#browsing records and then going to the movies

[backseatloversz]

may need to go to the record store tomorrow. not to purchase anything just for enrichment

[johnbrand]

Screen Froze

Podcasting had become inescapable in recent years. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on...well everything. Politics, world sports, cooking, an obscure movie from 1978 only released in a now-extinct language. If it could be covered, it would be. And one could find this content anywhere across the internet. Youtube, social media, even streaming services promoted their podcasters. Everyone was watching everyone talking. 

Of course, with so many different podcasters flying about, it was difficult to actually spot out talent. And from a sociologically micro perspective, it was even harder for individuals to find podcasters discussing the content they actually wanted to hear about. The more unique the niche, the less people one could happen upon to be talking about it during their recorded stream of consciousness. It was a simple formula, but it forced individuals to browse for hours or even days to find what they were searching for.

Sometimes though, people could not hold such patience. They would not wait for their new hero, a disciple preaching their values and morals to audiences around the globe. They would skip past one livestream discussing the economics of green villages in Switzerland to the next debating the potential existence between a minor character in two separate fandom universes. They could even perhaps land into a podcast like Sean’s.

“Most people just don’t understand the Soviet Union’s impact on architecture,” the measly, pale nerd innocently commented. A little shy in front of the camera, he was only able to relax a bit when discussing his favorite topics. Sean dressed in theme too, wearing a brutalist-like business casual outfit, a trait his small but dedicated fanbase adored.

“There were a lot of architects that really shaped this movement from all around the world,” Sean continued. “But today, we are just going to focus on those from the USSR.”

So what happened when one’s patience dried up? Well, everything was brought to a halt.

DragonHeart49: anyone else’s screen freeze? superduperloverboy: mine too <3bitsandmore: sean, I think ur glitching out

With the screen frozen, our impatient soul could now get to work. If one could not find the podcast they were looking for, then why not just create their own? Obviously, this did not mean constructing a podcast themselves, but rather alter the fabric of reality and completely realign another’s being to their preferred state. That was much easier.

Physical modifications were made first. A much larger body was necessary, something that demanded confidence and respect from others. Juicy pecs, rippling abs, sturdy legs. There was always something unreasonably fun in bloating the podcaster’s feet up a few sizes. An imposing frame to be craved by others, even when hidden underneath clothes, was priority. And speaking of clothes, those were quickly stripped down to less formal articles. Expensive branded tee, athletic shorts so small that boxer-briefs were visible, classic white Nike socks, all of it much more respectable than a button-up and tie.

This was not the impatient soul’s first time altering a podcaster to their liking, nor would it be their last. Physically at least, each of the end products were a little different. All alpha males, but just enough variation to not warrant any unnecessary rumors. This particular podcaster had his pre-American heritage redirected from France to India, the features in the screenshot tanning accordingly as a dark stubble acquainted itself along the sharper jawline. Of course, the bulge was accurately enlarged for geographical standards too.

Mentally however, all the podcasters could be considered copies. They each spoke of the same rhetoric, theories, and ideologies that our impatient soul wanted to hear. No matter how “backwards” or “hateful” their discussions were deemed as, nearly anything could be said by hulking bodies with undeniable charisma.

“These homos have no idea what they’re talking about!” Sanjay raged as the podcast restarted, his deep voice cocky and assertive. "Sure bro, I was just thinkin’ about a girl’s rack I saw earlier today but there's more to a girl than big tits. There's a tight pussy too!”

The chat section lit off with encouragement, their fates too having been altered.

MassiveFART69: you tell them fags bro! LOL XD crassmassschlongnator: we want to BREED THEM TOO!!!! <3TITSGALORE: JUST TALKIN ABOUT IT ALREADY GOT SANJAY GRABBIN HIMSELF AGAIN

Sanjay vacantly looked down, finding himself already subconsciously scratching at the thick bush within his shorts. He let out a hot protein fart followed by a laugh, his scratching slowly extending into groping his fat 8 inch babymaker.

“God, that was WET bros!” Sanjay applauded himself, his free massive hand swallowing the mic. “Anyway, I’ll catch you on the flip side dudes, gotta go hit the gym. Bros for life!”

There was a reason the traditional masculine movement was becoming stronger. Maybe it was because men were slowly aspiring to become the alphas’ equals, or because fags were beginning to submit to their nature. Or possibly, it could have been because each time a screen froze, reality was altered one click closer to traditional, normal masculinity.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[xcherryerim]

Attraction is out of our control

Porn Actor!Billy x Gn!Reader | wc: 3.8k

“I can see by the way that you switch and walk. I can tell by the way that you treat your man, but I could love you, baby, it's a cryin' shame.” — I Just Want To Make Love To You by Foghat

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18

WARMING: Sexual tension | corruption kink | light mentions of religious and social guilt | Voyeurism (Reader sees Billy having sex with someone) | Smoking | Choking | oral sex to reader | penetration | Spanking | reader is supposed to be a bit inexperienced | Reader cheating on their partner | “Sweetheart, honey” are used here. | Porn with plot | Not proofread

Notes: Inspired by the movie X. Added a part of the movie script as well. (also sorry it took so long, i just don’t feel like writing anymore but i still wanted to give you guys this <3) Sorry for any reasons here!

Backstory: You and your partner have spent years working on various short films, with them handling camera work and you focusing on audio production. Recently, however, an enticing offer has come your way, forcing both of you to take on recording an adult film. While filming, a captivating actor has caught your eye, and his presence has stirred up feelings you never knew existed.

As you browse the aisles of the gas station, weighing your options for a snack or drink, your attention is caught by the sight of the jean-jacketed man stealthily slipping an item into his pocket without paying for it. His hand was quick and deft, leaving no trace of his illicit actions for anyone who wasn't observing.

Your heart began to race as he finally looked up, his eerie, honey-like eyes piercing through you. With a devilish smirk, he brought his index finger to his lips, silently demanding you to remain discreet.

Palms began to sweat as you felt the weight of the situation settle upon your shoulders. You quickly darted across the store, making your way over to your partner, who seemed oblivious about the whole thing.

"You didn't tell me we were going to film an actual adult movie," You whispered to your partner, your fingers digging into their arm in panic as you spoke.

They rolled their eyes, exasperation evident on their face. "It's just some quick money, babe. We've got to start somewhere." Their tone held a hint of bitterness and judgment as if they were disappointed in your hesitation.

“Since when are you such a prude?”

"I'm not... it's just weird, that's all. Besides, I don't trust them," you countered, your gaze shifting towards the actors, landing particularly on Billy. There was something about him that rubbed you the wrong way, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that he was up to no good.

Your partner sighed, squeezing your hand reassuringly before attempting to calm your nerves. “We’ll be fine. I’ll take care of filming and you take care of the audio, like always.”

…

The journey to the guest house, rented from an elderly couple who ran a quaint farm, was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Each member of the crew focused intently on the scripts handed to them, trying to memorize their lines and prepare for the scenes ahead.

You couldn't help but notice that Billy's eyes were lingering on you, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that made it difficult to decipher his emotions.

Desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere, you gazed out the window, trying to find solace in the passing scenery. Time seemed to stretch on and on, and all you wanted was for this ordeal to be over.

The idea of being involved in such a forbidden industry weighed heavily on your conscience, and the lingering guilt from your old religious upbringing only compounded the discomfort.

A desperate groan escaped your lips, and then you glanced at the blonde actress in the van, diligently working through her copy of "Farmer's Daughter," the title visible in the small booklet she held.

You let out a small chuckle at the stupid title, and then the van finally came to a halt, signaling your arrival at the old couple's farmhouse. The nerves that had been simmering beneath the surface began to bubble to the top, and your anxiety grew as you and your partner started setting up everything needed for the shoot.

The gravity of what was about to happen pressed down on you like a heavyweight, its immorality and taboo nature overwhelming. You couldn't understand how your partner could be so uncaring about it all, but you knew you had to push forward.

Billy interrupted your sea of thoughts, his voice shaking you from your reverie as he beckoned you with a nod towards his hair. "Hey, can I get some help?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the script in his hand.

Reluctantly, you nodded and reached for the comb, your fingers trembling slightly as you approached him.

As you meticulously styled Billy's hair, you couldn't help but notice the details that made him stand out – his mesmerizing brown eyes, chiseled jawline, toned arms, and the way his jeans marked his thick thighs. It was hard not to admire the raw beauty of his form, even if it was on someone who wasn't your partner.

You tried to remind yourself that it was just an appreciation of human nature, not anything more, but the line between admiration and attraction felt dangerously thin.

While your mind wrestled with these conflicting emotions, Billy continued to peruse his script, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil within you. You wondered what went through his mind during this entire process, whether he felt any guilt or remorse for participating in such a provocative industry.

Billy abruptly rose from his chair, sauntering towards the blonde actress with a cocky manner. In a move that took you by surprise, he slapped her playfully on the ass and then pulled her into a passionate kiss that was both intimate and uncomfortably public. Your stomach dropped as you tried to decipher the meaning behind their gestures, questioning whether they were dating or merely preparing for their scene.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, reaching for the pencil mic with a trembling hand. Its weight seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, a physical manifestation of the emotional disturbance you were experiencing.

Positioning yourself strategically between the camera and the actors, you prepared yourself to capture every moment of the scene.

As your partner began filming, you watched as the flirtatious banter intensified. Torn between your guilt and the undeniable excitement building within you as the actors began to disrobe, revealing their bodies in a slow, seductive dance.

Your gaze lingered on Billy, his toned, lightly sweaty form glistening under the sunlight that filtered through the farmhouse windows. The guilt that had been gnawing at your conscience began to disappear and was now replaced by a strange sense of fascination and anticipation.

Billy's strong, rough hands moved effortlessly over the actress's hips, his kisses tracing a heated path along her body. The possessiveness in his touch was clear, a raw display of desire that was both unexpected and exhilarating.

As he continued to explore her form, you found your focus drawn lower and lower, his face disappearing between her thighs. Witnessing a level of intimacy that was both shocking and intoxicating, you couldn't help but wish you were in her place, experiencing the intensity of those passionate moments firsthand, rather than being a mere observer.

Your lips bit down in a nervous gesture, your skin prickling with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. The realization that you were feeling lustful thoughts toward a stranger weighed heavily on your conscience, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding before you.

There was something undeniably addictive about it, especially as the sunlight casted a golden glow on Billy's toned, veiny arms, highlighting his strength as he held the actress tightly.

As Billy approached his climax, his moans grew louder and more intense, intertwining with the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other. The air was thick with the weight of raw passion, and you couldn't help but blush profusely under the heat of the moment.

Suddenly, you felt your heart drop as you swore you caught a glimpse of Billy stealing a glance in your direction, perhaps sensing your unabashed stare. The thought of being discovered in your lustful desires made your cheeks flush even redder, and you wondered if you had been too obvious in your fascination.

His mouth was slightly opened as he let out incoherent moans, his gaze soft as he looked over at you once again, making it seem like he was giving you an open invitation to be his next plaything.

Forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand, you moved closer to capture the final moments of the scene. Your hands shook as you adjusted the equipment, attempting to steady yourself amidst the lingering discomfort and the pulse of adrenaline that coursed through your veins.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the scene reached its conclusion, and the actors slipped back into character, their faces flushed and breathless.

With trembling hands, you managed to place the microphone securely out of the way before hastily retreating from the room, desperate for a moment of solitude and distance from the scene you had just witnessed.

Your legs carried you across the property until you stumbled upon a serene pond, surrounded by lush grass. Without a second thought, you collapsed onto the soft green carpet, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

You tried to rationalize the events that had just transpired, reminding yourself that it was all fiction, not borne of genuine love or connection. But the image of Billy's strong body moving with such raw intensity haunted your thoughts, his facial expressions, growls, and whimpers made ripples of desire through you despite the immorality of the situation. It was a confusing paradox, your mind oscillating between the thrill of the forbidden and the guilt that followed.

As you sat there, staring at the undulating surface of the water, you couldn't help but wonder about the motivations of those involved in the adult film industry.

Why would someone engage in such acts, knowing the potential consequences and societal stigma? And yet, you couldn't shake the memory of Billy's powerful gestures.

You reluctantly shifted your gaze from the tranquil waters to see Billy approaching you, a pack of cigarettes clutched in his hand. His presence was immediate and commanding, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness at his nearness.

"Oh, you're here," he remarked casually, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he offered you one of the cigarettes. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head and inching further away, seeking some semblance of personal space.

Billy chuckled huskily, his lips curving into a smirk as he lit one of the cigarettes, the smoke weaving through the air like an ethereal veil. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he teased, casting a sidelong glance at your flustered appearance. "You're really are a prude, huh?"

Your cheeks burned in response, but you found the courage to address his lighthearted teasing. "I'm not," you retorted, defending yourself.

"I'm just... confused, that's all. I mean, what about love?"

“What about love?” He asked back. The question hung in the air between you, a poignant reminder of the dichotomy you were struggling to reconcile – the raw passion you had just witnessed mere minutes ago.

His eyes locked onto yours, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily in the breeze as he considered your query.

‘Well, don't you all believe in it?" You asked, finally finding the courage to meet his gaze. Your eyes traced the lines of his body, towering above your own shaky, seated form. The contrast in your demeanors only serves to heighten your discomfort.

Billy's answer was nonchalant, his eyes lingering on your face as he spoke. "Of course, we believe in love," he said, his voice betraying a hint of bemusement.

"But how can you love someone and still be with other people?" You pressed on, your curiosity getting the better of you. The question was tinged with innocence and confusion.

“You think we don't have no morals or somethin', is that it?” Billy retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation at your accusation.

He momentarily removed the cigarette from his lips, allowing the smoke to dissipate between his fingers. His gaze remained fixed on your earnest expression, assessing your intentions.

You stammered in response, unable to find the right words to defend your position. "No, no, I just..." Your voice trailed off, and before you could continue, Billy cut in, his tone softening as he sat down beside you.

"Take it from me, letting outdated traditions control how you live your life will get you nowhere." The change in his demeanor was subtle, but significant, as if he were imparting some wisdom from his own experiences.

"And besides," Billy continued, his voice growing softer still, "it's just sex. You can decide who you want to love, but not who you want to screw. Attraction is out of our control. It ain't healthy keeping those feelings locked away inside."

The logic in his words resonated with you, casting a new light on your internal struggle. As you pondered his words, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for your lingering thoughts.

Despite your best efforts, your gaze drifted back to Billy, and you found yourself once again drawn to the memory of his naked form. The proximity of his body now only exacerbated the situation, and you began to feel a sense of discomfort that was both exhilarating and unsettling.

"So, are you going to keep those feelings locked inside you?"

You let out a startled gasp, feeling caught off guard by the directness of his question. The implications weighed heavily on your conscience, and you struggled to find a response that wouldn't betray your true feelings.

"Come on, saint," Billy said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving your figure. "I've seen the way you've looked at me the whole day."

With a bold gesture, he placed the cigarette between your lips, the warmth of his hand brushing against the rim of your mouth, then, he settled it on your thigh. The weight of his touch sent a shiver down your spine as he drew lazy circles with his thumb.

Was this his way of testing you, or was he simply playing with you? Whatever the reason might be, it was difficult not to give in. His words hung in the air, a challenge to confront your desires and the societal norms that had held sway over your thoughts for so long.

"Well," Billy said, plucking the cigarette from your lips, prompting a brief cough. He then stood up. "If you're up for some fun..."

His eyes flicked towards the nearby van, and without another word, he dangled the keys in front of you. "I'll be in the van, waiting for ya."

His absence left you alone, facing your turmoil. Your thoughts fought with each other, the line between what's appropriate and what you truly want becoming increasingly blurred with every passing moment.

Without hesitation, you found yourself sprinting after him, desperation driving you forward. "Wait, wait!" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet surroundings.

As you caught up to him, you grasped his arm, your words tumbling out in a hurry. "Can we keep this a secret?"

Billy's smirk never faltered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he met your gaze.

"Well, you kept a secret for me earlier, remember?" He countered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. The implication hung between you like a silent dare, his proximity now unavoidable.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours in a searing kiss. It was anything but gentle, a fierce collision of hunger and desire.

His hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer as if to emphasize the intensity of the moment.

You could feel his body vibrate with adrenaline, a testament to the raw emotion that had driven him to act. The tension between you reached a breaking point, and in that moment, it felt as though everything else faded away – the world, your doubts, and your fears – everything but the two of you.

In the aftermath of the kiss, you stood there, breathless. The air around you was electric, charged with the anticipation of what was to come. You knew that you had crossed a line, and there was no going back – the consequences, whatever they might be, would have to wait.

Billy led you to the van, guiding you inside as he pulled away from the farmhouse. The distance was enough to feel removed from reality, a small buffer between the life you knew and the one you were about to explore.

As he maneuvered the vehicle to a stop, he wasted no time in setting the scene, his hand beckoning you to follow him as he settled onto a nearby seat. You found yourself nestled against him, your body laid on top of him.

Billy’s hands wandered, his fingers digging into your hips, urging you to grind against him, your arousal growing in tandem with his. His lips trailed along your jawline, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he whispered his appreciation for your body.

His hand crept under your shirt, cold fingers caressing your skin, his touch feather-light before growing rougher, leaving dark red marks. Billy’s breath came in harsh gasps, his hunger for you growing with each passing moment.

Without a warning, he picked you up with ease, the movement making his jean jacket mark his biceps. He proceeded to position you on the seat, spreading your legs so he could kneel between them. Hands desperately trying to remove your pants, eventually tossing them on the seat where your partner was seated mere hours ago. The guilt settles in your stomach.

How could you do this to them? Why are you listening to strangers' advice in the first place?

This was wrong, but the way he took one of your legs and rested it on his shoulder just to gain better access to you was arousing.

Billy took one last look at you, his pupils dilating at the sight of you above him before leaning in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

His skilled tongue teased the throbbing between your legs, taking his time, flickering, licking, and sucking before diving deeper, tasting you fully.

You gasped as Billy's tongue danced over your most intimate of places, waves of ecstasy surging through your being. Your mind was hazy with lust, and the guilt you'd felt just moments before began to dissipate. This felt right, and you couldn't deny the pleasure that came with it, with Billy.

Your fingers dug into the seat, gripping the fabric tightly as Billy's mouth worked its magic. The combination of pleasure and the knowledge of knowing this was wrong made your heart race, that unfamiliar sensation of forbidden desire taking hold.

You arched your back, your breathing growing more erratic, shaking as you cried out his name.

“Never been giving head like this before, sweetheart?” Billy teased, his voice breathy and deep.

"Never quite like this, no," you panted, holding onto the seat for dear life.

With a satisfied smirk, Billy looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with the same hunger that had fueled his actions. He stood, adjusting himself and unzipping his jeans, freeing his erection, thick and hard.

Your breath hitched as you watched his movements, the sudden urgency clear in his actions. His fingers trailed down your body, his touch firm and demanding as he positioned you for him.

"Ride me," Billy urged, guiding you onto his shaft, his calloused hands spreading your legs precisely to take him.

You clung to Billy, nails digging into his arms as you tried to adjust to his intrusion, your back arching until you melted yourself onto him, feeling him fill you.

“You needed some good dick didn’t you?” He flashed a cocky smirk, letting you get used to his size, before thrusting at a gradual pace.

Every time he filled you up, you felt a hint of uneasiness gnawed at you, but eventually, you settled into it, taking anything he gave you.

Letting out a breathless laugh as your mind became a fog of pleasure you responded, "Seems like it," you admitted, continuing to rock against him.

Billy's smirk grew wider, his rhythm picking up pace, his thrusts now desperate and hungry. The van rocked with the force of each movement, the grunts and moans of pleasure filling the space.

His gradual pace started to build, each thrust a little faster, a little deeper, each one pushing you further into the hazy world of ecstasy he'd drawn you into.

His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment.

You hissed at his hold's impact, and when your eyes met his, you noticed how his eyes lingered on the new marks, a twisted pride and satisfaction apparent in his gaze.

You started to move, your hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm, the sound of your flesh slapping against his filling the confined space. Each impact echoed in the small enclosure, a testament to the intensity of your passion.

Billy's hand left your hip, landing a sharp smack on your ass before he started to spank you, his hand a relentless rhythm, his eyes never leaving the sight of his hand connecting with your skin. The sting only served to fuel your arousal.

"Oh, just look at that. You were just made to take it all," he praised, the possessive tone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but blush at his words, the realization of the control he held over you now sinking in.

The spanking continued, the pain and pleasure mingling until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Billy's gaze seemed to eat you alive, the way he watched you only served to fuel the fire within you.

The frenzied rhythm of his thrusts intensified, the slick sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the air. Your breaths grew more ragged, your hands gripping the seat as you rode him, the pleasure building within you, coiling and twisting, ready to explode.

Billy's hand finally left your ass, replacing it with one that wrapped around your throat. The sudden, firm grip sent a jolt of electricity through your body, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours in a desperate kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of being choked only serving to push you closer to the edge.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, the question was unnecessary, the answer clear in the way you clenched around him, the impending release evident in every quiver of your body.

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely audible, your throat constricted by his firm grip. The sensations overwhelmed you.

His name seemed to spill from your lips in a breathy cry, the release crashing over. After a few minutes, Billy followed suit, his body tensing as he filled you, the hot release dripping over your inner thighs.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Billy released his grip on your throat, his hand falling away as the intensity of the moment faded. You remained atop him, your breathing heavy, the weight of what had just transpired settling between you.

"See, it wasn't so bad," he said with a husky chuckle.

You looked into his eyes, the intensity of the moment still lingering in your head.

"Might have taught you a lesson or two about how attraction works." he continued, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You nodded, your breath still catching in your throat, the reality of what had just happened slowly seeping into your consciousness.

"I guess so," Your hand gently traced a stray strand of hair from his forehead, the simple gesture eliciting a spark in his eyes that had been absent before. At that moment, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, and how his breath went rapid once again.

Maybe this was more than just attraction after all.

As always, Thanks for reading <3

taglist: @freak-accident419 @valreanakuroo @jhutch-bf @cassiecasluciluce @jhutchismyl0verb0y

[lightagainphoenix]

scenes of rory and Jess I wish we’d seen

-rory and jess at concerts

-browsing bookstores

-visiting their fave record store and grabbing stuff for Lane

-having quiet reading time but Jess sneaking glances at Rory

-rory forcing Jess to eat Indian, and trying other cuisines

-watching their fave movies and eating junk food

-hanging out at the bridge

-arguing over book theories

-Jess asking rory to sneak out at night and just walk around town or go to their “spot”

[netherworldpost]

Hey so weird question, but I saw your comments on the isikai comic and I needed to ask–

You have mythology clients? How does that work? What do you do? Most importantly, how can I get into your field as soon as humanly possible?

Mythology is a very deep passion of mine (thanks rick riordan) and I would genuinely adore the chance to work in a field that allowed me to really dig into that world :')

It’s the essence of every movie and/or every person you have ever heard say “I know a guy” (or in my case, “a them”)

I was a graphic designer from The Days When the Web Was Young (in terms of popular usage, not actual existence). The days when everyone was self taught because everything was so goddamn new.

As a person, I gravitated to role play discussions and whatnots. As time went on and people arched up their careers and I… arched up into art and being acutely interested in the nuances of the world, things started weaving together:

You are a writer and you want someone to hand you a folio about what magic potions taste like, you contact me. I say “based on your world building, healing potions taste like THIS and mana potions taste like THAT.”

You have a tabletop rpg with your friends and you want help figuring out why you would own Dragonlance’s Lord Soth’s helmet, I craft backstory options with you and your DM

You have a special interest in mermaids and want to know how they would build homes, so I build a series of thoughts…

…etc.

It’s not the sort of thing you can browse a directory for (or it didn’t used to be, the modern internet and social media has opened options up considerably. To be clear, I think it is a good thing it is more open)

I built up this practice slowly, over many years, largely around a very small group of clients.

The work is specialized (read: expensive) because I typically draw it up so you own it, unless it’s a bespoke fan piece (Soth’s helmet — you own the lore, but not Soth, so if you want to adapt it into something you totally own… let me grab my Make New Invoice pad).

From above, if I say “your world YaddaYadda has YaddaYaddaYadda berries and they make healing potions, they taste like…” you would own that. You can put it in a book or a movie or adapt it or put it on a soda pop can in the real world, whatever you like. Forever.

I am a ghost writer for this world detail so you can focus on the questionably important things like “plot” and “spell check” and “grammar.”

It’s ghost writing and ghost research (sometimes on actual ghosts), structured in a way that you have a private, personal archive to point to as a “historical record” (in quotes because the place, events, and people are strictly fictional).

Now is the part I hope to be helpful

You have two basic options. This is the basic option set of every business doing everything so you are in good company!

You can SPECIALIZE or you can GENERALIZE.

I specialize. I have a small number of clients and the projects take years to flesh out and convolute. I very, very rarely take on new clients — partially because I am at a place in my career I don’t want to, partially because we have to click clock clack together personally (this is an art project that you own and…), partially given the necessity of privacy, I can’t show anyone outside the group, so portfolio building is…

…difficult.

Specializing is great because per-project it pays a lot better, but it’s extremely difficult to get a project. Balancing, if a project isn’t large, I won’t take it.

If you go this approach and someone wants more on a magic berry, you need to make it worth your while.

How is the berry grown?

What does it taste like?

What is the life cycle of the plant that grew it?

What local lore surrounds this plant? What can the berry make?

Who discovered these uses?

A hundred other steps

It’s not “healing potions are cherry flavored and mana potions are blueberry flavored.” It’s a mini (sometimes not mini) textbook on one specific thing. That doesn’t exist!

Or you can GENERALIZE.

This has popped up a lot over the last few years, it’s great and I love it. This is adapting or building new mechanics for existing games. Create lore, artwork, mechanics, whatever you are good at.

Modules!

The downside is it is less profitable per unit — say you make $1-2 per PDF download, so you have to sell a lot of them to make a living.

The benefit is it’s a lot more accessible — it’s easier for someone to say “I shall pay $2 for this PDF” than “i will deal with this questionably unhinged often ranting weirdo and their humorous but sarcastic producer on a monthly basis for 4+ years.”

Generalizing is “healing potion taste like cherry, mana potions taste like blueberry”

Specializing is making actual real world cocktails so you can have a dinner party to LARP one weekend with bottle labels and lore about the berries and the brewer and the field the berries grew in and and and and and

How to get started

Specializing… you basically fall into it, job by job, person by person, you shift and mold and break and build your office brick by brick.

You get good at figuring how to make your money make money because sometimes things are going well and you’re very YAY MONEY

And sometimes you are “…where did the money go…” for a few years at a time. On that note I ramble about money and business on @notfinancialadvice but with a

Hmm

belligerent tone

Because the worlds of finance and my political views do not regularly align and I get

heated in discussions

But it’s important because you need to stretch those advances as efficiently as possible. Or starve to death!

GENERALIZING is simpler. Make stuff, talk about it, offer free samples. Learn business and marketing, keep your finger on the pulse of what marketing means to you and your audience today because it regularly changes.

Note: simpler, not easy, none of this is easy.

You always have the option of saying “oh wow I hate this risk and work, I am going to make SUPER ELABORATE STUFF as an art project.”

I have known a lot of people over the years who started in the realm of Lore Makin’ and said “nope” and became artists. Some as their job, most as their hobby (sometimes very very advanced hobby).

Ultimately…

… the choice is yours on what path you make.

And can make. Based on you, as a person, your goals, your resources, your needs and wants.

I have a former business associate who pulled stakes, went to live in a college town, got a day job in marketing, is raising a family in a very conventional and happy manner. We did a two year study together on old cartoons! Daily discussions of mechanics in the cartoon world! Like, massive drawings and real world physics research! 12-24 hour days!! Now he sells cardboard boxes and has a son and a wife and a yard and it blows my mind. Very happy for him, completely unexpected.

A former business partner cashed in and bought a plot of land in the middle of the desert and tinkers with old cars and plays fetch with his dogs all day.

I am (slowly) crafting a tiny greeting card company :)

The good news is you can do whatever you want, the bad news is the risk vs reward pendulum is massive

The start is making things, stumbling into people who will say “yeah I will buy that”

Stumble into people who like it until you build up the specific to you and what you offer skills to court those people

Repeat until you quit retire or die.

At this point, you share the basic business of business to everything, be it elaborate fantasy wedding experiences or hammers.

The best news is, and I say this a lot, you choose if this is how you make a living (career), thrills (hobby), or experiences (once in a while).

The best thing is to give this your all and love everything about it.

The worse thing is to give it your all and hate it.

I have… gone off script.

I hope this has answered your question and helped you move forward.

[catboyfelixer]

The Shop Down The Street | Bang Chan

Pairing: Chan x GN!Reader Summary: You've walked down this street many times before, but somehow you never noticed this vintage store until you're literally forced to look at it. They've got some really cool clothes, a huge vinyl record collection, and a cute guy working at the counter. But when you stumble upon a section of the store you shouldn't be able to see, you realize that there's more to this world (and to yourself) than you once thought. Genre: Fluff, Humor, Supernatural Notes: i dont have notes but i will say chan looks really cute in that pic

It was a gust of wind that brought you here, but it felt more like a push. A force at your back propels you forward, and you come face to face with a peculiar shop you've never seen before. "Castlebrook Vintage" the sign out front reads, and through the glass you see a wooden interior filled with racks of clothes and lined with old books on the shelves. It's strange, you walk past this area once a week; surely you would've noticed a cute vintage store here, right?

There's something in your chest pulling at you to go inside, and when you open the door, the chimes echo an intimate song that welcomes you in.

As soon as you step in, you feel the change in temperature. The cold wind is replaced a cozy warmth that is accentuated by the warm yellow lights. You are immediately greeted by an array of interesting clothes, all arranged near the entrance. An old rock song you don't recognize is playing on the speakers, and it accompanies you while you look through the vintage jeans at the front. You're alone in the store, save for a boy beside the counter hanging jackets on a rack. He's quietly singing along to the song, until the drums kick in and he starts hitting the rack with coat hangers as if they were drumsticks. He's got a cute face, and unexpectedly large biceps that are very visible under the black band t-shirt he's wearing. He notices you looking in his direction and flashes a smile, and you pretend you weren't just looking at his arms.

"Need help finding anything?"

"Uh, no! Just browsing," you say, and continue rifling through clothes in an attempt to look busy.

"Alright, if you need anything let me know," he says, and the singing continues as he gets back to work.

To save yourself the embarrassment of being caught checking out a cute guy, you walk further in the store. Long tables stand in the middle of the room, stacked with boxes of vinyl records that are neatly sorted by genre and alphabetical order. Maybe one day you'll take the time to comb through the huge variety of music, but the oddities at the back of the store are what draws your interest.

There's a glass cabinet full of interesting old dinnerware, and walls covered in paintings of ships out at sea. Shelves are full of old technology, old boomboxes and record players. You even spot an Atari with a row of games beside it, but the price of it makes you recoil. You turn around to see other things, and are startled by the life size clown mannequin in the corner you somehow missed. Strangely enough, right when you see it, you feel that same pull that drew you to the store. Beside the mannequin, there's an open door. You can see a tiny portion of the room inside, but the many colors peak your interest.

You carefully walk past the clown and peer into the room. On one side, dark wooden shelves are lined with small glass bottles filled with vibrantly colored liquids. On the other, jars of herbs sit beside crystals and other rocks. The table in the middle is crowded with candles, crystal balls and other weird props that look straight out of a Halloween movie. Bookshelves cover the back wall, and you even see cauldrons and brooms in the corner.

This store must have a lot of interesting clientele.

You enter the room to get a better look, and are immediately hit with the worst headache of your life. Every second that passes feels like it gets stronger, until you're on the floor clutching your head.

You vaguely hear someone talking, but the pain is so strong you can't make out what's being said. And then an instant later, the headache is gone.

"Are you ok?"

You look up from the floor, and see the employee from earlier.

"I... I think so?"

He extends his arm towards you, and pulls you up off the ground.

"Sorry about that," he says, "I didn't know you were gonna walk in there. If you said something earlier, I would've turned that off."

Before you can ask what he meant, he steps into the room and gestures for you to come in, which you oblige.

"So, is there anything you need? Potions are here, ingredients are there, tomes are at the back. If there's anything specific you're looking for, I can get it for you."

He looks at you as if you understand what he's talking about at all.

"What is this place?"

This time, he looks at you as if you've just said something ridiculous.

"You know... the witch room. If you can see this room, you must be a witch, right?"

"Riiiiiiight. The witch room. For witches. Ok."

He pauses for a second.

"You're not a witch, are you."

"Wouldn't that be crazy if I was?" You laugh at the thought, but he looks completely serious.

"Then how did you see this room..." he says, more to himself than to you.

"I mean... the door was open."

"You must have some latent magic in you."

"Yeah, ok sure."

"I know it sounds hard to believe," he says, "but it's the reason you felt that migraine when you walked in here. It's a protection spell. Like an anti-robbery alarm but for witches."

"Or I just get migraines sometimes."

"That would be an incredible coincidence," he says. He walks towards the glass bottles on the shelves. "If we're gonna do this, I should probably do it right." He clears his throat before continuing.

"My name is Chan, and we are witches." He grabs a glass bottle in the shape of a raindrop, pops the cork, and takes a sip of the bright blue liquid inside.

Nothing happens.

"Wait for it..." he says, while nothing continues to happen. "Why is this taking so long-" His body starts to glow blue, and he floats a few inches off the ground. He waves his hand above his head to signal no wires holding him up.

Well damn... magic is real. Or you haven't figured out the trick yet, but magic is more fun to believe.

He floats closer to you and holds out the bottle.

"Wanna try?"

"Uh... I probably shouldn't drink random liquids from strangers."

"You know my name, so I can't be a stranger," he says, before returning the bottle to its place on the shelf, "but I get it. You're missing out though!"

"You said we're witches, right? Can I do magic too?"

"Yup. But I'm guessing you never got taught the basics." He thinks for a bit, and walks towards the back. You follow him to the bookshelves, and he searches through 2-inch thick tomes covered in dust. Finally, he pulls out a thin soft-cover book called 'Magicality: Ages 1-4'. It's bright yellow and the cover has two cartoon bears wearing witch hats.

"Every witch grew up on the Magicality books," he says, handing it to you. "These two bears are my Spongebob. They even made some VHS tapes with these guys and I watched those episodes religiously."

You flip through it, and there's plenty of pictures of the bears teaching the (presumed) infant reader how to do simple and safe spells like making glitter appear, interspersed with jokes and coloring pages.

"This is really cute. Thanks, Chan."

"Read through that, maybe do a word search or two, and you'll have the basics down in no time," he says, "and then come back and I'll teach you more." He winks at you and smiles. "Stuff like this."

He reaches for your hand and opens it, palm up. He traces his fingers on your palm in a circle, and specs of golden light follow his fingers. He slowly lifts his hand and red flower petals materialize one by one, blowing away in the light breeze created by the motion of his hand.

The only way you can describe it is beautiful. Any seed of doubt in the back of your mind disappears; this is real, beautiful magic.

Carefully, the movement slows and his hand goes back down to yours, ending the display.

"Aw, don't stop there..." you say, pouting. He laughs softly.

"I could keep going, or you could come back another time and I'll teach you how to do it yourself."

"So you can sell me another book?" you ask, sarcasm in your voice.

"No, I promise it's not to sell you another book," he says, and places a hand on his heart.

This is the second time he's said he wants to see you again.

"I was gonna sell you a crystal or something, though," he adds. You roll your eyes at that.

"What days do you work?" you ask. He taps his chin, thinking a bit before answering.

"Tell you what. Why don't you text me when you've read Magicality, and I'll let you know my next work day." He pulls out his phone, and opens the 'add contact' screen. "Or you can text me if you just feel like talking."

The cute guy you somehow managed to talk to is asking for your number. He's looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, and you don't know if it's magic or anticipation. Finally, you take his phone and add your information.

"So that's your name. I've been trying to figure out how to ask without ruining the flow of the conversation."

"Oh, sorry. I can't believe I forgot to tell you my name."

"It's all good!" he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Before I ring you up for your book, how about I show you one last trick?"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Normal witches are so used to magic that they don't care when something cool happens. But every time I show you something, you have a look of awe on your face. It's really cute."

You hope the blood rushing to your cheeks isn't visible.

"This is my favorite potion. You're gonna be so shocked at what it does."

He walks back to the glass bottles (which you now know are potions) and picks one up shaped like a star. A deep blue liquid swirls around inside as he lifts it.

Once again, he pops off the cork and takes a sip, only this time he recoils at the taste. He looks back and reads the label, and his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit. This was the wrong-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before collapsing to the ground, face down. The bottle doesn't shatter as it crashes to the ground, but the contents of it spill around him.

"Um."

You stand there in shock for a minute. You walk closer to gently kick his lifeless body, and sigh in relief when he snores. He's not dead, just asleep.

"I'm just gonna... go."

You take out your wallet, pull out a ten dollar bill, and place it on his head. Hopefully that covers the book.

Not sure what to do next, you walk out of the witch room and through the store to the entrance. There's no other employees working there, so with Chan dead on the floor—sorry, asleep on the floor—it's probably not a good idea to leave the store unlocked. Unfortunately, you don't have a key, so you just flip over the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED' and head back home.

[supernovafics]

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k words

summary: in which during the summer of ‘84 steve visits family in chicago and meets you at a record store. the two of you immediately have a sort of pull towards one another and decide to start something that’s only meant to be a summer fling. as the end of summer nears, you realize that you may be in way too deep, and you take a step back from it all. however, maybe things can actually work out in the end for you two? or maybe not

warnings: explicit language, implied smut, some fluff, a lot of angst

author’s note: very much inspired by the song “end of beginning” by djo (the entire decide album fully makes me wanna sell my soul lmao) this started out as such a small idea and then somehow expanded to being over 5k words…. hope you enjoy! lol ((already working on a part two so don’t hate me for how this ends :0))

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was pretty obvious that you were avoiding Steve like the plague. Phone calls to your home were left unanswered, messages from him that were relayed to you by your parents were left unresponded to, and when he showed up at your house looking for you, you told your parents to tell him that you weren’t home. 

However, if anyone were to call you out on your current behavior, you would deny it. 

Because technically, everything was completely fine between you and Steve.

There was no defining moment that made you start avoiding him. In fact, the day before you stopped talking to him, the two of you had spent the night watching a movie at the tiny old theater in the next town over. Well, actually, “watching” was an overstatement because you two mainly did other things that did not involve really paying attention to the two-hour movie. 

And although that entire night had been good, great even, you still spent the next three days avoiding Steve. It was an impulsive decision, but it was also one that you knew, or at least felt like, was the right one.  

You were starting to like him too much, and that concerned you because he was leaving Chicago in less than a week to go back to Indiana, which meant that what you and he had going on was going to be over. 

It was a fact that both of you were well aware of and had agreed upon at the start of the summer. 

However, as it got closer to that date, the thought of actually having to let him go and end things felt painful. Therefore, you decided that the “going cold turkey” idea was the best way to protect yourself. And although a part of you missed Steve, you forced yourself not to think about him. 

However, it turned out that not thinking about someone was much easier to do when they weren’t standing right in front of you, which Steve currently was. 

Now that you truly thought about it, you could see that it was only a matter of time before he showed up at your job. The record store was where you met him in the first place, and he practically knew your schedule as if it were his own since he had picked you up at the end of almost all of your shifts for the past month and a half. 

Your mind and heart felt conflicting things at this specific moment. As much as your heart wanted to see him, your mind knew that he was only making things harder. A tearful, heartbreaking goodbye was what you truly wanted to avoid. 

It was then that you wished that the store was much more crowded than it actually was because since there was barely anyone browsing around, it made it easy for Steve to walk up to the front counter, which you stood behind.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and instead of meeting his gaze, you busied yourself with grabbing the Hall and Oates vinyl that someone was going to buy, but ultimately decided not to, and moving to place it back on its rightful shelf. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” You ultimately told him, still evading his eyes and beginning to pick through the shelf even though there wasn’t anything to organize or fix on it. 

“I think there’s a lot to talk about, actually.”

You finally looked at him, and when you saw the look on his face that was a mix of confusion and sadness, for a moment, you finally felt bad for not talking to him and giving him no explanation as to why. 

“I have to do some stocking in the back,” You told Steve, knowing that he would be able to easily read between the lines of what you said. 

He knew exactly what that “code” meant, but with what had happened the last few days he wasn’t sure if he should follow you to the back room. The last time the two of you had been there was a week ago, and in Steve’s mind, things were much clearer then, than what they were like now. 

You placed a bell and sign on the counter that said, “Ring if you need help,” and then began heading to the back. When Steve didn’t start following you, you looked at him. “You coming?”

He gave you a small nod and finally moved, following you the few feet to the room that said Employees Only. He softly shut the door behind you both, and you flicked on the light switch that turned on the one light bulb hanging in the middle of the room that did almost nothing to provide the space with any light. 

Maybe coming back here wasn’t the best idea because being in the place that surprisingly held pretty fond memories of you and Steve made it feel way too easy to fall back into the dynamic you’d become so used to with him. It almost felt like second nature to slot your lips against his in the barely lit room, and you really wished you could allow yourself to do it. 

“Where have you been these past couple of days?” Steve asked, pulling you out of your conflicting thoughts.

A silence lingered for a brief moment as you thought of what to say in response to that. Ultimately, you settled with, “I’ve been… busy.”

“I leave in four days,” He said, reminding you of a fact you truly wanted to forget about. His face softened, and you had to pull your eyes away from his. “Is there any way you can be not busy?”

“The fact that you’re leaving in four days is exactly why I’ve been making myself busy,” You muttered, but Steve heard you clearly. 

A confused look crossed his face.“What do you mean?”

A small sigh fell from your lips, and it was funny because, at that moment, you wanted to tell him nothing but also everything circling your mind. “I– I know what we agreed on at the beginning of the summer, but it’s just… I don’t know. It just feels so hard now? In the beginning, it was so easy, and I honestly liked that we had an “expiration date” set for this, but it all just feels so different now. Because I can feel myself liking you way too much, and I simultaneously love and hate that because you’re the first person I’ve ever truly liked. But you’re leaving, so obviously, I can’t allow myself to like you too much because I would be an idiot if I did, and I would just end up hurting more than I already do right now. And the thought of having to say goodbye to you makes me actually wanna throw up.” 

You knew that you were rambling at that point and that you should stop because what you were saying probably wasn’t making a lot of sense. But Steve had always been insanely easy to talk to, so it was pretty understandable why you were word-vomiting all over him. “So yeah, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you like the plague for the past few days, and I would’ve continued if you hadn't shown up here.”

During the entirety of your ramble, your eyes were looking everywhere except for Steve, and when you finally let your gaze land on him, you noticed a certain look on his face. “Why the hell are you smiling right now?”

Your incredulous tone only somehow made Steve smile wider. “Because for the past three days, I thought you hated me for some reason. But now I know it’s the exact opposite.”

“Honestly, I wish I hated you,” You told him. The statement was mostly a lie. “It would make things so much easier for me.”

“Well, I’m really glad you don’t,” He said softly and moved a bit closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your waist. 

You almost leaned into his touch, as you’d done what felt like a million times before, but you refrained from doing so and instead backed up a bit. “Steve…”

You could feel yourself slowly falling back down that hole of wanting him, and although it was a path that could only lead to heartbreak, your motivation to push him away and never talk to him again was declining. 

Still, you managed to find your voice at that moment. “You should go.”

Steve disregarded your words because he could hear how much you didn’t mean them and instead asked a question of his own. “Am I really the first person you ever really liked?”

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, and you suddenly felt annoyed by all of your previous honesty. But you also wanted to roll your eyes at the question because Steve knew the answer; he knew pretty much everything about you. “You know how I was before we started this.”

For most of your life, you had always been completely content with being alone romantically and having only a handful of friends you loved and would die for. There was never anyone that made you want to step out of the bubble you created for yourself. Somehow Steve was the exception. 

However, the immediate pull you felt toward him wasn’t enough to change you. Instead, it was your best friend Vanessa, who also worked at the record store, that noticed how you were around Steve and gave you the much-needed nudge to actually attempt to pursue something with him. Because just the idea of you having feelings for him had felt utterly foreign to you. 

“You randomly came into the picture and changed everything for me. And I think I’ll probably always be grateful for that,” You said after a brief stretch of silence. “But, I can’t allow myself to see you again after we leave this room. It’s too fucking hard for me.”

In the beginning, you convinced yourself that a situation like this couldn’t lead to heartbreak because of the fact that the ending was set. However, now you thought that maybe that made things worse because everything you felt for Steve was still right there, and it also wasn’t gonna go away any time soon. 

“I don’t wanna end things.” 

“Me neither, but you leave in four—”

“I don’t want this to be over,” He interrupted you. “I want to make it work with us when I go back.” 

You were rendered speechless for a brief moment at his words. Too many things started running through your mind, and although your immediate thought was to let yourself smile at his statement, there was a question that you knew you needed to ask. “What about Nancy?” 

Her name felt foreign on your lips because, for the entire summer, you kept her pushed to the back of your mind. 

Steve told you about her, and the fact that they were on a break for the summer, once you and he grew closer, which was something that happened insanely fast. And that was where the arrangement between you two started. 

Nancy was a big reason why you now saw the “summer fling” you agreed on with Steve as doomed from the start. 

The life Steve was living with you while he was in Chicago for the summer wasn’t his real life. He was always, always going to go back to Indiana and pick things up right where he and his girlfriend had left them off.

That is what you kept telling yourself, and that upsetting thought only aided in your need to avoid him for his last week in Chicago. Maybe that assumption was wrong, though. 

“I’ve barely thought about her the entire summer,” Steve said, and you could hear the honesty dripping from his words. “And when I have, it’s only been about how to end things for good with her because I only want to be with you.” 

His words contradicted everything you convinced yourself of, and you didn’t know how to respond to that. Your mind was running in a million different directions, allowing no coherent sentences to form. The only thing you could say at that moment was, “Oh?”

“Yes, and I know that we’ll be able to make this work,” Steve began explaining, and you forced your mind to shut off for a moment and solely listen to him. “We’ll both be seniors, so our schedules with school won’t be too bad, and we probably won’t have a shit ton of classes. Also, the drive is only three hours, which will be like five for you to do since you’re a bad driver, but that’s still not too crazy. I’ll happily drive up here most weekends. And then there are the holidays too.”

For the first time since the conversation with Steve started, you smiled. Not at the bad driving comment; in fact, you gave him a light shove for saying that. But, it was endearing hearing how certain he was of the fact that the two of you could actually make things work, even though you’d be in two different states.

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh?” You asked, a smile still planted on your face as you shifted closer to him and let your arms circle loosely around his neck. 

His hands found their rightful place on your waist and squeezed lightly. “Yes, and I wanted to say it that night at the movies, but you just wanted to make out with me the entire time, so it was hard to get a serious word out.” 

You could hear the jokiness in his tone, but you still rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up. You were the one that initiated it right when the lights went low, and the previews started.”

“And then you just couldn’t get enough of me, baby,” He said before fully closing the space between you two and slotting his lips against yours. 

You had wanted to laugh at his previous words or give your own sarcastic comment back, but you let all of that melt away, and instead, you simply kissed him back; something that had been done many times in that back room. 

One of Steve’s hands was cupping your cheek while the other slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, and feeling his cool hand against your warm skin sent a slight shiver down your spine. Your hands found a home in his hair, and you loved hearing the low groan erupt from his throat when you gave it a light tug. 

The two of you were so lost in the kiss and making up for the time lost since you hadn’t seen each other in days, that neither of you heard the door open or saw Vanessa open it.  

“Y/N, what do–” The rest of her question stopped short when she saw the two of you. She had known that you had been avoiding Steve for the past few days but refrained from calling you out. However, at that moment, she gave you a look that said, “You better explain everything when we’re alone,” and you gave her a small nod before shutting your eyes in embarrassment. Surprisingly, in the many times you’d brought Steve back there, something like this had never happened before. “Oh, um, sorry to interrupt… this. As you were.”

The door softly clicked shut, and when Steve leaned in to kiss you again, you immediately pulled back, detaching yourself from him and letting your hands fall limp at your sides. Your body was on fire at that moment, but you refrained from doing anything about it.

“Nope. No more of this right now,” You told him. The embarrassment from the situation had yet to wear off and allow you to continue kissing him, even though you had been thoroughly enjoying it. “I’ll see you tonight, though?”

“You’re not gonna start avoiding me again?” Steve asked, and you knew he was mostly kidding, but you could also hear a tad bit of seriousness behind his words, which made sense to you. However, things were completely different now. You actually surprisingly felt hopeful about what was to come instead of dreading the next four days before he left. 

You looked up at him and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Never.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t surprising that you were the first one to wake up. For some reason, your body would never allow you to sleep too far past nine o’clock, no matter what you’d done the night before. 

You carefully detangled yourself from Steve’s warm body, not wanting him to wake up just yet, and headed to your bathroom. Once you finished brushing your teeth and showering, you slipped the grey t-shirt that Steve had shown up in last night back on your body because you loved how it looked and felt on you. 

When you walked back into your room, you mentally saved the image of Steve in your bed. It wasn’t the first time you’d snuck him into your room, but it would be the last for a while. And you were glad that your parents were gone for the weekend at some business conference so that you didn’t even have to sneak him in this last time. 

Steve looked peaceful, and you didn’t want to have to wake him, but it was his last day in Chicago, and you wanted to make every hour count before he left that night. 

You slipped back into the bed and faced him on his side. You ran a hand through his hair and pressed soft kisses on both of his cheeks, his nose, and then his forehead before finally landing on his lips. 

He was surprisingly quick to kiss you back, and you smiled, which allowed Steve to deepen the kiss further before he abruptly pulled back. “Mm, minty.”

“I wish I could say the same for you,” You joked, and he immediately poked your side, which made you laugh. You leaned in to kiss him again to show him that you really didn’t care about his morning breath.

Steve’s hand trailed under your, his, t-shirt and began rubbing your bare side in small circles. You sighed contently into the kiss at the feeling of his warm touch, and you wanted to move even closer to him, but you had to force yourself to pull away before things moved further, as they had last night.

You pushed some of his hair away from his eyes, and then your hand lingered on his cheek. “You leave tonight.”

He gave you a small nod. “Yeah.”

“So, we need to get up now,” You told him. “I have a lot of things I wanna do with you today.”

Steve let out a soft groan before turning his head a bit so that he could kiss the inside of your palm. “Why can’t we just do more of this?”

“Because I want to be disgustingly cheesy and sentimental with you today and just drive around and go to a bunch of the places we’d always go to this summer.”

He smiled at your words. “You’re never cheesy and sentimental.”

“You bring out this cute side of me, Harrington,” You told him and pressed a quick kiss to his nose. “Also, I’m gonna force you to finally try deep dish from my favorite place.” 

“You’re evil,” He said before finally sitting up in the bed. His gaze suddenly shifted away from you and instead focused downward as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “But, um, last night… Last night was good, right?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness. “Yes, very good.”

During that summer, you’d done everything else with him, so last night was kind of the final piece of the puzzle. It was honestly a bit surprising that it'd taken this long. And although you never necessarily cared too much about your virginity and losing it, you were glad that your first time had at least been with someone that you truly cared a lot about, and you knew he felt the same way toward you. 

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” Steve said with a nod as he continued to expertly avoid eye contact with you. “Because I know we’ve done a lot of stuff, but I just wanted to make sure that last night was good and everything, y’know? And that it was great for you and how you wanted it to be for your first time and–”

You stopped his rambling by pressing your lips against his. “I know. Everything was great, don’t stress. And I’d happily do it again with you right now if you weren’t leaving tonight and there wasn’t a bunch of other stuff I wanted to do with you today.”

He smiled at that and muttered out a soft “Okay,” before giving you a kiss on the cheek and getting out of bed to head to your bathroom. 

You slipped on a pair of dark denim jeans and your old pair of black Converses. When Steve exited the bathroom, you silently admired him and the fact that he was only currently in his boxers, and you resisted the urge to go up and wrap your arms around him and kiss him for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. 

“As great as you look in my t-shirt, I need it back,” He told you as he pulled on his jeans. 

You were quick to shake your head. “Nope, it’s mine now. But…” You walked over to your dresser and started rummaging through the second drawer until you found the band tee you were looking for. The shirt was pretty oversized on you, so you knew that it would more than likely fit Steve just fine. “You can borrow this.”

Steve slipped the shirt over his head. “This is also mine now. Although I do feel like a fraud since I’ve never listened to the band before.”

“If anyone asks your favorite song from them, just say, ‘Anything from their first album. I can’t decide which one,’” You said as you moved toward him, now allowing yourself to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Got it,” He nodded and smiled as his arms circled around your waist. 

You pressed your lips against his, giving him a quick peck, before finally forcing the two of you to leave your house. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Although it was one of those days that you knew you’d remember forever, it saddened you how quickly it all flew by. 

From going back to the park where you and Steve played basketball during one of your first few hangouts with each other (and you surprisingly beat him, but you knew that he let you win) to laughing at how much he hated the deep dish pizza you finally convinced him to try. And then next thing you both knew, it was night, and you were sitting in the driveway of the house he and his family had been staying at for the summer. 

A comfortable silence that felt sad, at least on your end, lingered in the car as music softly played, and Steve held your hand in his lap and traced mindless circles on your palm. 

When he looked over at you, he intertwined your hand with his and pulled it up to his lips to kiss it. “Don’t have that look. Remember, this is only the end of the beginning. I know I’m leaving now, but we’ll have so much more time together. Once I’m back in Indiana, we’ll figure out the best time for us to see each other again, okay? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You smiled and laughed at his last statement before leaning over the center console and pressing your lips against his. The position was entirely uncomfortable, but at that moment, you didn’t care.

“I have something for you,” You told him when you pulled away and then reached into the backseat and grabbed the brown paper bag that you had been looking for, which was folded at the top to hide the contents inside. It was upsettingly the only thing in your house that could double as a last minute gift bag. 

Steve eyed the paper bag for a moment before his eyes lifted to yours. “You packed me lunch?”

“Shut up, no,” You said with a small laugh. “Just open it.” 

He unfolded the top of the bag and looked inside. His gaze met yours again for a brief moment before he pulled out the five cassette tapes that were inside the bag. “No, these are all your favorites.”

You could only smile at him. “Yes, I know and I’m not giving them to you, just letting you borrow them for the time being until I see you again. Mainly because you told me you never listened to these albums before, and I have a feeling you’ll like most of them. And when you do listen to them, you’ll think about me, which is a small plus.”

He placed the tapes back in the bag and then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “I’ll always be thinking about you. Also, I now feel like an idiot because I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t care. This was a last minute thing I thought of anyway,” You said with a small shrug. “But, I’m now expecting a really big gift when you come back.” You kissed his lips. “And I’m only slightly kidding.”

He laughed, and you smiled, wishing that you had a camera to take a picture of him and the two of you at that moment. It was that right time when the sun was starting to set and made everything look just perfect. You desperately wanted to have so many more perfect moments like that one with Steve, and the only thing that could curb your sadness at that moment was remembering the fact that, eventually, you would. 

You glanced at the time it said on the dashboard. “You should go before I get sad again, and I want this goodbye to end as happily as it can.”

Steve nodded and then leaned in to slot his lips against yours one more time. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,” You nodded back and watched as he opened the car door, grabbed the paper bag, and stepped out. “Wait.” 

You quickly got out on your side and rushed over to where he was now standing by the shut passenger side door, staring at you curiously. You wrapped your arms around him almost immediately, and Steve didn’t hesitate to hug you back and hold you tight against him. 

No words were said, mainly because no words needed to be said as you simply held each other and let the tender action speak for itself. Your eyes screwed shut, and you forced yourself not to cry because even though it felt like it, you knew that it wasn’t goodbye forever. 

You pushed up on your toes and kissed him for what you knew would be the final time for a while. It was a slow kiss that was long and drawn out, and you would’ve kept it going forever if it wasn’t for you needing to catch your breath after about a minute. 

“Okay, I just needed to do that real quick,” You told him, still pretty breathless.

“I’m really glad you did,” Steve said softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You returned to your car and watched as he gave you a wave and smile and then walked inside the house. You sat idly for a moment, simply looking at the red door he just stepped into and closed behind him, before forcing yourself to drive away. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Hours later, you were sat on the couch in your living room, mindlessly scrolling through television channels, unable to settle on anything, when you heard the phone ring. You almost didn’t answer because you weren’t necessarily in the mood to, but you decided against it when you realized it was probably your parents.  

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Steve said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “We’re stopped at a gas station right now, and I just wanted to hear your voice real quick.”

“That’s very disgustingly cheesy and sentimental of you,” You told him, letting a smile take over your features. 

“You bring out this cute side of me, Y/L/N,” He said, and you laughed a bit. “Okay, I gotta go, my mom’s giving me a look. I’ll call you when I’m home.”

And when the phone rang a few hours later, around two in the morning, you were smiling as you answered it on only the second ring. You talked for over an hour about nothing but also everything, and the only thing that made either of you want to hang up was the fact that you both were insanely tired and could barely keep your eyes open. 

You both said your goodbyes, which lingered longer than expected because neither of you truly wanted to hang up. And finally, things ended with Steve saying, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

That “tomorrow” call never came, and you let a week pass before you allowed yourself to get worried and nervous. It didn’t take long for you to want to start overthinking things, but you tried your hardest to refrain from doing so. However, you failed miserably. 

You called his house on the ninth day, and when the call connected, you immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. However, when a male voice that wasn’t Steve’s, and instead it was his dad’s, said, “Hello?” your immediate relief was wiped away. 

“Hi, is Steve home?” You asked. You were sat cross-legged on your bed and nervously playing with the phone cord. After a week of radio silence, you were essentially questioning everything that you had just felt so certain and sure of. Even though, when it came to Steve, you had almost never been nervous, right then, you truly couldn’t help it. 

“No, he’s out right now,” His dad answered, and you were about to simply say “Thanks” and then hang up, but you could hear the phone being pulled away a bit as if he was talking to someone else but still wanting to keep you on the line. “He’s out with Nancy, right? Was it this? Their third date this week?”

You assumed he was talking to his wife, Steve’s mom, and you couldn’t hear her response to his questions, but you knew it didn’t matter; you had heard everything you needed to, which was actually more than enough. You hung up without saying anything else, mainly because words couldn’t form in your throat right then. 

Although you’d never gotten in a fight with anyone, what you were feeling in that moment felt equivalent to a punch in the gut. You truly wanted to pretend that none of this was happening while simultaneously screaming and crying.

However, you didn’t do any of that because the only thing circling your mind right then was one of Steve’s final words to you. “Remember, this is only the end of the beginning.”

Turned out he was wrong and a liar; more so the second one. It wasn’t the end of the beginning for the two of you. Apparently, it was only just the end. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

(((part two here!)))

[gabessquishytum]

This fin dom AU has me by the throat okay so consider: inexperienced fin dom Hob! Who’s also a masters/phd student just for funsies

Hob is so used to having to pinch pennies to afford tuition and food that he has to keep reminding himself that he has money now. Like yes it’s a given that he makes Dream pay his tuition and housing and bills and food, but it doesn’t occur to him just how much he could ask for (Dream thinks it’s kinda cute)

He doesn’t ask Dream for luxury watches and designer clothes- when Dream takes him shopping it’s to the local department store, but Hob doesn’t confine himself to the sale rack. He buys Hob all the books on his to read list, in hardcover. Goes to the movies on weekends instead of waiting for value night.

Dream of course wants to spoil Hob with fine jewelry and designer clothes and expensive dinners out, but he soon realizes that what makes his dom happiest is getting the things he genuinely wants but previously couldn’t afford, and he’s all about making Hob happy.

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about making ends meet, Hob throws himself into his degree, he even studies abroad- Dream of course comes along and pays for it all, including weekend getaways for the two of them. Dream also may or may not have almost come in his pants when Hob walks across the stage to get his diploma- his money helped put that look of beaming pride in his work and happiness on Hob’s face.

As time goes on Hob does start to get greedier. He works as an adjunct professor for funsies and to keep himself busy, but he starts demanding more of Dream, and Dream loves it. Less material items, more concert tickets, VIP packages to Broadway or west end shows, exotic vacations. And of course there’s sex, lots of sex, lots of fantastic sex

This is actually so cute, you are a genius for making findom so wholesome!!!

It always puts Dream on edge when they go shopping together because he never knows what Hob is going to ask for. And the thing is, Dream has realised that it’s not the expensiveness of the thing that gets him off - it’s how satisfied Hob seems with a purchase. So they go around the mall popping into vinyl stores where Hob gets all his favourite albums to play on the gorgeous record player Dream bought for him. And they go to get new underwear for Hob, and it’s nice and comfortable and really good quality, and Dream is squirming because Hob looks so pleased. And then they hit the stationery store which is maybe Hob’s one little weakness; he loves a good pen, and he really does get use out of them! Dream is so horny watching Hob browse, knowing that his beloved will probably come out with a midrange fountain pen - not the most expensive, but the one that makes him smile the most.

They probably don’t make it out of the parking garage without Dream begging to suck Hob’s cock in the back of the car - and Hob is never going to say no! His sub has been so good and generous, and he let Hob get exactly what he wanted without interfering - a very good boy indeed. Hob loves him so so much <3

[boromirswife]

How I Make Gifs ~ For Anon ❤️

An anon asked me if I would ever consider doing a tutorial for how I make gifs! It's very flattering that you like my gifs enough to want to know exactly how I make them, so here is a little tutorial using my favourite character from my favourite movie ❤️

I might also make a separate tutorial for giffing dark scenes later 😌

Here's a download of my gif in PSD form if you'd like to get a better look at the settings I used.

Programs used: PotPlayer, Photoshop.

First, you need to get your screencaps. I would suggest using a high quality recording of whatever movie/TV show/video you want to make gifs of. My recording of Fellowship is in 1080p, and the quality looks incredible!

I use PotPlayer to get my screencaps. To do this, open the video file in the program and find the moment you want to gif. It's probably best to go back to just before that particular moment, and then press Ctrl + G. This will bring up the consecutive image capturer window. Below are the settings I use to get my screencaps:

Then, press start and wait for your moment to be captured! Once you've got everything you need, press stop and navigate to the folder that you indicated under storage. Here you will find all of your screencaps! You probably ended up with way more than you need (I know I certainly did 😅). Now, delete all of the screencaps that you don't want in your gif.

For the actual gif making, I use a cracked version of Photoshop. I don't exactly remember where I found it unfortunately, but I'm sure that there's people out there who might have some links handy if you look around! Once you've got PS open, navigate to File > Scripts > Load Files Into Stack... and click on it! That will open the Load Layers window.

Now, change Use to Folder. Then, click browse and navigate to the folder that contains your screencaps. Click select folder, and after a few moments of loading your window should look more like this.

Then, press OK, and wait for your layers to load. Depending on how many caps you have, it could take longer. Once it's finished loading, you need to decide on your gif dimensions! For this, I decided on 268px x 225px. Once you've chosen your size, use the crop tool to get your gif to that size. Now, you should have a smaller image, like this:

The next step I do is to use this Photoshop action by @maziekeen. They have a little tutorial on how to use this action there, so I'll just say that once you've loaded it into your program, use part 1 / load into stack. Press the play button, and then the OK button on the two windows that pop up. Now, your gif will be nice and sharpened, and you'll be able to see it move for the first time! Here's what mine currently looks like, without any other edits:

Now, it's time to start on colouring. Every gif (or scene, sometimes you can reuse the same colouring if you're giffing an entire scene) is different, so it will have different needs. However, I tend to always use the same layers in the same order for all of my gifs — it's just the settings that change. I think the colouring of this particular scene is lovely, so I don't want to change it drastically, I just want to enhance it.

First, I create a Curves layer. At this point, I also like to make a group to hold all of my adjustment layers. This makes it easier for you to switch your adjustment layers on and off if you want to compare with the original colouring!

Going back to your curves layer, pick the little white eyedropper tool in the Properties tab. You want to find and click on the whitest area in the gif and make it a bit brighter! I picked the white in one of Boromir's eyes.

This is what my gif looks like now with the Curves layer:

Next, I use Levels. It's a very subtle change, but you can notice a slight darkening of the blacks in the image. Here's my settings for this layer:

And here's the gif with this step applied. Like I said, it's a very subtle change:

Up next is Brightness & Contrast. This layer is just a case of messing around with the settings until it looks right for you. You don't want to make it look too bright or too contrasted, though, because it will make the colouring look weird.

A bit more of a change this time! We're getting there:

Next, I like to do Colour Balance. Sometimes I wait and do the Selective Colour layer first (it'll still be above Colour Balance though), but with this gif, I decided to do it first. I want Boromir in the foreground to contrast more with the watery background, so I upped the Red in the Midtones. I think Midtones is the most important part of Colour Balance, so the Highlights and Shadows are more minor adjustments here.

Here's the gif with the Colour Balance layer!

Now, we have Selective Colour. Like I said before, I sometimes like to do this layer and then go back to the Colour Balance to make minor adjustments. For this gif I mainly focused on slightly reducing the cyan in the reds and yellows to add a little more colour to Boromir's tunic and hair.

I'm a big fan of bright, vibrant gifs, so I like to use the Vibrance layer copiously.

I upped the vibrance to max, but it's left Boromir's face looking a bit too red and his neck is a little pink, so I went back and did some minor adjustments to the Colour Balance and Selective Colour layers to fix that. Then, voila!

Now that we're done with colouring, go back to the beginning of the timeline at the bottom the screen. Then, go back to Actions and scroll down to the bottom, and look for the action called part 2 / finishing. Just like with the first action, press the Play button and it will work its magic!

Press Ctrl + Shift + Alt + C, and try playing your gif from there. Sometimes, the gif will be too fast and you'll need to slow it down, and you can't always tell until you play it in the 'Save for Web' window. I ended up slowing mine down from 0.05 to 0.07.

Once your gif is looking just right, press Ctrl + Shift + Alt + C again. These are the settings I use to save my gifs, and I think it makes them look really nice! Then click Save, and save your gif wherever you want.

Now, once you've saved your gif, you can post it to Tumblr (if that's what you're wanting to do) or simply keep it to yourself! But I'm sure that others would love to see your creations :D

***

A little extra info - this gif doesn't have text because there's no dialogue, but these are the settings I use for gifs with text (the text size depends on the dimensions of the gif):

Sometimes I use white text, sometimes I use yellow. And if there's more than one person talking I use both!

I hope that this tutorial was helpful, and if you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

[moamidzyism]

yuck! (h.kk)

part three: all these butterflies make me sick (+ 603 words)

you walked into kamal records arms linked with yeonjun. the two of you walk smugly to the counter to see taehyun, with a frown on his face. “what are you two doing here?” he asks you two.

“just wanted to bother you.” yeonjun jokes.

“we were also kind of hoping that our favorite barista could give us some free drinks.” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

“yeah, no.” he grabs a towel and a spray bottle.

“so much for being my best friend.” you roll your eyes. yeonjun lightly punches your arm.

“do, i mean nothing to you?”

“if you guys aren’t going to order anything, could you please get out of line?” you look around at the coffee shop. there was one other person browsing through the records.

“because you’re so busy with a line around the block.” you said under your breath as you and yeonjun walked to sit at a table next to the register. yeonjun pulls out a set of uno cards, and the two of you play until taehyun joins you ten minutes later. he groans and rests his head against the table.

“you alright, bud?” you ask, running your hands on taehyun’s back.

“just tired.” he responds, his head still on the table. “i’ve been here for five hours and i still have three more.”

“we don’t have to go to dinner tonight if you’re too tired.” yeonjun says.

“no, no i want to go.” taehyun sits up. his thirty minute break turns into an hour as he plays uno with you guys until people start filing in waiting for the open mic to begin.

“do you feel better now?” soobin asked kai, who was finally sitting down after pacing around the break room of kamal records for ten minutes.

“kind of,” he takes a swig of his water bottle, as beomgyu walks in.

“that’s good, because you're up next.” he pats him on the back. “if you’re nervous just picture everyone naked.”

“you know that is like the worst advice right?”

“there’s no need to freak out.” soobin rolls his eyes at beomgyu. “you literally do this every week. there’s nothing different about this week.”

“okay,” he breathes out. “thank you guys, and i’m sorry i’ve been mean today.”

“it’s all good.” soobin comforts his friend, and the three of them walk out.

kai walks up the stage, while his best friends go to sit at their table, next to the stage. “hi, everyone.” he speaks into the mic. “thank you all so much for coming out to this week’s open mic.” hs pauses for applause, as he scans the audience looking for you. “i’m seeing some new faces in the audience, so i hope you guys will be back next week.”

“i hope you guys loved everyone who came out today.” he steps back and clears his throat. “tonight, i’m going to be singing this song that i’ve been listening to a lot lately.”

“it’s called meadows in japan.” he says as his eyes meet yours.

something about you makes me want an us.

you’ve dreamt of a moment that could only be seen in romance movies, but you never thought that you would experience one for yourself. with his eyes on you the entire performance, you felt like you were spinning. like it was only two of you in the room, in the world even.

and then the song comes to an end.

you’re pulled away from the moment when your best friend pulls up a seat beside you, but the storm of butterflies still runs rampant in your stomach.

“are you guys ready?” he asks.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ a classic story of girl likes boy, boy likes girl a little too much. previous masterlist next

taglist (closed): @boba-beom @aestheticsluut @goldennika @beoms-sugar @bluebearybeom @planethyuka @isabellah29 @royallyjjk

fill out this form to join my permanent taglist!

[ragsy]

really boggles my mind how, in the discourse around Big Corporate Media Productions being too bogged down in marketability and revenue these days, people just. forget that smaller, creator-driven projects still exist.

"all the movies coming out of hollywood these days are made to be as unobjectionable as possible to appeal to mass audiences and they're full of product placement and military propaganda" okay. watch other movies then. there are mid- to micro-budget films coming out ALL the time on EVERY conceivable platform. check movie critic blogs and film festival entries and the new releases tab on your streaming service of choice.

"all the songs coming out these days are made to go viral on tiktok in easily clippable chunks and then be forgotten in a week" okay. listen to other music then. there are record labels that are nothing more than one guy, three buckets, and an audio engineer. there are artists out there who are making music that is weirder and less marketable than you can possibly imagine, who have <100 monthly listeners on spotify. you will love them. go find them. browse bandcamp or indie music communities or ask your friends for recommendations; i guarantee they are all sitting on one that they are DYING to share with you.

"all the video games these days are huge expensive bloated open world shooters full of microtransactions and unnecessarily detailed graphics that won't run on a computer that's only a year old" you know what i'm about to say. there are games that exist outside of the AAA space that are smaller, more focused, made by developers who aren't being ground into a fine paste by overwork. buy a bundle on humble or itch, find a streamer who focuses on indie titles.

it can be daunting to step outside of the "things you've already heard of" and "things that have been advertised to you" bubble, but i PROMISE you, there is so so so much more media out there that you will LOVE that isn't the product of some corporate executive focused on the bottom line. you just have to LOOK AROUND a little bit.

[facecollapsedthroughentropy]

Fake Plastic Trees (M.H Sneak Peek)

An aspiring florist, a problematic rockstar and a meet-cute straight out of "Nottinghill". What could possibly go wrong?

Here's a small Sneak Peek of my up and coming Mini-Series, "Fake Plastic Trees"! What do you guys think of it? Also, fair warning, this isn't really proof-read... Enjoy!

Matty was stressed out. First of all, he had just finished recording with the band and was starving after not eating the whole morning. And second of all, he was in desperate need of a gift for his dear Mum.

Hurrying down the streets of the quiter part of London, his eyes darted around in search for a florist. 

He stopped in intrigue as he read: Fake Plastic Trees — and below it, windows full of blooming, fresh flowers and plants. How ironic, he thought to himself as he giggled and walked across the road, into the small boutique.

"Hello! Welcome to "Fake Plastic Trees". If you need any help, let me know." a voice rung out, in tune with the chiming of the bell that announced his entrance.

Matty bid a quick hello and thanks, before browsing around the store. He quickly realized how helpless he actually was, overwhelmed by the amount of selection the store offered. Flowers and Blossoms from everywhere, with exotic names and appearance, some looking to be straight out of a Sci-fi movie.

"Don't think I would go for those if you're looking for a Mother's day gift." Matty heard a voice speak behind him, slightly startling him.

"Hm?" he hummed out and turned around in confusion.

"The orange lillies you were looking at. Beautiful, I know. The meaning? Not as much..." she elaborated with a grin on her face.

He opened his mouth to ask further, but was quickly shut down when he saw who was speaking to him.

Gleaming eyes, a crooked smile, slightly freckled skin leading to a pierced nose and a small dimple on the upper-left cheek. She looked like the first day of spring, with a septum piercing.

His brain short-circuited as he kept closing and opening his mouth, blubbering out a "Why?" after an embarassingly long wait.

"To keep it short, it symbolises hatred and disdain. So, unless you have a complicated relationship with your Mum, not my first choice." she explained with a small laugh at the end because of his antics, he really seemed out of it when he first caught sight of her.

"That's definitely not the type of vibe I'm going for... Anything you would recommend?" he chuckled out in slight embarassment, a rosy hue dusting his ears.

"Maybe another colour variation? Pink lillies for example! They symbolise femininity, admiration and love, often the one between parent and child." she ranted excitedly.

Seeing someone talk about something they genuinely loved was one of the most adorable things in Matty's eyes. He could listen to her going on and on about the mysteries of the flower language all day, if it meant seeing that grin and dimple.

To be continued...

[cleolinda]

In which we try to do something with the Patreon

I'm gonna try something tomorrow: the first of the month is when the Patreon billing cycle starts, so on Sunday (October 1st), I'll open a $5 level. (Right now I just have a $1 level with tumbleweed rolling by as a tip jar sort of thing.) There, you'll be able to see Effort Posts, you know, the essay-length things about vampires or perfume or music, or anything else that strikes me, early. At least 24 hours early, in a handy PDF file, and also, I can see if people like the piece before I post it here on Tumblr. Some personal pieces may stay Patreon-only, depending on the topic (do I want Tumblr at large commenting on my genealogical research? Probably not!), so there's also that. Similar things I've already posted are the Varney recaps, Donna Summer and Disco Demolition Night, Sparking Joy (Jean Patou, 1930), or my retelling of Tiny Moist Hand, so that's the kind of thing you'd see early.

That up there, in screenshot preview format, is a two-part (true) story called "I Grew Up in a Haunted House and I Didn't Notice"; it's about 5300 words all told. (Question: would you rather have the pdf in the larger font size, which I found easier to read on mobile, or the standard 12 pt, both shown above?)

After a day or so, I'll put the story here as two normal tumblr posts. So you will be able to see them here, but if you want to know how tf I could have been haunted and not known it and then my sister said I had it all wrong anyway, you can see it tomorrow on Patreon Dot Com Slash Cleolinda.

What I would also like to do is start posting weekend links as free/public posts on Sundays--kind of like a newsletter you can get whether you chip anything in or not. I'm more concerned with people knowing where I am while all these social media platforms crumble into the sea, honestly. I'll also archive some older posts as PDFs as well, although that might take a minute, so there'll be a back catalogue to browse.

As we go along, I'd like to see if I can either record some readings or just do short (under five minutes) voice posts, but I would also want to type up transcripts for those, so I need to get a feel for how much time that takes. I miss doing podcasts, although I deeply need to get a new headset. And some Throat Coat. I'm already looking over the two short Halloween stories from Livejournal that people mentioned, the ones I read aloud years ago; I'll repost those as we get further into October, and I have some posts about scary movies in the works. And you'd get those delivered to your inbox rather than them be solely awash on the waves of Tumblr.

Anyway, I'll reblog this tomorrow once the $5 level goes live, but I thought I'd get some feedback a bit in advance.

[indierpgnewsletter]

New Itch Games for April & May

Been quiet on here but I'm back now!

It’s the itch.io round-up of new games! Now coming to you once every two months because that sounds easier. Usual disclaimer: This comes from be browsing itch.io and people self-submitting through the form. I haven’t played these games and mostly am just going by how interesting they sound to me. Okay, let’s go:

The Hollow Queen: This is a GM-less horror game from Venezuelan designer, Felix Rios, about a dark force haunting the streets and the people trying to uncover it. It uses the diceless Ten Coins system and is available in Spanish.

Contact: A game where you use a music playlist and tarot cards to play through a story about trying to make contact with aliens. I think the idea is that the songs contain encoded messages from the aliens, which is a neat reversal of the Voyager Golden Record. By j strautman.

Tangled Blessings: This is a solo dark fantasy game set in a magic school. It’s a solo/duet game, building on Anamnesis by Sam Leigh. You explore the secrets of this weird school while dealing with a rival who’s making your life difficult. Designed by Cassi Mothwin.

Strike Force Omega: This is LUMEN game about science-fantasy supersoldiers coming back for one last stand, defending their homes in a time of war. By Chris Longhurst, designer of See Issue X and Pigsmoke.

Thirty Foes  (OR Once again, we are defeated): In a similar premise, but much more focused on the drama rather than tactics, this is Seven Samurai but cosmic cowboys. They sling cosmic power and defend against bandits. And they’re probably going to die. From Rat Wave Game House.

Thief and Druid: Two games from Stéphanie Dusablon. Both are solo games with an optional journaling element. Thief uses the Push system and Druid uses the Firelights system. I’m not sure if this is a series that will expand to all the D&D classes but it’s a neat idea.

Skyrealms: This is a fantasy bestiary, setting, and solo adventure game about three floating islands in the misty heights, full of secrets and strange creatures. It’s from Iko and Armanda Haller. You can also use the bestiary as a colouring book apparently!

In The Blind: This is a sci-fi horror game about working class people trying to do their job and instead facing the darkness of space. This is a free preview and showcases how good Riley Daniels, designer of As The Sun Forever Sets, is at visual design.

Queenless: This is another Firelights game from solo game blog, Croaker RPGs. You play as members of the hive, exploring the world and protecting your home from destruction.

When Prophecy Fails: Nick Wedig makes a game about cultists and what happens when their foreseen apocalypse doesn’t happen. I’ll give you a hint: they often get even more radical. Based on the For the Queen. (PWYW)

The Score: Tin Star Games GM-less storygame where you tell a heist movie in 18 minutes using 18 cards.

SDM: Eternal Return Key: Luka Rejec follows up Ultraviolet Grasslands with a full OSR-style rulset and more weird setting. It has the same much-loved psychadelic vibe from the original and there’s a free art-less version as well.

the city begins to exist: A citybuilding game with some solid prompts. I can always use more citybuilding games! Designed by kay w.

[reasonsmandy]

Headcanons of dating Eddie Roundtree

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!reader

✧.* requested by anon — Some headcanons of dating eddie would be cuteee!

✧.* word count — 1.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — writing headcanons makes me release all my fanfiction thoughts. So I give you all of them as a gift, If you want other characters from djats, my requests are open 🫶🏾

Eddie didn't have the best self-esteem in the world, and you were one of the first people to believe in his potential. You met at one of the bars where The Six performed, and that same day you made a point of going after him to congratulate him on the show.

That night the two of you spent a lot of time talking, it had been a while since Eddie felt connected and wanted by someone and you were such a different person from the others that he was enchanted by you.

He was enamoured immediately but he’d definitely play it cool determined not to scare you off.

It didn't take long for him to be interested in you, it was automatic, every time he entered the bar his eyes sought yours there and when he found you... An indescribable desire of always giving the best show to have your attention always came.

The day after one of the gigs he plucked up courage and asked for your number, he had sweaty hands and was nervous around you but as you guys talked all the nervousness was gone, he felt very comfortable with you. And when you said yes to his invitation to go out with him, he was thrilled.

Your first date was on a Friday night, after a huge afternoon of rehearsals Roundtree was finally going to have some time to relax, you didn't have a fixed plan for the meeting, you just knew that you would meet in front of the bar and there you would decide what to do.

You spent that night browsing all the restaurants nearby, you entered, ordered a dish, gave a note and then left for the next. You visited many different restaurants and tried all kinds of different foods. That sure had been a wonderful night.

It didn't take long for Eddie to stop seeing other girls and focus only on you, Warren constantly teased him for it but he loved that his best friend was falling in love again.

Soon you were part of the band's little family, just like Camila you followed the rehearsals and the songs before they came out, and this closeness made you become good friends.

When Billy went to rehab you were there to console Eddie about losing his record deal. You gave him the idea of ​​building his own bass and you spent many afternoons on this little project. He would be building the bass in your room while complaining about billy and you would always agree with him.

You didn't move into their house right away, and not because Eddie didn't want to, on the contrary he would love to have you around but you said the house already had too many people. And so when Honeycomb exploded and they got their first paycheck you asked him to share an apartment.

Knowing how to deal with the routine was difficult, even more so after they started recording Aurora, but you made an effort to wait for him to get home and receive him with a strong hug and a movie night until he fell sleep under your touch.

"Hey gorgeous, I'm home" he said, opening the front door, you looked at him smiling.

"Missed you honey, come here." You open your arms calling him to get in the couch with you. "So, how was it?"

"Hard... I almost killed Billy like 50 times but in the end the songs were really good." He says sitting next to you, he lies down between your legs receiving your cuddles.

Eddie took some time to get rid of certain insecurities, he never sang around you until a few months after you started dating.

He was in the kitchen making you both something to eat, you were on the couch reading the latest Sub Rosa magazine while waiting for him. Distracted Roundtree starts humming "Flip the switch" catching your attention immediately, you close the magazine opening a smile immediately, you approach him slowly leaning against the counter admiring him.

When he finishes singing you start applauding, he is startled by the noise, embarrassed he takes his eyes to the floor. You approach him, lifting your chin so he can look you in the eye.

"Hey Eddie Roundtree why didn't you ever tell me you could sing?" You smile at him, the bassist looks nervous, you frown. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I don't sing well, that's why I didn't tell you." He answers you, clearly unsure.

"And who told you that?" You were surprised by his speech. "Baby, I promise you, I never heard anything better."

After that day he felt more free to show you the things he created or tell you about his hidden talents. And you loved to get to know him more, and even after all this time together you always were so amazed by all his talents.

He loved it when you wore his clothes, and sometimes he'd purposely leave clothes lying around for you to wear.

He thought you didn't know he liked it, but you knew him perfectly, and that smile he had on his face every day when you wore his jacket wasn't normal.

His favourite way to spend time with you is to just vibe to your favourite bands and singers together, you jumped and sang for hours while records played in the background of your apartment.

Eddie brought you gifts from everywhere the band played, he could find things that reminded him of you everywhere, Graham always said he would spend all his money on you if he kept buying everything. But he didn't care.

Before starting any show (in which you were in the audience) he would call you close holding his bass pick in hand, he would hand it to you for you to kiss it, he said that it gave him the best luck to play.

Eddie introduced you to his grandmother, she made a special dinner for you, she loved every detail about you and soon wanted to know when Eddie would ask you to marry him.

Eddie was delighted to see the women in his life getting along, and that was the night he knew for sure that you would be his wife.

I feel like this proposal would come after he left the band, you were his biggest supporter and not because you didn't like Billy or how the band was going, but because you knew him and knew that he wasn't exploring his potential 100% and you wanted to see him happy and proud of his work.

Eddie asked you to marry him one morning where you were admiring the stars on the balcony of the apartment

You were sitting on the sofa that you had temporarily placed there, he was holding you between his legs and squeezing you tightly afraid of losing you, he was listening to you comment on the things of your day and your voice was like the most perfect melody.

He pulled away from you a bit making you stop talking to stare at him in question.

"Marry me." He says, and you feel a shiver running down your spine.

"Stop baby, don't play with things like that." You say, taking your gaze to the ground.

"I'm not playing, marry me Y/N." He holds your hands in his, looking deep into your eyes. "I don't want to waste any more time, I want to call you my wife. So, what do you say?"

You smile excitedly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him intensely.

"Of course I want to be your wife." You say after the kiss

Since that day he only called you his wife, you were everything to him, and he would do anything to make you smile.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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