#it’s actually been so long since i’ve drawn them i should do that again sometime | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wildhosh · 1 year

Note

for the ask game id love to know about svt, enha & p1h!! you can pick and choose too i don't mind lmao 💗💗💗

YAY these were so fun to answer and i ramble so much i’m sorry for all the extra info i just love to talk about myself and my love for these groups <33

for svt:

★ my first bias: joshua!! when i was in middle school i loved him so bad. still do but he’s not high up on my list anymore.

★ my current bias(es): HOSHI !! <3 (=^ェ^=), dokyeom is a notable second place though, i am very much in love with him as well.

★ my album and/or era ranking (or favorite of each): my favorite albums are definitely the more recent ones which surprises me since i’m usually more attached to the earlier works of any artists. face the sun and attacca are definitely my favorites. i love those albums so bad. THAT BEING SAID… i think my favorite era is either pretty u or thanks era. both have such sentimental value for me and got me through incredibly hard times so i’m forever indebted to them. additional info: my absolute fav svt songs are shadow, to you, rock with you, heaven’s cloud, lie again, and ash!!

★ how i got into them: i got into them during mansae era but it was so long ago i don’t even remember specifics. it was definitely a youtube discovery, i probably just found their stuff in a recommended section LOL. it’s been off and on since then though!

★ which member would be my best friend: i would pick hoshi or dokyeom but i tend to see them more romantically as well as platonically but if we’re talking entirely platonic best friendship, i think dino would be my best friend!! although i would catch feelings for him for sure

★ something i associate with them (or with a bias/any member): early mornings when it’s dark outside and i can barely get out of bed because the air is so cold (reminds me of when i woke up at 4am to watch the thanks mv the moment it came out), tigers (i have a small tiger collection forming in my room and wardrobe because of my hoshi <3), and my 9th grade drawing class (i used to open up a separate tab on my laptop and listen to mvs while i worked, most notably lilili yabbay and the other unit songs from teen age)

for enha:

★ my first bias: jay!! i’ve always loved him. there was something about him at the beginning that just stuck with me!

★ my current bias(es): honestly, i’m still figuring it out. i love jay so much i really really do but i also find myself really drawn to jungwon, i think i hold back because i’m older than him so it feels a bit weird (idk if it’s actually weird but i just sometimes feel like i should be really careful with boundaries). and i also love heeseung!! i’m incredibly attracted to him. but yes for now, my bias is still jay. coming back to this question from the other questions because Yes my bias is jay i cannot stop thinking about him

★ my album and/or era ranking: i’m honestly being really slow working my way through their discography. there is still a good handful of songs and music videos i haven’t seen yet. however, i loveeee given-taken. that song got me through this fall semester; it seriously never gets old. recently though, i’m obsessed with fever. heeseung’s adlibs? don’t get me started.

★ how i got into them: i had only been back into kpop for a month or two when i got into enhypen. i had pretty much been on a year long break from kpop unintentionally and my life was literally terrible but that’s a story for another time but i got back into kpop through ateez in the summer of 2022. i think that’s how enhypen ended up on my youtube recommended. i literally had not heard any of their music but i had heard of them and that people loved them, so when “so so fun” came up, i watched it! and i fell in love with them. i started watching i-land that night. it was instalove fr.

★ which member would be my best friend: i feel like sunoo is such a classic answer bc i think a lot of ppl friendzone him LOL but i do think we would be really good friends BUT i think niki would be my best friend <3 i just think he’s perfect and our humor and values seem to match up so well

★ something i associate with them: walking to campus for my painting class in the heat and humidity (i used to listen to given-taken on repeat for the 15 min walk hehe), my apartment bedroom (watching i-land on my tv, the pictures of jungwon on my walls, …. self explanatory), books (i think about jungwon and sunoo reading on the bench in so so fun almost every time i read outside)

for piwon:

★ my first bias: theo!! he caught my eye almost instantly. he’s so pretty and kinda tsundere so i was drawn to him

★ my current bias(es): INTAK!! i love him so bad. i want him to be my boyfriend so incredibly bad. he’s just a boy idk something about him feels so authentic. he feels like someone i would meet in class and i love that. the whole group are bias wreckers tbh but i think jiung and theo are the main challengers for the bias position, but i’m so head over heels for intak i don’t think he’ll budge.

★ my album and/or era ranking: i am still new to p1h so i haven’t done a full deep dive into their discography yet, but i am obsesseddd with back down. i’ve watched the dance practice at least 15 times in the past two days because the song and choreo are just so fun. i also love doom du doom and scared eras though!! so far from everything i’ve heard it’s allll no skip i love it

★ how i got into them: i have honestly only been into them for like two weeks now!! my first bit of p1h content was the clip of keeho picking the outfit for that girl on youtube and i thought it was cute and funny LOL so yeah keeho reels and little clips are what got me into them. but i think the thing that really did it for me was the fo squad interviews with them! they are the first piece of content i saw other than the keeho vids and they are so fun. comfort videos for me.

★ which member would be my best friend: LOL i don’t want to friendzone any of them but if i had to pick one to be simply platonic i think it would be keeho or jongseob!! i think i would get along so well with either of them and we could have some funnnnn for sure.

★ something i associate with them: um um um honestly nothing comes to mind yet but i love the harmony forest videos and watch the dodgeball and soccer ones often so i think i would say sports in general remind me of them. and american hip hop like kendrick lamar LOL and cup stacking.

#ask game #anna speaks !!#sarah <3 #svt #enha #p1h

6 notes · View notes

finagled · 2 years

Text

absent but busy

life never seems to slow down to let me catch my breath, so ive been busy trying to keep things going!

this has been a hellish year but also a spectacular one in so many ways. my dad’s death has shattered me tbh, im just not the same person i was before he left and life will never ever be the same with him gone. as somebody who already struggles with identity issues, i had a real hard time knowing how in the world i was supposed to keep going without his input and support. he always saw right through me and could point out things about me i wasnt even aware of yet, but he was always spot on, too. bouncing my ideas off of him is how i learned to human. im coming to realize i loved to succeed and experience so i could tell him and listen to how he loved to hear about it. with him gone, ive felt a sense of emptiness with everything.

im trying to hold on to what he’s taught me. he gave me so many lessons on how to be a person, a good person. he played devils advocate so id learn how to fight for what i knew to be true, and to reevaluate my stance if i couldn’t. he taught me how to treat other people, how every stranger deserves kindness. he taught me that you can be wrong, and that sometimes being wrong is a beautiful thing, because then you learn what’s right. he taught me nothing is worth sacrificing your morals.

the answer to where to find this person now is that now, i have to be this person. the only way for those things about him to live on is if i perpetuate them in my own life. im trying so hard to do this. its not going easy. im told over and over again that im smart, that i work hard, that im good with people, and yet my success has not materialized no matter what i’ve done to secure it. i think, if i just had mental health care and meds, if i could just see a doctor, then id be so great. but i can’t think like that. whether that’s true or not and that’s the only thing in the way between me and living like i feel like im meant to, it doesn’t matter. trying to get government assistance, at least in this state, feels impossible. i dont have the energy to keep hoping they’re going to help. im frustrated to come to the conclusion that i am going to have to metaphorically “pick myself up by the bootstraps” and find a way to push forward in the meantime.

i know im intelligent and have skills that can genuinely and directly help people, because ive done it before. its taken a really long time to have confidence in myself about anything. but i need to start, and then do something with it, because im wasting time waiting for help to arrive.

this is a big ol ramble but it feels good to have the energy to write stuff up. vari and i have been working real hard this past year trying to get the house and our lives set up in a way that will set us both up for success. we’re slowly getting a handle on chores and bills, and our mental health is improving. im slowly pulling all the tangled yarn apart in my brain and getting things sorted.

they took me off adderall and onto strattera, which i actually dont mind. ive heard the medication can precipitate manic episodes in bipolar individuals though, so i wonder if i like it because of that. im depressed so often and its been so long since hypomania, that i really done mind when i wake up with the excess energy and vigor. it doesnt feel extreme like hypomania, more like just having gusto for the day. ill have to keep an eye on it more since its only been about three weeks, but im grateful i havent lost much progress from getting off adderall. the side effects aren’t nearly as powerful either, which is nice.

so im trying. i have too many people i should be getting back to with messages so if youre one of them, im sorry. theres a million things going on and only so much energy each day, but ive drawn up some routines that i hope will encourage me to do more stuff throughout the day other than just chores and sims ;)

thanks to anyone for reading :3

#radcurio

1 note · View note

stardustshimmer · 23 days

Note

*clicks pen*

So, my dearest buddy pal Stardust, I’ve got myself a couple questions for you!:

16, though with a little tweak or two to the question! We all know what fandoms you draw for, so I’m curious outside of that! Anything in particular you draw that has no association with a preestablished fandom?

and 24! (Not shameful per say, but anything in your artistic past that has you suffer internally when looking back at, but a nostalgic suffering nonetheless)

Okay, this is gonna be a long one!

1- I drew a lot when I was in elementary school, just typical drawings of my favorite characters from movies and shows I liked and doodles of me hanging out with family and such, in notebooks with pictures of puppies or kitties on them. Yknow, stuff a little kid would usually draw. But I dropped it for a while once I came to the sense that I really couldn't get better at it. I decided to take on art again once I reached middle school and saw how good my new friends were at drawing. But I dropped that too. I took up digital art only 2 or 3 years ago, and once I gained a love for video games, they've been my biggest drawing motivation ever since. So boom. stardustshimmer origin story.

2- Tumblr is the only art related site I ever signed up for, and it wasn't even my original intention to start posting art, but I'm glad I broke out of my little shell.

3- I still have my old elementary school notebook drawings from years ago, but I really don't feel like digging through my room for them (I'm not even at home as I'm typing this), so here's my first attempt at a digital drawing (you've seen this before I think, Chaos):

Not entirely terrible, but definitely not something I'm extremely proud of. Moving on-

4- I always try to make my art style expressive, cartoony, and squishy, something that'll make people go "omg that's so cute!" Also, you will rarely see me work with any other types of colors besides pastel or bright (neon???) ones.

8- My favorite piece? This is definitely up there for me:

I just love the way each character came out. Also the colors are, like, so edible. LOOK AT YOSHI. AAJSHDHDDHS.

10- What I like most about my art is just the way certain characters look when I draw them, especially when I give them a silly little expression. Also, poses are like, my main thing. I have to put a character in some kind of interesting pose, like I did with the work above for example. Sort of.

16- I don't think I've ever drawn for any other fandom besides Kirby or Mario, but I think I should expand further. I've drawn Amy Rose once, and I've had some people tell me Sonic characters would look great in my style, so I just have to give that a try sometime! A few other fandoms I have in mind are Deltarune, TADC (although I have actually made a few pieces for that, I just now remembered!) Pizza Tower, Animal Crossing, perhaps Rhythm Heaven?? The possibilities are endless. (I may or may not have misread that whole question idk-)

24- No, I don't think I have a "shameful art past," really. I never took art that seriously for me to want to do anything like trace or recolor things. Although I recall how I used to trace over random spongebob frames once I figured out how tracing worked. But that was just for fun. Other than that, not really.

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I APPRECIATE IT. I love rambling.

#stardust's mystical mailbox

1 note · View note

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day.

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.”

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

pastelpaperplanes · 3 years

Text

Big Ol Ask Post Pt. 3 I think

I haven’t drawn anything other than cursed or plain technical stuff w him 😔😔 have these for now but expect more soon!

anon a way back asked what he’d look like next to Overlord being already so big compared to Megs, that’s why you see Lordie if you’re wondering why he’s thrown in that line up!

by the way I have a voice claim for the big purple simp— Jenner from NIMH, he’s so awful but that suave baritone oh it fits too well >:] it’s the ‘humble servant’ line that got to me

Yep! Pharma is absolutely in this AU—as well as the CFau and Crack one too—and in all, he’s still an estranged medic long since booted from any legal work back on Cybertron.

He lost his credibility and more all those years ago when he found himself willing to do his fair share of cutting corners and hastily concealed malpractice to expedite his dream of getting his name down in the medical books—ultimately impressing his dear Mentor Ratchet, finally, in perfecting long-since banned risky experiments and surgeries—not to mention cruel and unusual temperament with the (supposedly) taboo practice of non-medicinal mnemosurgery.

His ambitions and aggression always got the bet of him, this hasn’t changed since he found himself working in freelance outposts. Light years away from Cybertron, he’s made a name for himself as a Good Doctor—but to his under-the-table black market part-dealing clients, he’s just about as bad as a Crooked Medic can get.

Bounty hunters and Arms Dealers like him for his business, a certain DJD member likes him for the occasional berth company and seemingly never ending supply of fresh T-Cogs—but no one actually likes him for his nasty temperamental personality, save for a young and naive Ratchet once upon a time.

Pharma is a roamer, as of recent he’s been a hard to reach mech—seems as if he’s found a little project to keep himself pretty occupied in the last few decades—something about a breakthrough for aiding the Decepticon Energon Crisis :] him and a small, horrifyingly cheerful surgeon are well on their way to completing their first trial batches, it’s safe to say that their little synthetic mixture will have it’s users sated and compliant.

they’ve got that amazing ‘new car smell’ those first few weeks, and instead of chittering like an Insecticons or vibrating their wings like a seeker—they beep and squeak, sometimes even honk a horn depending on the baseline altmode coding, to get their Creators’ attention before their vocalizer truly starts to kick online

It’s cute, but loud

Much like a seeker sparkling, they have to reach a certain ‘age’ (upgrade) to be able to transform completely, in between then they’re still able to rev those engines as a warning should they need it, as well as spin their wheels should they need a getaway HEELIES IF THEYRE LUCKY WOOHOOOOO—for seekers they can hover on their thrusters!

Crusade is actually pretty formal with Megatron. But yeah as a kid, Megs was always known as Carrier, but as Sadie got older and more aware of their surroundings—they definitely came to learn the true weight of that title and the fact that they were the progeny of the faction leader, a fact they should have really held onto with more pride. Not wanting to draw more attention to the already blatant favoritism (and nepotism) Crusade made a switch to addressing Megatron as Sir, My Lord, Lord Megatron, —ect. to better fit in with their fellow troops.

It bothers Megatron more than than he lets on. Crusade shouldn’t have to hide their high ranking as his child, the heir to the faction. Megs is their Carrier and can only order them around for so long, as their Leader however—pulling rank may just allow for their infuriatingly stubborn sparkling to listen to them should a day come where even a Carrier’s plea is dismissed.

Crusade does slip up every now and then and a ‘Carrier’ will slip—often hushed and annoyed though as Megs does like to tease every now and then, gotta remind them that they’re still his baby every once in a while :’)

Optimus however—whenever him and Crusade should truly reunite, will never be called Sire by Crusade, which they so heatedly established early on—Crusade never needed one and they don’t need one now, better to not let the title trigger those long-suppressed emotions. Sure enough though Optimus will get his moment.

actually no lmfao so you’re good! Eh, I haven’t mentioned much plot w them outside of them and Megs, plus bits of potential interactions with Optimus—so the rest of Team Prime is free game :D

For what I (hopefully will have) planned, their interactions with team Prime will be eh,,,interesting to each their own to say the least. Some more stressful than others BUT let’s not get into that until I’ve worked it out—for now I’ll just mention what they’re dynamics would be like when the drama of Oh Shit Boss Bot You’ve Been Hiding a Kid For HOW LONG has died down.

A usually touch-wary Crusade actually is the one to initiate a hug with Bulkhead, he’s the biggest and warmest and somehow is always happy to see them. Plus he tells cool recaps of Earth films and gifts them strange blobish paintings every now and then, all of which Crusade doesn’t exactly understand, but at least the colors are pretty.

Bee is annoying,,,which is what Crusade would say if confronted if they actually liked all the shenanigans Bee suggest they pull together, prank wars to the max, sparring for fun, video games?, DOUGHNUTS and RACES in the fortress halls??? Ahem. they are a super serious soldier, not a hooligan. But honestly, Bee is the one they seek out the most should they need an adventure, they missed out on a lot of this ‘fun’ growing up on the Nemesis—Bee seems to know how to balance a day of soldiering and dumbassery. sometimes.

Ratchet reminds them a bit too much of their Carrier than they’d care to admit. The medic is an old soul to his very core, perpetually tired but quick to snap into work mode, and sweet if you reallllllly squint. Sadie has been taught from day one to always respect medics, Ratchet obviously takes the cake on I’ve Seen Some Shit and for that alone Crusade both fears and admires Ratchet. Again, growing up on the Nemesis they didn’t have too many bots willing to talk much with them—but Ratchet (after he’s gone through his own lot of therapy, him AND Arcee. good lord) has a never ending pile of stories to share with them. Ratchet may throw in a few more colorful curses than necessary—which is SURPRISING bc Crusade thought they’d heard them all back home, but he’s entertaining and tells Crusade how it is, no sugarcoating. For that Crusade is grateful, there’s been too many half-truths thrown about to them in their recent years :’)

Ghost Prowl freaks them out—why does he deliberately have to be so sneaky?? Crusade has only met Prowl a fleeting handful of times (visits from the Allspark come with meaning, you know) and each time Crusade has been given nothing but odd riddles and poetic nonsense. Kidding. Prowl does like his wordplay’s but his given advice is always well meaning—the most firm and direct message Crusade has been passed though was probably most definitely “ Get those two cowards for mecha you call your Creator’s to stop fooling around with each other and SPEAK—at this rate it’s physically paining me that they haven’t begun Ritus and they’re not getting any younger”

Team Prime adores Sadie, they ask Megatron to see their sparkling photos every chance they catch him. And Crusade. hates it.

:) have

We’ve been here before, haven’t we?

#my art #cybertron’s legacy au #transformers #megop #lots to unpack #tarn is big and purple and very much a sip for megatron this has been established #simp*#also he’s HUUGE #Pharma has a nice role in this au but mostly it’s some other rouge cons #mostly dear Trepan and his big bully of a husband >:3 #WE GOT SOME HOMAGE TO TFP HELL YEAHHHHHHHH GET READY. it’s gonna be darker for sure but ohohoohohooo can’t wait #Sadie is to OLD to call their mom Carrier UGH.#very sad and very much not true #but the title is still there and every now and then a ‘Carrier’ will be thrown out #team prime all would love Sadie #it would take a min for Sadie to warm up but they’ll fit right in :) little band of misfits #and finally #a re draw of one of my fav megop peices ive done #look how far they’ve come 😭😭#tfa tarn #tfa Pharma #tfa trepan #tfa megop #transformers animated #tfa optimus prime #tfa megatron

617 notes · View notes

h0neypjm · 3 years

Text

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?”

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.”

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.”

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding.

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.”

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh”

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together.

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown.

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time.

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue.

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered.

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.”

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock.

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue.

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt.

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.”

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion.

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves.

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery.

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon.

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length.

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

#ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bangtanuniversity #bangtansorciere #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #jimin #jungkook #seokjin #hoseok #namjoon #yoongi #h0neypjm #mine

2K notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

241 notes · View notes

proserpina-magnus · 3 years

Text

Regulus Black dating a muggleborn

word count: 2863

[ warning; gender neutral reader, mention of death, description of crying, angst, no happy fucking ending, swearing, mention of lap sitting (none sexual), kissing, awkward teen love, regulus is kind of edgy and a dick sometimes ]

Fanon Regulus, not Canon. This doesn't line up with anything canon! So please do not take this seriously.

- Did I say dating? I meant secretly dating.

- Regulus spotted you studying alone at a table in The Three Broomsticks, he just couldn't hide the part of him that felt an intriguing feeling towards you.

- He asked a few people around, nudging them and gesturing towards you, asking a small "who are they?"

- It took him a few days to finally get someone to answer him and once he knew your name, he knew he'd fallen into a rabbit hole. he couldn't stop thinking about you, his mind twirling around your name in a constant spiral.

- Luckily, you had been partnered with him for a potions assignment. he couldn't talk to you, he couldn't even mutter a "hi" he was so nervous.

- He had never felt this nervous feeling in his stomach, it was coming to the point it was drowning him.

- Finally, the next day during potions he was able to gain enough courage and actually talk to you about the project, though his voice sounded so mellow and drawn out, like honey.

- He didn't try to engage in conversation other than the assignment, so when you offered that you and him could go to the library and do a bit more research, he said yes almost immediately.

- You both decided to go after dinner since the library wasn't as filled in the evening.

- So when he came back to his dorm after eating, he tried to change into something more casual than his school uniform. it took him a good 15 minutes to pick what he deemed was fit for the occasion.

- He was just about ready to step out the door with his books until his dormmate said something that caught his interest.

- "you're meeting up with your potions partner, arent you?"

- "Yeah, why?'

- "Nothing, it's just their a mudblood, you shouldn't be hanging around those types of people"

- "oh... I didn't know they were a... mudblood"

- 'yeah, nasty they are. you should just ditch 'em"

- So regulus did, he ditched you. he felt guilty, leaving you all alone in the library. you must had thought he was another pureblood prick.

- His conclusion was right, you waited for a good thirty minutes for him. When you realized he wasn't coming, you just decided to do the whole project yourself, it was better if you could just get this stupid assignment done yourself so you'd both could go your separate ways.

- The next day when he got to potions class, he saw you pass in a report to Professor Slughorn. He felt his stomach drop, he knew well enough you had finished the assignment last night without him.

- After class, he caught up with you, pulling you aside as he watched you stare up at him blankly.

- "what?" you had asked him, a hand on your hip as you gave an annoyed sigh.

- "I'm sorry I ditched you, I just didn't know you were a... muggle-born" he admitted, looking anywhere but your eyes as he caught a few of Slytherin boys looking at the two of you.

- "whatever, Black"

- " you didn't have to do the whole assignment, I would have helped you."

- Your eyes met the Slytherin boys who were watching you both, you gave a pitiful frown.

- " don't worry about it, I get it. next time, just tell the professor you don't want to work with me. don't lead me on for a stupid joke"

- He didn't get to explain himself as he watched you walk away, he felt horrible. he had never felt this deep connection to someone before, it made his heart sink when he watched you turn the corner.

- A few months pass, he hadn't gotten another opportunity to talk to you again. he felt like an idiot, he had a chance and he completely blew it,

- Late at night, regulus would stare at his ceiling and dream about what would happen if he had just done what he wanted if he had gone to finish the assignment with you. You both would meet up, exchange dislikes and likes, talk about your dreams for the future.

- He couldn't focus on quidditch, it was coming more frequent of his team captain yelling at him.

- Luckily, he had gotten another opportunity to talk to you again. both of you were selected to be a part of the slug club. Regulus was going to say no, but when he heard your name get mentioned, he joined.

- The first dinner party of slug club, was like a dream. his eyes scanned over your outfit and how it looked absolutely pleasing on your body. his eyes kept siding over to where you sat and when you caught him, he would just look away.

- After a few more meetings, he was done with the 'whole looking away whenever you looked at him' , there were only a few more months of Hogwarts left. his eyes met yours and he didn't look away, he gave a smile.

- When you had smiled back, he couldn't help but smile a bit wider, his cheeks glowing with a red flame.

- The next meeting, you had sat next to him. it didn't take long until you both had been exchanging words and stories, laughing at jokes and giving each other shy looks.

- After a dinner meeting during slug club, Regulus offered to walk you back to your house common room. (if you are in Slytherin, then he would just walk with you till you both had to go separate ways to your dorm).

- Once you arrived at your destination, it was awkward. He looked anywhere but you, his face was hot with red as he began to get flustered.

- You had said a quiet goodbye, turning to head back to your dorm but he grabbed your hand. Holding you back as he stiffened up and asked you out.

- "will you go out with me? This weekend, it's a Hogsmeade trip, I'll pay." His words were hard, but his body language was a complete mess.

- "you're not gonna ditch me again are you?"

- "no, defiantly not ." His words had still been raw and hard, he felt like he was going to throw up butterflies.

- "I'm a muggle-born, I heard you purebloods don't really like us very much. This kind of seems like a set-up"

- God you hoped it wasn't a set-up, ever since you've sat next to regulus at the slug club meetings, he had stolen your heart.

- "It might become an issue for some... people, but it doesn't bother me much"

- Regulus was defiantly not good at phrasing things, especially romantic feelings.

- You didn't take his words too seriously, you debated for a minute. You wanted to go with him, it felt like every nerve was alive.

- "Alright, one date couldn't hurt" with your words, you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

- "goodnight Regulus" ... and then you had disappointed out of his view. Once you reached your dorm, you screamed into your pillow with excitement.

- The date went well, you both had gone to the three broomsticks sticks and sat at a table near the very back.

- You had talked about everything you could, Though he made sure to stay away from the conversation of his family. He didn't want to ruin the date by mentioning his pureblood supremacist family. It's sorta a mood killer.

- You both stayed out of busy spots, even hiding and giggling in a bush as his dorm mates passed.

- That was your first kiss with regulus, tangled in bushes and twigs as you heard footsteps fading. His lips were soft, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

- When you pulled away, both of you were flushed and looking towards the soil. He walked you back to Hogwarts, separating ways.

- You both couldn't see each other often, only giving each other looks in class or exchanging waves when passing each other in the hallways.

- It was fine for a few months, though the secret meetings were stressful yet fun. You didn't want to hide anymore, which resulted in your first fight.

- "don't you get it? I can't be seen with you! I've told you about my family. They don't like muggle-borns, this Voldemort guy doesn't either and I can't risk exposing our relationship! You'll get hurt!"

- "I don't care if I get hurt Regulus! Our love shouldn't be hidden because your afraid of what people will think! I'm tired of this sneaking around, I'm sick of it!"

- The fighting continued for minutes, both exchanging hateful words. At one point he had said something very vial, saying he couldn't be seen with someone like yourself.

- "What is that suppose to mean?" You sneered at him, eyes tearing up as your arms crossed over your chest.

- "you know damn well what it means," he said back, quick and hard as he just glared down at you.

- You huffed, turning away as you wiped at your cheek. You turned back, shaking your head at him before disappearing out of the room.

- He stayed in the room for a while, thinking about everything. He was so angry, his veins were about to pop from frustration. He hated his family, he couldn't believe that he would lose the one he loved because of his ratchet mother and father.

- He went to Sirius, which was a first in forever. He explained everything to him, he told him how he was sneaking around with a muggle-born and how he didn't want to stop loving you.

- Sirius smirked, thinking he had finally gotten Regulus to betray their spoiled family. Sirius talked his ear off, telling him that he was glad he was gonna change himself and come join the hated family member club.

- Regulus didn't just want to leave the family, he wanted revenge.

- He disregarded Sirius, telling him to piss off and leave him alone for a while.

- The end of 6th year was coming up and Regulus wasn't given any chance to speak to you. He knew damn well you both hadn't separated, just fought. Though he laid in bed at night and worried so hard he thought his brain was gonna rot.

- On the train, he made sure to pull you into a compartment with just you and him. Shutting the blinds so no one will disturb you both.

- "Regulus I don't want to talk to you"

- "I can't meet with you or write to you all summer, I'm not putting up with this break anymore. I only have 2 hours with you and I'm not wasting it."

- "aren't you afraid you're gonna be spotted with me?" ... Regulus wasn't quite good at sarcasm (HA! As if) but he knew well enough from the tone of your voice that you weren't too happy.

- Regulus sighed hard, watching you look out the window as you played with the bottom of your shirt; tucking it in and out of your skirt/trousers (or whatever you're comfortable in).

- "I'm going to do something crazy over the summer break and I don't know if it's going to work but all I know is if I can protect you, I will."

- "regulus what are you talking about?" You asked, you felt worry build up in your stomach. You reached out, grabbing his hand.

- He instantly interlocked your fingers together, he moved to your side as he stared deep into your eyes. His eyes always looked so cold, but right now in this moment, they felt warm.

- "I love you, honestly, if I could marry you right now I would"

- He denied to speak about what he said before, he didn't give you any more information.

- Halfway through the ride, you had been positioned on his lap. His arms looped around your waist as his head rested in the crook of your neck. He let you play with his hands.

- " I love you too" you mumbled in the quiet atmosphere. Regulus held you tighter at the words.

- "hmm?" He hummed, wanting you to say those words again.

- " you told me you loved me, I didn't say it back. But I do love you regulus, I love all of you."

- Regulus felt himself smiling, he couldn't stop the wide grin as he nudged his head into yours lovingly.

- "I can't wait to see you after the summer break" you whispered to him, kissing his forehead as you felt the train start to slow down.

- Dread filled the empty spaces as you hugged each other as tight as possible, not wanting to let go.

- "it's alright, I'll see you after summer. I promise" he whispered into your ear, before bringing your lips to his and kissing one last time.

- The kiss felt like fireworks, there was so much longing and passion mixed into it you didn't want it to end.

- Sadly, the kiss ended and regulus soon disappeared in the crowd of people.

- That summer, regulus had gotten the death mark, he reeked of anger and emptiness. All he wanted was to see you again, to hold you in his arms and kiss you until you both couldn't breathe.

- He had gotten close to Voldemort, he played all the deatheaters with his fake words and praises. He had learned about Voldemort's Horcruxes.

- Regulus had sat at dinner, fork pressed into his hand as he thought hard. His love for you was so strong, he would kill for it.

- He counted down the days until summer break would end.

- 2 more weeks.... 13 days... 11 days... 8 days...

- On the 7th day before September 1st, his plan came to action. He would destroy Voldemort's Horcrux and defeat him and after, he would live 7th year in peace.

- Though his plans didn't come to a win. It stormed and rages of rain came upon him as he made his way to the cave. All he could hear was his heartbeat and the sound of rain outside, along with the padding of Kreacher feet.

- He could hear his breath, his eyes casting over every edge and dark spot. He smiled, he was going to do it, he was going to defeat Voldemort.

- "Whatever I say Kreacher, don't listen. Just keep feeding me the water"

- Kreacher grumbled, "of course, sir"

- "for you love, all for you" regulus whispered before dipping the shell into the crevasse, bringing it to his lips as he took a sip.

- Drinking the liquid felt like poison, regulus had to fight himself to not throw it up.

- The liquid was almost gone, but Kreacher had to take regulus place and force-feed him. Regulus was begging and thrashing, saying whatever came to mind.

- Regulus couldn't finish the drink, weird slimy skeletons climbed from the water surrounding them. Regulus was in a horrid state he couldn't even tell.

- When Kreacher finally force-feed him the last of it, regulus mind came to stillness. His limbs too weak, but he was able to understand that the weird-looking skeletons were not friends.

- "Kreacher, take the Horcrux and go! Hide it! Try anything to destroy it! Go!" He had yelled out, voice dry and strangled.

- Kreacher had to obey by request, he snapped his fingers and disappeared with the Horcrux.

- Regulus tried to fight, his wand shook in his hand as he casts spells after spells. It worked for a few minutes, but there was only one of him and so many of them.

- Regulus was pulled into the water, he kicked and thrashed in spite of trying to get loose. He couldn't swim even if he escaped, his eyes stared through the muddy water as his lungs filled with it.

- Regulus thought of you, your smile, the first time you kissed him, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly, the way you would send him kind eyes whenever he passed you in the halls.

- He sank, and of course his body was dead, but his mind was still there. He was barely conscious enough, but he was there. His body limp and rotten as the years pass.

- His disappearance travelled fast, you had heard first on the train.

- The first years had wondered why a a 7th year was weeping so bad that they couldn't even stand properly.

- You shook hard, gasping and not even trying to grab anything as you sank to the floor of the train. You couldn't care that people were giving you looks, your boyfriend was gone.

- Regulus was gone.

#regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black smut #regulus black headcanon #regulus black imagine #regulus black oneshot #marauder x reader #marauder x you #regulus black x reader smut #marauder era #marauders headcanon #sirius black #regulus black x gender neutral reader #marauders headcanons #regulus black x reader headcanons #marauders angst #marauder angst #marauders era angst

546 notes · View notes

there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Contact Comfort

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: None, really? Emotional hurt/comfort and sorta like a touch starved deal doing on, but it’s pretty thoroughly fluffy and sugary-sweet.

A/N: For the “bed sharing” square on my @cmbingo card!

Title is from the referenced psych study, because I’m a dork.

“One sec,” you call, wincing at how thick and nasal your voice sounds.

You wipe your cheeks hastily as you sit up. It’ll be obvious anyway, though; wouldn’t take a profiler to notice your tear tracks and blotchy face.

It’s Spencer. Of course it is — because he’s the last person you want to see you like this, when you’re all snotty and puffy and gross.

His eyes go wide and solemn when he sees your face, genuinely distressed. There’s that empathy again, the too-big heart that everyone seems to overlook in favor of his big brain. You love him for it.

Well, you love him for a lot of things.

“Hi,” he says quietly. “I was going to just ask if you were okay, but… I guess I don’t actually need to ask now.”

You let out a watery little chuckle. “Guess not.”

“You want some company?” He looks hopeful, almost, and then seems to catch himself, dropping his gaze with a shrug. “I understand if you just want your space, though.”

If it was anyone else, you absolutely would not want company right now. But it’s Spencer, so. You pretty much always want him around.

“I was just about to turn on some shitty TV because it felt too quiet in here, honestly. Company would be really nice.”

He gives you a quick twitch of a half-smile as he steps past you, and after you close the door, there’s a pause where you both stand there and look at each other, Spencer suddenly shy as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, in a thin unhappy voice.

“Not really. Just… one of those days. One of those cases.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

You hesitate, because it seems like such an immature thing to say out loud, but you’re too tired to be anything other than honest.

“I could use a hug.”

Spencer’s expression goes all soft and sweet, and your cheeks feel hot under the drying salt water as he steps closer. He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his chest and try to inhale. Your exhale is a ragged little shudder, and you fist both hands in the back of Spencer’s cardigan as you cling to him, feeling raw and sensitive and so very young.

He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of his own, squeezing you tighter.

How long has it been since anybody hugged you like this? It’s like the contact — the warmth of him — the pressure of his arms around your shoulders — the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek — is lifting some massive weight you never realized you were carrying. All you want in the entire world is to hold him tight, take the comfort while you can, but you know you should pull away.

He hesitates for a second before releasing you, like maybe he doesn’t want to let go either.

Then he’s stepping back, hands in his pockets, slightly pink-cheeked as he bounces on the balls of his feet and gives you one of his frog-faced not-quite-smiles.

“You said something about shitty television?” he asks. “Or maybe we could watch some television that’s not actually shitty?”

“That sounds perfect.”

Turns out Planet Earth is on, which is the rare overlap in your and Spencer’s tastes, and it’s not until you’re eagerly toeing off your shoes that you realize the bed is the only seating option.

Spencer sits cross-legged, with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists, and he stays as close to the edge of the bed as physically possible. You lean back against the headboard and hug your knees to your chest, feeling the need to hunch over, like you could physically protect your heart.

Then again, it’s much too late for that. You knew your heart was in trouble the moment you met Spencer.

Today, especially, you already feel vulnerable, like all your carefully-constructed walls cracked open the second you let yourself cry, and now you’re just ripped-open and bare. You need a good night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before you’ll be able to go about your life as a professional, fully-functional, grown-up human again. Right now you’re just kind of a mess.

“I know there’s the germ thing,” you blurt out, without looking at Spencer. “But —”

His laugh sounds crackly and nervous, but relieved, like maybe he’d been holding his breath. “Come here.”

You give him a grateful smile as you scoot closer to each other, and apparently you’d been so worried about your own swollen eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed the fatigue evident in every drawn, wan line of his face.

Not that he isn’t still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

You duck tentatively under Spencer’s arm, and it’s not like you’re cuddling, exactly, because there’s still an inch or so of space between your hips and legs… but the bony plane of his chest, between collarbone and heart, makes a surprisingly perfect pillow. You pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, tucking them under your chin, curling up.

The moment feels delicate, like a soap bubble that you could burst if you simply breathe too loudly, and you hold yourself stiffly, at first, not wanting to move any closer for fear of pushing a boundary. It feels like you’re glowing at the points where your bodies are touching; the warm weight of his arm feels like bright spring sunshine across your upper back. His palm on the round of your shoulder is thawing away the last chilly bits of your self-consciousness.

When the commercial break starts, Spencer says, “Do you ever think about how little physical contact the average single adult experiences on a regular basis?” His voice is quiet and almost sheepish.

You smile. “Yeah, I’ve considered it.”

“Especially when we live away from our families,” Spencer says wistfully.

You can feel the vibration of his words in his chest. You shift, making yourself more comfortable, feeling dazed and dumb with his proximity.

“The monkeys. I feel like — you know?”

“Harlow. I know exactly what you mean.”

Trust him to get that from your ridiculously vague mumbling.

“Except they’re babies,” you add.

“The emotional benefits of physical touch don’t decrease just because we get older,” he says softly. “It’s just that the fear of judgement makes it difficult to be honest.”

There’s silence for a minute as the show starts again, and David Attenborough says something about sloths. Spencer’s thumb strokes your shoulder gently, back and forth, soothing. It’s hypnotic, and the tension drains from your muscles, leaving you more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You swallow hard. “For what?”

“Being honest.”

There’s no reason for your eyes to be stinging like this, but they are. “I should be thanking you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. This is… really nice.”

“Yeah. It really is.”

He’s quiet again.

Spencer smells like vanilla and old books — although the latter might just be your imagination, something to do with the power of mental association — Spencer could probably explain the science behind that. Your brain has them inextricably linked, though. You’ve caught hints of that smell before, but never up close like this.

The softness of the worn knit of his cardigan makes you want to rub your cheek against it like a cat. His arm, skinny as it may be, feels like protection — like you’re safe here.

After the brutal violence of the case and the emotional turbulence of the day, this quiet, golden moment is even more breathtakingly peaceful by contrast. It doesn’t feel real.

It’s too good to last. This isn’t yours. It’s not going to last, no matter how right it feels, and your chest already aches with the idea of letting him go.

You try to appreciate it while you can, to remember every sensation, but your body is leaden, exhausted down to the bone, completely drained of whatever adrenaline-stubbornness-caffeine combination was keeping you running until now. Spencer’s thumb rubs invisible circles on your shoulder, and he breathes evenly, and you feel safe.

You’re asleep before the next commercial break.

A distant car alarm wakes you, sometime later. In the handful of seconds before it’s turned off, you come to without opening your eyes, trying to remember where you are and who you’re with. The smell of vanilla makes you relax instinctively, before you can process why.

Spencer has all but melted against you in his sleep, soft and boneless. He’s got both arms around you now, holding you close, his breath tickling your forehead. Then he stirs, and you can feel the moment he realizes where he is, because his muscles go tense as he freezes.

“Sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely. He’s barely audible over the infomercial voices coming from the TV. “I didn’t mean to — sorry. I’ll go.”

And before you can think better of it, you whisper, “Don’t.”

He’s still frozen, and silent for a second that feels like an eternity. “You mean —”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay.”

Honesty seems to be your default setting tonight, and anyway, you can tell without looking at a clock that it’s long past midnight, well into the early-morning hours where boundaries and reservations and reality don’t seem to follow their usual laws. You can’t lie to him (or to yourself) right now.

Spencer’s voice cracks as he says, “Okay. I’ll just — let me get the light.”

You don’t open your eyes as he slips away. This all seems like a dream, and the sharp bright lamp light might make it dissolve around you. You might wake up.

The TV goes quiet, and when you tug at the hotel comforter, sliding between cool sheets fully clothed, the barely-there rasp of moving fabric sounds loud in its absence.

Spencer turns off the lamp, and you open your eyes. You can just see his shape as he navigates the dark room, negative space on a charcoal backdrop, but as your vision adjusts, you can see a faint suggestion of his features in the blue-black.

You feel it, though, when his weight makes the springs of the old mattress dip. You’d expected him to lie on his back again, but instead his face is just inches from yours when his cheek comes to rest on the pillow. You feel the way he’s breathing, quick and shallow and nervous. You feel your heart kick in your ribs, thudding so loud he must be able to hear it.

He reaches out slowly, hooking an arm around your ribs, and pauses with just the very tips of his spidery fingers touching your back, between your shoulder blades: five soft points of contact that you feel so intensely they might as well be electrode pads connecting you to a defibrillator.

This is crossing a line, and you both know it.

It’s not a sexual touch, it’s not that sort of thrill going through you, but something about this feels profoundly intimate. That intimacy is almost more shocking than lust might’ve been, and it’s much more dangerous. It’s the sort of closeness you don’t walk away from unscathed.

Spencer’s fingers flutter, butterfly-wing delicate, like one or the other of you might be trembling.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

Maybe you’re both trembling.

His palm comes to rest on your back, easing you closer, and you shift, settle, readjust. He pulls back and tilts his head just long enough to brush his lips over your temple, soft and sweet, before tucking you neatly under his chin, where you fit like you were meant to be there, with your nose nudging at the gap between his collar and the delicate skin of his throat.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, sounding just as awed as you feel.

“Sweet dreams, Spencer.”

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message!

More Criminal Minds fic is here.

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

611 notes · View notes

lady-literature · 4 years

Text

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are�� fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them.

And they all live happily ever after the end.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #batfam #crime boss mari #miraculous ladybug #dc #mlb x dc #i was possessed by the need to write this all down #i have so many random ass moments from this au #just scenes taht barely fit together #zero coherency #let me know if yall want that ig #?

3K notes · View notes

meruz · 3 years

Text

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

359 notes · View notes

when-they-write-stuff · 4 years

Text

SterekWeek2020: Day Four (Soulmates)

The soulmark appeared on Derek’s skin the day he turned eighteen.

It had been excruciating at first. He’d been in the apartment with Laura grumbling about the store-bought cake she’d picked up, even though he said he didn’t want to celebrate, when he’d felt like his skin was on fire. And Derek wasn’t used to pain. Not like that, at least.

It had taken him back to so many years ago, kneeling in a layer of ash while he watched his childhood home go up in flames. And for the first time, Derek had wondered if this was what it felt like to be burned alive.

But he hadn’t died that day, no matter how much he felt like he deserved it. And when Laura had shaken him awake moments later, a cool cloth pressed against his bare skin, Derek had realized there was a mark left in wake of the pain. One on his back, inked into his skin.

He was lucky, Laura had said after seeing it. Not everyone got a soulmate.

Derek hadn’t felt very lucky.

Kate never had a tattoo. Derek remembered that well enough, from this one night when his skin had been bared to the woman and she’d laughed when he asked. They weren’t meant to be soulmates, Derek knew. But part of him had still hoped.

He and Paige had been too young. And after her death, Derek thought that if it was meant to be, he’d never really know for sure.

So he got his soulmark when he’d turned eighteen. And in the years after that, Derek never came across anyone else with the marking of the Triskelion on their skin. He didn’t really know if he could consider himself lucky for that or not.

But then Stiles Stilinski came along.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles used to have this dream.

From the moment he met Lydia Martin, decided she would one day be his wife, and spent every moment after that thinking about her, he’d had this dream. That one day, they’d get matching soul marks. Tattoos, inscriptions, symbols, whatever. He’d seen it all.

His dad still had the inked-mark that he and Stiles’s mother had shared. It was dull grey now, fading with every day, but it was still there. And Stiles knew that one day, he’d have one too. He didn’t know how exactly he knew, but he did.

Or maybe he just hoped. Hoped so hard that at some point, he’d convinced himself it would happen. He had this dream with Lydia Martin. That one day, they’d be soulmates.

It never happened.

Stiles turned fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and realized that maybe Lydia Martin wasn’t for him. It might’ve all started when Stiles stumbled across a certain angry-eyebrowed werewolf, but he’d never admit that out loud. Because some part of him still clung to his childhood dream; one of red hair and sharp green eyes. Something that was safe, sound, and long before werewolves.

Except after a while, Stiles’s dream changed. It turned into one of grey-green eyes that were sometimes red, sometimes blue, and sometimes gold.

Stiles fell head over heels for eyes that never stayed one color. And his dream changed from red hair to that of raven black, a triskelion marked into the skin of Derek’s back. A tattoo that Stiles caught sight of one day, his heart nearly stopping when he saw it.

Because not everyone got a soulmate. But the soulmark meant that Derek had one.

Stiles was seventeen-and-a-half when he realized that once again, the person he loved could never truly love him back. And he thought he could learn to live with that. Eventually.

Derek didn’t make it easy.

The first time Stiles came home after lacrosse practice to find Derek waiting in his bedroom, he’d nearly committed murder. But it wasn’t his fault that werewolves did creepy things like chill in the dark, okay? And it didn’t help that Stiles would have liked to have Derek in his bedroom on literally any other occasion that didn’t involve possible death.

Which at first, he really thought was going to happen. That the man was actually going to rip his throat out or something.

But instead, Derek had proceeded to give him a list of ‘research needs’ before leaving. Needs which Stiles very nearly threw away, except he liked having a throat, thank you very much.

So he didn’t. And in the days, weeks, and months that came after that, Derek kept showing up. Kept showing up, hanging around for a few moments, and then leaving.

Like an asshole.

Stiles thought it would be so much easier if he could hate Derek as much as the man obviously hated him. Anytime they were stuck in the same situation together, Derek seemed to make sure Stiles understood his distaste. From when they’d first met to any time after that.

And okay, maybe Derek didn’t hate- hate him. Not as much as he used to, anyway. But Stiles was still pretty sure the man might one day rip out his throat. Just because.

It was like the Lydia Martin situation all over again. Stiles was there, Derek was there, and Stiles was so hopelessly pathetic.

Derek didn’t make anything easy.

“You know one day,” Stiles said, when the werewolf swung through his window for the third time that week. “I’m going to be off at college and you’re going to have to look for someone else to be your precious little researcher.”

Derek paused at that, looking confused. Stiles raised an eyebrow and Derek grunted after a moment, moving forward.

“You’ll come back.”

“Oh, really?” Stiles said. “And why would you think that?”

Once more, Derek looked disturbed. “Because it’s you.”

“Dude,” Stiles said. “I’ve got one more year left until I graduate. One more year of supernatural threats appearing literally every other day. Do you really think I plan on sticking around for even more after that?”

Derek just stared.

But Stiles had thought this through, he really had. He already knew his dad wanted him as far away as he could get, though Stiles had been dubious at first. Except then he’d nearly died by a witch curse the day after, and that had made up his mind pretty quickly.

And it wasn’t like his hopeless pining for Derek had anything to do with it all either. Totally not.

In the silence, Derek’s brows had drawn together. Stiles stared at him, a little surprised the man actually expected him to stick around. Because it wasn’t like it would matter if Stiles left. Sure, the pack would lose one mighty grand researcher. The betas would have to go somewhere else when Derek got tired of their teenage angst and kicked them out. And sure, there’d no longer be any easy human bait to lure in the Monster of the Week.

But that’s really all that Stiles was good for.

“Alright then,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What did you bring for me to research tonight?”

Derek gave him a long, silent look, face unreadable. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, earth to Sourwolf?”

“Nothing,” Derek said, turning away. Stiles blinked as the man pulled himself right back out the window, sitting still for a moment before shoving himself up and stumbling after him. But by the time he looked out into the darkness, the roof was empty. So was the lawn.

Stiles blinked again. Then frowned. “Okay then, asshole!”

He didn’t get an answer.

Stiles really didn’t understand Derek Hale sometimes.

So many things had gone wrong in Derek’s life, he really should have expected this to go wrong too.

This being Stiles Stilinski, of course.

In the month after his impromptu visit to Stiles’s bedroom, Derek had been drastically cutting back on seeing the boy. Only when it was really necessary did he show up at Stiles’s window, reverting back to the old days when he’d drop off a list of ‘research needs’ before leaving again.

So many things in Derek’s life had gone wrong. He really just didn’t understand why this would fall into the list.

Because it was Stiles Stilinski. Stiles-hyperactive-skinny-annoying-Stilinski. Derek didn’t exactly hate him, not anymore, at least. Maybe not at all. Not since that one night, at least, when Derek left the Stilinski house feeling a little bit confused and a little bit empty for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

It took him a month to figure out exactly what part of their last conversation had shaken him so.

Stiles was leaving.

One day, Stiles was going to leave Beacon Hills.

Derek didn’t think that mattered until it sunk in one night as he watched the pack gather around the TV for the Friday night movie. His gaze lingered on Stiles and when Derek finally put two-and-two together, realizing this wasn’t going to last forever, that confused and empty feeling came back.

And Derek realized that at some point, he’d fallen in love with Stiles Stilinski.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

Some part of him thought all of that sounded about right. Derek had fallen in love a few times in his life and it never worked out. Well, if ‘not working out’ consisted of having his teenage girlfriend killed and family murdered.

So, of course, it’d be Stiles. Stiles, who Derek couldn’t stand. Stiles, who Derek had never been able to shake.

Stiles, who Derek stared at right now and realized with a pang that he was in love with the idiot.

“Uh, hey, Sourwolf?”

Snapping back to reality, Derek realized Stiles was staring at him. His chest suddenly constricted and he felt like he’d had a mini heart attack, earning a strange glance from Boyd. Clenching his jaw, Derek turned away and glared at the opposite wall, trying to figure out when things had gone wrong and why the hell he was feeling like he was about to claw his way out of his skin.

Lucky, Laura had said once. He was lucky because he had a soulmate somewhere out there.

One that wasn’t Stiles Stilinski.

Before Derek’s heartbeat could betray him any more, Derek turned around and grabbed his keys, starting toward the loft door. Stiles sat straight up as Derek passed him, the boy’s scent flaring with confusion.

“Dude, Derek?”

“I’m going out,” Derek growled, not even turning around. He could feel the others staring at him in confusion.

The door slammed at his back.

And despite it all, Derek barely managed to wait long enough to get outside before he was yanking his shirt over his head and taking off at a run.

Stiles turned eighteen a month before he graduated.

That’s when he woke up to it.

The ink curling around his neck, that is. Stiles went through most of his morning completely unaware, hopping into the shower without glancing into the mirror and stumbling around his room looking for clean clothes afterward. He didn’t even bother to mess with his hair, figuring he was already running late enough as it was.

It wasn’t until Stiles stumbled downstairs and noticed how his dad stared at him like he’d grown two heads, that Stiles realized something was wrong.

“Um, son?”

Stiles blinked at him, but his dad’s attention was fixed solely on his neck. Reaching up unconsciously, Stiles rubbed a hand over smooth skin. “Yeah?”

“Is that a...?”

Stiles stared. Then broke away, stumbling into the bathroom and yanking down the collar of his sweatshirt.

And there it was. Patterns of black ink that curled into three different spirals; a soulmark that Stiles had seen before. But more importantly, a soulmark that Stiles had seen before while being so sure it would never be his own.

For a moment, Stiles just gaped.

Then he had a panic attack.

To be fair, there was a difference between pining over Beacon Hill’s grumpy-growly Alpha werewolf and actually thinking that he stood a chance. Stiles could drool over Derek all he wanted. He’d figured long ago that it would never add up to anything.

And Derek was probably going to kill him for this. Gut him. Rip out his throat before anyone could figure out that Derek Hale was the soulmate of Stiles Stilinski.

He was so dead.

By the time Stiles had finally calmed down, his dad was pounding on the door and saying something that Stiles couldn’t catch. All he could do was stare into the mirror, wondering faintly if he was still asleep and all of this was just a dream.

Derek was going to kill him.

Unless Stiles avoided the man as much as Derek had been avoiding him, that is.

The thought struck him like a blow. Stiles blinked at his own reflection and then cursed, yanking his collar up around the mark. Finally unlocking the door, he stumbled out of the bathroom and did his best to brush off his dad’s questions, head spinning. Because until he could figure this all out, Stiles didn’t even want to think about the mark currently on his skin.

It felt like it was burning, but maybe that was just in his head. And oh god, Derek was so going to kill him. Unless— unless— maybe Stiles could skip town. Or the country. Or something.

He didn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped.

Stiles ditched going to school and avoided the pack’s calls, his mind going in circle after circle. He faintly recalled Scott having said something about him going to the loft that night, but Stiles was too terrified to leave his room.

Instead, he waited until his dad left for work, the man still looking unsatisfied as his eyes stayed glued to Stiles’s neck all the way out the door. Then the moment he was gone, Stiles tore off his shirt and raced back into the bathroom, running his fingers over the triskelion on his neck.

The last spiral stopped just above his collarbone. If Stiles pulled his collar up high enough, it almost hid away the entire tattoo, but standing shirtless in front of the mirror, Stiles could just stare, tracing the soulmark over and over again.

He’d been crushing on Derek Hale for years. Years.

He didn’t think Derek felt the same.

Especially as of late, after the Sourwolf had suddenly stopped showing up at his window. The last straw had been when Derek had stormed out of the Friday movie night three months ago and then proceeded to skip each one after that.

Stiles didn’t know if it was him or just Derek Hale being Derek Hale. But he might as well have been non-existent every time he tried to call or text Derek to find out.

Groaning, Stiles grabbed his shirt and trudged upstairs. This was it. He was going to have to live out of his bedroom until college. He was going to have to wear turtlenecks until graduation. Stiles was never going to be able to go back to the loft ever again.

That was his beginning thought process, at least. But then his window was shoved open.

Stiles yelped and grabbed the nearest blanket, wrapping it around himself tightly. For a moment, he half-expected to see Scott, because he’d been ignoring the boy’s texts all day. But then Derek pulled himself through the window instead.

And Stiles nearly had another panic attack.

As if he could tell, Derek froze. The man still had one leg outside of the window and he pulled himself all the way in carefully, raising his hands in surrender. Stiles just stood there, blanket wrapped around himself, staring in silent alarm.

Derek’s eyes narrowed as they searched his face. And then they went to his neck.

Instantly, Stiles was bunching the blanket up even higher. Derek raised an eyebrow and stepped forward, still staring at that now hidden spot of Stiles’s soulmark.

“Stiles, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What is wro— nothing’s wrong!” Stiles said quickly, retreating a step back. “Absolutely nothing is wrong, big guy. I’m just, um, sick. Very sick.”

Derek stopped, his expression going flat. “You do remember I can hear you lie, right?”

Stiles internally cursed himself. “Of course, I do. But I’m fine.”

“Hm,” Derek said, not looking convinced. “What are you hiding, Stiles?”

And now wasn’t that the million-dollar question? If it weren’t for freaking werewolf hearing, Stiles would have continued lying his ass off. But as it was, meeting grey-green eyes that seemed to look right through him, Stiles just stayed silent. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Scott said he texted you.”

“Yes, Sourwolf, he did. Multiple times.”

“So you know the pack is waiting at the loft, then.”

“For…?”

Derek’s left eye twitched and the man’s ears turned a little red. Stiles blinked, confused for a moment, before nearly choking on his own breath.

“Oh my god,” he said. “I told Scott I was spending my birthday at home!”

“It was the pack’s idea,” Derek defended, folding his arms over his chest. “Not just Scott’s.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Does that include you?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. He didn’t need werewolf hearing to notice how Derek’s face tightened and the man avoided his gaze. “You're lying.”

“I am not.”

“You’re totally lying!” Stiles said again. He stepped forward, but felt a small tug on the blanket. Glancing backward, he spotted where it had gotten caught on the edge of his bed and cursed, trying to maneuver it free.

That’s when Derek yanked on the other side of the blanket.

“Hey, wait— asshole!”

Stiles spun around, clapping both hands over the spot on his neck as if that would do anything. But Derek had already gone stock-still, eyes wide and face pale. The man’s gaze was fixed solely on the spot where the triskelion was.

Stiles’s heart plummeted. For a moment, they both just stood there.

Then Derek stepped forward. Stiles stepped back.

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re going to say…” He said, then paused. “Actually, I don’t. But I have a fair idea and as long as it doesn’t involve ripping this token human’s throat out, I’m pretty sure I can take whatever rejection you’re about to dole out. Just make it quick, big guy, would you?”

Derek stopped too, looking at Stiles like he was crazy. The man’s eyes were still a little wide, but they weren’t red and Stiles didn’t spot any claws, which he supposed was a good thing.

Stiles waited, slowly lowering his hands. Derek stared at the mark for a long moment before looking back at him.

“That’s new?”

Stiles tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Sort of.”

“Today?”

“I mean, I really thought I’d be able to keep it hidden longer—”

“Why?”

Stiles blinked. “Uh, I don’t…”

“You don’t want it,” Derek said, cutting him off. The man looked a little pained. “You didn’t want it.”

And that was the exact opposite of what Stiles expected Derek to say. To be honest, he’d been waiting for something along the lines of ‘why you? Why Stiles Stilinski?’ or whatever else rejection entailed. But Derek actually looked hurt and Stiles had no idea why.

“Um,” Stiles said, once more floundering unsuccessfully for words.

Derek was starting to look like he was about to go for the window, and if Stiles knew he’d probably never see the man again if that happened. So moving forward, Stiles caught Derek by the arm. The werewolf jerked like he’d been burned.

Quickly, Stiles let go. But he didn’t step away, not yet. “Dude, it’s not like that. I’m just so confused.”

“You were going to hide it,” Derek said.

“Because I didn’t want to get my throat ripped out!”

The man’s eyes flashed. “What?”

The conversation was taking so many turns, Stiles didn’t know how to react. So instead of saying anything else for a moment, he just raised his hands. And Derek actually seemed to relax a little.

The silence didn’t last long though, before Derek was clearing his throat. “Did it hurt?”

“Hurt?”

“The tattoo.”

“No,” Stiles said quietly, searching his face. “It was there when I woke up.”

Derek looked uncomfortable for a long moment. Then he dropped his gaze to the bedroom floor, shuffling from foot to foot. “So it’s a bad thing, then?”

Was it a bad thing?

Stiles was so surprised, he actually could have laughed.

Because he used to have this dream, right? This dream of soulmarks and Lydia Martin. Or maybe it was less of a dream and more of an attraction back then. But then he had this fantasy. This fantasy of glowing eyes that never stayed the same color.

That too, he’d abandoned before it could break him down.

Was it a bad thing?

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “Nothing about this could be bad, Sourwolf, ever. Unless you plan on ripping my throat out, that is.”

Derek stared at him. Then the man actually rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and getting your throat ripped out?”

“Alright, big guy, you were the one that made that threat in the first place.”

“Three years ago.”

“It was a very impactful moment!”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles blushed, running a hand through his hair. “Not like that, asshole.”

“Hm.”

For a moment, Stiles entertained the idea he was dreaming again. But then Derek stepped forward and there were calloused fingers tracing over the tattoo on his neck. Stiles froze, a shiver running down his spine, and Derek paused for a second.

“Is this okay?”

Stiles closed his eyes, turning his face into the touch. He could’ve sworn he heard Derek growl at the back of his throat to that.

“Stiles—”

“Yeah, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, opening his eyes to look back at the werewolf. The words stuck in his throat, just a little. “This is okay.”

This time, when Derek’s eyes sparked red, it was anything but threatening. He was closer now, Stiles realized. Close enough that Stiles thought if he wanted to, he could kiss the man.

He wanted to. Oh hell, he wanted to.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Stiles swallowed nervously, Derek’s fingers unmoving where they touched his neck. Where they touched the soulmark that Stiles had never expected to show up. Not on him. Not identical to the one of Derek’s skin.

He used to have this dream—

Stiles didn’t even have a chance to finish that thought before Derek moved forward and kissed him first.

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #soulmates #sterekweek2020 #sterek au #teen wolf au #derek hale x stiles stilinski #ficlet #sterek edits

1K notes · View notes

unholyeverything · 3 years

Text

About Obey Me! apparently not being F2P anymore.

I just wanted to say something about this. Because I’ve seen so much outrage in the fandom especially about their recent anniversary celebration.

Sorry if this might end up being long.

It’s just, so many people cry and complain about the game allegedly not being free to play anymore. But that is where the lie is.

And that’s also what will bring down the game a lot faster. Them constantly getting complaints and feeling like they’ll lose their player base will make them start to milk the game out of the last cent a lot sooner then knowing they have a few more years.

The game is free to play. You download it for free. You play for free. You have to pay nothing and to be honest, if you invest some time you get a lot.

This is a gacha game after all, you also need some luck, but in comparison to a game like Genshin Impact, that a lot of players seemed to have started to pick up as well you get a lot of materials to get the most out of your luck.

I’ve been playing for 432 days and those are all my cards. I haven’t given them a single cent. Did they get a lot of my time? Yes- but I was willing to pay that price.

I’m not trying to show off with that in any way, I just wanted to show that you indeed get a lot. As an F2P.

So it’s a lie saying the game is starting to become Pay to Play. Because it is not.

You don’t have to spend anything if you don’t want to.

Could they have handled the celebrations differently, like letting everyone chose their desired background at the end of the login? Sure- they could’ve done that. But they simply decided not to.

And that is their right as the company paying for the servers you use for free, paying for the artist that do a super good job providing about 14 brand new hand drawn cards per month, plus the voice actors, plus the animations, plus the story writers. That is a lot of work. That’s a new card every two days. They pay for promotions. They pay for all the IT working on the game, programming it, customer support, social media managers. Do you think this is free? Do you think that’s payable with just some advertisement here and there? Fun Fact: It’s not.

Small rant in the rant: A lot of people also make money off of their copyrighted materials and therefore take more income from them. As they would have to pay for usage right to be legally allowed to sell fanart. Just saying :D

How’d you like someone take your character and makes money off of them, not really, am I right? I don’t know why people think it’s okay since it’s a company. Their designers want to have a wage too.

So it is definitely not P2P.

I will however agree that the events are Pay to Win.

And apparently most of you don’t understand the difference of pay to win and pay to play. And listen, there is a big one.

I don’t know why the Obey Me! Fandom seems to think they are entitled to getting every single card that’s been put out there, to find it in their inventory. Like you can even see it and download the art from the Wiki. Heck spend 5 minutes on YouTube and someone uploaded the Devilgram too. The visibility of the Card is not behind a paywall. Is the additional story or animation that cost additional money sometimes behind a pay wall? Yes- and that is ok.

I don’t know if you noticed, but aside from the Lucifer Paws and Claws UR there is not a single Pop Quiz UR in my cards. Not one. And I got Lucifer’s grinding my ass off in Lonely Devil, spending weeks doing my daily battles. Because that card was worth it to me. In the normal events I can max get the Memory SSR, spending all of my savings on nightmare beforehand. I have like two of those. Two of which we got completely free. Leviathans UR was completely free. You realize they could’ve converted the points and taken the card from everyone, which tbh was the move I would’ve done but long term the realized it would make them lose more people and therefore money. Amos UR+ was completely free. Lucifer’s raindrop card I just got in this rerun, spending all of my savings from the past two months or more. Mammons was my guaranteed BDay card. 3 of those completely free so to say. The 14 were all I got with 432 days of playtime. That’s about a card each month. Doesn’t seem that much anymore don’t you think? Also most of the gacha cards I got from after they raised the odds to 3%. That also needs to be mentioned. They did that. 2 are character birthdays. Again with savings and time you got them. All the old cards I got doing that free pull you get every two days. That’s 4 of them as well. Only 8 of them being from limited gachas, in about 1 and a half years of playing.

But especially in gachas you should know that you can’t have everything. I don’t know why people got that impression? I don’t have every card that comes out because I don’t pull on every nightmare. I use the time there is a character I don’t like to save up. And with Obey Me! you can save up a lot.

Bringing up Genshin again: It’s fandom seems to be aware that as a Free to Play you just can’t get every character, and they seem to be fine with it. They save and manage their resources. I’ve been playing since 4 months and I have 2 5 star characters and one 5 star weapon. 2 of those I didn’t want and lost the 50/50. But that’s just how it is. I enjoyed what I got since I only spend my time how it is worth it to me.

I have to admit I had a lot of time to spend on games and if you don’t you won’t get as much, but that’s also normal. OM dailies take about 10 minutes and you get your 18 DP and can work on your cards. That is a lot to save up. And so far I pretty much got every card I wanted as long as it wasn’t an event card. And I could get those too if I invest even more time. I am just simply not willing to.

There is too much to do in this game already for me to keep up. So I really can’t understand what more you could ask for. I am home all day long and I can’t keep up with everything, so why are people complaining about not getting everything? There is so so much to get. Just focus on what you want and don’t turn into miniature Mammon’s that just want everything. And also like: Have you noticed? Most of my cards aren’t even close to being fully leveled. What do you want to do with even more of them? That won’t bring you anywhere?

But anyways I’m losing track of my own rambling where were we?

The fact that people here seem to confuse Pay to Play and Pay to Win, that was actually all I wanted to ramble about.

Manage your resources and you get a lot. If you want an F2P game that has no aspects to generate money? Well go make one. Teach yourself how to do everything, consider how much time you spend on all that before even starting. And then not getting a single cent back.

I also probably forgot half of what I wanted to say again, my body can’t keep up my big brains idk.

205 notes · View notes