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artist-issues · 10 months

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I Saw Wish

And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:

“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”

Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.

I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.

Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.

SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.

The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.

The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.

By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.

I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.

We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.

But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.

The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.

The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.

There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”

The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.

And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.

But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.

Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.

Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.

And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.

#I’ll talk more in an organized fashion later #wish #disney’s wish #wish Disney #wish 2023 #critique #spoilers

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glorixuspurpose · 7 months

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Newbie

Spencer Reid x Black!Fem!Reader Synopsis: Reader is new to the BAU and discovers that she has similar qualities to another coworker…

A/N: This is based off that one Spencer Reid fic that was basically the same concept but I can’t remember the exact name 😔 + I kinda had early seasons Reid in mind for this but it really goes for any season

“Did you hear about the new kid?” Penelope asked, making her way over to JJ’s desk.

“New kid?” She questioned.

“Well, y’know. She’s around Reid’s age, and I heard that she’s practically just like him. Besides some physical differences.” She explained.

“Oh yeah, I saw. It’s pretty weird.” Elle told them.

“Wait, shh! Here she comes now!” Penelope whisper shouted as you made your way over to them.

“Um, do you guys know where Hotchner’s office is?” You asked them awkwardly, making them glance at each other, obviously entertained.

“Yeah, but he’s in a meeting right now.” Penelope lied.

“Oh…” You said, before quickly glancing at Penelope’s shirt, which was littered with cartoon cats. “Do you like cats?” You asked her, still looking at her shirt, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah…why?”

“Did you know that most cats are actually lactose intolerant? Some can love milk, but most are. Plus, cats can’t taste anything sweet.” You informed, holding up your index finger.

The three women looked at each other in amusement. “Really?” You nodded.

“Also, did you know that the first black female FBI agent was Sylvia Elizabeth Mathis? I know that fact technically only applies to me, but…interesting factoid I guess..” You rambled.

“It’s worse than we thought…” Penelope whispered. “What is?” You asked, worried.

“You know, I think there’s someone that you’d get along pretty well with…” JJ suggested.

“Really? Who?”

“Reid!” The three of them called, making a tall and slender young man come rushing to JJ’s desk.

“New initiative.” Penelope said.

“You two have…a lot in common.” JJ finished.

You hold your hand out for him to shake, and he does as such.

“Nice to meet you…”

“Y/N.” You finished. “Did you know that the earliest depiction of a handshake was from an ancient Assyrian relief from-”

“9th Century BC? I know.” Spencer finished.

“Well…shucks. I’m not exactly used to not being the smartest.”

“You can be the smartest female! I’m willing to give up my title..” Penelope half-joked, making you chuckle.

“That’d be nice.”

“Well, Reid? Why don’t you show the young lady around?”

“Sure.” He replied, motioning for you to follow him.

You two had barely left the spot when Hotchner emerged from his office.

“Reid,” He called, making both of you stop in your tracks. “I see you’ve beaten me to welcoming our new kid.” He said smiling.

“Sorry sir,” Reid sheepishly apologized. “If you want, I can-”

“No no, I think you’ve got it.” He told him with a wink.

#spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x black!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid

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breathlesswinds · 6 months

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(Devlog) What We Learned Making A Trans Dating Game

Hello, Amelia here, the writer for Breathless Winds. It's been 250,000+ words, countless revisions, and three years since this game entered development, and I wanted to talk about what I've learned leading up to release.

The concept for Breathless Winds was actually sort of a joke between friends. I was talking with Doris about how there should be a dating game where you play as a trans woman and your dating options revolve around certain ‘tropes’ we’d both seen in trans fiction-- the totally accepting cishet guy who falls in love with the trans heroine before she even knows she’s a woman, the cool trans woman who the heroine doesn’t know if she wants to date or wants to be, and so on.

Doris wound up suggesting we make this game ourselves. We both like visual novels and want to tell LGBT stories. Still half-jokingly and half-seriously, we started fleshing out what the romance options would be and coming up with a setting-- and soon, we were fully committed to making this game real.

I was a fan of visual novels but had only ever written prose. I knew which visual novels I liked and which scenes stood out, but I didn’t know why they did or how to make my own.

I read some great advice from visual novel developers, but a good amount of my knowledge came from just working on Breathless Winds. As our first project, this game has grown a lot with us and we’ve learned a lot while making it.

Learning How to Write Visual Novels

A bad habit I had to break out of was only using the ‘novel’ part of the game and not the ‘visual’ part. I would sometimes write “He smiled” or lines like that, and Doris informed me that we can convey this much more simply with a sprite change.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but lines like that are often pretty invisible when you’re reading a non-visual novel. These lines change the sprite of the character inside your head (if that makes sense, haha). I realized that I’m so used to them being ‘invisible’ that I didn’t notice their absence in visual novels I liked, so I would accidentally include them while writing.

I was also writing these routes in a word processor, so I didn’t have the visual portion to reference, myself. I wound up making a lot of ‘tone’ notes like, “Lantana should be smug here” so that the meaning would carry when revising and implementing these into Ren’py.

So, while visual novels share a lot with prose, they’re an entirely different medium. On the subject of representing things visually, I’ve struggled trying to figure out how much can be visually represented and how much should be written.

Every asset in the game has to be drawn by Doris, so if I want the characters to go to a new location for a scene, I have to keep in mind that’s another background that Doris has to draw. If I want a new character to show up, that’s another sprite she has to draw. I don’t want to overload her, but if I’m trying to avoid this entirely, characters sometimes wind up standing in one room talking for ages without anything significant changing on-screen.

I’ve learned that it’s recommended for something to almost always be changing on-screen, though, so sometimes I just have to ask Doris to make a new asset for a certain scene. I still try to stick to locations/characters that already exist more often than not.

Every single thing in a visual novel is deliberate. Another thing I’ve had to learn that I never even considered before is how to write each line so it fits in the text box. It sounds obvious, but when I’m playing a visual novel, I don’t usually think about how each line has to be carefully constructed so it doesn’t need to be split up into two or more text boxes. In my mind, if a visual novel is well-created, there’s not much that breaks a reader’s immersion.

Planning & Outlining

The previous section might sound really weird to some people, so let me elaborate. I’m a lifelong ‘write by the seat of your pants’-er, so the biggest trial-and-error of creating Breathless Winds for me was planning out the game.

Initially, I created outlines for each of the four routes, and we agreed ahead of time on which CGs each route would have. That way, Doris could draw the necessary backgrounds and CGs while I was in the long process of drafting this game. My original outlines weren’t great. I know a lot of people have different experiences with writing, but for me personally, a story is always shaping itself in my mind. When I started making the outlines for Breathless Winds, I knew the concepts we wanted to convey, but I didn’t know what each route (and the game as a whole) was really about yet. This might sound weird and unprofessional, but sometimes, I don’t know what a story is about until I finish the first draft.

So while I was writing, I would look at my outlines and I would think, “this doesn’t actually make sense, he wouldn’t say that” or “this plot point would work better if moved to this other section” or “there’s a plot hole here I didn’t notice”. The story wound up changing a lot in this way as I learned what it’s really ‘about’.

And even after I finished the first draft, I’d get feedback from Doris and/or my editor and they would suggest fixes to problems that even I hadn’t noticed, and then I would revise the route some more, and later on I’d come back and need to redo part of the route to comply with something I wrote in a later route-- I haven’t really felt ‘finished’ with Breathless Winds at any point, and I think I’ll still feel this way after the game is released.

This means that sometimes, a background was created but would go unused because there was no space for the scene that would use it, or we’d need a new CG last-minute, or so on.

When I’m figuring things out as I go while writing a non-VN, the only person that I can adversely affect is my own self… so I’m eternally grateful for all of Doris’s patience with me on this matter. I think Breathless Winds has come out a much better game for all the re-plotting and revision.

I redid the outlines several times as I went. I think I’ve understood how to create outlines that personally work for me-- ‘living’ outlines that hit all the main points, but leave wiggle room for moments when a character does something unexpected, work the best for me.

Scope Creep

So, originally, each route was meant to be 40,000 words. “With four routes, that’s only 160,000 words!” I thought. “And some of my favorite visual novels are about that long, so I can write that much, too!” ← clueless

This is the most infamous mistake that new creators make, and I walked right into it. I should have known better since I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with past non-VN writing projects before, but I was starry-eyed and didn’t realize how much work it is to make a VN. Some of those favorite visual novels I referenced were made by much larger teams, writers whose full-time job was writing (I wrote all of these routes on the side while working at a day job).

If I could have done it again, I would have asked Doris to start out with a really short VN. But, I don’t regret making Breathless Winds at all. It’s brought Doris and I a lot closer, for one. Every time I thought I wanted to give up on this, Doris would motivate me to continue. Without the two of us both and our strong friendship, Breathless Winds wouldn’t exist, and I think that’s beautiful.

No matter what, we’re going to see it through to the end. (I hope people like it, though…)

Anyway, here I am talking about how much 40,000 words is. Each route now is about 60k to 70k words. The problem with having evolving outlines is that they can often evolve into double their original size.

We came up with the idea of the poachers really early in development, and then not addressing the poachers felt like a failing, but by that point it was too late to remove the poachers entirely… and so the game wound up a lot longer dealing with the poachers.

I think that if we had an editor sooner on in the game’s development, then we might have had someone to tell us, “do you really need all of this in the game? Does this plot point really need to be there? Will you be able to write all of this in a reasonable amount of time?”, haha. But Doris and I were really excited about the possibilities of this game when we started creating it, and without anyone to reel us back in, we wound up coming up with more and more things we wanted to put in the game.

Did you know there was going to be an island full of talking rats who say things like “the big cheese” and stuff all the time in Breathless Winds? Yeah.

The Core Design Philosophy of Breathless Winds

So, for anyone who’s read this far but doesn’t know yet-- the premise of Breathless Winds is that you play as a trans woman who doesn’t know she’s trans yet, and she finds love with one of four love interests as she discovers her gender identity.

In real life, it can be a lot messier for a person to date when discovering their gender identity. To put it briefly and mildly, a trans person’s life and sense of personal identity can rapidly change during a gender crisis and the early stages of transition.

However, we wanted to make this game a ‘wish-fulfillment’ type story-- a trans fantasy about acceptance, community, and love. During a gender crisis, it can be easy to feel as if one has lost touch with themselves and become isolated from others. A sincere wish shared by many trans people is to be accepted, loved, and even celebrated as their true gender, not just tolerated.

Since many trans people don’t get love and acceptance in real life, especially with the ongoing transphobic moral panic, we wanted to create a game that would bring this feeling of trans joy and celebration to trans audiences.

We also hope that cis players will still enjoy the story and characters, and maybe come away from the game with a new understanding about being transgender and other aspects of LGBT identity (although we never intended this game to be ‘educational’).

Making Characters that Celebrate Trans Identity

Although we went through several revisions, the core identities of each character stayed the same since the game was first ‘jokingly’ pitched. In another post, I discussed how each character is themed around a change in seasons. (I also wound up theming them around the four humors when I was initially concepting them-- I really wanted to avoid too much ‘overlap’ in the LI’s personalities, haha).

Ultimately, characters are created to serve a role. The LIs in Breathless Winds were designed to be love interests, of course-- characters who would appeal to the hypothetical trans femme audience. As mentioned earlier, we modeled them after other trans fiction tropes because these types of characters have a certain tried-and-true appeal, but this left plenty of flexibility to put our own spin on it.

A trans woman being loved as a woman by a cishet guy can feel like a high form of ‘passing’, ‘fitting in’ to the female gender role, and being validated by his orientation. He only likes women, and he likes you, so you’re undoubtedly a woman. As a cishet guy, he represents a sort of acceptance into a societal norm that trans women can desire to live to. (Lantana, as a cis lesbian, represents the sapphic counterpoint to this-- although there is of course a big gap between the ‘normalcy’ of a cishet man and a cis lesbian woman, and I don’t mean to say those two are equivalent.)

But not all trans women want to live to that (cis) societal norm. Rue and Valerian, as a trans woman and a trans man respectively, are the t4t options.

Rue’s route represents that trans/sapphic ‘envy’ (“do I want her or do I want to be her?”) as well as finding power in community aside from what society considers ‘normal’. We’ve always been pretty clear about what we wanted to do with Rue’s route.

We went back and forth a lot more on Valerian’s route. Initially, we were unsure if he should be trans. He and Rue are the two less-friendly love interests (at least initially), so I was afraid it would come across that t4t is a more hostile option, which is not true at all. But it also felt like a mistake to not have a trans man in the game-- but making Gallardia trans would have required a big overhaul of what we had in mind for him and his route. (Although, childhood friends t4t is a really good idea...)

Beyond that, Valerian takes a villainous role in any route that isn't his own. We were worried that it would be wrong to have a trans antagonist who represents unjust power. However, Breathless Winds is a queer game with other positive trans characters, and we've always approached Valerian as a hot anti-villain man that you can't help but like.

In the end, Valerian’s route is about breaking generational cycles and what it is that makes you a man, and I also managed to sneak in a scene where they dance at a ball in the royal palace, so in the end I think it all worked out great.

Wish Fulfillment and Catharsis

Doris and I both agreed that we wouldn’t depict on-screen transphobia in Breathless Winds. Poppy worries about not being accepted, but fear of acceptance can come with any change in identity. Rue was rejected by her family for being trans, but this doesn’t take place ‘on screen’ in the game. There exist certain metaphorical parallels for transness and transphobia, but every route has a happy ending.

Following up on this-- it can be difficult to write about discovery of gender identity without writing about transphobia, considering how many trans people suffer from internalized transphobia during their period of repression.

Sometimes, repressed/closeted transgender people ‘hyper-perform’ their assigned gender as a form of denial. A trans woman might grow out a beard and join a gym, while a trans man might become very interested in makeup and feminine clothing.

In Breathless Winds, Poppy often struggles with ‘strength’ and what it means to be a man. In several routes, she tries to prove her strength under the assumption that being stronger would make her happy. Afraid the world would reject her if she became who she really is, she preemptively rejects herself.

Not every trans person suffers from prolonged denial, internalized transphobia, or even gender dysphoria. I don’t think it’s impossible to tell a purely-positive story about trans joy.

While Poppy never gets rejected for being trans, faces transphobia, gets called a slur, etc, she faces both internal and external (metaphorical) obstacles to realizing and accepting her identity.

Gallardia represents a societal norm that Poppy can’t live up to herself as a man.

Lantana suffers from certain aspects of her identity as a woman, which makes Poppy feel guilt for wanting to be a girl.

Rue is isolated from town at the start of her route, a ‘punishment’ for breaking this societal norm.

Valerian has to hyper-conform to his masculine gender role at first in toxic ways before finding acceptance from within and from his loved ones.

These struggles are real to a lot of people, but instead of pretending they don’t exist, I hoped to tell a story about catharsis. Poppy is able to live up to her truth as a woman and finds love with Gallardia, Poppy and Lantana redefine what being a woman should and does mean to them, Rue and Poppy find community in others who don’t fit the norm, Poppy and Valerian stop seeking gender validation from a society that was never made to serve them.

Although these powerful forces of oppression exist, loving yourself as a trans person- and loving those around you, protecting the natural world, and standing up for what you believe in- can save the day. That’s the kind of story we wanted to tell.

Wrap-up

There’s a lot more I could write, but this has already gotten really long (sorry!) so I’ll wrap it up here.

Learning how to write a visual novel in terms of technical skill (how to depict events on-screen, how long each line should be) as well as in terms of writing skill (how to outline the game, how to plan visual assets) has been a massive undertaking for me.

Writing Breathless Winds has been a big challenge but also deeply rewarding, and all of your support has made the experience even more wonderful. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting the game!

#visual novel #otome #dating sim #amare #trans #lgbt #breathless winds

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perfectsunlight · 4 months

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( 𝟮𝟴 ) ✏ 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 (𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

“what are you wearing?” minjeong said slowly, brows furrowed as she set her bag down and took a seat in front of you. she was used to your usual overdressed sense of style, but this was entirely different today.

you raised your eyebrows at the president before moving your hair to show your outfit off more. “do you not like it?” the two of you had agreed to meet at a cafe near the university since jennie had an at home interview today and they wouldn’t be able to hold their session at their usual spot. soft jazz played in the establishment while minjeong got settled in her seat.

the blonde’s eyes scanned your ensemble as her confusion deepened. she gently shook her head before turning her attention to her book bag, unzipping it as she spoke.“it’s not that i don’t like it. it’s just unexpected. did you have something special planned today?”

you glanced at your watch, biting your lip in thought. “well, actually, yes. i’m going out after we’re done.”

minjeong blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to surprise. “isn’t your exam review tomorrow morning? you’ll be tired.”

you shrugged nonchalantly before rolling your eyes. “you sound like my sister.”

smu’s president forced a chuckle, her fingers fumbling with the zipper of her bag. “i just want you to do well,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding yours. “your hair looks cool.” you said as casually as possible, not even looking at the girl while you complimented her.

the blonde felt her face heat up slightly before mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ as she handed you a pencil. “so where are you going?”

you smiled, a hint of excitement in your eyes. “i have a date.”

minjeong didn’t know why her heart sank, though she managed to keep her expression neutral. “oh, that sounds nice,” she said, forcing a small smile. “who is this mystery person?”

“is this an interrogation, president?” you snickered as you adjusted your top. the other girl laughed, though it felt hollow. “because i need to know if i’m still driving you home tonight,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “i like having a plan.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “well, don't worry, you won’t have to.” your hands flipped open your notebook and slid it to minjeong. it was customary to start your sessions with minjeong grading the homework she gave to you the previous session.

minjeong took the notebook, her eyes scanning the pages, but her mind was elsewhere. she forced herself to focus, scribbling notes and comments in the margins. the usual rhythm of your sessions provided a temporary distraction, but the thought of you on a date kept creeping back into her mind.

her gut feeling told her it was wonyoung. she didn’t like the feeling of wony going on a date with you. not because she liked you or anything, but because the taller girl wasn’t a good person.

well, that was minjeong’s logic anyway.

the usual session proceeded like normal, with you diving into the material and minjeong guiding you through the concepts. despite the concepts you were still struggling to understand, you both managed to focus and make progress.

your work always felt easier to do when she was present. minjeong truly was gifted, and you could see it in everything she did.

as the time neared 7:30, minjeong took out a red pen and started writing you some practice problems. “am i driving you to your date?” she said as a half joke, but also a half real question. you chuckled and shook your head. “no, she’s picking me up here.”

“wonyoung?” the president questioned in a manner as nonchalant as she could muster. your swift nod was the only answer you gave.

minjeong’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile. “alright then. i hope it goes well.” she slid your notebook back across the table to you and put her pen away.

“thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile. “thank you for your help, again.”

minjeong nodded as she rose to pack her bag, but didn’t leave her seat. “are you going on a date too?” you teased as you noticed the other girl hadn’t left yet and it was already close to 7:45.

minjeong laughed lightly, shaking her head. “no, no date for me tonight. i just want to make sure you’re okay before i leave.”

you appreciated her concern, but tried to downplay it. “i’ll be fine, really. jennie didn’t pay you to babysit me.” you joked, earning a raised eyebrow from the blonde. “i’d rather not upset your sister.”

you glanced at your phone, checking for any messages from wonyoung, but there were none. “everything okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. you sighed, putting your phone down. “she’s late. maybe she got held up?”

minjeong bit her lip, feeling a mix of anger and sadness for you. “i’m sure she’ll be here soon,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “try calling her?”

and so you did, only to be left with dial tones and a voicemail greeting.

“she’s probably driving,” you said quickly and put your phone down again. minjeong hummed in feigned agreement, already having a feeling that wonyoung would not be coming.

another fifteen minutes passed, and minjeong’s concern grew. you kept glancing at your phone, checking the time and your messages. it was clear that wonyoung wasn’t coming, and your initial optimism was long gone.

finally, you sighed, slipping your phone back into your bag. “i guess she’s not coming,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the hurt in your voice.

minjeong’s heart broke at the tone in your voice. any other day, she would make fun of you or crack a joke. maybe even laugh at you. however, today she felt like just being supportive.

to be honest, she never wanted to see you upset. and to see you so disappointed over a girl who wasn’t worth it? it broke her heart.

“we can just go out instead.” the blonde suggested as she rose from her chair and swung her bag over her shoulder. you raised an eyebrow at the girl, smirking slightly as you also stood.

“like a date?”

“no, just like how we always go out.” the president quickly responded as she held the door open for the both of you to walk. “you’re holding my door open? seems like a date to me.” minjeong’s blush only deepened before she rolled her eyes at you. “you know what, i’m taking you home.” minjeong huffed in annoyance. a grin crawled onto your face as you decided to keep teasing the president.

“are you going to open my car door too?”

“i’m actually going to lock it so you can’t get in.”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

#smau #kpop smau #aespa smau #aespa x reader #winter x reader #minjeong x reader #wlw #crack fic #kpop crack #fluff #the variable #perfectsunlight

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sharkneto · 1 month

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So. Season 4.

Let’s start with the good. In no particular order -

The road trip. Loved the energy of them all together again and suffering mildly and looking terrible. I appreciate we didn’t waste a bunch of time with them without their powers.

Gene and Jean were great. Loved their energy, the right level of weird. Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally were perfectly cast for the roles.

Liked the idea of the Keepers, the consequence of all the timeline meddling leaking through.

Loved the concept of the subway-between-timelines. That aesthetic slaps for the map alone.

The Truman Show Christmas Town. They nailed the creepy energy, I liked how ridiculously well-armed it was, I liked that they all died badly, I liked that the Umbrellas got to flex their powers. Diego’s flipping and bullet-mancy was fun, as was him cheating at the axe game to win his kids toys. Luther finally being properly bulletproof was also nice.

Ben Doc-Ock-ing around on the Horror. And the Horror dragging behind him while powers were booting back up. Silly fun.

Loved that Viktor dated and was unable to hold on to every eligible woman in Halifax. Daddy Issues strike again and again, poor guy.

It makes no sense for the level of tech in the show, but I did laugh at Ben being a Crypto Bro. That is the exact way in which his personality sucks.

Jerome and Nancy. If they had left Diego being suspicious of Lila seeing that “little Greek guy” as a “haha it’s just Five!” joke, it is very funny. But they didn’t. Alas.

I didn’t hate the ending! I will always think redemption through living is a better and more powerful conclusion, but them all dying to save the world because they’re the force causing repeat apocalypses was always on the table as an option. I thought they did a good job hitting emotions, them all snarking together until the end felt in character and heartfelt; if other writing choices didn’t happen before it, I think they could have really stuck that landing. I thought the easter eggs of characters from earlier seasons was fun, I hope the Handler still sucks as a regular person.

Overall, I was vibing for the first four episodes. Was it perfect? No. It was never going to be, but I could overlook the usual UA cringe and plotholes because my favorite guys were back on the screen and having good character moments together and fumbling along to save the world. I don’t usually care about spoilers, but I worked hard to avoid S4 spoilers specifically because I didn’t want expectations. The show was going to do what it was going to do, and I didn’t want to judge it for things it was never going to be. And that strat worked well for the first half of the season! It was on par with S3, which I’m an apologist for – had stuff I liked and stuff I was going to be happy to ignore, but overall we’re having a good time! My favorite dysfunctional family is here, I had missed them!

Then Ep5 hit. And we’re onto the problems and things I would change (under the cut --)

The biggest problem of the season is that the pacing was wack, in both an internal time-frame and technical-writing frame.

Internally, media for some reason has no idea how long a year is. Some of the Hargreeves’ problems at the beginning of the season would have worked much better if we were jumping in at year two or three of being in the new timeline, six years is a long time. Diego and Lila’s growing pains at being parents and living a domestic life, how to balance having kids makes more sense to be at this point. And the first couple years of adapting to no-powers-new-universe is way more interesting that hopping in once they’re all settled into mostly-sad patterns (which is in character for them all, they’re disasters). Why not an opening montage of them in their active struggle? Why are we picking up six years later? Unfortunately, because of Ep5, it does feel like the whole point of such a long time jump was to get Five’s body to a legal age and not just so Aidan wouldn’t have to pretend he’s physically a teen anymore (even though we have 30-year-olds playing teens all over other TV shows).

From a technical writing standpoint, for a show that only has six episodes to bring about a satisfying conclusion to a plot as convoluted and bonkers as UA has, they squandered Episode 5. The first four episodes we were moving along, finding plot points, getting Umbrellas in position to move things forward, and then Ep5 hits and is anyone except Viktor and Ben doing something for the plot??? The show is at its strongest with the Umbrellas are together, and it went out of its way to split them up. I also usually love character time, but we had no time to spare! We spend most of the episode either with Five and Lila in the subway, or with Klaus in the world’s most fucked-up situation. And neither do anything to build meaningfully towards the final episode! A weird choice to have your show screech to a halt in its penultimate episode.

Usually, Klaus’ side adventures loop in some important detail that pushes things forward in an unexpected way – he destroys Hazel and ChaCha’s briefcase because of Vietnam, he finds the Kugelblitz, he puts Reggie in position to use Oblivion. This time? He’s getting used and abused by a gang and buried alive to be reunited with Allison so that we… gain nothing? Except Klaus and Allison have made up from their fight? Why did I have to watch Klaus get possessed and fucked for that to happen? Why did they do that to him and me. I don’t mind angst and the incredible fucked-up situations, but it has to be earned and the story didn’t gain anything from it. Klaus just had a horrific time because that’s what he gets, I guess.

And now we get to Five and Lila. Five and Lila, Five and Lila, Five and Lila. The thing is – I don’t hate the idea of them. Obviously, it’s not anything I was ever going to ship on my own, but if they’re going to do it, I can see how and why. They even set it up in a way that I go “yeah I get it.” The thing is, after setting it up, they completely forgot what makes either character themselves or compelling so that they could be shoehorned into Cottagecore Bliss in the greenhouse and the most boring romance possible. If we're committed to doing this, I wish they’d had a weird trauma-bonded relationship in the rat pits of the subway, I would have understood that. Supported it even, tbh. Let them be weird and feral together, yelling and emoting at each other over eastbound vs westbound trains. Instead, Five, who for the past three seasons has been driven by his need to save his family, is happy to delay returning and give up on them to keep very quietly playing house with Lila. What the fuck. Lila, who cannot handle domestic life with Diego and her three children, can handle being a housewife with Five and wear soft sweaters and dresses. They didn’t try to kill each other once! I said way back after S3 aired that I didn’t like Lila’s pregnancy plot because it was going to tie her down in weird ways, and lo and behold! UA writers cannot write women, and it sucks that Lila was yet another casualty of that.

And then the whole thing shafts Diego. I know Diego and Lila don’t have a particularly healthy relationship, but he’s an Umbrella and Lila’s mom is the Handler. I think they do pretty well for what they’re working with, they have a fun chemistry, and it seemed (before this season) they really loved each other. Why did Steve write them off instead of letting their arc be them falling back in love (well, I guess that was Diego’s arc. Wasn’t Lila’s)? Now the three of them get to spend the final episode of the entire show in an unhappy, unnecessary love triangle instead of us getting to watch the Umbrella Academy fully join together to save the world one last time.

After all of that, the rest of my complaints feel like small potatoes. Why don’t we do another numbered list to round out this essay. In no particular order –

It sucks Ben was the plot driver of the season and then doesn’t even get to die with his family, just melted and turned into mindless Cleanse Goo. I was excited for him to get to do more, was excited for a payoff for Viktor trying to return the favor of Umbrella Ben sacrificing himself for him. I wish the Cleanse was more squiddy because it was made out of the two squiddiest characters.

UA has gotten more and more flexible with powers as the seasons have gone, but I straight up do not know what Allison’s power was at the end. Was she telekinetic? Was she Rumoring reality? Why did we have to use that to graphically crush a man’s balls in front of Claire? I liked that the powers got an upgrade and a twist, for the most part, but that only works if we know what they are. Lila has laser eyes and I thought that was it until they needed her to mimic powers again in the last episode. Five can’t blink anymore because he now just goes to the subway (still an aesthetic that is cool, and a cool way to have it tied in a different way to time), unless he’s doing it with Lila? Viktor just has energy now, I guess, sound doesn’t seem to be part of it.

Abigail. I did not fully follow what her motivation was. I wanted her to be comically evil, worse than Reggie, but – again- UA writers can’t write women so I guess she was just a good guy benevolently taking skin suits so she could get the world to end to save the world. Boring. Reggie also should have recognized his wife even if she was wearing Gene and kissed Nick Offerman.

Why didn’t Five have a reaction to his Apocalypse? He had PTSD flashbacks in S1! He was trapped there for four decades! It’s been six years but it’s not like he was working on his mental health during that time. No reaction???? Don’t even get me started on Delores and his “Good thing I’ve never been married” comment.

I’m not usually for fan service, but it felt like the season was actively trying to avoid fan service. Was Gene and Jean’s dance really the only dance party of the season? Five doesn’t have a single fight scene to fun music? Five doesn’t kill anyone all season??? What the fuck.

I wish the Fives in the Five Diner were Sean Sullivan. Bring back Old Five, why would Five fuck up his jump back in every timeline.

The gratuitous fat shaming. It’s always been bad with Luther, but absolutely ridiculous the comments made about Diego.

I don’t particularly like Sloane but where the fuck was Sloane. And I hope Ray not being in the show was a scheduling conflict, because that was tragic that he off-screen left Allison with no further explanation or context. Didn’t feel very Ray.

A lot of character arcs from over the whole show stagnate or go backwards. Luther is back at the Academy after working to build his own identity. Klaus I guess has to be on drugs if he has his powers. I don’t know what’s going on with Allison and Claire’s relationship – it seems bad at the beginning but just sort of fixes itself when they go rescue Klaus? Diego tries to have an arc to understand how much good he has with his family, but the writers won’t let Lila be part of that. Don't get me started on Five.

I wish the writing team cared enough to actually know the characters. Luther’s powers aren’t tied to him being gorilla’d – that was a separate event, why would the marigolds re-gorilla him. Lila likes bracelets, one of the very first things she did in the show was take and keep the one Diego made. It’s little things, but they go a long way in making us know the creative team cares, rather than just jerking around these characters because they have an idea the think is funny or shocking and requires characters to go against their established personalities and motivations to pull off.

Overall – it was fine, which is not the energy you want when finishing one of the most popular shows on one of the biggest streaming platforms. I get why people are upset, I get a lot of mourning is happening, but I hope we can find a spot where we can enjoy what we have and play in the space again.

It was always going to be a rough goodbye. This show, as cliché as it is, changed my life. I started writing because of it. I’ve made some incredible friends because of it. It helped me figure out I was trans, because of Elliot Page. I’m going to miss it. I’m going to keep hanging around here having fun with the characters, but I’ll miss the fandom, too, as people move on to whatever the next new thing is.

It's been a ride, everyone!

#tua #tua s4 #tua s4 spoilers #shark's tua thoughts #it's a long one folks #but it gets a lot of my thoughts out if they're something people are interested in

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caffedrine · 2 months

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Rio Ortiz - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present – Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

On her day off, Emma sits in Rio’s room, drinking the tea he brewed.

Suddenly the door slams open, and to Emma’s shock a little kid who looks like a mini-Rio walks in, only to stop and stare at her as if she was the interloper.

The kid asks who she is, also asking what she thinks she’s doing in his room. Rio, who is also in the room, asks the kid who he is.

Valerio.

Huh, that name rings a bell for some reason.

Rio kindly introduces himself and asks Valerio about his circumstances.

Well, he was just at the courtyard pool in the garden, but before he knew it, he was magically in the palace hallway. It was weird and scary, so he returned to his room, only to find them.

Rio nods and surmises that this is himself as a child somehow transported to the future. Emma feels like there were a lot of jumps to that reasoning - but here they are with a kid who looks like he’s doing his best not to cry, so she’ll go with it.

Besides, he looks just like a mini-Rio - all cute and adorable.

(Picture this but clingier)

Valerio does, unfortunately, break down into tears, and he asks them why he is here and what should he do. Emma reaches out and pulls him into an embrace, which Valerio admits he likes.

Rio explains that somehow Valerio has found himself in his own future. Until they find a way to send him back to his own world, it might be better if Valerio stayed with them.

Since they’re here now, Emma asks if Valerio would like to play some games with him. Valerio cheers at this, he wants to go swimming, can they go to the beach.

He’s cute and a little spoiled, but Emma can’t bring herself to mind. She offers to make the three of them lunch to Valerio’s delight.

Literally peeling Valerio off of Emma, Rio offers to arrange the carriage.

Valerio complains, he was comfortable hugging Emma, and she smells nice too!

Rio explains that Emma is his fiancé, and surely Valerio isn’t so rude as to try to cuddle someone else’s fiancé.

Well, if Rio is Valerio’s future self, that means Emma is his fiancé too. So, where is the problem?

(No! We are not applying logic to this situation!)

Oh, there is a big problem. Rio is the one who fell in love with Emma, confessed his feelings, grew his love with Emma, and got her to fall in love with him. Not Valerio. Yet.

Valerio grumbles that his adult self is especially heartless. Come to think of it, they have different names too . . .

Rio explains the concept of nicknames to Valerio, which blows his younger self’s mind.

Besides, it’s the name Emma picked for him . . .

Valerio complains about the weird expression Rio is making. Rio explains that he is never normal when he talks about Emma. He launches into a speech about all of Emma’s wonderful and excellent qualities.

Rio ends his profuse compliments by comparing Emma to an angel, which Valerio latches on. With shining eyes, he asks if Emma really is an angel.

Angels are kind, and pretty, and probably smell as nice as Emma. After listening intently to Rio, Valerio is now convinced that Emma is an angel touching down on earth.

Emma tries to explain metaphors to Valerio.

Valerio gives her a really big wink; angels are supposed to pretend they’re human when they walk on earth. Don’t worry, he totally understands.

Emma turns to Rio for help.

Rio muses that Valerio has a point, and besides, it’s not like she has ever proved that she’s not an angel.

Valerio is happy, he’s going to the beach with an angel!

Defeated, Emma goes with it. Valerio is smart, he’ll figure it out eventually.

At the beach, Valerio puts his mind to collecting beautiful seashells for his angel- oops- his fiancé. Rio helps, and soon it’s time for lunch.

Valerio cheers at eating lunch on the beach, and Rio fawns over Emma’s homemade meals.

They make sandcastles - or at least something similar. Valerio is proud of his boat; Emma thinks her rose cake is quite nice and Rio . . . Rio made an effigy of Emma out of sand. Rio is satisfied with his near-lifelike idol of Emma - he can admit that there are limits to how cute something that is not Emma could be.

It’s starting to get late, so Rio suggests they return to the castle. Valerio, finally showing signs of exhaustion, agrees. Emma suggests that they bring back some of the seashells and make a decoration out of them to commemorate this trip.

Valerio grows quiet - he likes the idea, but anything he ‘owns’ will be taken from him.

Oh, right, back then Rio wasn’t allowed to have things.

Rio assures him that in this day and age, that won’t happen. Valerio snaps back that Rio is a liar, everything is always stolen from him.

Emma comforts Valerio and asks him to trust her. She’s an angel, so her words are true, right? He doesn’t need to worry about that happening here.

Valerio relaxes, smiling up at her with pure trust.

Rio remarks that all teasing aside, Emma is an angel to him and Valerio. The smile that he gives her is gentler than Valerio’s dazzling smile, but no less warm and trusting.

Maybe, if only for these two, being an angel isn’t so bad.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz

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kindahoping4forever · 2 years

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Laying Here In Nothing But My Feelings // Luke Hemmings

This fic is 1000% dedicated to @cal-puddies - I had an inexplicable - and rather explicit - Luke breakdown in our chat over the summer and she not only egged me on but when I was done, she was immediately like "fic please." It was essentially a joke between us until Christmas Day (lmao) when she suggested taking my concept for a spin could be a fun way to spend the holiday. And here we are now! Everyone say thank you, Cass! (And also for giving notes and feedback as always and just generally being the best.)

This is the first Luke fic I've managed to finish on my own (Waiting For It Gets So Boring was co-written with Cass!) so please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more!

Warnings: Boyfriend!Luke, band responsibility disrupting sexy plans (no angst, just sexual frustration and tension). Dirty talk, use of sex toys (solo and partnered), sexting, masturbation, prolonged teasing, lowkey body worship, very brief oral sex (female receiving), very not brief rimming (male receiving). For real, like 2500 words of this is rimming. So. Also I apparently mention Luke's thighs 12 times. I'm fine.

Word Count: 12,575

Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

I no longer use a tag list so more than ever, these fics live and die by reblogs! If you enjoy, please consider sharing so it can circulate and be seen by other readers!

“Oh… oh just like that… don’t stop… don’t stop… oh… babe, wait… Ash?”

Luke looks up from between your legs, mouth glistening, breath heavy, eyes shining with hunger and amusement. “Honestly shocking that’s the first time you’ve accidentally called out his name,” he cracks, snorting at his own joke as he dodges the kick you aim at his chest.

“Haha,” you respond dryly, grabbing your phone off the nightstand and holding it out for him to see. “I told you not to send him to voicemail all those times, now he won’t stop calling me.”

“A likely story,” he jokes, reaching for his own phone. He sits on the edge of the bed to text Ashton while you curl up behind him, nipping at his shoulder.

“Tell him you’re busy,” you purr, reaching around to wrap a hand around his cock. You thumb over his slit, spreading the precum around, smiling at the hiss he lets out when you start slowly stroking. “Tell him you’ve had a hard morning and you can’t be bothered until you deal with some pressing matters… like pressing this cock into my ---”

Luke jumps as his phone vibrates in his hand. “Hey, man, what’s going on?” He answers, rushing out his greeting while stilling your hand. You relent and instead peck at the freckles on his neck. “Wha--- I thought that wasn’t due until tomorrow… oh I guess I didn’t see when that email was sent… so like, today tomorrow?”

The sound of this conversation instantly alarms you and you pop your head around to his line of vision to let him know, shaking your head. He grimaces in response, nodding silently as he listens to Ashton’s monologue.

“Okay… no, of course I’m not too busy, of course I can be there,” he answers, mouthing sorry at the way your jaw drops. “I can be on the freeway in like 10, I’ll text when I’m there.”

He ends the call and frowns at the look of disbelief on your face. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he starts, immediately scurrying around the room, cock still half hard. “We fucked up and that new song’s gotta be mixed, mastered and turned in before midnight tonight, not tomorrow.”

“Oh wow, that’s intense,” you offer with quiet compassion. He disappears into the closet and you chew your lip, trying to swallow down the disappointment you’re feeling. You wonder out loud, “And you guys can’t just send files back and forth like you have before?”

He emerges, dressed and pulling on his leather jacket. “Ash already called an engineer in so we all should probably be on site,” he explains, sighing as he grabs his jewelry off the dresser. “I’d have loved to hold off, spend a little more time here but the guy’s already on his way, Ash is flipping out, I’m closest to the studio… I just don’t really have a choice.”

“Aww, Lu, that sucks,” you sympathize. He sits on the bed to pull on his shoes and you rest your head on his shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly. “Sucks your day is starting off so chaotic, sucks we gotta spend it apart now. I was really looking forward to spending today in bed with you.”

“Me too, honey. Me too,” he laments, offering you an apologetic kiss.

The kiss begins sweet but he can’t help deepening it and you eagerly pull him in closer by the lapels of his jacket. “You got ready pretty quick, babe… Think you’ve got a spare few minutes?” You murmur, leaning back on the bed seductively, hoping to woo him back into bed.

Luke’s eyes scan over your form with interest before he shakes his head, as if he’s physically trying to break a spell you’ve cast on him. He lets out a groan of your name that’s part desire, part regret. “Baby, we both know I can’t be trusted to keep it to my ‘spare few minutes’,” he flirts. He pecks your lips again as he eases off the bed. “Promise I’ll make it up to you tonight!”

“You’re assuming I won’t have already worn myself out in your absence,” you tease, fighting a giggle as he stumbles grabbing his backpack, clearly distracted by what you just said.

“Okay, well now that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about all day,” he says with a wink, heading out the door. A beat passes and then his voice calls out from the staircase, “Love you!”

“Love you,” you respond, slumping against the pillows.

The whirlwind of the past few minutes sinks in as you stare at the ceiling. You tried to react reasonably, obviously you recognize the predicament Luke is in, but you also think you’re allowed to be disappointed. It’s been ages since the two of you spent some quality time together and setting aside today to lay around and just enjoy each other was Luke’s idea in the first place.

You sprawl out, figuring you might as well appreciate how much more spacious Luke’s bed is than yours; you run your hand longingly across his side of the bed, giving a sad laugh when you knock into the bottle of lube beside his pillow, a lost vestige of a sexy morning abandoned. An idea sparks in your mind and you sit up excitedly, grabbing the bottle and your phone.

* * *

Across town, Luke finds a corner table to sit and wait for his order. You were right, he did have a spare few minutes and he decided nothing softens the blow of an unexpected studio day like fresh donuts waiting for everyone. He proudly sends an update text to Ash and is about to polish off the powdered sugar donut he picked up for himself when a notification from you pops up on the screen.

Glad to see you’re not still upset about his sudden exit, he taps on your name and his smile quickly morphs into a smirk when he sees the photo you’ve sent - a bottle of lube and a box of tissues atop your nightstand, while your hand dips into the middle drawer, “the fun drawer” as it was dubbed when you first started bringing toys over. The accompanying text reads:

Wonder if something in here can make me feel as good as you would’ve.

He catches his lip between his teeth as he types back:

Miss your taste so much already, baby… Use the suction vibe, the pink one we took on vacation. I know it’ll make you cum just as hard as my tongue would.

You giggle reading your boyfriend’s message, pleased at having correctly guessed what his selection would be. You laugh again, this time with a bit more of an edge, as you lube up an entirely different vibrator, the thrusting toy he left for you when he was leaving for tour. When the purple silicone looks nice and slick, you hold it out in front of your phone, making sure your hand is wrapped around the widest part of the base, hoping that’ll make him think about it stretching you out.

Luke stares at the box of donuts he just sat on the passenger seat, wondering if he should fasten the seat belt around it to keep it in place. His phone vibrates on the dashboard and a thrill runs through him when he picks it up to see another notification from you. He was hoping he'd hear from you again, maybe get a sexy afterglow pic to thank him for his toy suggestion.

He takes a sip of coffee as he opens your message and immediately sputters it back into the cup, hurrying it back into the cup holder so he can examine the photo. He zooms in, trying to determine if the vibe is covered in lube or you before determining the answer doesn't really matter because now all he's thinking about is how wet you felt against his face this morning, how his beard still vaguely smells like you.

He runs a hand through his hair, flustered, and finally notices you sent a text as well.

Thanks for the rec but I think I'm more in the mood for this one. Gonna put it on the highest setting and let it absolutely ruin me the way I wanted you to. Would give anything for this to be you. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss you, miss your cock too much already.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters to himself as he resumes staring at the picture. He remembers the videos you sent while he was overseas, how relentless the toy’s thrusting motion seemed to be, the way your legs wouldn’t stop shaking by the time you were done with it, how he dreamt of the noises you made for the next three nights. “Coulda been you, dummy,” he chastises himself, deciding that while donuts are great, his time would’ve been better spent making sure you were satisfied before he left. * * *

You bite your lip, pressing the tip of the vibe to your entrance, teasing yourself. You briefly entertained the idea of queuing up some porn, maybe lighting a candle or two, but between your interrupted orgasm with Luke and the thrill of sexting him, you’ve accepted you probably won’t need much to get off.

Your phone buzzes nearby and you blindly pat around the bed until you find it. You click the new message, already plotting your saucy response, when suddenly your mind goes completely blank as a picture of Luke’s hand gripping his visibly hard cock through his pants fills your screen.

Fuck, baby… I should’ve stayed. You should be cumming around my cock instead of that toy… should be babbling to me instead of an empty room… should be making a mess on me instead of my sheets. Fuck. I need you so bad, baby. Don’t know how I’m gonna get through the day.

If you weren’t so horny, you might be embarrassed at the way you’re zooming in to study his picture. God, he looks so hard… if he were here, he’d be acting so desperate already… pressing into you, whispering against your ear how much he wants you, hands roaming your ass, tongue running along your ear, employing all the tricks he knows make you weak. Silently vowing to make him that needy tonight, you sink the vibe into yourself, surprised at how loudly you gasp. No, this isn’t going to take long at all. * * *

Luke finally pulls into the studio parking lot, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees that despite his detour and your distraction, he’s still the first to arrive. He reaches into the backseat to grab his Airpods out of his backpack, figuring while he waits he can listen to the most recent mix of the song and make notes on what changes are needed. He’s searching through his files for the right version when he’s startled by the vibration of another message.

He takes a deep breath, cock already stirring in anticipation for what you might say - or show - next. He selects your conversation and is momentarily puzzled when no pictures or texts are added to the thread; he glances up at the top of the screen to make sure he has full service and even closes and reopens the chat before he realizes you’ve sent a voice message. Equal parts curious and confused, he adjusts his earbuds and hits play.

There’s nothing but quiet shuffling at first, enough that Luke begins to wonder if you recorded and sent this message by mistake. He’s about to turn the volume up to make sure he’s not missing anything when he hears an all too familiar sigh and he grips the steering wheel, lightheaded from how fast the sound travels to his cock.

“Luuuuke… babe,” you coo, unmistakably slick noises in the background giving away why you sound so breathy. “That picture you sent… fuck… I can’t stop thinking about you getting so hard just from thinking about me wanting you… are you still that hard, baby? Did you have to drive all the way there with your cock straining against your pants like that? Fuck, Lu, wish I was there, I’d be leaning into your lap so fuckin’ fast… how have I never sucked you off in that car? We’ve gotta do something about that, babe, you’re so fucking sexy when you drive, it always makes me want you.”

By the time you take a breath, Luke’s heart is pounding so loud in his ears, he’s afraid you’re going to get drowned out if he doesn’t pause and take a second to calm down. He exhales loudly and leans back, shell-shocked, head feeling like it might float away if he dares to lift it from the seat’s headrest.

His mind races to process everything he’s feeling. He’s the dumbest man on the planet, how could he have ever left you this morning, he had no choice but to leave you this morning, but how could he have ever left you this morning? He knows you understand that he’d much rather be there with you, so why are you torturing him like this? He loves you for torturing him like this, he hopes you never stop torturing him like this, he’s ready and willing to die or at the very least cum in his pants from listening to you taunt him like this.

Having accepted his fate, he presses play, closing his eyes so he can properly visualize everything he’s hearing.

“God… want you so bad, babe… was so close when you had to stop… I love when you eat my pussy, I almost came right when you first started… should’ve cum for you while I had the chance, I just didn’t want it to be over so quick,” you ramble. “Didn’t want this to be over too soon either, ‘s why I haven’t turned my toy on yet. Was gonna tease myself more but I had to put it in as soon as I saw that picture… oh, Lu, I wish this was you filling me so bad.”

Luke says a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god blessed him with such a vivid imagination, he can perfectly picture you spread out on the bed, chest heaving as your hand moves between your legs, brow furrowed as you fight yourself to keep yourself from going too fast. He squeezes his eyes shut even harder, almost as if he concentrates enough, he can will himself into the room with you.

“Wanted to be naked with you all day… so many things I wanted to do with you… to you… been thinking about it all week… been wet for it since you woke me up this morning… kissing my neck, pressing your cock against my ass...”

There’s silence for a beat and then a distinct mechanical whir starts up. You resume speaking but your voice is notably affected - a little more rushed, a little more whiny - and Luke can’t help but press his palm to his crotch, groaning with relief at the brief pressure.

“...Feels too fuckin’ good, babe, I’m already close… all that’s missing is you telling me how good I feel around your cock… how good I look with your hand squeezing my throat… how good I sound begging you to cum all over -- ”

The sharp sound of someone knocking on the car window startles Luke out of his lustful trance. His eyes shoot open, he sits up so fast he bangs his knee on the steering wheel and for some reason, his panicked mind tells him it’s necessary to yank the Airpods out of his ears and throw them to the side as if they were on fire.

It takes another couple of seconds for him to realize he should see who wanted his attention and he turns to see Ashton doubled over, laughing so hard there’s no sound coming from him. Luke first rolls his eyes and then rolls down the window before commenting plainly, “You scared me.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did! What are you doing sitting with your eyes closed like that? Napping?” Ash asks, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Anybody could’ve snuck up on you, smashed a window, grabbed your laptop off the backseat. Or that box of donuts you were so excited about.” He peers around Luke, looking for the prized pastries.

“Right, the famed donut snatchers of the San Fernando Valley,” Luke quips, shifting in his seat, hoping the snacks are the only thing Ash is able to ogle from his vantage point. He grabs the pink box, passing it to him through the window. “Here, you go ahead and set up in there, I’ll be just a minute.”

Ashton looks at him suspiciously and Luke impresses himself with how cooly he explains, “You know how many Airpods I’ve lost already, now I’ve gotta stop and find the ones I just threw across the car since you decided to creep up on me like a psycho.”

“Fine,” Ash shrugs, peeking inside the pastry box. He turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, “If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m eating this eclair I know you were saving.”

Luke scowls but moves into action once Ashton disappears around the corner. He scans the car's cabin, giving a satisfied tongue click when he spots the wayward earbuds, one on the passenger seat, one under it.

A sucker for punishment, he fits them in his ears, scrubs to the last 30 seconds of your message and hits play before he can change his mind.

There's ambient noise - a quiet buzz and a steady rhythmic pattern that he eventually determines must be your breath. The buzz becomes louder and louder before stopping entirely; once it dawns on him that the volume increase was due to you pulling the toy from your body to shut it off, his pants are back to feeling as tight as they were before Ashton’s interruption.

“Mmm… well… guess you’ll be coming home to freshly washed sheets tonight,” you laugh breathily, sounding tired but elated. “I needed that. Still need you more, though. Love you so much, Lu, still wish more than anything you were here with me.”

Luke pouts, his heart aching almost as much as his cock. He can picture you, bottom lip swollen from pulling it between your teeth to stifle your moans, hair crazy from the way you run your fingers through it when you’re coming down, eyes slowly closing as you fight through your exhaustion for the sake of pillow talk.

“...We can make up for it tonight. Thinking about that is what’s gonna get me through my day. Maybe now you’ll be thinkin’ about it too,” you continue, satisfied smile evident in your voice. “Hope you have a good day, babe, get some good work done! Hopefully I didn’t make it too hard… well… the work, I mean.” You giggle at your unintended double entendre and with a kissy noise, the message ends.

He shakes his head, wondering if it’s too late to fake an illness so he can get home to you as soon as possible. He hits record on a voice note of his own and debates the topic out loud.

“...I mean, I guess Ash already knows I’m here - oh yeah, remind me to tell you that story - but also maybe he’d believe it came on suddenly. Had to have looked pretty pale when he saw me since every ounce of blood in my body was in my dick,” he jokes. His voice drops as he continues, “I’m still so hard for you, baby. I can’t stop hearing your noises… your breath… I swear I could feel it on me. Thinking about how good you must have looked cumming like that… how good you must have felt. Jesus… how do you do it? Every day I think it’s the most I’ve ever wanted you but then you do something else and it’s another level of wanting. Want you so fuckin’ bad, baby. I love you and I’ll see you tonight.”

Before he can think better of it, he briskly undoes his zipper, hooks a thumb in the waistband of both his pants and his boxers and takes a quick picture of the stubborn erection you've left him with.

* * *

A sly smile crosses your features when you hear the message tone in the distance as you step out of the shower; you hurry through drying off, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction. You wrap your towel around yourself and shuffle over to the counter where you left your phone.

You feel your eyebrows raise, intrigued by the message preview which reads: “Well, this should be an interesting studio session.” The chat loads and naturally, your eye is immediately drawn to the photo; you chuckle to yourself when you realize you’re instinctively licking your lips at the sight of his neglected cock tenting his pants. He was clearly rushed and at an odd angle so it’s not the best dick pic he’s ever sent, just partial shaft and a lot of his hand trying to hold his underwear out of the way, but simply knowing Luke needed you to see how much your message affected him to the point that he tried to stick his phone down his pants in the studio parking lot has you feeling flushed.

Tearing your eyes away from the picture, you realize he left you a voice message and as soon as you hear the rasp in his voice, how absolutely destroyed he sounds, you place a hand on the counter, steadying yourself. Oh, tonight is gonna be fun.

* * *

“You’re not even fuckin’ paying attention, bro,” Calum complains, gesturing at the phone that’s been glued to Luke’s hand since they sat down.

“Am so!” Luke protests, laughing at how juvenile his defense sounded. His eyes scan over the message app just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything and then he sets his phone down. “I’m just waiting on an important message.”

Michael swivels around in his computer chair. “Is it an update on whether or not you’re still the worst? Because I can go ahead and confirm that for you.”

Luke frowns as his friends laugh at his alleged inattention. “We’re gonna double track the pre and take a layer off the first half of the chorus to see if that makes a difference,” he reports, beaming at the surprised faces staring back at him. “It’s almost like I can care about two things at once you asshol-- oh shit…” His bragging is interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating on the table next to him and he reaches for it, the strings on his guitar plucking atonally as he maneuvers.

“Your important message?” Ashton asks with a knowing smile. Between the delayed response this morning, the curious parking lot exchange and Luke’s generally distracted behavior during this session, Ash feels like he has a basic idea of where his mind is.

“Just a delivery notification,” Luke answers glumly, expression turning sheepish when he sees the look on his bandmate’s face. “The coffee’s on its way though.”

“Oh, sweet!” Ash chirps, holding his hand out for Luke to pass the guitar to him.

Luke opens his notes app and sits back on the couch, ready to give the latest mix his full scrutiny. It takes half a verse for his mind to wander, remembering how much you loved this song the first time you heard him workshopping it at home. His brain reminds him of the way you curled up in his lap while you waited for him to finish piecing together the vocals and the way he eventually gave up once your mouth attached to his neck. He smiles, thinking about how he had you naked and under him within seconds of carrying you to the couch and how he was able to finish the song while you slept, warmed by a blanket and sated by an orgasm, on his studio sofa.

It’s a wonderful memory but one that has him switching over to check your chat one more time. He’s not sure if your delayed response is part of your game or if you just got distracted but he’s not too proud to double text, especially when he’s missing you this much.

* * *

Petunia barks at your phone chiming on the kitchen counter, the sound interrupting her concentrating on lapping up the water you’d just placed in front of her. You laugh and scratch behind her ears, laughing again when you see Luke’s message.

I can only assume you haven’t responded to my striking dick photography because it sent you into such a horny spiral, you’ve orgasmed yourself into a coma.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you respond.

Yes, cum coma. Definitely it. Not like I was taking my time, starting my day, letting you possibly get some work done so you could get home to me on time. Definitely the cum coma.

You shake your head as your message goes from “delivered” to “read” instantly and it shows him already typing a response.

Oh I’ll definitely be home on time… there’s literally nothing that could keep me from getting home on time… this song isn’t done in a couple hours, I’ll just leave the band.

You giggle as you flop onto the living room couch.

Bold of you to assume I’m interested in sleeping with an unemployed musician.

We’re called “independent artists,” ya clout chaser.

Petunia was considering climbing up to lay with you but after the howl you let out at that last message, she opts for watching you curiously from her dog bed instead.

“You can’t let your dad know I think he’s that funny, we’ll never hear the end of it,” you tell her before resuming your conversation.

How are things going? Clearly you’re fully focused and engaged with the project.

Luke snorts quietly, eyes darting around the room to check that the rest of the guys are still preoccupied: Ashton and Michael animatedly debating the volume of a particular synth while Calum stoically listens in, expression indicating he’s either weighing their arguments carefully or not paying attention at all.

Was going great until we listened back and now I can’t stop thinking about you naked on my studio couch.

Luke smiles at how quickly your typing bubbles come up, pleased to know you remember that day as vividly as he does.

Ohhhh… THAT song.

Every time I hear that chorus melody, I think about trying to overlay those vocals while also trying to keep your hands out of my pants.

You were being super sexy with your glasses and your crazy hair and your musical genius… was that not all just a ploy to get me to touch your dick? My bad.

Part of you wants to feel silly for smiling so much your cheeks hurt but it’s never mattered if you’re just trading texts, speaking over the phone or if he’s sitting right next to you - the two of you have always had this easy rapport - loving, teasing, comforting and titillating all at once. It serves you well at home and it’s especially beneficial during times of separation, whether it be for a few hours like today or for weeks when he’s on tour.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you smirk as you read the screen.

Please, we both know I don’t have to work nearly that hard, you were on me the second you came in and saw I didn’t have a guitar on my lap.

You feel your cheeks heating as you type.

You know what I remember? You working with me in your lap, tracing the tattoo on your thigh… feeling you get harder and harder against my hip… the way your cock would jump whenever I’d graze your skin with my nails…

Luke shifts a throw pillow onto his lap, pants getting tighter for what seems like the millionth time today. He really has no one but himself to blame - not just for leaving but for instigating this latest sexting adventure. He just couldn’t help himself, once he gets to thinking about you like this… he just needs you.

You always love playing with that tatt… I love it too… love it even more when you tease it with your tongue.

Your heart speeds up both from the message and from how surprisingly loud your slow but forceful exhale sounds sitting alone in Luke’s living room. It takes a moment for you to decide how to play things but you let out a self-satisfied hum when you finally start constructing your reply.

Yeah… you love the teasing, don’t you? My tongue teasing your body, my words teasing your mind… I’ll bet you love that you’ve been hard all day and haven’t been able to do a thing about it. Love feeling your cock up against your zipper, love feeling the precum trickle onto your boxers, love wondering if anyone has caught onto what you’re up to.

The studio suddenly feels irredeemably warm as Luke reads your message. He casually presses down onto his lap pillow, strategically alleviating some of the pressure between his legs. He has to admit your read on him was pretty spot on, now he just has to decide how far to take things, especially considering that the guys are just about ready and he’ll be expected to contribute soon.

Can’t help it, baby… want you so bad sometimes I want to make it last… even the buildup is worth getting off on with you.

He leans back, mentally congratulating himself on his response when he feels his eyes widen and his cock throb at your reply.

I’ll be sure to remind you of that when you’re begging me to let you cum tonight.

* * *

Luke goes radio silent for the next several hours until you finally get that long awaited “On my way,” accompanied by a potpourri of excited emojis, just to make sure his enthusiasm comes across.

You’re excited too, grinning to yourself as you fly through the house to make sure you’ve taken care of everything for his impending arrival. You already took Petunia out and refilled her bowl, already charged the toys, and as promised, already washed and changed the sheets. You pull your overnight bag onto the bed, looking over the lingerie you brought, undecided on if you should surprise him with a sexy greeting at the door. You eventually land on “sexy underwear but make him work for it,” grabbing the pink band t-shirt he’s been wearing lately to slip on over the set you chose.

As your final task, you set two cold water bottles on each nightstand, giving a little exasperated huff as you pull out your phone to check the traffic again; it feels like he texted you forever ago but you know you’re probably just impatient. You’re pondering which of his bandmates was most likely to stop him on his way out, when you hear the garage opening and you clap your hands together gleefully, springing up to fix your hair in the vanity mirror.

Luke’s calling your name as soon as he opens the front door; you originally planned on playing it cool, letting him come to you, but you can’t deny how thrilled you are that he’s finally home and you race down to him.

The two of you meet up at the foot of the stairs, huge smiles decorating your faces. You take advantage of being on the step above him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in the stubble you’ve missed feeling all day. He wraps his arms around you with a chuckle, squeezing you tight, letting you be the one to pull away first. You give him a few quick pecks before you notice the sound of crinkling cellophane coming from him and you pull back curiously to see what the source is.

“These are for you,” Luke sing-songs, presenting you with a brightly colored bouquet of assorted flowers. You pout, touched by the gesture and before he gets a chance to elaborate, you pull him down to your lips to show your appreciation.

He murmurs against you, tangling a hand in your hair, leading you into a slow, sensual kiss. You moan as his tongue greets yours and again when his hand travels down to squeeze your ass under the rising hem of your t-shirt. He groans into your mouth when he feels the high cut lace of your underwear, his mind automatically scrolling through his memories of all the ravishing sets you’ve worn for him, wondering what he’ll be stunned by tonight.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs, holding you tighter, kissing you harder.

“Me too,” you sigh. “Well we know what I’ve been thinking about… what have you been thinking about?”

“For starters, this,” he replies, lifting you off the step and wrapping your legs around his waist. You giggle as he starts to climb the stairs, briefly resuming the makeout before determining he should focus on getting you both to the bedroom safely.

As you pass the hall bathroom, you tap him with your flowers. “We should probably get these in water before we get too distracted.”

He takes the bouquet from you, laying it on the dresser as he enters the bedroom. “They’ll be alright for a little longer.” He carefully sits you on the bed, looking at you hungrily. “You’re all I care about being wet right now.”

You sit up on your knees to kiss him passionately and rid him of his jacket and shirt. You run your hands over his chest, loving the tiny noises he makes as your nails run through his chest hair, tracing along his nipples. You slip your fingers in his waistband, pulling him closer by his pants.

“Been so patient, even while I had my fun with you today… always so patient with me, Lu… love that about you,” you coo, looking up at him alluringly as you palm over the outline of his hardening cock. You keep eye contact as you unfasten his pants and start pulling them down.

It’s a beautiful sight seeing Luke peer down at you, eyes already glassy, mouth already open in awe; his hair is a mess from your fingers running through it, curls hanging over his eyes as he watches you breathlessly. Your stomach drops in anticipation of the moan you know is coming when you dip your head down to mouth at him over his boxer briefs. He doesn’t disappoint, voice both loud and shaky as your lips apply gentle pressure to his cock; you find the tip and pucker your lips more, softly sucking at his shape through the fabric.

He groans your name in a bid for you to stop, wanting to pace himself. He grips your face in his hand, rings digging into your skin deliciously as he roughly pulls you back up to his mouth, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you, letting his hardness and his tongue work in tandem to let you know how much effect you have on him.

His hand travels down your throat, lingering just long enough to get your blood pumping, before he leans you back so he can grab the hem of your shirt. You help him tug it over your head and he curses under his breath as he takes in the bubblegum pink underwear you picked out. Before you started dating Luke, you never cared much for brightly colored lingerie but with him it feels right: playful and loud while still erotic and intimate, just like the two of you are in bed together.

Luke loves when you dress up for him and you love watching him appreciate all the little details, his eyes poring over the peekaboo sheerness of the lace lining, his fingers reaching out to trace along the geometric caged cutouts above the bra cups, his guitar-worn fingertips an enticing contrast to the smooth satin of the straps.

“Beautiful, baby,” he whispers reverently, leaning in to place a kiss on each of the tiny bows decorating the set: one on each strap, just below your collarbones, one in the center of your cleavage and one right under the waistband of your panties. He laughs warmly at the gasp that last location elicits from you and he chastely pecks over the front of your underwear a few times before raising back up to grin at you. “This is new, right?”

Nodding, you play with his necklace, somehow feeling both bold and shy under his attentive gaze. “I picked up a couple new things for today, actually… wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to spend all day in bed.”

“Aww, honey,” he pouts, kissing under your jaw until you giggle. “Well I love it… love you… love that you’d think to do that. Looks so good, I almost don’t want to take it off.”

You tease, “Well good, because you don’t get to yet.”

He laughs, surprised but delighted, and you scoot back on the bed; he follows suit, coming to lay with you, quickly kicking off his pants and shoes. The two of you take a moment to enjoy kissing, teasing and enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies after a long day of wanting. When you can tell he’s getting restless, making more noise against your mouth, hips grinding against you more urgently, you shift him to lay on his back.

“Missed you, Lu… wanna show you how much,” you murmur, sucking at his neck. You feel the vibrations of the contented hum he lets out as you leave a mark on his throat. You pull back to admire your work, boasting, “Mine,” as you rub over the red spot.

He strokes over your face, thumb soothing at your skin that’s looking raw from rubbing up against his beard. “Didn’t need a hickey to tell you that, honey,” he replies, looking at you lovestruck. You lean into his touch, kissing his palm before moving on to explore more of his body.

Luke sweetly fingers through your hair as you kiss over his chest, nibbling at his collarbones, massaging over his pecs, tongue flicking over his nipple. You start to show the other side the same treatment and he gives a quiet whine, hips bucking into the air.

“Patience, my love,” you chide while your hand snakes over his stomach to squeeze his still clothed bulge. “Is this where you want me, babe? Think I’d forget about this cock? Haven’t thought about anything else all day.”

He pants, breath hitching as you drag your nails over the curves and ridges pressing up against his boxers. “I’m just… so… so fucking ready for you, baby.”

“Mmm,” is the only reply you give, tugging his underwear off. A giant sigh of relief escapes him as his cock is freed, dropping onto his stomach, precum immediately dripping onto his skin. You sit between his legs, thinking out loud, “As I remember it, you were also pretty fucking ready before you left this morning, so… I think you can hang on a little longer.”

His stunned silence turns to an interested murmur as you move back up, returning your attention to his nipples. Once you’re satisfied with how puffy and perky they look, you gently push his arms up, indicating you want them above his head. Dazed but trusting, he complies, resting his hands against the headboard.

He moans loudly as you flash a warm smile at him and lilt, “Good boy,” before pressing a wet kiss to the puzzle piece inked on his left side, now exposed for you. You smooch and nibble at his skin before switching over to trace your tongue along the vertical script running down his right side. You love that his tattoos are almost always covered - sometimes it feels like you’re the only other person who knows that they’re there. And you love knowing you’re the only person who gets the privilege of touching them like this, of teasing them until he’s squirming uncontrollably.

“Babyyyyy,” he hisses as you begin to peck over his stomach, causing you to laugh against his skin. You look up at him innocently, smirking because you’re not sure if his complaint is due to the work your mouth is doing or the friction from your body leaning across his.

"What do you need, handsome?"

Luke tries to pout but can't hold back a grin as he playfully whines, "You didn't kiss the bird," looking sadly over at the ink adorning his right bicep.

"Oh, my mistake," you play along, crawling back up to where his arm is resting behind his head. You press your lips to the tip of the hummingbird's beak, following along the outline of the tattoo before filling the inside of it with smooches. "How could I forget? Such a pretty bird on a pretty guy."

Before you can move back down, he holds his wrists up to you expectantly, watching smugly as you take the hint and kiss the tattoos he has there as well. As you pull away, he silently points to his lips and you giggle with delight.

"Luke."

"What?! I missed you! Thought you missed me too," he defends dramatically, joining your laughter as you lean in closer.

You intend to kiss him softly but you're weak to his advances once he starts adding heat to it, one hand on your ass, the other dipping inside your bra to cup your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple. His hand sneaks from your ass to between your legs and he groans when he feels how wet you are.

"Oh honey, c'mere," he advises, trying to move your body up the bed. "Get on my face, let me take care of you."

Shaking your head adamantly, you wriggle out of his hold and start moving back down his body. "You first," you insist. He begins to protest but you reach back up and press a finger to his lips to quiet him. "Had all day to fantasize about playing with you, want us to both take our time and enjoy it."

He lights up hearing you mention thinking about him again. "All day, huh? Tell me what you thought about, baby."

He breathes deep as your fingers dance down his chest and stomach, followed by a sharp exhale when your touch skips over where his cock is resting, instead opting to stroke his upper thigh. You watch his face change while he decides whether or not to verbalize his disappointment; he eventually calms and you dip down to lightly peck his hip.

“Thought about how much I love your body… how beautiful it is… how responsive,” you trail off, giving his hip a teasing bite, smiling to yourself when he bucks up against you with a loud yelp. You kiss the small indent and continue down. “Thought about noises like that… you know I fucking love how vocal you are when we’re together, Lu. Makes me feel so good to know I make you feel so good.”

You nip and kiss your way down to his thigh tattoo, making sure to give it the affection it deserves, especially in light of the memory you shared earlier about how sensitive he was that day you visited his studio. He gets louder and you muffle a groan against him, knowing he’s thinking the same things you are; you lift yourself up to his lips, needing to kiss him, needing to be in that moment with him. His cock twitches between your bodies and the two of you moan in erotic harmony.

“No one else has ever made me feel like this, you know,” he tells you, gripping your hair to kiss you one more time. “Can’t remember ever wanting something - someone - this bad before. Never thought feeling you everywhere but my cock could feel so good… get me this hard. God, you’re incredible.”

Beaming, you place your forehead on his. “You’re incredible, babe. You’ve been waiting so long and you’re still letting me love on you like this? Haven’t tried to guide me anywhere, haven’t asked for anything… haven’t even tried touching yourself. You know you could’ve, right? I didn’t tell you not to,” you point out.

He shrugs, as if the option never even crossed his mind. “I know that anything you do is gonna feel a million times better than anything I could do for myself just because it’s you, so.”

“Luuuuuu,” you melt, bringing yourself to his lips again.

He laughs, “That being said…I would like to cum sooner than later.”

You snort, giving him a playful shove as you push yourself up. “Oh is that something you were interested in doing tonight? That what all the moaning and writhing is about?”

He gently knees your side as you settle back between his legs. “Bold talk from a lady who was so horny earlier, I’d barely been gone ten minutes before you had to get yourself off.”

Giggling, you pinch his inner thigh and giggle some more when he’s surprisingly into it, giving a half-moaned, half-yelled reaction. “Whatever, man, I wasn’t the one jerkin’ it in the parking lot of my job.”

“Nooooo, that’s the whole point! I didn’t jerk it, that’s why I need to cum now,” he insists, tone still lighthearted but with a slight edge to it.

He’s getting desperate and you smile, appreciating how fun he is like this. “Aww, baby, you’re so right. This poor, poor cock deserves some attention, doesn’t it?”

Luke nods pitifully and holds his breath as you move in to press a single closed mouth kiss to the tip of his cock.

“Baby.”

You look at him with wide eyes, feigning shock that he’s disappointed. “More?” You place another chaste kiss halfway down his length, followed by one right at the base. You feel his cock throb under your lips, excited even from just that small amount of contact, and you almost feel bad when you hear his exasperated sigh as he realizes your game. You look up again, teasing, “Still not enough? Such a needy cock, isn’t it? Don’t know how you survived the day, babe, must’ve been so tough not giving in. Didn’t give it even one little stroke?”

He feels you moving down and when your breath is on his thighs again, he gasps. “N-no… wanted to wait for you,” he sputters, breath uneven as your lips brush across his skin.

“Good boy,” you purr, licking your lips and giving a wet kiss to his balls. You move over a fraction, kissing again, this time letting your tongue poke through your mouth and his body jerks so hard, you’d have sworn he jumped about five feet off the bed. “You like that, handsome?”

A choked cry answers your question and you move and kiss again, sloppier, letting your tongue swirl and linger on his skin. His response is still intense, so you continue, using the same technique but traveling lower and kissing longer; his moan is sharper, breathier, and you notice his legs are opening wider for you, his ass scooting closer to your face.

Oh.

You contemplate his reaction before moving in again, placing a firm, wet kiss to the space just under his balls. The way he whines your name is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before and judging by the ache you suddenly feel between your legs, you’re confident it will play a starring role in every masturbatory experience you have from now on.

“Luke?” You sit up to get a good look at him, biting your lip to keep from audibly reacting as you take in the sight of his flushed face, his curls frizzed from sweat and his hands resting at his sides, balled up into fists in a clear effort to keep himself from tending to his cock, much redder, much shinier and much angrier than it was when you last looked at it.

“Yeah?” He answers weakly, as desperate as he’s ever been but too dazed to hide it now.

You consider your words before deciding there’s really no delicate way of putting it. “Do you… um… should I eat your ass?”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to focus. “Is that… do you want to?”

“Lu,” you soothe, stroking his thighs. “Babe, you know we always say if there’s something one of us wants to try, we’ll hear each other out. And this seems like something that’s really turning you on and I’m really interested in exploring that if you are.”

He stares at the ceiling for a beat before focusing his gaze on you. “Yeah… yes. Yes, I- I think I’d like that.”

Breathing deep, he runs his hands through his hair, obviously overwhelmed. Your instinct is to rush up to give him a calming kiss but you fight the urge, wanting to give him space and time to process whatever he’s feeling. Instead, you hug his knee, using your fingers to draw soft circles on his leg, watching as his face softens and after a moment, he looks back down at you.

“You good, babe?”

“Yeah… I just got like, nervous for a second,” he laughs.

“Well that’s okay.” You smile softly, resting your chin on his knee while you talk. “Are you sure you wanna? We don’t have to, you know I’d be more than happy to suck your dick.”

With a naughty grin, he insists, “I mean, I’d be more than happy to have my dick sucked but I do think it’d be fun to try this.”

“Promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

“Of course… and same.”

“Of course.”

Satisfied, you peck each of his knees before spreading them wide again. You dip down, pressing your chest to the bed, popping your own ass to give him a good show. You knead his ass cheeks before gently pushing them apart, pausing to take a steadying breath of your own.

“Love you,” the voice above eagerly offers.

Your head drops to the mattress and you laugh with glee. “Love you too, babe… especially love that you thought to tell me that just as I’m about to lick your ass for the first time.”

He wheezes before deadpanning, “Sounds like the best time to make that known, if you ask me.”

Shaking your head, you start nibbling at his inner thigh again; you suck and nip at his skin, moving closer and closer to unknown territory. When he feels your warm breath between his cheeks, his noises go totally quiet in anticipation of what you’ll do next.

Leaning in, you hold him tightly and lick a long stripe over his entrance; his entire body tenses and he makes the sharpest yet quietest noise you’ve ever heard from him. Just as your brain wonders if that was a good reaction or a bad reaction, he answers your question by rocking his hips up, silently asking for more.

You oblige him, flattening your tongue to cover even more territory, licking slow and wide from his hole back up to his balls and down again. This time, he’s not shy about letting you know how he feels, a few breathy “fuck”s and a shaky “oh god, baby, yes” falling from his lips. You repeat the same route, experimenting with a swirling motion on the way down and the groan it’s met with tells you it was the right decision.

“You like that, babe?” You raise up to check in with him, your question more curious than teasing. “Feeling good?”

Luke’s face is buried in his hands, surprised at how instantly he’s beside himself with want. “It feels fucking amazing,” he reports, voice muffled but clearly wrecked already.

Looking at his neglected cock, leaking profusely and a deep shade of red, you ask, “Do you want me to jerk you off while I’m ---”

He interrupts, “Jesus, fuck, baby, no!” It takes a beat for him to hear his own reaction and then he giggles at how serious it was. He explains, “I swear to fuck, I will immediately cum all over myself if either one of us touches my dick for even a second.”

“I thought you wanted to cum sooner than later,” you tease.

He props his head up to grin at you. “I like the idea of your tongue in my ass more if I’m honest.”

“The most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” you quip, getting back into position. “Also… you said in, so…”

“Oh. I mean… is that… would you?”

You lean in and playfully bite a chunk of cheek. “Honestly, Lu, if it’ll get you to keep making noises like you have been, I’ll do literally anything you want to this sexy ass.”

He laughs, low and raspy enough to give you chills. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You grab his ass, push his thighs a little higher and dive back in, your tongue flicking wetly over his hole. As you work, the increasing volume of his sighs and the frequency with which he’s bucking into the air gives you confidence and your strokes become firmer, your flutters more teasing. You return to the sensitive skin below his balls, your lips providing gentle pressure before beginning a slight suction, and the prolonged moan he gives in response has you squeezing your legs together, hoping for some pressure of your own.

Emboldened by his feedback, you move down to his rim and apply the same method: pressure followed by suction. Luke can’t stop the whimpers spilling from his lips as yours move over him, breath catching as your tongue starts lapping in time, the sloppily wet sounds permanently etching into his brain.

He wants to tell you what a good job you're doing, how unbelievable you're making him feel, but it's taking all his concentration not to grind himself back against your face, so all he can think to do is moan. He briefly considers reaching down to thread his hands in your hair and show his appreciation that way but that’d put his hands way too close to his cock and he doesn't trust himself enough not to touch it.

He groans as your grip on his thighs tightens up, trying to get a better angle; your nails dig into his skin as you do your best to keep him steady and he whines, feeling a fresh round of precum run onto his stomach. You press yourself closer, the tip of your tongue up against his opening before cautiously dipping inside. A strained shout escapes him and he claws at the sheets, pushing his ass down to meet your mouth, a tiny “sorry” lost in his throat as you work your tongue inside him and thrust. His head is spinning, he swears he’s never heard himself make the sounds he’s making and when your tongue thrusts into him again, he cries out as his cock twitches involuntarily.

All his noises are going straight to your pussy and you pull back, panting, in desperate need of a break.

“Luke,” you huff, pecking across his thighs as you lift yourself up to address him. “I’m glad you seem to be enjoying this, babe… I apparently can’t get enough either, I’m absolutely soaked.”

He lifts his head to look at you and you sit up enough for him to see the center of your panties is a much darker shade of pink than it was before. “Holy shit, baby… that’s just from working on me?” You nod, lip between your teeth, and he groans. “God, you’re a fucking dream, you know that? Looking like that, making me feel… fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it… but you’re really, really fucking good at this.”

You grin, basking in his rambled praise. “Well, I’d be lost if I didn’t have such good feedback. All your pretty sounds, the way you keep grinding against my face…”

“Sorry about that,” he chuckles, a hint of shyness in his voice.

“No, Lu, I love knowing I’m making you feel so good. It’s so hot seeing you get so…”

“Slutty?”

You laugh, squeezing his knees affectionately. “I mean, that’s really nothing new, is it?” He giggles, breath slowing as your hands start roaming his legs. Your tone turns teasing, “So slutty… so needy… and yet, still so good for me, huh? Look at that cock! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it so hard, have you? I’ll bet it’s absolutely aching, isn’t it, baby?”

“Ahhh, uh-huh,” he agrees quietly. He holds his breath as you lean over him, your hands rubbing over his stomach, so close - too close - to where his cock lays.

He gasps as you swirl your finger through some of the precum that’s pooled on his skin, the sensation causing his cock to jump up again.

You moan at the sight, loving that you’ve got him so worked up. Your finger inches closer and he whines helplessly. “You sure you don’t want me to do something about this, babe? Looks like it wouldn’t take much… what do you think? Think I’d be able to get even one stroke in?” You lightly run your nail against his stomach, right next to where his tip is and he lets out what can only be described as a sob. “Think I’d even get my hand around it before you make a mess of us both?”

You lift your hand as if you’re going to test your theory and he wails your name desperately.

“Good boy,” you coo, backing off, watching the pronounced rise and fall of his chest as he tries to regain composure. You settle back between his legs and check in. “Keep going - yes or no?”

The question has barely left your mouth before he’s rushing out, “Yes, yes, yes, baby.” He slides his hands under his thighs and lifts them up to emphasize his point. “Please.”

Groaning at his eagerness, you feel even more wetness drip onto your lace bottoms. “Let me hear you, baby,” you encourage, softly kissing his cheeks, working your way in.

You begin a pattern of kitten licks over his entrance that has him instantly moaning. You then teasingly swirl your tongue around - 1, 2, 3, times - and on the final circle you let the tip dart inside him and he lifts his legs even higher, rocking himself towards you, needing more. You duplicate the process but slower, adding in a few extra swirls just to hear his reaction - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - and your taunting is met with a series of increasingly frantic whines and a few strangled pleas of your name. When you finally flit your tongue inside, the relieved “Oh my fucking god, baby, yes, that” feels a hundred times better than the orgasm you gave yourself earlier.

As you continue, Luke feels like he’s lost control - his hips pumping against you seemingly of their own accord, his voice producing a consistent stream of sounds he doesn’t recognize, his cock springing up with interest yet again. And does he always leak this much precum? Fuck. You squeeze his ass, your hair tickling his cheeks as you wiggle, working your tongue in deeper; he notices a distinct sensation spreading through his body but he’s so overwhelmed he can’t quite place it yet.

He looks down to see your head moving in a familiar bobbing motion and he has to groan as his mind acknowledges that he’s being blessed with one of his favorite visuals not because you’re sucking him off, but eating his ass.

“So good, baby… so fucking good,” he praises dreamily.

You murmur against him in appreciation, giving his ass another squeeze and he whimpers, that confusing sensation running through him again but more insistent. You’re effectively fucking him with your tongue, digging your nails into his skin, trying to hold on as he fucks back against you, and when your own muffled moans start pouring from your throat, that same mystery sensation returns to his body with such intensity, it demands to be recognized.

Oh.

It takes up until the second that Luke starts cumming for him to realize that’s what’s happening and it’s not until he feels the first rope of cum hit his chest that he actually believes it. He tries to call your name but all that comes out is the first letter followed by a bunch of unintelligible cries, voice unfamiliar as his body shudders. His cock pulses and throbs mindlessly, spraying his release near and far, coating his entire torso all the way from his belly to his chest.

The high of this orgasm seems to have no limit, building and building even when it seems like it's beyond time to fall back down to earth. He tries to express this thought but his breath comes out in short, wrecked sobs while his arms shake as he struggles to hold his legs in the air. It’s probably the most exhilarating - and bewildering - thing he’s ever felt and when it finally crescendos, he gives an elongated groan of something resembling your name and lets his limbs drop down as he melts into the bed.

As soon as his legs hit the mattress, you’re racing over to his side. “Luke? Baby. Oh my god,” you fuss. He looks absolutely destroyed - hair disheveled, skin flushed, eyes tightly shut. His breath is steadier than it was but still labored, heaving chest covered in sweat and cum. He’s never looked more beautiful. You speak tenderly, stroking his cheek, “You did so good, Lu, oh my god, that was incredible, baby… are you okay?”

His eyes flutter open, still a bit glazed. He takes a moment before he answers. “Yeah… I… just… whoa.”

“Yeah, definitely whoa,” you laugh quietly, pushing the curls off his forehead. “I’ve never… did you know you could -- “

He shakes his head. “Nope. Never happened before, not even close.” He chuckles in disbelief. “I didn’t even know it was happening until it was happening.”

You giggle with him. “I felt your body like, pulse and before I even had time to think about it, you were moaning and… oh my god, babe…” You move closer to snuggle him but he holds his hands out to stop you.

“Messy,” he laughs sheepishly, gesturing at his sticky skin.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, you promise, “One sec,” and hop off the bed, hurrying to the en suite. Luke closes his eyes, the sound of the running faucet serving as the perfect white noise as he lays there, content but exhausted. Several moments later, he feels the bed dip, followed by the pleasant sensation of a warm washcloth moving across his chest.

“Thank you, honey,” he says quietly, reaching out to squeeze your hip. He traces the waistband of your panties admiringly. “Couldn’t let these gorgeous pieces get stained… not yet, anyway.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you snort. “Such a thoughtful lover,” you joke, softly flicking him with the washcloth before tossing it aside.

“Well actually, speaking of which,” he starts, hand moving to rub over the now transparent from arousal patch of your underwear. “What should we do about this?”

“I was actually gonna see if you wanted a snack,” you shrug, patting his now clean skin dry with a new towel. He narrows his eyes skeptically and you explain simply as you pass him his water bottle. “I came this morning.”

“Oh, trust me, I remember,” he smirks, taking the bottle but grabbing your arm to pull you close. He caresses your cheek, continuing, “But you seemed happy - eager even - to have another so I wanna check that you’re not passing it up just because you made me cum my brains out and think now you gotta take care of me.”

You take a thoughtful sip from your water. “I guess I got a little worked up watching you… and talking to you over the course of the day… and looking at the pictures of your dick that you sent me,” you shrug again, a coy smile creeping at the corners of your lips. “I just… that was so intense, babe, are you sure you don’t need anything?”

He opens his arms and you don’t hesitate to accept the invitation, curling up on him, letting him wrap himself around you. “Honestly all I need is to feel my girl laying in my arms… heart racing, hips bucking…” He kisses sweetly over your face, ghosting over your lips before darting down to suck under your jaw instead. He runs his hand over the mark he leaves, tracing his thumb over your mouth. “Little gasps, sweet moans spilling out from these beautiful lips… if that’s something you think you might be interested in.”

Your eyes meet his as you suck his thumb between your lips, biting gently. “Well… if it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” you joke, sighing as you’re pulled into a passionate kiss.

His fingers toy with the caged straps of your bra and he whispers, “Wanna be naked with me?” You eagerly nod, hissing quietly as he unfastens you; you help him pull the material off and then quickly shimmy out of your bottoms. You shiver under his appreciative gaze as he murmurs, “That’s my good girl,” before capturing your lips again.

The makeout is slow and familiar, a lovely juxtaposition to the frenzied experimentation you’re both still coming down from. His hand makes its way down your body, slipping between your legs and you both groan as he starts stroking through your wet folds. You almost instantly start rocking your hips into his touch - you’ve been waiting to feel his hands on you all day and you’ve been so turned on for so long and your body is so grateful to finally have some relief.

He laughs raspily, “Baby… after all that buildup, don’t you think you deserve more than humping my hand?” You whine as he pulls away and whine again when you see him reaching over into “the fun drawer.” He grabs the first toy he touches and it happens to be the one you used this morning. He clicks the button and it whirs to life, thrusting back and forth enthusiastically, much to his delight. “Look at this bad boy! I’ve always wanted to watch you with this one.”

“Well pay attention because it’s not gonna last long,” you laugh.

After some discussion, he props some pillows up against the headboard and sits back with his legs open for you to lay between. You relax into him, immediately angling your head for a kiss while Luke’s first order of business is getting his hands on your breasts. You tease each other a bit - your teeth tugging his lip, his ringed fingers twirling your nipples - and then he’s nudging you to pick up the vibrator.

“Been thinking about this since I saw that picture,” he admits, watching carefully as you drag the toy down your body.

You run the tip up and down your pussy, getting it nice and wet before lightly circling your clit. “I always wait until the last minute to turn it on… it feels too good,” you explain, teasing your opening and then pulling it away, your hips tilting up in hopes of reconnecting with the toy. “Even just putting it in is too much sometimes because I know how good it’s about to make me feel.” You torment yourself a few more times and then finally let it slip in, sighing loudly as it glides inside you.

“Fuck,” Luke breathes, rubbing your legs soothingly as he stares, slack-jawed.

One hand fits the toy inside you while your other interlaces your fingers with his. “Oh this is gonna be so quick,” you laugh, leaning back to kiss his neck. “You ready?”

"I don't know," he giggles, squeezing your thigh. "Ready to see you come apart, baby."

You keep your gaze trained on his face, your hand using sense memory to locate the power button and turn it on. A deep groan escapes your throat instantly as the shaft of the toy begins vibrating and pumping inside you. You quickly click it down to a low setting and reach to adjust the arm meant to stimulate your clit, your eyes rolling back the moment it lands on the right spot.

"Feels good?" He asks quietly, visibly gulping as you nod and lick your lips. He runs his hands up from your legs, caressing over your hips, your stomach and finally your tits again, where his touch lingers. "As good as this morning?"

Bringing him into a kiss, you sigh, "Better… you're here now." You roll your hips with the slow rhythm of the vibrator, not yet ready to crank it up to your usual setting and have this end. "Don't gotta imagine your hands on my body, your voice in my ear, your breath on me… you're here."

"So glad I'm here, honey," he reassures, kissing your face. You press a button to change the pattern of the vibrations and gasp into his mouth. He groans, wanting to help you along, "Did you pretend it was me fucking you? My cock inside you?"

You confirm breathily, "Oh, Lu, yes… Pretended you were still in bed with me… like the phone never rang… like we just woke up and you were on my neck, telling me how much you wanted me… pretended we were back in that moment and I told you to slip it in like I wished I would’ve… oh god, Lu, c’mere.” You reach for his hand, panting.

The sudden shift of intensity in your tone has Luke breathing as heavy as you, rushing to do as requested. You guide his hand around the bottom of the toy’s shaft, right where it’s peeking out of your body; you watch his jaw drop as you cycle through the settings, landing on the rhythm and speed that always leaves you seeing stars.

He looks at you wide-eyed. “No way,” he laughs, feeling the strong buzz and rapid thrusts. “Baby, this is gonna launch you into space.”

“Counting on it,” you giggle, turning it back down while you move his hand to the base of the toy and adjust his hold so it’s at the angle you need. As soon as he’s in position, you turn the power back up and let out a pronounced moan.

“That’s it, lemme hear those beautiful sounds, honey,” he encourages, his free hand gripping your breast tight, hoping to both get you off and steady you.

The whines only get louder as your back arches into his touch and your hips stutter, your body too stimulated to follow along with the vibe's movements. It drives into you over and over at that delicious angle and you bury your face into Luke's neck, muffling a cry as you feel your climax start to light up every single cell in your body.

The pleasure rushes through you, the chemicals flood your system and most importantly, your boyfriend’s arms tighten around you. The orgasm is great - fantastic even - but feeling this good while being this close to him is what makes all the waiting, all the teasing, all the frustration of the day worth it.

“Oh, that’s it, baby… what a good girl… look so unbelievable when you cum for me,” he encourages as you huff and shake in his embrace. A few seconds later, your body settles and your breathing quiets but a small whimper remains and he knows that means you’re done with the vibrator. He shuts it off and carefully pulls it out, soothing in a soft voice, “I know, baby, that was so much… it’s alright, I’ve got you.”

He gently eases you onto your pillow, freeing up his arm to grab the tissue box off the nightstand. You pout and make grabby hands at him as he stops to wipe down your toy; he grins, pecking your lips before starting to clean you up as well. Neither of you have much to say, content with simply trading soft smiles and softer touches.

Luke lays his head on your chest, gazing up lovingly at you, and you tangle your fingers in his curls, loving the way his eyelashes flutter as you comb through his hair. You take the moment in until something occurs to you. “Hey, babe, I don’t think I ever actually thanked you for those flowers? They’re gorgeous… that was really sweet of you.”

“Aww, honey, I’m glad you liked them!” He beams proudly. His expression briefly falters but he shakes it off and continues, “I wanted to kind of acknowledge and apologize for this morning… I promised this would be our day and I should’ve taken a minute to find a compromise instead of just taking off like it was nothing.”

“Luuuuuke,” you whine, stroking his cheek softly. “I know I complained at first but you know I understand the band comes first - it’s your job and it’s important. You’ve got a lot of people counting on you.”

He shrugs. “I had you counting on me and you’re someone I don’t ever wanna disappoint. I should’ve asked if you wanted to come have lunch or something. I don’t know where my head was at.”

“Well, babe, I appreciate the apology but I still had a pretty fun day,” you reassure him, smirk curling the edges of your mouth.

“Is that so? I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes, pushing up to kiss you. “Glad to hear you had a good day, though… spent most of mine worrying I’d ruined it.”

You giggle, “Babe, I’m pretty sure the only thing that got well and truly ruined today was you.”

He laughs with you, a faint blush spreading over his skin. “So best case scenario then,” he cracks, pressing another kiss on your lips.

He sits up, sipping his water, passing yours over when you prop yourself up next to him. You suddenly remember to ask, “Hey, how was the studio, by the way? How’d our song turn out?”

Luke grins. “Oh, is it our song?”

With a naughty smile, you explain. “I don’t know about you but I doubt I’ll be able to think about anything besides tonight when I hear it.”

“Well… tonight and the night I wrote it.”

“See.”

“You’re right, it’s definitely our song,” he giggles, squeezing your knee. “I really like what it’s turning into, I think it’s almost where it needs to be.”

Your brow scrunches, confused. “Almost? Wasn’t it due today?”

“Oh!” He laughs, shaking his head. “The deadline actually got extended.”

“What?!”

“Mmm hmm, some kind of server maintenance - the label apparently can’t handle any incoming files for a day or two. So we all decided we should use that time and really get it right.”

You’re quiet for a moment before offering a simple, “Interesting.”

Luke can tell you’re calculating if this will affect your time together again and he slinks his arm around you, leaning your head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t need nearly as much work as it did today though, so hopefully it won’t take up too much of the day.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

With a smile, he adds, “But just in case, I’m thinking my phone’s gonna accidentally die overnight, what about yours?”

——————————————— Thank you for reading!

#luke hemmings smut #luke smut #luke hemmings fic #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #Nothing But My Feelings #it's the way this is basically twice the length of my last Ash fic 😂😭#and friends this is the EDIT #first draft was 14k+#idk what my problem is #anyways yay I did it! A Luke fic like I kept promising last year!#And a new fic in general! Wasn't sure if I'd get there tbh so I'm pretty proud #Hoping to make this more of A Thing this year so cross your fingers for my physical and mental health lol #remember when I said this fic was kind of a lot? agree or disagree lol

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 2 years

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Being Corlys’ Bastard Daughter in a Secret Relationship with Rhaenyra Would Include...

I started writing this weeks ago and recently finished. Kinda went ham on it, sorry if it got too long! I’m also working on fics about this concept so stay tuned. Also spoilers for House of The Dragon up to episode 7, Driftmark. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

• You were Laenor and Laena’s half sister, since you were Corlys’ bastard daughter but you were legitimized in his eyes once you came into adulthood.

• Rhaenys accepted you with open arms, seeing you as a daughter just as she saw Laena and Laenor as her children respectfully.

• You didn’t care much for lady-like duties, choosing to chase behind Laenor and the other knights of your house to train in sword and shield. Corlys had his issues with it of course, but as long as you did what you could to keep up appearances, he was fine. Rhaenys was there to teach you all about being a lady, while sharing much of the fierceness a Targaryen could hold.

• Like Laenor, you had different tastes to what was expected of you.

• You much preferred the company of the ladies of court as your father frequented Kings Landing as King Viserys’s master of ships. Being around other ladies of court wasn’t frown upon much, you were safe from rumors, unlike your brother Laenor, it was easy to navigate yourself through your specific tastes since close bonds between women of the court were common.

• It remained common as you could keep them, a few lingering smiles here and a few compliments there, until you met the crowned Princess herself, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

• She was betrothed to your brother Laenor but he didn’t see her like that, yet you did. The Princess noticed you, and complimented you accordingly:

“You’re just as pretty as your brother, Lady Y/N,” Rhaenyra said before kissing your hand.

• Laenor may have been her betrothed, but Rhaenyra spent much time with you: listening of your tales amongst the sea with your father while Rhaenyra told you stories of dragons, even mentioning that she’d like to take you on the back of Syrax if you’d like to.

• During Laenor and the Princess’s wedding, the both of you kept running into each other on the dance floor. Her eyes tracing your body as she moved from man to man, attention on the way the music took you.

• Kept a close eye on you until the violence began, going straight towards you, keeping you safe through all of chaos.

“I need to find my brother!” you said.

Rhaenyra shook her head, hands still holding yours.

“I must protect you for him, my lady.”

• You knew you had feelings for the Princess after she married Laenor. The ten years away from her while she was in Kings Landing and you on Driftmark made you crave for her presence again. So you wrote to her, along with Laenor and Laena, respectively as she was in Essos.

• Rhaenyra oft wrote back, telling of her children and how much she missed you. She detailed your beauty in her letters, joking about how she’d rather be the wife of another Velaryon than your brother.

• You gushed at the letter once it got to you, thinking over a fortnight of what to say back to the Princess. It was treason and down right wrong to think of Rhaenyra in a nonplatonic way yet the Princess’s words drew you with so much tenderness inside.

• Rhaenyra’s letters kept arriving, wondering when you’d get back to her: both physically and by letter. You didn’t mean to leave her in the dark, but after hearing about her relations with Harwin and how she adored him saddened you. You wished to be the sole love she adored.

• You didn’t write her back until Laena’s death, pouring out everything you thought for her and the hate you felt for Laena going off with Daemon to Pentos, for making Rhaenys a wreck and making your father quiet, so much so that he didn’t talk much until the funeral.

• You and Laena weren’t the closest, yet she always made an effort to understand you the most, boasting that the blood of old Valyria was still strong in you, whether you weren’t full Velaryon or not. She never looked down or joked about your preferences, encouraging it along with Laenor.

• Laenor took Laena’s death the hardest though. You tried sticking by his side during the funeral, trying not to crack under your uncle Vaemond’s words of Velaryon blood, glancing at Rhaenyra’s own boys and you. It made it hard for you to handle your grief when anger bubbled inside, forcing you to clutch your hands tightly that red nail marks carved at your palms.

• Rhaenyra noticed however, prompting her youngest son there, Lucerys to comfort you in some way. The boy reluctantly looked to his mother, than to you before bounding over (thanks to a stern, yet easygoing nod from Rhaenyra) and taking one of your clasped hands into his tiny one.

• Your wall of rage tumbled just a bit, breaking your intense focus to see your nephew staring with wide eyes, steady and ready to bolt back to his mother and father if things grew awry. All you wanted was some one there who understood your pain, your rage, your heartbreak. You knew of the rumors, you may have been away from court but the gossip always ran throughout the seven kingdoms. The words bastard and Strong thrown around carelessly of Rhaenyra’s boys so much so that you felt terrible for them or even considering the truth that they weren’t Laenor’s boys.

•Whether they truly had the “saltiest and thickest Velaryon blood” didn’t matter, even though you were a Velaryon in Corlys’ eyes, yet in other members of the house’s eyes you were still the Sea Snake’s bastard daughter. A title you could never escape from. You didn’t know what Lucerys went though but you held his hand anyway, pulling him close for a hug. You may not know what the boy went through but it had to be something similar to your own strive.

•The boy hesitated but returned it immediately, clutching onto you for the rest of your uncle’s speech. You felt loved, you may have only met your nephew but you could tell Rhaenyra and Laenor loved and raised him decently so far.

“I-Is aunt Y/N all right?” Jacaerys asked as he approached you and Luke, holding his mother and father’s hands.

Luke glanced up at you expectantly, hugging into your side, as if asking his brother’s question a second time.

“Y-Yeah,” you said. Your voice rough but you tried your best in sounding all right. “T-Thank you for worrying about me, boys.”

Rhaenyra met your eye as you ruffled the boys’ hair, totally not buying your words at all.

“Laenor, take the boys to bed, please?” Rhaenyra said. She patted your brother’s arm before continuing. “I’ll be along shortly.”

Laenor seemed just as worn out as you, doing what his wife told was simple yet he still was rather sluggish in taking Jace and Luke’s hands, leaving you and Rhaenyra alone.

• Rhaenyra drew closer and like her son, she was cautious of touching you.

“Alicent, and her father have been watching me,” she said as she glanced past and beyond you discreetly. “Walk with me to the beach?”

“Have I some how entered your circle of rumors, Princess?” you said.

Rhaenyra smiled weakly. “Something like that, my lady.”

• Once you walked enough of the beach and nightfall began to cover you both thanks to the decline of the sun, Rheanyra took you into her arms, wrapping you close by the waist.

• Her touch. Finally feeling her skin, her warmth for over ten years made the emotions bubble up in you yet again as tears flowed from you.

“I’m here,” Rhaenyra whispered. She pressed a hand to the back of your head. “I-I’m so sorry, Y/N”

You held onto her, crying into her chest, babbling about everything you held against you for the past ten years.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed. “With Laenor being your king consort and Laena dead, I possibly couldn’t be Lady of Driftmark or Lady of the Tides as a--”

Rhaenyra took your face before you could even say the word bastard. Through your tear stained eyes you saw her own crestfallen expression, water clinging to her own eyes.

“You are a true Velaryon,” Rhaenyra declared. “It may not be official but I promise as queen you will be. It will be my first act.”

• The Princess then kissed you, hard, fierce and fiery as kissing a Targaryen should be. You shivered in her arms thanks to the brisk air Driftmark held, especially close to the sea as night continued to crawl through the final peaks of sun.

• Rhaenyra’s hands traveled over your waist, holding you as if you’d sail away at any moment, ship off for another ten years.

“Come with me, us to Dragonstone,” Rhaenyra said. Desperation written on her face as she panted from your previous make out. “Be my lady in waiting, my sworn sword, I don’t care I-I just need you with me!”

The words “sworn sword” hit you in a sour way.

“Like your former? He’s replaceable? W-Would I be?” you said.

Rhaenyra’s grip on your sides grew rough; you gasped at the slight pinch in pain as she pulled you to be inches from her lips again.

“I loved Harwin, he can never be replaced,” she said, solidifying your worries. “But he isn’t you. A-And what I feel for you isn’t quite the same as I had with him.”

You shook your head, speaking the truth of the rumors.

“You’d have children with me?” you said. “I-If we could?”

“I would and more, you’d be my Queen consort instead of your brother,” the Princess responded cheekily.

• The both of you shared more kisses, along with touches that lingered. Rhaenyra wanted to go further, you both did but the lost of loved ones sought you both against it for now.

• When you both found Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena bloodied from their scuffle with Aemond, you immediately formed a shield around all your nieces and nephews with Corlys, Rhaenys and Rhaenyra.

• Luke clung to you instantly as Alicent tried attacking the boy, almost cutting you if Rhaenyra didn’t stop the mad Queen first.

• When Alicent cut Rhaenyra, you were at the Princess’s side but not before Luke scurried to her left, you to her right. You held her as she bled, immediately calling for a maester for not only Rhaenyra’s wounds but for that of your nephews and nieces as well.

• You stayed by her side as the maesters stitched her arm. Luke clung to you again, asking his mother if she was all right while Jace held your other hand. Rhaenyra reassured him with a kiss on the forehead before doing the same to Jace.

“You boys have cause a lot of trouble tonight. Now go off to bed, for real this time,” Rhaenyra said.

Her boys did what they were told but not before hugging Rhaenyra then you as well.

• Rhaenyra began to notice how much her boys got attached to you, especially Luke and deemed you as a second mother to them after your permanent stay on Dragonstone, and having them squire under you and Laenor.

• You became a quasi mentor to your nephew Luke, since he’d inherit Driftmark as Lord of the Tides. Of course he had trouble getting seasick but you still reassured him that he’d make a fine Lord of the Tides and helped him during short sea trips from Dragonstone to Kingslanding to help him adjust to life on the sea.

• Rhaenyra would always fly over with Syrax to ensure that the both of you arrived and departed safely.

• She always welcomed you with a tight embrace, checking over you as soon as she was done ensuring Luke was in one piece.

• Rhaenyra always found time to be alone with you, always thanking you for being amazing with her boys and always made sure you felt all right here with this family she cultivated on Dragonstone.

“I hope you feel a part of this family as much as I believe you are,” Rhaenyra said while she held your hand. She cuddled next to you while she played with the braids of your silver hair. “Have ever I told you how beautiful your hair is?”

You grew sheepish at her words, especially at the mention of being her family, finally a part of her life and finally able to be with her.

“You really see me as your family?” you said as you tucked yourself against her chest. “What does that make me? Secret lover to the heir apparent?”

Rhaenyra shook her head and gave you a deep kiss.

“You will be my only sole lover, Y/N Velaryon, a true Lady of Driftmark right next to the Queen of the seven kingdoms.”

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #princess rhaenyra #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen imagine #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house targaryen #house velaryon #laenor velaryon #laena valeryon #corlys valeryon #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #velaryon reader #harwin strong #hotd imagines #house of the dragon imagines

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signed-sapphire · 6 months

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Okayyyy rewatched Wish

Here are my notes

Valentino wasn’t as annoying as people say. Sure, he did nothing for the plot and could’ve been removed entirely, but he didn’t make near as many butt jokes as people say he did

The lead-ins for all the songs were great. Certain media (Hazbin, for example) just jump into the songs

Magnifico??? Didn’t touch the pages??? So why would he be corrupted? Why does Amaya know of obsidian oil? Don’t you just skim the pages to release the evil?

Dahlia was amazing

“At the very least break the hold it has on him” Amaya? Didn’t you found this kingdom with thin? Wouldn’t you know?

Also Amaya was very sidelined. Where’s her backstory?

Asha’s magic wand mishaps were… corny at best

Why did they make Dario high all the time? He’s not stupid. I feel like they made him try to be like Fred from Big Hero 6 but failed

“Nine zillyboo, twenty alphabet!” Val, buddy. No.

DAHLIA. MATE. TRUE LOVE’S KISS CAN BRUNG HIM BACK I swear, it feels like the directors were switched

The spider-carriage thing. I feel like that could’ve been a Disney reference instead

Gabo was still my favorite out of the teens. Bazeema was sweet too

Also. Halzeema moments were actually in canon.

Sabino did not act 100 at all.

Crushing wishes did nothing to people except make them sad for .2 seconds

Asha’s drawing, her magic wand, none of that was important to the actual plot

I feel like the horses could’ve been Disney references too

Why did the roof open? That was never explained

Mag’s hair needed to be messier. Evil Magnifico? Crazy hair

How did he hear them from all the way down there

Mag’s really out there beating up a minor

The curse rope green things were not scary at all

Was Simon just in the forest the entire time?

The Magnifico getting sucked inside his staff… I feel that could’ve been a play to Dr. Facilier somehow

The stars raining down were beautiful

Was Star’s nose tap a reference to something?

The people’s talking… idk how I felt about that

WE 👏 SHOULD’VE 👏 SEEN 👏 SAKINA’S 👏 WISH

Another half-assed apology. First Namaari, now you. At least Simon’s was an actual apology. Wait. More of it goes on.

Ok his apology isn’t too bad

How did the staff get all the way down there?

Changed my opinion, Amaya deserved to tell Mag off

Did Mag’s curse break once he was in the mirror? Why did he act sad all of a sudden?

I’ve heard Asha’s movements weren’t finalized until later, but her movements seem pretty fluent

Clumsy and energetic, sure, but besides from the mouth drooping part, she wasn’t that quirky

Which. Could be a bad thing. She didn’t really have much of a personality

I like the Peter Pan building a flying machine idea

Zootopia ref

DARIO. SHUT UP

Why does everyone suddenly understand Star

But off-topic they were so cute

“It” I guess

Why refer to Star as an it

“They” was too woke for the Disney execs? Why, you had a one-second offhand comment about a water cousin who’s nonbinary!

That Cinderella-reference thing… wasn’t slow enough to be a dress transformation. So I’m fine with her not having a different dress. I mean obviously I would’ve loved it but idk

SHOW DON’T TELL, DISNEY

STOP TELLING

“I understand you well enough” I DON’T! HOW ARE THEY TELLING YOU

Some of Valentino’s jokes were funny. Sue me

I liked the Tinkerbell and Mikey Mouse reference at the end

The storybook was a nice callback

The credits should’ve been moving. Also CHOOSE BAYMAX TO REPRESENT BIG HERO 6. WHY HAVE VILLAINS LIKE MALEFICENT THERE

Overall. Not as bad as people are making it out to be. But definitely not worthy to be Disney’s 100

I’d say… 7/10. The backgrounds did look watercolor, but the shading seemed off in places. Especially Sakina. There was major improvement to be done, but with the hell the execs were giving (and the proven creativity of the concept art) I feel this movie is getting too much hate. Critiques and criticism are fine. But don’t blame the writers for getting rid of Starboy. Yes, it could’ve been better. But it’s Disney. And the creators tried their best to pour their love into a movie that they didn’t have a full say in.

#disney wish #wish 2023 #asha #star wish #wish movie #wish disney #wish review

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paddymoonstruck · 7 months

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DEAR READER | C.L 16 (FOUR)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc X Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated French, degrading headline, people who don’t mind their own business

Note: There’s a reason I’m dragging the fuck out of this story. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise !!!!

❝Dear reader,

If it feels like a trap, you’re

already in one ❞

THE BRILLIANT ILLUMINATED ELEVATOR cradled through the rapidly infectious tension in Natalia’s bloodstream. The gap between her and the equally as anxious Monegasque caused the ongoing brawl in their heads to amplify. She glanced down at the carpeted flooring, casually shifting her gaze to the shuffling feet of her company.

She let her thoughts wonder somewhere else, opting to think about the disastrous path they had to conquer in order to acquire the tranquility they have at the moment. Although, her trembling hands and the intensive battering of her chest generated the thought that perhaps road raging in Charles’ Ferrari to avoid the prying eyes of the general public provided a greater deal of enjoyment than this.

“I was thinking,” Charles spoke, moistening his drought lips. “Since it’s your first time here in Netherlands, I’d like you to try authentic Dutch dishes from the restaurant the team took me to last year.”

Natalia nodded, half of her mind floating into a dreamless space. “That sound great,” She faced him, hoping to defy the rising tide of her anxiety. “I honestly didn’t know anything about Dutch culture until I did a quick research about their food.”

Charles didn’t contain his smile, finally looking at the brunette. His gaze journeyed to her luscious naturally straight chestnut locks, previously tied into a neat ponytail but was now released from the gathered style, falling graciously passed her shoulders.

He snapped back into his regular self as he reached the line of her eyes. Immediately saving himself as he followed up on her statement. “Oh? And what did you find?”

Charles despised the way she’d tuck her bottom lip in her every time she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Couldn’t she just think like a normal person?

“Apparently, there’s this food called Profferjes?” She struggled pronouncing the supposed name given to the delicacy she was referring to.

Charles’ face brightened in amusement at her confused appearance but he nevertheless, nodded, having an idea of what she was talking about.

“The mini pancakes?”

Rhapsody laved across her once perplexed expression, pointing a finger at his direction before confirming his guess.

“Yes! That one— but I think they only serve them in the morning,” She sighed, eyes lingering at Charles. A sudden concept bubbled in her mind, showing in her face as a small simper.

The judgement was also beginning to bloom on Charles’ face as he took note of the naught sparkle in Natalia’s orbs.

“Unless— you know—” She drawled her words, making the smile on the receiver of her antics widen. “Charles Leclerc were to call in—”

He disintegrated into a pile of frenzy at that. Clutching his stomach as his laughter, joined in by Natalia’s own, bounced uncontrollably against the four walls of the enclosed space.

“I’m not sure they’d do their beloved Max Verstappen’s rival a favor.” He acknowledged.

“Oh—right.” Natalia had completely forgotten that Max was Dutch. She knew Charles meant it as a joke but the harsh reality seemed to have overtaken its intended merits.

Then again, she was quick to dispel the impending depressive state. “You know, according to my research, Dutch people are very friendly even if they like speak their mind . . .”

An appreciative hum sounded at the back of Charles’ throat, thankful for her efforts of comfort and the ding of the elevator that indicated their arrival to his floor.

In an unconscious move, he reached for Natalia’s hand, grasping it gently in his. To which the latter responded by gawking at him while they both stalked through the nicely lit corridor.

Charles’ room was two doors away from the very last one, and when they arrived, he tapped in his key card, never seeming to have the intention of releasing the chilling palm that rested in his hold.

As the door opened, along with the grating creak of the door was the heightening of Natalia’s senses. The fresh scent of lavender infiltrated the previous musing scouring at her wits.

She inhaled the saving grace of her sanity, finding the soothing aroma also matched the overall aesthetic of his room.

The fuzzy brown carpet at the center of the room adorned the flooring, to which an oval glass coffee table was placed

“Sit wherever you want,” He said, freeing her hand. “Make yourself feel comfortable.”

As he started to walk away, Natalia bent down balancing her weight with her hand on the doorframe as she untied the laces of her boots.

Charles turned to her, hearing the sudden rustling. “You don’t have to take your shoes off,”

She immediately halted her actions, eyebrows wrinkled at the absurdity of all that. “There’s no way I’m stepping my shoes on a carpet,”

The crease in her eyebrows worsen at that thought of her mother. She could almost see the utter disgust on her face when she finds out Europeans don’t particularly care for what she called “unknown bacteria” spreading through their home.

She set her boots aside, plopping on the pearl colored seating. “My mom would’ve strangled you if she heard you say that,”

Her remark made Charles chuckle, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Depends.” She thought, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table. “What are you having?”

Natalia heard a series of cabinet creaking followed by clinks of what she assumed was glass.

“Well, of you’re craving something sweet, I have orange juice and iced tea,” He replied, peaking his head on the doorframe.

Charles took in the sight of Natalia’s wandering eyes on his apartment, ignoring the sudden pang of nervousness creeping up on him.

The curious girl whipped her head towards his waiting figure, lips pursing with a uncaring shrug. “I’m good with that. But if you want to drink something. . . stronger, I wouldn’t judge.”

She watched the chuckle bloom out of Charles’ relaxed features, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

While he was arranging beverages, Natalia reviewed what he had observed from his apartment.

Firstly, she found it surprising that he owned a living space in this country. Him always hopping on a jet to different countries every week, defeats the purpose of buying one. It didn’t look like he used it often either.

It had one of those minimal modern designs. Like the ones she’d see whenever she was at Summit Furniture, a furniture store she frequented at in Monaco. She currently sat on a white polyester loveseat with tapered rosewood legs that angled outwards. It all seemed like they’ve just been bought yesterday. No scratches on the wooden legs nor flaws in the fabric seating. Same goes for the rest of his furniture that she had seen so far.

The television looked like it had yet to serve its purpose and the tables be marked with any stain or evidences of usage.

Her deep observation caused a barricading and tension within her sense. The unbelievable tidiness and perfection of her surroundings made her more conscious of her actions.

“Here we are!” Charles’ unforeseen appearance rattled her core, prompting her to sit up straighter. He had brought a tray of various drinks.

Natalia eyed the colorful liquids in different types of glasses. Some in one in a high ball, champagne and cocktail glass. Beside those were a bottle of Heineken and Jenever.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trapping the laughter threatening to pull through, settling for a supportive nod.

“I’m guessing this is the orange juice?” She plucked the high ball glass from the tray, a teasing smile adorning her face.

“Yes, it is,” Charles took out his phone, the unwavering nerves still present in his veins. “I know I said I’ll order for you, but here’s the menu, you might see something you like—”

She raised his hands, shaking her head. “Trust me, the only food I’m sure are gonna be are Stroopwafel and those ball shaped snack I ate at the paddock. Besides, I’m not picky with food, I’ll swallow anything you give me.”

Charles’ thumbs stopped their typing, his lips thinning at the intrusive thought in his head.

Anything, huh?

“You’re disgusting—”

“I didn’t say—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s written all over your face!” Natalia growled, motioning to the idiotic smirk hanging of his face across her.

“Think what you want,” Charles chimed, resuming his attention to his device. “That’s what I’m doing anyway hmpf—”

A soft object suddenly collided at his face, laughing as he realized that Natalia had thrown a pillow at him.

He removes it from obstructing his view, glancing up at the glowering figure in front of him, now bringing her lips close to the tall glass of juice.

“Give the phone. . .” She said, extending her arm forwards for Charles to pass her the device.

He hands it to her, inclining his body towards her. “I personally love Hachee, it’s meat with mash potatoes and gravy—”

“Frog legs!”

Charles stopped talking, staring stupidly at her exclamation. A wide smile plastered on her face as she turned the phone towards him and pointed to the certain dish.

“You eat frogs?” Charles didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, but the overpowering shock at this discovery halted all sense of thinking.

“Yeah? And?” At her defensive tone, Charles quickly held his hands up, waving them at her.

“No! That’s not what I mean!” He scratched the back of his head, hoping to ward away the embarrassment of his mistake. “I-I just mean, you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually excited to eating frogs,”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at Charles. “That can’t be true, frogs are eaten a lot in Manaco,”

“Doesn’t mean everybody likes them,” Charles remarked, taking the bottle opener from the table before twisting it on a Heineken beer.

Natalia watched him take a sip, crossing her arms at his statement. “You mean to say— of all the Monegasque girls you’ve dated— not a single one ate frogs?”

Charles felt amusement trickling at his through as he spotted the doubt on her face. “Well, I did let them try it.” He restored. “But they either pretended to like it or just straight up told me, quite frankly that they’d rather eat dirt.”

Natalia lights up at that, bringing her hands together in an mirthful clap. “At least some were honest about it,”

Charles nodded, glancing up at her as he began to wonder wether or not he should consume more alcohol to gain the courage to ask her questions that may be deemed too personal. Threading lightly on the subject, he reached for the Daquiri, giving in to its undeniable seductive calling.

“Is it a common food in the Philippines?” He asked, eyes traveling to the curvature of her expression.

Natalia’s lips disconnected from the cold glass rim, licking away the numbness spreading through her mouth. “Not exactly all over the country, but in my province, we do eat it a lot,” A mirror of nostalgia passes by her eyes, slotting in the depths of her memories.

Charles observed as she spaced out, blankly staring at the wooden coffee table. Instead of snapping her out of her trans, he waited patiently for her to regain her train of thought.

Blinking rapidly, the fog of her brain slowly disappeared, a large intake of breath released from her lungs before she cleared her throat.

As she craned her neck back to the person she was talking to, her heart lurched at her throat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were drowned in unbelievable intent, as if she’d disappear if he was to look away.

“Let’s play that game again,” He said, softly.

“What?”

“That game in the car. 20 questions,” He clarified, tilting his head at her, “I want to play it again.”

Dread filled her mind, mouth beginning to ache, along with the slight tremble of her voice. “Why?”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” He pointed out. “I’ve know you for quite a while but I don’t know anything about you. . .”

“There’s nothing to know,” She huffed, eyebrows coming together in a pinch. “My life isn’t interesting in the slightest.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her, careful not to overstep. “I’ll ask basic questions then,”

She scrunched her face up at him. “Like what?”

With his eyes on her, he shrugged. “How did you end up in Monaco?”

“That’s not—” She sighed, pulsing her palms into an alternating clench. Her hands came up to snatch the beer off the table, taking a large gulp of it.

This was not a good idea from the start but then again, she made no complaints about it either.

Setting the bottle down with a loud clank, she tuts at his waiting figure. “I applied for the scholarship grant, almost failed the final interview, found out I didn’t, and— lo and behold, I’m here.”

The vagueness of her answer made Charles roll his eyes. “You almost failed? Why?” He questioned.

Natalia frowned at him, wagging her finger up at his line of vision. “No—no, it’s my turn,”

Charles sighed, defeated, downing a shot of tequila as the former thought of her first question. “Who’s your favorite sibling?”

Taken aback, he smiled at her random choice of words. “I don’t have one,”

His answer was met by a judgmental glance. “Boo! Everybody has one. Come on!”

Hesitation reeled him in with the desire to end thos query immediately. So, with all the shame warped into a giant ball in his heart. Je all but murmured a name.

“Sorry, say that again?” He could practically feel the teasing smirk on her face as she neared her ear on his mouth.

His eyes fluttered close, amusement and annoyance dancing at his veins. “I said, Arthur—”

She laughed, finding his imminent torture to have soothe her pounding heart. “Don’t feel bad, it’s pretty obvious anyway,”

At that, Charles didn’t indulge in her usual provocative style. Instead, thwacking her back with another personal question.

“What do your parents to for a living?”

She coughed, the sharp taste of alcohol pricking at her throat as it violently drew back to her nose.

“Are you okay?” The concern etched visible at the lines of Charles’ face as he stood up to hand her a tissue. He sat next to her, plucking more out of the box as she attempted to stop the liquid pouring out from her nostrils.

She gratefully took the tissue from him, blowing her nose into it. She would’ve found it embarrassing as she heard the disgusting noise it made as she emptied her now stinging nose of the culprit if it weren’t for her spinning mind.

She wiped her jeans, trying to play it cool as she responded. “My parents— My mom was an accountant and my dad— he. . . used to trade oil.”

Charles peaked onto her face, wiping of the remnants of beer on her cheek. “What’s wrong with that?”

Natalia swallowed the painful block of her throat, hand coming up to where he had his on her face. “Nothing. . . I-it’s not their jobs. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask about my parents.”

“We—”

The loud ringing of a phone interrupted their conversation. Natalia felt the vibration in her bag before she realized it was hers.

This dispelled the heavy ambiance of the atmosphere, waking the occupants from their trance.

Oh shit, Natalia thought as she saw the caller’s name flash on her phone.

Nicolas Todt

As soon as she pressed the green button signifying her death, the device was gone, only to be taken by the tutting Monegasque beside her.

She immediate shuffled up, desperately trying to get the phone out of his grip. It was too late, however, as he stood up at the sound of his manager’s voice.

Deflating in defeat, Natalia hopelessly smothered her head on the soft cushion’s of the couch.

“Hello?”

“What are yo— Hello? Charles? Is that you?”

Natalia winced at the pure hostility in Nicolas’ tone. Even after figuring out that the taker of the call was indeed his well-loved client, it didn’t quell the scorching heat of his flaming outrage.

“Oui c'est moi. Quoi de neuf?” Yes, it’s me. What’s up?

In contrast to Charles’ collected attitude, Natalia could feel her insides churning slowly into a blob of mush. Her only wish was for Charles not to ruin this job for her was beggining to whither away with the his careless actions.

“Quoi de neuf?” What’s up? Nicolas echoed, his sharp scoff going through the phone’s speaker and stabbing Natalia directly in the deepest part of her chest.

“Vous n'avez pas vérifié votre téléphone?” He spat, as it were acid poured on his tongue.

At the word phone, Natalia’s head shot up from the condoling compressor of her resting place, panicking as she searched for her phone.

The cumulus fog accumulating her head, clouded the clarity of her thinking, making her forget that someone else had possessed the thing she was looking for.

Charles nodded along to the string of profanities Nicolas kept rambling through his ear, shifting her attention to the frightened girl on his couch. Her heightened vigilance evident as trembling her hands patted wildly along his furniture.

He aided her frantic movements with a soft brush of his hand on her cheek, tapping his thumb on her paled skin.

Natalia whipped her head around to face him, breathing out of sigh of relief as she followed his finger pointing to his phone.

Wasting no time, she snagged it off the table, nearly shoving it on Charles’ face when it demanded a passcode after failing the face recognition system.

Charles careened his head backwards to avoid the object barreling into his face.

Natalia waited, anxiously fiddling with the stitchings of her clothing, as the daunting atmosphere worsened every second that passed by.

She almost tore Charles’ entire arm from his body by the vast amount of force she exerted at him. Quickly tapping on Google app, her hands shook as they hovered over the keys, thoughts failing to conjure words she needed.

“Charles Leclerc girlfriend. . .” A whisper came next to her.

She gritted her teeth at the awful joke. Perhaps as knew it wasn’t an impossible headline. It dawned to her the severity of their offense as she typed his name on the search bar.

It appears that her groan of indignation was loud enough for Nicolas’ ears as Natalia heard his mocked version of it despite being on Charles’ space.

“Did you see it?” Nicolas queried, his tone unreadable.

Natalia turned the screen to Charles’ vision. And the idiot had the audacity to laugh.

Merely hacking into his balled fist, the presence of his teeth behind his lips irritated both Nicolas and Natalia.

In disgustingly big letters, the headline read:

Natalia swiped at the screen, ticking her brow in victory as the smile drained visibly off his face at what she had shown.

“Now, that’s not funny. . .”

You don’t say. . .” She gritted, padding a hand on her chest to feign shock.

Charles offered her an apologetic pat on the head of the sneering girl. The latter slapped his hand away, force firm but not enough to do any harm.

Natalia could hear the faint murmurs of Nicolas before his voice was amplified by Charles’ simple tap of the speaker phone.

“Listen, both of you,” He commended. “Gossip magazines aren’t exactly fond of what ever it is you’re doing.”

“I am so sorry—”

“You are not.” The dripping venom in his tone made Natalia flinch back, leaning away from the source of his voice as if he were to pop out of the screen. “I don’t know what you were both thinking but luckily social media loved your little rendezvous.”

Silence fell between the scolded individuals, eyes creeping up to see the other’s reaction. Like staring directly at a mirror, they alined body language that could only be read as confusion.

“So. . . That means?” Natalia trailed, leveling her vocals in light of steering clear of another possible volcanic eruption from Nicolas.

“It means. . .” Nicolas pressed, annoyance still present. “You have to continue your. . . what you call it?”

Natalia listen intently as Nicolas asked someone for the word he was searching for. “The what? Oh— yes that. . . Your situationship.”

“Ew no!” Natalia’s extreme protest was met with sheer bewilderment on Charles’ part, struggling to process the meaning of the foreign term.

“What is that? What’s a situationship?”

At his question, Natalia stirred back to him, giving him a look of disbelief. Nicolas on the other hand simply clicked his tongue, sighing brfore supplying the answer to his client.

“They’re two people who have no sense of direction regarding their relationship.” He explained, and though he cannot see the expression on Charles’ face, he knew very well what it was.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Natalia’s jaw slackened, palm slapping on his forehead. And although she knew Nicolas’ explanation of situationship was a fairly watered down version of the real deal, she didn’t have the strength to further Charles’ knowledge on the subject.

Nicolas ignored his question. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I advise you to not step out of that building until daylight.”

Natalia’s eyes widened at that. “What? You want me to stay here?”

“Certainly.” He concluded.

Sensation drained completely from her body. The electric feeling of lacking blood, slowly spread in an infectious manner. With it, the chill of reality came to set in.

“I’ve already informed Toto of the situation.”

As if it wasn’t enough, after hearing that, the lavender scent of the atmosphere that was thought to have the a calming effect seemed impotent, in comparison to the vigorous hold this ghastly chain of anxiety had on her.

Of all the things she feared, the idea of disappointing Toto Wolff and Susie Wolff was an absolute nightmare. How could she face the people who gave her the opportunity of a life time if she were to do dim-witted things like this?

In the midst of her internal battle, her head stirred to the cause of her misbehavior. He just so happened to be looking at her as well.

Unlike the pointed glare she blatantly jabbed into his face, Charles offered her a worried glance that could bloom flowers on his pretty little head.

Despite her scornful demeanor, she couldn’t shake away the guilt of being in this position. She was aware that it wasn’t Charles’ fault alone but perhaps putting all the blame in him would ease her desire to simply jump on a boat and abandon everything she ever dreamed in her life.

Natalia recoiled at the sudden warmth on her arm. Look towards the source, she relaxed at the sight of Charles’ hand on her skin.

He had ended the call, sitting back down on his previous place. “How do you want to do this?”

Natalia heaved a heavy sigh, afraid that the force might collapse her lungs. “I honestly can’t think of anything else but being fired. . .”

Charles took her hand in a grip that he could only hope held the comfort he was trying to induce. “You won’t. I’m the reason you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”

“You better. . .” She huffed, shoving a strong palm at his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look my classmates in the eye when I have to go back to University, though.”

“When do you have to go back?” He asked.

“In three days. We have to submit a report every two weeks regarding our performance.” She expounded, thinking about the sour look on her headmaster’s face at the sight of his achingly popular student walking in her office.

“Well, in that case, you can say that you helped me increase my fanbase by 2% in just three weeks.” Charles tried to provide a consolation.

Natalia hummed, lips curling as she was reminded of that information. “You make it sound like I’m a one-man team. . .” She shook her head.

She was sure that Charles’ PR team wouldn’t appreciate her taking all the credit for the improvements in the Ferrari driver’s personal accounts.

“Probably not. But most of it was your idea.”

It was intended to aid the boisterous voices crowding the little space left in her brain that wasn’t consumed by the nauseating noise of failure but alas proved to be ineffective as she abruptly stood up and took her phone from Charles’ lap.

Tapping the number she knew would cover the gaping hole of fear continuously scraping at her brain.

She watched as her phone started ringing, the name of her partner in crime flashing on the screen.

Lissie

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #charlos #ferrari #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x y/n #landoscar #charles leclerc smut

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utilitycaster · 2 months

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Hi! Hope you don’t mind me asking but, I’ve seen you comment about a “fjord moon” theory every so often in your tags, and I’m quite curious what’s it about? I don’t think I’ve ever heard about it, is it something more prevalent in twitter spaces?

It started in Reddit spaces but it had a moment within the fandom at large during Campaign 2, especially after a YouTube video surfaced shortly after the campaign had come back from hiatus in August 2020. It hasn't come up lately since Campaign 3's plot pretty thoroughly debunked it, which wasn't necessary for reasons I will cover below.

I talked about how stupid it was at the time, and will do so again but I don't feel like looking back through my archives to find that post, so: the idea was that Fjord was from Ruidus. I call it a theory because its creators called it a theory but it was really just a lot of incoherent yelling that unfortunately happened to fall into the hands of a prolific and popular but talentless video maker and was boosted by a prolific and popular but deeply stupid figure on CR Twitter.

You can read it here but in short he basis was that Fjord was actually a Spelljammer Space Orc (Scro; yes this is just Orcs backwards; Spelljammer is not exactly the most brilliant of concepts) because he was intelligent and walked upright, ignoring that Spelljammer was, at the time, from D&D 2e only which can generously be described as "wicked racist in the depiction of orcs". Not that 5e is not without its foibles, but it had largely 86-ed the worst of the racism that pervaded earlier orc depictions. Also Garthok pre-dated Fjord and was a half-orc with the same intelligence, but what are facts to an idiot. So anyway this guy working off a deeply racist older concept for orcs spun this into a wild conspiracy theory involving the fact that Travis likes Dragonball Z; something about the film Spaceballs (as far as I know Travis has said absolutely nothing about this, this is just that the Mel Brooks Star Wars parody and my personal childhood favorite Spaceballs exists I think?) and various other random pulls from science fiction media. This guy asked a question at a panel and mistook the cast looking at him like he had lost the plot as a sign he was onto something. Somehow, people listened to him.

Here's the thing about theorycraft. It is more important, in writing a theory, that you base it on evidence than that you get it correct. Any dipshit can guess and any lucky dipshit can guess correctly, but if you show that you can't structure an argument for beans, anyone who can structure an argument for beans will rightfully look at you and say "well, they predicted something once, but that's a fucking fluke because they're a fucking joke." Theories should explain something that needs explanation (Fjord having an INT of 14 and the name Fjord and being an orphan does not). They should not solely rest on things the cast likes or things that merely exist in-world and certainly not from Spaceballs and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the connection of which to Critical Role in that Reddit post is not explained, ever.

To give some examples of good, mediocre, and bad but at least not nearly that bad theorycraft: the theory that Ashton was a meteor that was around early in C3 is in my mind not very good, but at least it fits within Exandria canon and explained something about Ashton needing explanation at the time. The theory that The Emissary is the source of the stasis bubbles is in my mind a very good one explaining several key mysteries (source of stasis bubbles; why Erathis sent him rather than coming himself). The theory that Bor'Dor was a dog was fucking stupid and made no sense nor did it explain anything that needed explanation (and also wildly misjudged how border collies behave) but did at least not say "also, the TV show Lassie...exists in our reality, and this is evidence" The Fjord Moon Theory is maybe the stupidest and worst CR theory I've seen in my entire life, and it's up there for fandom theories over all. I get that it was August 2020 and I don't begrudge people who were very bored and scared from joking about it while not taking it seriously, but I do begrudge those who did take it seriously because like, come on.

Anyway, I bring it up in tags sometimes because many of the worst C3 takes on Twitter that make it to me via "can you fucking believe this" screenshots in the groupchat are either started or propagated by Former Moon Theory People.

#answered #Anonymous #the video maker appears to have quit the fandom which is good bc they were also behind my OTHER least favorite cr fan vid #cr tag

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pouringmyheartoutforpaper · 2 years

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Hiii, I read your story about lovesick steve flirting with reader and it’s literally the cutest thing ever I’m so in love with that man

I wanted to ask you if you could write something based on the last line where you say he would never do anything sexual, you had to ask for it, and r is like trying to get there but she’s to shy to say it out loud and steve it’s like “don’t mix a make out session with sex” so he always stop himself and she’s like ☹️ thinking he doesn’t wanna have sex with him, some hurt/ comfort please

of course only if you want, if not it’s really good, just to let you know those headcanons were amazing

oh my gosh thank you so much, im so happy you liked it. i love this concept bc it hits a little too close to home. but here we go <3

warnings: insecurity, mentions of steve in hs, steve's trauma, heavily mentioned sex and intimacy but no actual smut, fluffy fluff, not proofread

also: lmk if you guys want a part 2 to this <3

its half past nine and you're on steve's couch, more specifically, you're on steve. your legs are on either side of him, your knees touching the couch cushions behind him. mouthing at each other hungrily, with an intensity that made your heads fuzzy.

before he picked you up, you decided on a pretty dress to wear. your lace bralette peaking out the top in a way you knew he wouldn't be able to resist. framing your breasts perfectly, propped up just for him to see. makeup perfect. begging to be touched. begging to be loved.

but steve had picked you up, meeting your eyes first before scanning the rest of your body. his eyes got caught up a few times, but they quickly made their way back to your face. he told you you looked gorgeous. on the way to his house, he kissed your hands and sang to you. you love how gentlemanly he is. you really do, but god if you didn't want him to be unable to resist you.

and he couldn't. every time you looked away he would stare at you, letting his mind wander about what was under that pretty dress. how your lipgloss would look smeared across his chest. how your mascara would look smudged and looking up at him. how your mouth would look wrapped around him.

but he told himself as soon as you started dating that he wouldn't fuck this up. he knew that you needed a month or two before you could feel comfortable having sex with him, and he was more than content with that. he knew you were shy and delicate, and that you were scared because of his past hookups in high school. he knew he was a lot more experienced than you, and he wanted you to be completely comfortable and safe giving yourself to him. but with his knowledge of your shyness, it was baffling to you how he wouldn't realize that you couldn't just ask for him to have sex with you. you can barely order for yourself at restaurants.

which leads you back to where you are now. panting against his mouth, his hands on your hips while the credits for the princess bride played in the background. his hands moving up and down your back. yet, never touching the hem of your dress. never pulling you to sit on his achingly hard cock. no, he keeps it very tame. as always. and as you notice this, your mind can't help but wander.

you know he has had sex. in fact, you knew he has had a lot of sex. you had heard about it in passing comments about his high school days, minus his senior year, which he spent mostly moping. but he had never ever brought it up to you. he'd actually give robin and eddie a very scary look whenever they made a dumb joke about it. glaring at them and pulling you closer to his side to plant a kiss on your forehead. he knew it could make you insecure, and it shouldn't. his high school adventures were a failed attempt at emotional intimacy, which is much more embarrassing for him than it is for anything else. he had sex because he was good at it, and he'd get praised by not only girls but everyone around him. he didn't have good grades, and he wasn't the smartest, but he was athletic, good-looking, charming, and knew his way around the female anatomy. which is more than can be said for the rest of the male population in hawkins. but once he had had sex with someone, his self-esteem never failed to remind him that that was all he was good at. nobody actually wanted him. just wanted him to see what the hype was about, and occasionally come back for more. he had always kept civil with the girls he had slept with, giving them a small smile and a wave when confronted with one. he knew it wasn't their fault. it was his never-ending search for validation that he had never gotten as a child. he realized this while he was working at the mall with robin. but he had worked on himself. he had gotten help, he processed it. because he knew he couldn't be loved if he had little to no respect for himself. and after that, sex wasn't nearly as important as it used to be. he didn't even want it with anyone he wasn't in love with. but he is in love with you, so, of course, he wanted to have sex with you, like- a lot. but you didn't know that.

why wasn't he touching you? did you do something wrong? what made you so different from the other girls? were you not good enough? did he think you couldn't? are you embarrassing yourself? did he think you didn't want it? does he not want it?

he noticed you crying before you did, felt your tears hit his cheeks, and jumped into action immediately. picking you up and placing you next to him on the couch. the tears fell harder. his left-hand holds your own, and his right is rubbing soothing circles into your cheek.

"hey, im sorry, im sorry baby, its okay, im sorry." he apologizes, panicking that he had made you upset. apologizing for taking it too far. not knowing you're upset because he's not taking it far enough.

you put your head in your hands and attempt to stop the racing thoughts in your head. "steve, why are you sorry?" your voice is shaking, racked with guilt that he's being so kind to you.

"because baby, I just got carried away. I didn't mean to upset you, honey. you never have to do anything you don't want to. if you told me I could never touch you, I would still love you the same. im sorry that I made you sad, darling."

you peeked at him through your fingers, he looked so panicked that you just had to take his hand off your lap to kiss it. you giggled at the irony of the situation. he was scared he took things too far, and you were scared because he hadn't taken things far enough. your soft giggles only made him more confused, thinking maybe you hit your head. why would you be laughing at that? he lifted his hand to your forehead to check for a fever but found nothing.

"baby, what is happening?" he said so desperately that you had to laugh.

"i love you so much steve, thats not why im crying."

"then whats wrong, sweetheart?" his voice is gentle as he caresses the skin on your palm.

oh no. now you'd actually have to tell him whats wrong. you'd have to admit that you're scared he doesn't want to have sex with you. you have to ask him why he hasn't had sex with you. he's going to know how insecure you are about his past, but not in the way you'd think. not scared of the women, or the strength of your relationship, but of your own attractiveness and ability to please him. all you wanted was for him to take care of you. touch you in all the nicest places that you knew he could reach.

"i-" your voice cut off, you looked away. his hand moved your jaw back in place to look at him. which turned you on so much the tears started forming again.

"honey please, tell me what's wrong." you looked up at him because you could feel his voice breaking. and you were not about to make your boy cry. you spoke instantly. the need to make him feel better outweighing the embarrassment by a long shot.

"im scared you dont want to have sex with me." you blurt out before your brain can stop you. the look on his face is comical, the confusion mixing with shock. "-i- I just. i know you've done it with girls before but you never try it with me and its really sweet that you remember that i told you i wouldn't be able to do it at first but i am ready now and i- i want it a lot. and im worried that im not pretty enough or that you arent attracted to me at all. and im sorry." the last apology came out as more of a whimper as you brought your head down to your folded knees and tried to calm down. sniffling and wiping your tears as best you could. but now it was steve's turn to laugh.

"that's what you're worried about? oh baby..." he pulled you back into his arms and stared at you. he was giggling like a child that had just learned about knock-knock jokes. "that's crazy, you know that? that's insane baby. honey, you make me crazy. there's like barely a second of the day that im not thinking about ripping your clothes off. eddie and robin bully me all the time for it. did you not notice how many times I had to go home throughout our friendship? how before we even started dating I would suddenly have work to do whenever you came out for movie night bra-less in those little shorts? seriously, I mean- what do you think I did when I got home, baby? " at this point you're both laughing and blushing profusely. steve didn't ever think he would have to disclose to you how many times he has to come home and fist his cock at the thought of you, but apparently, you needed to hear it more than he thought you did.

He continued, "No, honey I just wanted you to be able to be comfortable with me. I was waiting for you to ask. I was- I am perfectly content waiting as long as you want me to. I've never wanted someone more in my entire life than you. In every way. Literally every way. I want you to be my friend, I want you to be my girlfriend, I want you to be my wife, I want you to have my kids, I, I- I- just adore you, honey. all of you, so much... so yes, I very very much want to be inside of you every day, 24/7, but I'd also still be yours if you never let me. but god sometimes it's the only thing I think about all day. it's pathetic really, you have me almost cumming on myself halfway through my shift and you aren't even there. I don't think there's a time in which I'm around you- that you aren't crying- that im not at least a little hard. I am genuinely surprised you didn't notice. falling for the 'hands in pockets' thing? the oldest trick in the book baby, really it's no wonder it took you four months to realize I liked you. i think you might be blind." he finishes. you're both laughing so hard your ribs hurt, and you're attempting to hide in his neck. "No! No! I just told you all of my deepest darkest secrets and now you're hiding from me!"

You bring your head back up to his, beaming at each other. You pressed your lips together for a soft, sweet peck that turned into about twenty kisses all over his face.

"I love you Steve Harrington."

"I love you so much, silly girl. 'Love you so much even though you're a little bit oblivious." His reply is ironic because he is the most oblivious person in the entire world. But adorable and true nonetheless. He finishes his statement with a kiss.

"Y'know, I think about you too. Like that. A lot." you whisper, looking up at him from his shoulder.

"Yeah, baby? How much?" Here it is. The famous Steve Harrington charm that can make anyone weak in the knees. He's still got it. And a lot of it.

"Every day, and every night." You giggle into his shoulder. He looks at you, amused.

"Oh yeah, baby? Well, I'm taking you out for dinner tomorrow, how about that? And we can come home and we'll do whatever feels right for us, and take it from there. How's that sound? Or I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities in the future if you change your mind, doll." He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I'd like that, Stevie."

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x female reader

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nico-di-genova · 3 months

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Alexander Rossi Lore Drop Night round 3.

Honestly, these are just becoming my podcast recaps at this point. Like a “here’s what you missed on Glee” except it’s a “here’s what you maybe knew before me, because alex said it three years ago” kind of deal.

Not a cat guy, which feels like a given, seeing as he has two dogs and is very clearly a dog dad. But James called cats the “spawn of satan” and Alex agreed, so he’s actually very anti cat. Ironic, since he’s clearly the grumpy black cat in his friendships.

Likes pickled beans, which I guess are a thing in Canada. I don’t even want to think of what these could possibly taste like, I’m a little scared of the concept tbh. But like, glad he enjoys them I guess. He apparently raids Canadians houses for said beans when he visits them.

Eats Applebees before every indy 500. Idk if he was joking about this or not, he seemed pretty serious. If this wasn’t a joke…I’m severely judging him. Like, sure, the $5 drink deals are great. But sir, you are rich, have some class. Go to chilis.

Went to DC for a work event in 2021 and it was his first time getting to spend time in the city, so he explored a little. He ended up visiting the spy museum and figured he’d be in and out pretty quickly - like 20 minutes tops. Turns out, this place was like Disneyland to him, he spent three and a half hours there. He was invested in solving a mystery they apparently task guests with solving? Idk, I go to DC for the air and space museum, we have different interests clearly. His code name was pine cone. Given his competitive nature and love for acquiring obscure knowledge, it feels like a given he would love this niche museum where you pretend to be a secret spy and go against other guests in a fun little game. Idk why he thought he’d only be there for 20 minutes. Also I like to think he was surrounded by other kids when he was doing all this. Just this tall grown man walking around calling himself pine cone and feeling proud of himself when he succeeded at pretend spying against a group of pre-teens. Good for pine cone, proud of him for succeeding.

#Alex lore drop night #Alex lore

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

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So You Can Do Yours

part two up now: whatever you say, president-nim wc: 2k pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: none? i guess reader is not on good terms with father but to be fair their father is a chairman of a company so he probably is objectively not great; literally fluff and mostly platonic/you're his boss so but suggestion that wookie has a crush on reader at the end... and reader is supposed to be 19; super unrealistic but just a fun little fictional concept lol summary: uselessCEO!reader has fired every new assistant they've had in the past few months, but newassistant!gunwook thinks he might be the right man for the job. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ this is a cute one :) gunwook is baby. gunwook is son. protect him at all costs. i've been wanting to write more for gunwookie for a while, but i was super hesitant to because i got a really freakish comment about the only small drabble i wrote for him. so five months later i'm ready to try again. please remember this is just a work of fiction and its crazy fluffy. i really hope you like it! also expect more writing from me this month-- i'm taking the rest of summer off from school so. i'll need to stay busy 😤

“President-nim?” A voice calling through the intercom on your desk breaks your concentration. You huff annoyedly as you lean forward and press the microphone button.

“What is it?”

“Your new assistant is here to meet you,” Secretary Lee responds cautiously. You groan; quickly shoving what you had been working on into the hidden compartment of your desk. Not another assistant.

Every Monday for two months now, a new bright-eyed young woman had walked through the doors of your office ready to kick-start her career as a company president's trusty assistant. And sure enough, by that Friday afternoon every single one of them had run out in tears; unable to handle the pressures of the job. Was that pressure almost entirely due to the fact that you had no idea how to do your own job? Unimportant, but--

“Annyeonghaseyo, President-nim!” A male voice shakes you from your internal monologue as you look up to find that a young man in a 90 degree bow has appeared in front of you. He looks up at you, his gaze drifting to your right hand.

You follow his line of sight to find a watercolor brush still in your hand-- dripping a bit onto your desk. Lifting up your desk compartment slightly, you toss the brush in with the others. You clear your throat a bit awkwardly-- smoothing down the lapels of your suit jacket with your fingers. “Annyeonghaseyo,” you mumble.

“I’m your new assistant, Park Gunwook,” he introduces politely, standing up straight. It’s now that you suddenly realize just how young this man appears to be. His face is round with youth and his lips resemble that of a baby chick. “I hope to serve you well.”

“When? After you get out of school each day?” You joke, brow furrowed in suspicion. “How did you get this job, huh? You look like you’re late for hagwon.”

Gunwook’s brow stays raised for a moment, but a surprisingly cheeky smile eventually creeps onto his face. “Couldn’t I ask you the same, President-nim?”

You exhale an unamused laugh. Guess this one thinks he’s clever. “I graduated two and a half years early.”

“That must look impressive on a resume,” he agrees genuinely with a nod. “Your father being the Chairman of the Board also must look pretty impressive on a resume.”

Stunned by this kid’s audacity, you just stare back at him.

“Nothing to be ashamed of President-nim,” he reassures, clasping his hands together behind his back. “I happen to know someone that works here, too.”

Figures. “And which one of those geriatric, good-for-nothing money bags on the Board is your daddy?”

“None of them,” Gunwook says with a smile. “Secretary Lee is my eomma. Might seem small, but a connection’s a connection.”

Secretary Lee hired her own son? After the way she’d watched all of the sobbing girls run out of the building screaming ‘I’M NEVER WORKING EVER AGAIN’’ each week?

What terrible thing had Park Gunwook done to be handed such a fate by his own mother?

You stand up from your desk and meet Gunwook at the front of it. Walking in a tight circle around him, you examine every inch of him curiously as he stands at attention.

“Um, President-nim?” He asks without moving a muscle. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Absolutely not,” you answer, bending down to look at his dress shoes. They’re more than a few years old and definitely not a designer brand, but somehow... they’re condition is nearly immaculate. Not to mention, the black, thin laces are tied in perfectly symmetrical bows. Huh. It’s pretty uncommon for a boy your age to care that much about the tidiness of his shoes.

“Weirdo,” you mutter under your breath as you stand back up. You have to crane your neck a bit to look Gunwook in the eyes; not only is he quite tall, you also realized you’re standing a bit too close to him. Stepping back slightly, you take a seat on your desk-- crossing your arms as you glare at him.

“Something not to your liking, President-nim?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question.

You don’t answer. Instead, you ask a question of your own. “What makes you think you have what it takes to be my assistant?”

“I’ve been President of my class since middle school. I’ve placed in national debate competitions. I’m organized, responsible, and competent,” he responds confidently. But a little mischievous sparkle appears in his eye as he adds, “From what I’ve heard, those are qualities the President's office might need more of.”

“YA! Do you want to die, you little--...” As you threaten him, Gunwook has already gone back to his default polite smiling. “What’s wrong with you, huh? Don’t you know I can blacklist you for life with one phone call? Tell me why I shouldn’t--.”

“President-nim!” Gunwook interrupts your thought excitedly; pointing to a stack of papers sitting on the corner of your desk. “Are those spreadsheets that need executive review? I’m experienced in Excel if you're... too busy for them.”

You frown, picking up the papers in your hand and sifting through them. They are spreadsheets that need executive review. You’ve been putting it off for a week, because, believe it or not, you didn’t get a very spreadsheet-centric education at the fine arts university you attended. To think, you could be painting in your own studio all day every day. But instead your father wanted you to do something “sensible” and “respectable” that “made you worthy of receiving his estate some day”.

Not that you cared much about an inheritance. But at this point it was the least you were owed for sacrificing your life’s passion to goof off in an office for the rest of your life. It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed being unhelpful or unproductive, but at just shy of twenty years old with a BA in Fine Arts... you hadn’t exactly been well-prepared for such an important job.

You look back up at Gunwook. He’s practically salivating at the mouth to get his hands on your routine paperwork. You hand him the stack of spreadsheets with a sigh: “Knock yourself out.”

Gunwook’s concerningly large hand snatches the papers from yours with lightning speed; hugging them to his chest happily. “Thank you, President-nim! I won’t let you down.”

You’re almost starting to believe him.

“Right,” you agree, chewing your cheek as you walk back behind your desk. “Well, you get to work on those and have them back to me by... Uh...”

You’re struggling to think of a reasonable time frame for the spreadsheet reviews to be completed, since you’d never once been the one to finish them. Gunwook sees this and answers for you, “Tomorrow at noon, I think you were going to say, President-nim?”

“Tomorrow at noon,” you echo with a frown. You’re not sure you like how familiar this kid was becoming with you already, but at least he’d been far more eager to do your executive work for you than anyone had been thus far. You’d know by tomorrow at noon if he was truly capable or not.

“And where should I put them for you if you’re not in your office, President-nim?” He asks thoughtfully.

“Oh, um,” you stumble, looking around for a good spot. You land on the thin drawer at the center of your desk and point to it. “In here is fine.”

Gunwook quickly walks behind your desk to see the drawer, stopping at a respectful distance. He reaches towards the drawer, but when you realize his fingers are pulling the wrong handle-- the top of your desk is already lifting open before you can stop him.

“Whoah,” the boy whispers in awe as he stares at the giant watercolor landscape painting you’d been working on for the last week or so. You both stand in silence for a moment as you watch Gunwook take in every detail of your latest work. “This is incredible.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly-- folding your arms across your chest uncomfortably at the compliment. No one had seen your artwork for a while now; even mentioning it in your father’s presence sent him into a spiral.

“If you’re this talented, then why--... Why are you the president of a tech corporation?” He asks, eyes meeting yours now. He’s curious and concerned and confused. When he realizes he forgot to speak formally, he bows in apology. “I’m sorry, President-nim.”

“Sometimes a 'connection' isn’t what you wanted,” you say after a moment, sitting back down in your desk chair.

Gunwook swallows from beside you, taking a few steps back to the front of your desk. “I’ll help as best as I can, President-nim. I’ll do my work so that you can do yours.”

You blink back at him, a bit speechless. “O-... Okay.”

He bows, another 90 degree one. “Should I get started on these then, President-nim?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding slowly. “Yes. That would be good.”

Gunwook nods. “Thank you, President-nim,” he says, turning and walking towards the door.

“Gunwook-sshi,” you call suddenly, causing the young man to let go of the door handle in his hand and turn around. His eyes are wide as he waits patiently for you to continue. “Why did you apply for this job? Besides the fact that your mother works here.”

The boy smiles, answering simply, “I thought I would be a good fit.”

You exhale a laugh, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see.”

Gunwook’s smile turns to a grin as he nods again-- walking out the door and closing it behind him.

The end of the work day comes surprisingly quickly (and it may or may not have something to do with Gunwook).

Okay, it has everything to do with Gunwook.

To your very pleasant surprise, the teenage boy had been your best assistant yet by a considerable margin. All in the span of six hours, he’d color-coded your weekly schedule, ghostwritten five urgent emails to executives from partner companies, brought you your lunch order exactly how you prefer it, and reorganized your entire desk for you all while you painted next to him.

He didn’t ask you any unnecessary questions or disturb your peace; he just did his work so that you could do yours. Just like he said he would.

The end of the day came so quickly that when Gunwook knocked on your door to ask you if you were heading out for the day, you thought he was making one of his insulting-but-somehow-also-charming remarks about your lack of presidential work ethic again. But glancing at the clock, you see that he’s right-- it’s almost 7 P.M.

“I’m actually gonna keep working for a little while longer,” you respond before you catch Gunwook’s eyebrows raise. “You can go home now though. You have to be well-rested for another day of high school tomorrow.”

He sticks his tongue in his cheek and smiles at the joke. “I actually go to university now, President-nim. Part-time, but still.”

You find yourself trying to picture what Gunwook would look like on a campus: a grey hoodie, jeans, and his hair flopping into his eyes. In another life, one where you had a different father, maybe you’d still be going to university, too. Maybe you would've run into Gunwook and been his sunbae instead of the Guinness World Records holder for youngest president of a national corporation. Would you have noticed each other? Would you have been friends? Rivals? Something else?

Returning his smile, you dismiss, “Have a good night, Gunwook-sshi.”

“Have a good night, President-nim.”

You work on your painting for another hour before finally gathering your things and heading out the door for the night. On your way out, you see Secretary Lee typing away at her desk. When she spots you, she grimaces nervously.

“Oh, President-nim,” she greets as you walk over to her. “I hope you’re not too upset, but I thought that my son could--.”

“Could be the best assistant I’ve ever had?” You finish for her; watching as her face relaxes at your compliment. “You were right. And you better keep up the good work, Secretary Lee: Gunwook-sshi would make a great secretary.”

Secretary Lee swallows and nods at the hint of a threat. “Understood, President-nim.”

You smile, starting to head toward the exit before your curiosity stops you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to call, “Secretary-nim?”

She looks at you expectantly; if not also a bit nervously.

“Why did Gunwook-sshi want to be my assistant?”

She considers for a moment before replying, “After your... poor luck... with assistants these past few months, I couldn’t help but think my son had what it takes to change that. He’s always been such an overachiever. But he wasn’t really interested at all at first."

“Why did he change his mind?” You ask; wanting to understand a bit more about the incredibly competent, but slightly odd assistant that showed up at your office today.

Secretary Lee laughs quietly. “Well, to be honest... He only handed me his completed application after...

... I showed him a picture of you.”

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