig yourself out, “And well- it is in your name, so-“
“Do shut up,” he says, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s different, chaste. Something new entirely and you kiss back, hoping not to break such a delicate thing.
“That would be fine,” He says as he pulls away, “But all this talking has made me rather tired, my love,” he flops back onto the pillows, “and I’d really rather not make the trek back to my bedroll,” he nestles himself back against your pillows, “Far too much hassle.”
“Right,” You nod, “completely.”
“Just don’t go thinking I’m doing this every night.”
“Mmhmm.”
“And it’s really all your fault since you pinned me here. So, if anyone comments in the morning you should admit as such.”
“Yes, dear,” you settle yourself into him, curling around him. He might sleep as stiff as a plank but you were going to make it work.
When you’ve fallen asleep he realizes he’s- happy. He feels satiated somehow without a drop of your blood. Don’t get him wrong, he’d probably partake in the next few hours. But for now, right now, the pit in his chest felt full.
“Gods, where were you?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your forehead. A sleepy groan leaves you as you stir, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt over his heart.
Perhaps. Perhaps you were there the whole time. The seed of his hopes. Every damned prayer he said to every God. Someone listened, someone took that tiny seed and from it grew you. And here you were, though not to ruin him. No. But to help him.
“Took you long enough,” He mutters, a small laugh escaping him. He takes your hand in his own, lets your warmth sink into his fingers. He couldn’t just yet bring himself to thank whatever God made it possible. He thought maybe one day. Right now he didn’t care much for anything beyond the two of you right here.
For the first time in a long time he dreams of life in the sunlight. You there next to him, as he basks in the warmth of your bright eyes and wide smile.
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My masterlist
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jaimeblancarte · 1 month
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@jaimeblancarte Querétaro, Qro. 2024
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entwinedmoon · 1 month
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This month is the 40th anniversary of John Torrington’s exhumation and autopsy. I’ve been doing real-time daily updates over on this post to show just how long and drawn out the process was. It took over a week, starting from when Beattie arrived on Beechey to when they first started digging to when they finally got the coffin open. Right now, those updates are in a bit of a lull because, after they dug down to the coffin, they had to wait for permits to move onto the next part, so there won’t be another Daily Torrington Dig update until August 17.
While we’re waiting for Beattie to get his permits to crack open a cold one (Torrington’s coffin) with the boys (his scientific research team), you can check out my Torrington blog posts to keep the spirit of the season going. The posts Sacred to the Memory of and A Star Is Born would be especially applicable right now as they explore Torrington’s death, exhumation, autopsy, and the media’s response to the photographs of his well-preserved body.
But there’s something else I wanted to share here, another type of media response that I’ve known about (and had a copy of) for a while. I shared it years ago on Twitter, thinking it would get a laugh there, but that was, er, not the reaction I received, so I’d held off on sharing it anywhere else because I thought most people would find it inappropriate. However, I was reminded recently by a friend (don’t know if they want to be tagged here or not, so I’ll go with not) about the existence of this particular piece, and I realized that this might be something that would be more appreciated here on Tumblr, where we like to photoshop Torrington’s corpse into memes, ship him with the guy he’s buried next to, and want to see what he would think of Takis and flavored vapes.
The article I’m referring to is the story about Torrington that appeared in the Weekly World News.
If you’re not familiar with the Weekly World News, it was a notorious tabloid that made up absurd stories and pretended it was real news. Some news stories were actually true—so it wasn’t completely like today’s The Onion—but there were also plenty of clearly fictional articles, featuring bizarre, often supernatural stories, such as Elvis sightings, a double-decker bus mysteriously found at the South Pole (“scientists” claimed aliens did it), or Bat Boy, a boy who was part bat, part boy.
Torrington’s level of fame within the cultural consciousness of the time meant that he, too, got to experience the tabloid treatment.
(CW: pictures of Torrington’s mummified body beneath the cut)
Published on March 3, 1992, was this front-page story:
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Man buried in 1845 brought back to life!
Sailor’s coffin frozen in arctic ice 147 years!
Hush-hush new drug revives corpse, say doctors!
Yes, according to the Weekly World News, John Torrington was brought back to life in 1992. There’s even a full article all about how it happened.
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MAN FROZEN SINCE 1845 BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE!
Scientists revive seaman trapped in ice 147 years!
Sailor back from the dead still thinks James K. Polk is President of the U.S.!
By Cal Sanders, Special Correspondent
The perfectly preserved corpse of a British sailor who was buried in an icy grave after he died on an Arctic expedition in 1845 has been revived by scientists—147 years later!
And while Petty Officer John Torrington’s health is fragile at best, the team of doctors who illegally plucked him from his grave and brought him back to life say he is aware of his surroundings, walking with help and might very well be able to lead a normal life “if this man has the psychological strength to adapt to the 20th century.”
“It’s hard to believe but this man thinks James K. Polk is President of the United States and insists that horses and sailing ships are the best and fastest ways to travel,” Dr. Hermann Richter said in his report on the experiment that brought Torrington back to life.
“Electric lights literally scare the hell out of him and to be perfectly frank about it, he hasn’t quite decided if he’s dead or alive. About the best we can do at this point is take his recovery one day at a time.
“If Torrington survives we will have produced a living piece of history. If he dies, at least we’ll be able to say that we tried to do something that might ultimately have benefited all mankind.”
The decision to steal Torrington’s corpse from its grave in northern Canada couldn’t have come easy for the Richter team, which issued its report to selected European newspapers “from an undisclosed clinic in Germany.”
For starters, the young man’s grave has stood as an unofficial monument to the courage and determination of 128 adventurers led by British explorer Sir John Franklin—adventurers who gave up their lives to chart the last 300-mile-leg of the treacherous Northwest Passage between 1845 and 1848. Torrington’s body was exhumed once before, in 1983, but it was carefully reburied after scientists took a small tissue sample to determine the cause of death. As it turned out, Torrington died from lead poisoning after eating provisions out of tins that were sealed with the dangerous and often lethal metal. Needless to say, news that Richter and his associates secretly exhumed the body a second time, smuggled it into Germany and succeeded in bringing it back to life have infuriated many experts, some of whom consider the theft of the body criminal. Richter himself insisted that Torrington is in good hands and will be free to go when he is strong enough.
The doctor went on the say that he understands why the experiment might sound extreme to some people but he believes that the revival of Torrington “furthered the best interests of medicine and science.” Richter’s report did not include any of the techniques that were used to revive Torrington but it did mention “an exciting new drug” that might one day make such revivals routine.
Because he died of lead poisoning, it is also believed that Richter and his team somehow cleansed Torrington’s tissue of the deadly metal before bringing him back to life. For the record, Torrington was a man of 20 when he died. Now he looks like a man of 80, photos supplied by Richter show.
“A century and a half of death is enough to age anyone,” said Richter.
There’s a lot to unpack here—the morally dubious German doctor with a mysterious, Frankenstein-esque resurrection method; the burial and exhumation dates both being off by one year for some reason; the short, skinny guy in the obvious bald cap that they thought would pass as Torrington; and so much more. Interestingly, a lot of the article seems to focus more on how scandalous it is that Dr. Richter stole Torrington’s body, as if the writer thought that the revival of a long-dead corpse wasn’t enough of a scoop. Also, I’m not sure if Torrington would even have been aware that Polk was president in 1845—was he the sort of guy who paid attention to international politics? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to think Victoria was still queen?
Many people might be offended by such an article, but the Weekly World News never cared about who they offended. Unsurprisingly, one of those who did take umbrage with the story was Dr. Owen Beattie.
In a short article in the Times-Colonist Metro about a week after the Weekly World News story ran, we got to hear Owen Beattie’s reaction.
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HEE-(T)HAW . . . It was standard checkout rag fare. “Man Buried in 1845 brought back to life” shouted a recent front page of Weekly World News. “Hush-Hush New Drug Revives Corpse,” it continued.
These startling revelations bore some significance for both the wax museum’s Ken Lane and University of Alberta anthropologist Owen Beattie. The man purportedly thawed like last night’s dinner was John Torrington, one of three sailors from the Franklin expedition buried on Beechy [sic] Island. The Franklin expedition—and John Torrington—feature large in the wax museum’s arresting Frozen in Time expedition. Torrington’s body was exhumed from its Arctic grave in ’84 by Dr. Beattie, who determined death was from lead poisoning.
Neither Ken nor the anthropologist felt their respective professional worlds crumbled with the News article. (It ran with a photo of an emaciated looking chap being assisted by doctors and reports that Torrington is terrified of electric lights, still believes Polk is the U.S. president, and horses are the only way to go.) Ken shrugged it off with a what-can-you-expect-from-a-checkout-rag laugh. The anthropologist wasn’t quite so forgiving.
He refused to comment on it at all, insisting that his research speaks for itself. Apparently John Torrington was quite dead when he was exhumed and equally so when buried after the autopsy. But then that’s not the sort of stuff that sells check-out rags.
While it’s perfectly understandable that Beattie would not appreciate something like the Weekly World News’ fake story, what I find most interesting about this snippet is that there was a wax museum with a Franklin Expedition exhibit that included Torrington??? Does that mean there was a Torrington wax figure???? Where is it now????? Can I buy it?????????
These very important questions aside, it’s fascinating to see that Torrington was well known enough to make it into a “checkout rag.” Maybe it’s not the legacy he would have wanted, but at least it’s worth a good laugh.
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crosby-interesting · 3 months
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i love ur blog so much. u allow truth. sadly it seems these days on gossip blogs u aren’t allowed to reveal facts, decipher lies, or knock down the white picket fence of perfection without being accused of being misogynistic. Since when did women holding other women accountable become misogynistic? Since when did exposing male cheaters who have sex with random women from restaurants, hotels, & clubs while they have pregnant girlfriends, wives, children, & dog moms waiting at home become misogynistic? Since when did exposing escorts & prostitution services that essentially promote human trafficking become misogynistic? As a feminist i believe the word “misogynistic” is sadly being diluted & loosing value, bc people carelessly throw it around to defend against any negative accusations surrounding women who’re linked to players they admire. I like this player so u aren’t allowed to call out him or his woman’s bullshit & if u do then ur misogynistic. U discuss Auston Mathews having TWO former prostitute girlfriends & CURRENT ex prostitute gf Megan Turner? ur misogynistic. U discuss Adam larsson cheating with girls the past THREE years on Vera soderberg while he’s away traveling for games? ur misogynistic. U discuss Lauren Kyle ignoring video evidence of Connor Mcdavid cheating with a college girl & accepting the public humiliation of the the scandal just accepting an “Im sorry” engagement a year later? ur misogynistic. U discuss Nico Hischier & Timo Meier hiring a spain prostitute to spend 3 days with them on a yacht LAST WEEK & following her on IG while she has pictures for the prices of lap dance, private dance, & “extra services” on her IG highlights? ur misogynistic. U discuss Elias Pettersson prostitute call girl -girlfriend Katelyn Byrd exposed on surveillance video kissing & being fondled by married musician Alex Pall, then his wife crying on IG stories after exposing the affair while Katelyn is getting her paparazzi pics with Alex outside of Nobu a week after the scandal? ur misogynistic. U discuss Katelyns other scandal of the ex sugar daddy FIANCÉ who publicly accused her of secretly taking large sums of money out of his accounts after he had already bought her FAMILY a house & discovered she was cheating on him with a younger man? ur misogynistic. U discuss Kasperi Kapanen intentionally make Dubai prostitute Matleena Laakso his girlfriend, so he can finally cheat with peace & understanding? ur misogynistic. U discuss Penny Liarakos cheating on William Nylander at the start of their ex relationship & running secret puck bunny tumblrs with her best friend & currently leaving Willy weird comments using fake accounts on IG? ur misogynistic. U discuss Mathew Tkachuk being given an ultimatum and forced by Papa Kieth to prospose to the blonde( who he unfortunately is just not that into) on the back of a fishing boat in an old t shirt & swim shorts while she’s wearing a white bridal shower dress bc she was actually involved in Papa Kieths plan, & Papa set up the whole proposal himself at 9am on a random Thursday because Papa was tired of Matt cheating with the mixed girls & latinas from the Miami bars? ur misogynistic. U discus Kathy Leutner working for a man who provided prostitution services & has victims accusing him of trying to recruit them into prostitution? ur misogynistic. U discuss Sidney Crosby's public humiliation ritual fcked up relationship? ur misogynistic.- Let’s be honest girls, none of those discussions are misogynistic no matter how much the truth hurts, as much as you want to deny it pls stop mislabeling facts as misogyny.If u can’t face the truth ur lucky enough to have the option of logging out & going back to living ur delusions of grandeur & perfection. Holding women accountable for their actions or lack there of is not misogynistic & calling out their male partners deceptions is definitely not misogynistic . I will be gathering any info of the NHL prostitution /cheating circus & sending it in. im tired of the bullshit.
-🇲🇽
This all sounds like a blessing! Thank you!
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kuroppiii · 2 months
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   women love me, fish fear me ᵕ̈         timeskip!boyfie!nishinoya yū         x gn reader ˎˊ˗
⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : traveling the world    ⋮⋮  with noya can be a handful at ⋮⋮  times ...
📋 content      ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮      ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛      ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱       ♡ # ~950 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•
💬 kuroppiii ─ “ i actually loved writing this so much ?? not me making myself giggle and kick my feet around … this one is so silly , chattt i hope you like it toooo ”
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"YŪ, DO NOT TOUCH ME WITH THAT!"
your boyfriend was currently holding a big-ass king crab in his hands as the fishing boat rocked under your feet.
your travels have brought the two of you to the waters right off the shores of british columbia, canada. this isn't the first time nishinoya had convinced you to fish for your own dinner at the destination you found yourselves in. what better way to immerse yourself in the culture than eating only the best of what's in season for the region?
however, this is the first time that this little tradition has brought you face-to-face with a sea creature with arms about the same-length arms as yours.
"hurry up then, babe! take a picture so i can send it to the guys back home!" nishinoya only giggles as if he's not holding an absolute beast of a crustacean, “this is going to taste amazing tonight, i can’t wait. maybe we should grill it—wait does our airbnb even have a grill?…”
in the most loving way possible, you think to yourself how you could not possibly give a fuck about trying to remember if the airbnb had a grill or not right now.
not with that crab—something of magnitude you’ve never seen before in your life—staring you straight in the eye.
you try your best with slightly-trembling hands to fumble with the phone in your grasp, lining up the shot at the same time as squinting to see the screen under the blazing summer sun and its rays.
once you overcome the glare of the shimmering, almost sparkling, waters around you, nishinoya's image becomes clear through your phone screen as you snap a few photos.
his colorful rayband sunglasses are pushing back against the blonde tuft at the front of his hair slightly-damp hair. the mist that floats up from the current splashing against the base of the boat and has you both covered in a thin sheen layer of water—which is doing your boyfriend so many favors because the sun reflects off his tanktop-clad arms as they flex to hold up the king crab in front of him.
probably taking more pictures than necessary (perhaps a bit distracted by how you were ogling the man in front of you), you almost can forget about the fear the crab was instilling in you when you’re interrupted as nishinoya suddenly yells out,
"OW!"
he doubles over, still holding the crab but now trying to hold it as far away from his as possible, and winces in pain.
"OH MY GOD, BABE ARE YOU OK?" you ask him in a panic. your first reflex is to rush to his side to make sure everything’s okay—but again, there’s a huge fucking crab in your way.
flustered about this fact, you start to turn to get the boat captain for assistance. but then suddenly nishinoya starts to laugh.
“sorry baby, i was just playin’,” nishinoya admits through the gasps of air from his laughing fit, “i’m fine!”
you can even hear the captain laugh along with nishinoya’s little prank as he steers the boat a short ways behind you and nishinoya.
if the sun beating down on you wasn’t enough, you feel your face get even warmer and you can practically see yourself blushing as red as the crab your boyfriend just faked pinched him.
you wanted to be frustrated at him for joking around about something that could be very real and very dangerous.
but when you looked at nishinoya—quite literally glowing under the summer sun and with a smile that was wide and almost brighter in your eyes than that very same sun—you couldn’t bring yourself to be actually upset at him for very long.
“don’t scare me like that!” you still lightly scold him but feel his contagious laughter creep onto your face in the form of a reluctant smile on your lips. you try to playfully nudge at the side of his head for emphasis, but only your fingertips manage to graze his sea-salty hair as you try not to touch the giant crab by attempting to reach as far above it and its claws as you can.
but that night in your airbnb, a small log cabin that overlooked the shoreline where you were on that crabbing boat just hours before, you and nishinoya did manage to find a grill.
and your boyfriend wound up being right—the crab did taste really good after he cooked it for the both of you for dinner.
“told ya it would be worth it, sweetie,” he lovingly bragged.
you roll your eyes as you crack open another one of the crab legs but before you can dig in, nishinoya leans over the candlelit table where you two share your meal on the airbnb’s back porch.
the two of you kiss, and you can taste the garlic butter that's been accompanying your meal on nishinoya’s lips. it leaves you giggling as he pulls back, and it doesn't help that once he’s seated again, you swear you can see love swimming around in his eyes.
you're so in love with this man.
but if you said the best part about getting to travel the world was seeing your boyfriend enjoying the antics you both get into as he pursues this journey that means so much to him, you’d be wrong in his opinion.
in actuality, nishinoya’s favorite part is moments like these. seeing you in front of him, a beautiful sunset of pink, purple, and orange hues swirling to create a backdrop to your happy and serene face… that’s the thing he’d travel to the ends of the earth for, over and over again.
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endthedream · 11 months
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hygge
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pairing: model!niki x photographer!reader
summary: meeting at a time where the both of you need a supportive person the most, a beautiful friendship (or more) rises from similar struggles.
words: 6k
story colour: gray
notes: I know this story is shorter than the other ones but I still feel a bit awkward writing about Niki. I tried my best tho and hope all of you can enjoy this story! <3
masterlist of 'enhypen as jobs'
Hygge
noun
a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).
If there was one word your father would describe you with it would be ‘vivacious’. You have always been full of life, walking around with a smile on your face and appreciating the small, little things in life. He called you a ray of sunshine, touched by the angels, and graced with the gift of never-ending happiness. He said you were his inspiration, his muse, his realization of how magical the world can be, and how there is always good in bad. He said you were everything he ever wished for in life.
He used to tell you stories about his travels around the world, places that he captured with the lens of his camera and people he remembered in his heart. Your father told you everything about the world, the cultures, and the unimaginable love he felt when he visited those places. How inspiration was at every corner, how he could see beauty in the tragedies of the world and how everything he felt changed him. He was just a little boy, when he thought he knew the world he never even saw before, but when he came back, he was a man, full of knowledge and respect.
One place he still carries deeply in his heart is Denmark. Not only because it is a beautiful country, so full of wonders and stories, but also because there was one thing he learned from his visit, one thing he still carries with him. ‘Hygge’ is what it is called. A word he now lives by. A word with a greater meaning that inspired the way he was thinking. Hygge is finding happiness in the little things in life. He was the one that taught you from when you were a child that happiness is made out of those small little moments rather than just grant events, finding magic in the ordinary, commonplace, imperfections. You think that he was the one that turned you into the vivacious person you are today.
Your father stopped traveling the world when he met your mom, but his love and passion for photography stayed. He sent his pictures to every agency, working his way up until this point. Until he started taking pictures of the most famous people in the world. It’s not something that he originally wanted or planned, but it is definitely something he enjoys. Because instead of traveling to meet people around the world, he invites them to his studio and takes photos of them. He has met dozens of people without even having to leave town.
It’s been two weeks since you ‘officially’ started working for your dad. You have been helping him at his studio ever since you can remember, and when he offered you to work for him full-time, you couldn’t say no.
Much like him you love photography, always taking pictures of everything and everyone. It has become your thing, your passion as well. And while working at your dad’s studio isn’t the kind of photography you originally wanted to do, it is a start that will hopefully take you far. Like him, you want to travel the world, appreciate every single country and capture everything you see with the lens of your camara. You want to have a blog where you can post those pictures and write about the experiences you have during your travels. You want to inspire people to follow their dreams, to pick up a camera and express themselves, to find who they really are. You want to be able to close your eyes, take a deep breath and know that the moment you open your eyes again, the view that will wait for you is worth every single dollar on this planet.
“You are daydreaming again.”, you can hear the voice of your father right next to your ear, making you snap out of your thoughts and turn around to him. He is grinning from ear to ear, arms folded.
“Sorry.”, you say, showing him a sheepish smile before looking back into the computer right in front of you, showing a picture of a woman who came in her just two days ago. “I am almost done with editing though. How do you like it?”
Your father leans down, eyes skimming over the picture for a few seconds before looking at you again. “I like how you enhanced the colors of her dress, but I think it’s too dark. We wanted to go with a more tropical, summery vibe and now it looks like fireworks on a stormy night. Brighten the picture and see what you can do to get rid of the white dots in the background.” You never said working for your dad was easy. He is your loving, kind, devoted father, but he is also a businessman. He knows what looks good and what doesn’t and whenever he takes the pictures, he has an exact vision of how it has to turn out.
“Oh, and we also got a last-minute photo shoot for tomorrow. I think this is your chance to show off your photographer skills.” In an instant you spin around in your chair, eyes wide and mouth hung open.
“What? But dad, I’ve never taken professional photos before. What if I mess up the shot and you will get a bad reputation?” Until recently, photography was a hobby to you, just capturing small things you saw while taking walks, taking pictures of your friends and family or sometimes even creating abstract pictures, but never have you ever done it professionally. Not with an expensive camera or twelve lights around you or with a model in front of you. God, especially not with a model that has probably high expectations in you.
“Y/n, sweetheart, this is a good opportunity for you. And I will just be two rooms away, if you struggle or have any questions, you can always get me. But you will never make it if you don’t step over your own boundaries. How will you travel the world and capture everything with a lens, when you can’t do it right now? That’s how you learn it and that’s how you grow within it. Don’t see this as a challenge, see this as an opportunity to come out big into the world of photography.” It’s quiet for a moment, you taking the time to think about your fathers’ words and your father taking the time to study your face. He knows that this is a big step for you, but he needs to push you over your own boundaries and help you over the fear of failing.
“Okay, yeah, okay, you are right, dad. I can do this. Who will I have the photoshoot with?” Placing one hand comfortingly on your shoulder, your dad smiles proudly at you. You love that look on his face, the love and pride radiating from it. It fills you with joy and the determination to always give your best in every situation. It has made you turn into the efficient and hard-working person you are today.
“His name is Niki Nishimura. He is a model from Japan, and I thought that this would be perfect for you since the two of you are the same age. I think that you will be able to hit it off perfectly.” There is something in you that stops for a second. You have heard of Niki before from girls in your class, have seen the covers of magazines he is on and commercials on the tv. He is popular, well, more than that actually. Niki is the face of the most well-known brands, walks on fashion week catwalks and on top of that is known for his sweet and polite personality. He is the whole package, and you are going to meet him tomorrow.
“Are you okay?”, your father asks you after you’ve been silent for a while. “Do you know Mr. Nishimura?”
“Know him?”, you say, voice suddenly rising. “Dad he is so popular. Everyone knows him. How do you expect me to do a photo shooting with him when he has literally been on every single magazine I see? How am I supposed to keep my cool when he walked for fashion week in Paris? Dad, this is a huge responsibility, I can’t do that.”
“No, you cannot change your mind now. Y/n, what happened when you said ‘Yeah, dad, you are right. I can do this. Thank you for giving me this wonderful opportunity. You are the best dad in this whole world, and everyone should be jealous because they don’t have such a kind, loving, fantastic, talented, handsome father like I do.’”, he says, mimicking your voice in a high-pitched tone, and you can’t hide the small grin on your lips.
“First of all, that’s not how I sound. Second, you are so full of yourself.” You dramatically roll your eyes as you let your head fall into your arms. “And third, that was before I knew the photo shoot was going to be with the freaking Niki Nishimura. This changes things, dad, this changes things drastically.”
“Y/n, stop being so hard on yourself. Famous or not, that boy is still a human being. He is the same age as you are, so don’t think of him any differently. This is the first lesson you have to learn in this kind of work. Celebrities are humans too. They are just known by more people, but they go to the toilet like you, and they probably also do dance parties in their room late at night when they think their dads are asleep.” Your cheeks turn red as you hear the last sentence, not having known that your dad actually heard you dancing late at night in your room before. But before you can open your mouth and defend yourself, your dad continues. “They are like you and me, sweetheart. So, don’t worry, okay? If anyone can do this, then you. I believe in you, with all my heart.”
-
Your hands are shaking as you set up the camera. The lights are already on and directed right at the boy in front of you, who is currently watching you with attentive eyes as you fiddle around with the tripod. You were aware that Niki is known for his respectful personality, but when he walked into your dads’ studio, you didn’t expect him to be this… shy. He really seemed like a little boy who lost his parents in a supermarket. Niki was barely able to mumble a quick hello to you and tell you his name.
“Are you ready?”, you ask him, looking up at the boy who quickly- almost as if he was caught doing something wrong- looks down at the ground, nodding his head. “Okay, I’m just going to fix this light, since I think it makes you look to pale, and then we can start.”
Without waiting for an answer, you walk over to the softbox, changing its position a bit.
You are so caught up in your head that you get startled as you hear the boy in front of you start to talk. “Your hands are shaking.” It’s a simple sentence, a simple statement, but it makes you stop in your tracs. You look up at him yet again, noticing that he has taken off the sunglasses he has to wear for the shoot. There is something in his eyes- softness, you think- that makes you feel comfortable, less nervous.
“Yes.”, you stutter, clearing your throat a few times. “I’m nervous. This is my first time doing a real photo shoot, and I’m… just terrified that I will make a mistake.” Niki just nods at your words, taking a few seconds to look around the room, which gives you time to take in his outfit for this shoot. You haven’t really looked at him closely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in any way.
He wears an all-black outfit, black slacks with a black shirt underneath a black blazer. The red and white collar of his shirt gives the outfit the finishing touch, hinting just a bit of color that is needed to compliment him. He looks amazing, dashing, like he is out of a movie- a James Bond movie probably. And you realize you have never seen a more gorgeous person in your whole entire life.
“I’m sure you will be doing just perfect.”, he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile at a thumbs up. You have to scoff slightly at his try of encouragement, showing him the same tight-lipped smile, before continuing to change the position of the softbox.
Somehow your hands are even more shaky as you stand in front of the camera again, your breaths come in shallow, and your vision become blurry. You have to close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself down, trying to remind yourself that it’s just a photo shoot and that Niki is just a normal boy. But it doesn’t work, your mind is spiraling with all these bad thoughts and can’t stop them from coming over and over again, attacking and breaking you into pieces.
“Hey, are you sure you’re fine? You look like you are about to faint.” You hear Nikis’ voice, but it is somewhere in the distance, you can’t grasp if it is miles away or right beside you. The world starts turning and you really think you might actually lose control over your whole body.
“Yeah.”, you can hear your own voice, but you can’t feel your lips moving. “Just… just give me a second.” You stumble backwards, eyes still closed and somehow you land right on your behind. You don’t open your eyes, still too afraid of how your surroundings look. You don’t even flinch when you feel two hands taking yours.
“Listen to me, okay? Just follow what I am saying.” There it is again, Nikis voice. There is a mix of concern and determination in it, but you don’t have time to think about that any longer. “Breath in, and out. Again. In and out.” You continue this pattern for a few minutes. Niki guiding your breaths and you following his orders. And you can slowly start feeling yourself calm down.
When you open your eyes again, the world has stopped spinning, your heart beats at a normal speed again and your hands stopped shaking. Niki is sitting beside you, watching you carefully. “Thanks.”, you just mumble, letting out a long and deep sigh.
“No need to thank me.”
There is a comfortable silence surrounding the two of you, and for a moment you forget that there is someone sitting right beside you, until Niki speaks up again. “Did that happen to you before?”
You shake your head, letting a hand glide through your hair. “No, never. I think I was just worrying too much about everything that my body just couldn’t handle it anymore.”
Niki nods slightly, eyes fixated at a point in front of him. “I used to have panic attacks all the time. Before photo shootings, before catwalks, before pretty much anything.” You look at him as he speaks, seeing the pain on his face as he remembers past moments. “I was nervous, terrified of messing up, of not being good enough, of failing every single person in my life. Those thoughts never left my mind, and I did not know how to stop them. I felt helpless, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, afraid they might laugh at me or think I am a pathetic little boy.”
“What did you do to change that?”, you ask him, attentively listening to him and hanging onto every word that was coming out of his mouth.
“Well, I started believing in myself more. Because why would people book me for modeling, if they didn’t think I was good at it? I started telling myself that I am good enough, that I made it this far, because I am good at what I am doing. Believing in yourself is always the first step to a healthier mindset.” You watch as he nervously picks at the skin on his fingers, before continuing. “And then I started telling myself that we are all just tiny little humans on a tiny little planet in this big universe. Why would I waste my time caring about my looks, or the way I walk and talk, when nothing of that is important? I mean, it is important, but you know what I mean. It seems like nothing compared to the universe. Why should I care about the opinions of others, when I will probably never see them again in my life? Why would I give my precious time to people who will just waste it, if I can surround myself with nothing but happiness? After all, we are all just little humans having dreams and hopes, having a life of our own and chasing one thing. Happiness.”
There is a silent tear rolling down your cheeks as you hear his words, but you quickly wipe it away before he can notice it.
“And then I started to talk to people about my thoughts, and it helped so much. Other models told me about their worries, about their problems. And suddenly, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I felt understood, like someone tuck me into bed with a warm blanket and kissed my forehead.” There is a short moment where you both smile into the distance, caught in your own heads, before Niki directs his gaze back at you. “I’ve seen your dads’ work, that’s why I wanted to come here and get my pictures taken by him. And when he told my agency about you, his prodigy daughter, I knew that if a person as talented as him recommends you do the photo shoot with me, then you must be just as talented as he is. When I saw you today, saw the way you took so much care of the equipment and about every single person on this set, I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone else to take photos of me. You just have to believe in yourself more, trust yourself and your abilities and stop the spiral in your head. Stop thinking and just do what you love to do.”
-
“So, I went up to him and told him to get lost. I mean he is famous, yes, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat other people like that. Especially since my dad was having a photo shoot with him. Like be grateful that at least someone is taking pictures of you.” Niki laughs at your story, long having forgotten the hot chocolate in front of him. After your panic attack, Niki proposed a little break, so you took him to one of the best cafés in town.
“It’s so good that you gave him a piece of your mind. Sometimes fame really gets into peoples’ brains and they start thinking they are above anyone.” You nod your head, smiling at him widely and taking a bit of the cake you ordered. You close your eyes, enjoying the different flavors melting on your tongue. And when you open your eyes again, you find Niki staring at you, a fascinated look on his face. You show him a questioning look, swallowing another bite of your cake.
“I find it fascinating.”, he says, fork poking his own cake. “The way you seem to soak up every single small thing in life. Just a second ago, you looked like you were soaking up the flavor of this cake with your whole body. On the walk here, you stopped walking just to watch a bee on the flowers of the flower shop we passed by, and your eyes were actually sparkling. And it’s the way you talk about things, especially your dad. You have this way of making me feel like I was actually there with you throughout all your little stories. It’s just fascinating how much someone can enjoy life and all its little wonders.”
There is a faint tint of blush slowly creeping up your cheeks and you quickly try to hide it by covering your face with your hair. “Do you know the word hygge?” Niki shakes his head at your question, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a word from Denmark and it basically has the meaning of enjoying the small things in life and finding happiness in them. I learned it from my father and been living by it all my life.”
“That is so beautiful.” You can feel the air shift. Niki lowers his head, fork dropping beside his cake. “Sometimes I feel like my life is moving so far. I have to be somewhere new every single day. I rush from one place to another without having time to appreciate the stuff I get to see and do every single day. Everything moves so quickly, and I feel like I can’t just be a simple kid, living a simple life. I have to be a mature role model who knows everything and behaves perfectly at all times. I had to do that since I was fifteen. And it’s just… exhausting. Sometimes I just want to stop time and be… me. I want to appreciate things, stuff myself full of food until I’m nauseous, play pranks on my friends without being titled as mean. I want to act goofy without being called childish, even though I am still seventeen.”
Sniffling down your tears, you reach over to grab Nikis’ hand. “Listen to me, Niki. You are the bravest, most talented, kind-hearted person ever. Life isn’t treating anyone fairly, but we should not let that decide our whole future. If you really want to enjoy life to its fullest, then do it. Take a break, talk to your management or something like that. If you really want something, you can always get it, if you want deeply want it. People will always have something they won’t like about you, because they are jealous and miserable, but just remember that you don’t know those people and you never will. So, don’t let them decide who you are, and definitely don’t let them have power over who you want to be. Life is too short to waste it, and we won’t stay young forever. It’s important to enjoy every single little thing before it is too late.”
There is a single tear rolling down Nikis’ face, but he catches it with his thumb before it can land on the table. He takes a few breaths, calming himself down, before looking into your eyes again. He shows you a sad smile, the hand that is still holding yours squeezing in an appreciating manner. “Thank you so much for telling me all that. You don’t know how much this means to me, Y/N.”
“Don’t thank me for something like that, Niki. I just said what you needed to hear a long time ago.”  A few seconds of silence fill the air, Niki just looks around, trying not to think too much about your words. He doesn’t want to tear up yet again. “Okay, before any of us will start bawling their eyes out, how about you finish your cake, and I will take you to a cool place?”
-
Nikis’ eyes widen at the scene in front of him. The towns autumn festival is known for being breathtaking, decorations of pumpkins, leaves and mushrooms everywhere, a fairy’s wheel laced with moos and fairy lights, games you can play at every corner and a big campfire where people laugh, talk, sing and grill marshmallows. Niki doesn’t know where to look first, his eyes trying to take in every single little thing at once, before eventually landing on you, again.
“This is, wow, Y/n, this is the coolest thing I have ever seen.” You smile brightly at him before tugging on his sleeve, silently telling him to follow you. You walk up to a stand selling waffles, smiling at the elderly guy.
“Hey, Mr. Kim. Can we have two waffles, and please give them a bit of extra chocolate sauce, my friend here has never tried your waffles before.”
“Y/n, my dear, anything for you.” Niki and you both watch as Mr. Kim prepares the waffles, adding sprinkles on them and even an extra amount of whipped cream. Before you can take out your wallet to pay, Mr. Kim shakes his head violently. “No, it’s on the house. You have never brought a friend here before. Enjoy the waffles, okay?” With red cheeks you nod at the kind man, taking the waffles from him and walking to a free table with Niki.
“So, you never brought a friend here, huh?” You can hear the teasing tone in Nikis’ voice, but you are too ashamed to look at him. It’s not like you never wanted to bring a friend here, but it just never felt right. Friends weren’t really a permanent thing in your life, having had too many bad experiences with them. And whenever you had a friend that you started to trust, you always felt like they would destroy this magical festival for you. But with Niki it was different. You just felt so comfortable with Niki, so understood. Niki is different than anyone you have ever met, and after his confession earlier, you just knew that you had to share this with him. You had to share this beautiful place with him.
“I never really had friends. Whenever I did, they only seemed to like me because my dad is somewhat known. They wanted to get some fame as well. So, I just stopped looking for friends. You are the first person I feel like could actually like me for me, you know.”
Niki smiles at you, for the thousands time today, taking a bite out of his waffle. “I already do like you for you, Y/n. And I really appreciate it that I am the first person you bring here. But I just want to say that, wow, these waffles are amazing. I feel like I’ve been kissed by an angel, like I am at the beach hearing the waves softly crash against the sand, like I am floating on a cloud, like I am a changed man.” You laugh at his words, holding your stomach and tipping your head back. Niki watches you, eyes trained on your face, and he realizes how much he loves being the reason for your laughter. “Like I want to marry this waffle, that’s how good it is. And then we have little waffle children running around, spreading sugary joy all over the world. And then me and this waffle will watch those waffle children grow up and have waffle children themselves. We will sit on the porch, in little rocking chairs and watch our waffle grandchildren play in the front yard.” Tears are flooding down your cheeks from laughing at his words. There are people staring at the two of you, but you don’t care, you just live in this moment together.
-
“And that cloud looks like a cat eating ice cream.” The sun is setting painting the sky in different shades of pink and yellow, as you stop at the top of the fairy’s wheel. This is your third time riding the fairy’s wheel, not caring about the amount of money you are spending on it. You subconsciously hug the unicorn plushie Niki has won you earlier- after at least twelve tries- tighter to your chest as you look up at the sky with him.
“Oh, and that cloud looks a big popcorn bucket.” Rolling your eyes at the boy sitting beside you, you can’t help the grin that creeps itself up on your lips.
“You are so bad at this, Niki.” He just chuckles at your comment, eyes focusing on you again. “It’s not a popcorn bucket it is obviously a dragon drinking a cup of Pepsi.”
“Okay, this is the first one that I cannot see, Y/n. How is this a dragon? It is just a big blob, nothing more.” Gasping at his words, you shake your head in disappointment at his lack of creativity.
“How could you say that about Mr. Dragon. Has he done anything to you? No, he hasn’t. He is just enjoying his Pepsi, and you are insulting him like that. I cannot believe you right now.” Niki tips his head back in laughter, wiping at his eyes.
“Thank you.”, he says between laughs, voice raised a few pitches higher than normally.
“For what?”, you ask him.
“For this day, Y/n. This has been the coolest day ever, and all that thanks to you. I never had so much fun, I never laughed so much and so hard. I swear my belly and my jaw hurt from laughing so much.” There is this happiness, this pride, filling your heart as you hear his words. You have never felt this way before, never had someone tell you such sweet words, and thanking you for company. You swallow your tears, blinking a few times up into the sky, before you can face him again.
“You’re welcome, Niki. I hope that you can have many, many more days like this one in the future with a lot of people all over the world. Because that is what you deserve.”
“Well, I hope I can have many more days like this as well with you, right? After this day we won’t just pretend we never met, we won’t just become strangers, right? This day will lead to an amazing friendship that will last until we are old and gray, right?” You smile at him, scooting over to him and softly taking his hand in yours.
“Of course, Niki. I won’t let you leave. You are stuck with me now.” You grin brightly at him, squeezing his hand appreciatively.
“Oh, no. I take back what I said. You scare me.”
“Nope.”, you say. “No take backs, Niki. This is only the beginning.”
“So, if you are that confident in our friendship? Will you do the photo shoot with me now?”
-
“Those photos are amazing, Y/n. God, I am so proud of you. You did everything just as I imagined it to be, even better actually. I knew you could do it.” Your father wraps you into a tight hug, holding you against him and a bright, proud grin on your face. Pride fills your entire body as you hear those words out of your father’s mouth. You have been editing those pictures, making them perfect, for the past few days, night and day, and knowing that it turned out amazing, was worth all the stressful hours.
“Thanks dad, but I don’t want to have all the credit. Without my muse I wouldn’t have been able to pull everything off.”
Your dad breaks the hug, giving you a stern- not serious- look. “Your muse, huh? I heard Niki and you got really cozy at the autumn festival. You can’t fool me; I have eyes and ears everywhere. I tell you, before anything he becomes your boyfriend, I want to formally meet him first. I want to know everything about this boy and then I will decide if he can date my precious daughter.”
“Dad!”, you complain, cheeks redder than the tomatoes your dad is growing in his garden. “It’s not like that. I mean not yet. We are friends, dad.”
“Yeah, but if, sweetheart, if he becomes your boyfriend, I want to meet him first.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s just get out these photos.” With one last smile in your dad’s direction, you walk back to your desk, the pictures of Niki still on your screen. But before you can do anything, your phone ring tone breaks the silence in the room. Smiling as you see Nikis’ contact, you open the text message he sent you, seeing a picture of him at a zoo somewhere in Japanese with the caption ‘Enjoying the little things right now and thinking about you. I’m already counting down the days till we meet again’.
Holding the phone to your chest, you can’t help but grin like a lovesick idiot. Life is great, it’s hard and exhausting sometimes, but it’s great. And you can’t wait to continue enjoying the small little moments it gives you with Niki by your side.
Bonus
“Only three more days.” Nikis’ voice says through the speaker of your phone as you look at the screen of your laptop.
In three days, it will be the fifth time you and Niki will attend the autumn festival in your town. It’s already been five years since you met, five years since you grew up together and five years since you started to enjoy the little things in life together. It still feels surreal to you, having him by your side for such a long time now.
“Three more days till I see you again, Y/n.” The excitement in his voice is evident and it warms your heart, fills it with so much appreciation for the boy on the other side of the planet. Niki is currently in Paris, attending his last fashion week for this year, and you are in Thailand, one of the countries you always wanted to visit. You have taken thousands of pictures, talked to hundreds of people and learned so much about their culture. It has been a dream, these past few weeks, and you wouldn’t trade this experience for anything in this world. But part of you misses your home, misses your dad, and misses Niki. You had one of the greatest times of your life, but you are ready to go home again.
“I can’t wait to see you.”, you say after a while, closing the laptop, grabbing your phone and sitting down outside on your little balcony. “God, I’ve missed you so much, you don’t even know.”
“Aw.”, he coos. “Are you getting emotional my sweet tiny little baby.”
“I take my words back.” You can hear his laughter through the phone, smiling at the familiar noise that became your favorite sound over the years. “But all jokes aside, I really do miss you, Niki.”
“I miss you too.”, he says, sighing softly after his words. “But it’s only three more days, right? We did five months before, so we can easily do three more days.”
“Those three days feel longer than the five months though.” You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, slightly shaking in the cold evening wind. It’s times like this that you long for him the most, that you wish he was by your side. Traveling has shaped you in so many ways, helped you find who you really are and taught you so much about the world, but it also made you realize how much you value having a fixed place to stay, to settle down. It made you realize what you really want.
“What are you thinking about right now?”, Niki asks you, shifting from his position on his hotel bed. You can almost imagine him, messy hair, make up stains still left on his face and his SpongeBob pajamas on.
“You, I’m thinking about you. And us. Our future.”, you answer him honestly, eyes raised up into the deep blue sky.
“This is only the beginning.”, he whispers, voice low and deep with emotions. “This is only the beginning of our forever together, of our hygge together. It’s crazy to think about that sometimes, you know. The fact that we came into each other’s lives at a time where we needed it the most, and the fact that we made it so far. It’s crazy, but so indescribably beautiful. I can’t wait for these three days to pass by Y/n. And I can’t wait for every single day to pass by with you by my side. This is only our beginning, Y/n. And I already know where we can start together.” Niki stops his sentence, taking a small breath, making you anticipate his next words. “In Denmark.”
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