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sugawaraxo · 4 years

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DOING THE GIVING HEAD PRANK ON THE KARASUNO BOYS (PT.2)

warnings: kinda smutty

characters: shoyo hinata, tobio kageyama, daichi sawamura, koshi sugawara, ryu tanaka, asahi azumane, kei tsukishima, yu nishinoya, tadashi yamaguchi

find pt.1 here

hinata

- hinata asks you to help him practice spiking since you’re actually pretty decent at setting, despite you not playing volleyball

- it’s not your favorite thing to do, but you help him because he’s your boyfriend and you love him

- but you figured if he was gonna force you to set for him for hours on end, you would at least have some fun with it

- you purposely mess up a set so that it lands nicely right in between you and him

- you knew he’d try and pick it up, so you just had to be faster

- before he could get the ball, you were already kneeling down so you could pick it up

- now your short boyfriend looks a bit taller, hovering over you in your spot on the floor

- he looks down at you as if he’s waiting for you to get up, but you don’t

- instead you move your head terribly close to his crotch and smile

- “i- y/n? you, you wanna do that here? in the gym? anyone can walk in.” he says nervously

- you giggle at his adorableness

- “no bub, i’m just picking up the ball.” you say

- he immediately goes red

- “hey! you know what you were doing.” he pouts

- you just laugh and give him a kiss on the cheek before continuing to set to him

- and since you feel bad, you give him a little treat when you get home ;)

sugawara

- he’s typing away on his computer, writing an essay that’s due the next day

- the two of you are sitting at the kitchen table, him typing and you eating

- his brows are furrowed in concentration, he looks stressed

- and that sparks an idea in your head

- somehow you manage to sneak your way under the table without him noticing

- he’s just THAT concentrated

- and you find yourself in between his legs

- he jumps at the sudden feeling of someone pressing themselves up against him

- he glances under the table at you and chuckles

- “y/n, why are you under the table? what are you- oh.” sudden realization hits your boyfriend last minute and he raises his eyebrows

- “are you trying to give me a blowjob? because i could use one right about now.” he sighs as he sits back, waiting for you to take over

- you felt bad deceiving him like this, knowing how much he would enjoy being relieved by you right now

- but you carry through with your plan

- you move your hands that were placed on his legs up and down his thighs lightly before bending down

- he closes his eyes, anticipating for you to unbutton his pants or something

- but instead you come back up with a pencil in hand

- “just getting this pencil that you dropped for you.” you smile as you hand him the pencil and sit back down in your chair

- he just looks you up and down in amusement and you laugh

- “hm, laugh all you want. it’s funny that you think you’re gonna get away with this.” he smirks

- and suddenly you’re quiet

-knowing damn well that when suga is done with that essay, you’re done for

tanaka

- you and tanaka are friends special friends

- friends with benefits if you will

- you guys are always hanging out with each other, and every once in awhile, you get a little frisky

- so it’s not unusual for you to just get on your knees and suck tanaka off whenever you please

- he enjoys it

- you enjoy it

- it’s a win win

- but you’ve never not gone through with it, so you can’t wait to see his reaction when you trick him

- the two of you are in the car, going to get some food

- he’s driving and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, plotting your prank

- he’s in the middle of telling you a story that quite frankly has lost your interest, so you decide that now is the perfect time

- you begin putting your hair up in a messy bun, and he gives you a look

- he knows exactly what that bun is for

- “oh shit. road head?” he smirks and is clearly getting excited

- you say nothing, just lean over towards him and he moves his arm so you could have better access

- you fidget around with his pants, him not being able to look at you because his eyes are focused on the road, before finding what you were looking for

- “aha, got it.” you say as you pull his wallet out of his pocket

- “mind if i borrow a dollar?”

- “are you serious?” he looks at you all frowned up, his tone half disappointed and half confused

- you start laughing at him and he just grunts

- “i really thought i was finally gonna get some road head.” he pouts

- “oh what a big baby, you’ll get over it” you tease

- “fine, no food for you.” he retaliates

- “wait no, i take it back.”

- “then suck.” he orders, gesturing to his member and you happily oblige

tadashi

- you know that tadashi has a crush on you

- like a huge crush

- but he doesn’t know that you know

- so you use this knowledge against him

- you tutor him every wednesday because he struggles a bit with chemistry

- ironically enough

- and you can’t help but notice how flustered he gets around you

- so you being the terrible person you are, plan to use this against him

-and he just made it so easy for himself

- he accidently spilled some of the food he was eating in his lap but hasn’t noticed, so you began executing your plan

- “hey tadashi, stand up.” you say somewhat assertively

- “why?” he questions

- “just stand up”

- he submissively follows your instruction

- “i don’t understand what you want me to stand for. is the supposed to help-”

- he notices where your eyes are focused, right on his crotch and he immediately blushes

- “oh, y/n...i’ve never done this before. you can do it, but i-i’m a little nervous.”

- your heart SINKS

- he’s so precious

- and now you feel guilty, so you kind of go along with it rather than tricking him

- “well umm, you just made a mess on your lap. i wanted to know if you’d let me help get it off.” you say softly

- he looks down at himself then back to you and nods with a shy “yeah”

- you lightly brush the mess off his crotch with your hand, but even just that light touch makes him tense up

- after that you end up tutoring him in something neither of you expected you to

nishinoya

- nishinoya LOVES going down on you

- like that’s definitely up there on his top ten list of things he loves most in this world

- but even more than that

- he LOVES when you go down on him

- shit absolutely destroys him and you love it because usually, he’s the one destroying you

- so when you see a tiktok of this trend, you absolutely HAVE to try it

- you start as soon as you wake up

- positioning yourself as if you’re about to give him head, but just end up grabbing the remote on the dresser beside him instead

- he rolls his eyes but says nothing in response, so you do it again later

- you’re both in the pantry, looking for snacks

- you slowly go down on your knees and he prepares himself again

- but you just grab a bag of chips from the bottom shelf and stand up

- he huffs at you and rolls his eyes again, but still no response which makes you laugh but also makes you somewhat frustrated

- you try for the third and final time but before you could even go through with it, he places his hand on your neck and pushes you up against the wall

- “you think i don’t know what you’re doing? your little tiktok prank? well it’s not gonna slide baby, you’re not gonna get away with teasing me like that.” he smirks

- you gulp

- uh oh

- nishinoya usually isn’t very rough

- but every once in awhile something sets him off, like you just did

- and you just know you aren’t gonna be able to walk tomorrow

- you were right

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cornfarm · 3 years

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summertime cicadas

saiki kusuo x reader

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you go to saiki’s place to play some video games. saiki learns a bit about your dirty laundry.

cw: suggestions of past sexual abuse. it’s not explicitly stated but it’s heavily implied.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

reader is gender neutral!

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notes:

i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a few weeks now, but i was never happy with it.

it’s implied that you and saiki are in week 2-4 of dating;;;

i have some other stuff in the works but im tired so notes r boring today

enjoy waaaaaa

===================================================

When Saiki and you were left alone together, the tension that hung in the air was fun and playful. Coy glances, the heart jittering brushes of skin, and the almost knowing smiles you two would shoot each other. This time around, it was heavy, and it weighed hefty on both your shoulders.

It was your first time over at his place since you had begun dating.

You had texted him: can i come over? i bought a new game i wanna play it with u

He was very happy you decided to make the first move, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

Immediately, the “devlivered” at the corner of your text changed to “read”. He hastily typed back: Sure, let me know when you’re here. My parents aren’t home.

You saw letters on your screen, but you squinted your eyes shut upon them entering your field of vision. You had thrown your phone across the room, too nervous to look at his response. Tentatively picking it up, your heart nearly exploded at his words. You quickly respond: okay! be there soon :)

Saiki suddenly felt a bit on edge, realization finally striking him that you were about to be in his presence. In his bedroom. Alone.

Saiki Kusuo never really felt things too intensely, so to feel it strike at his heart and stomach was almost a bit too much for his liking.

Saiki wound up sitting patiently at the dining room table, using his telekensis to pick things up, rearrange ornaments and fine china, and clean up trash. The last thing he wants is you coming over when the place is a mess.

The doorbell rang, not that he needed it to know you were here. Beckoning you in, you pull out a small disc box from your bag.

“I heard really good reviews from it. I was interested in it since I liked the art style but I wanted to wait until people played it and reviews came out before I committed.”

He takes it from your hands to inspect it, “I’m not super interested in recent games, I like older ones a bit more. Indie ones too. I’ve heard that the gameplay is really compelling.”

“That’s okay, we can still play together, right?” You almost look a bit nervous. Saiki gnawed at the inside of his lip.

“Sure,” you don’t look satisfied, “I don’t mind, doing things with you is nice.”

The content expression on your face satisfies him. You follow him upstairs.

Then the tension settles. You’re so close, the pleasant floral scent from your detergent lingering where you walk. He peers behind you as you take in his room: simple, clean, minimalistic. It’s painfully in character. You smile, flopping face down on his bed.

“I’ve only ever been here with everyone else, it was so lively then, but it’s so different when it’s quiet!” You situate yourself so you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, legs dangling off the side.

“It’s the same room.”

“Yeah but, now it’s just me and you.”

“I suppose so.”

You watch as he peers to the wall, a bit away from you.

“What, you’re not nervous are you? Do I make you, THE Saiki Kusuo nervous?”

He clicks his tongue, and begins stalking towards you. He stops right in front of you, shins nearly touching the mattress of his bed. He looks down, expression deadpanned like usual. Perhaps thats precisely why you got so flustered. Your hands coming to clasp politely in your lap, you look up at him, determined to hold eye contact.

“Mhm,” he smirks, “you do. What will you do about it?”

He watches as your lips part into a small ‘o’, before you turn your head down and begin to pout. He’ll spare you this time. The small proximity between you settles in; he should get out of here, nervousness is finally catching up, it’s a bit too much for him to handle. For such a cocky one-liner, he really can’t keep it together. He exits his room for a moment with a brief “wait here”.

He hears you let out a sigh down the hall. Taking the chance to inspect his belongings, you peer under his bed, nothing suspicious there, before making your way to his desk. There’s his computer, a nice leather desk chair, a lamp, and a small empty mug that holds pens, pencils, and highlighters. You thumb through them.

He re-enters his room, quietly opening the door, but just enough so where you hear. Outstreching his arm, he hands you a bottle of iced tea.

“This is,” inspecting the label, “you don’t usually drink these, right?”

Saiki stays quiet.

“So you got it for me? You remembered I liked it?”

He nods.

You beam at him, mutter your gratitude, and pull out the games box.

Placing the disc onto the disc reader, and pushing it in, you start up the game, and watch the intro animation.

“Yeah, the graphics are really nice,” he comments.

You adjust yourself, sitting on top a cushion on the floor, he moves a bit closer.

Skipping though dialog, tutorials, and the first few levels of the game, Saiki controller finally begins responding.

“I’m sorry, I thought the multiplayer feature would be available from the start.”

“It’s okay, you can pick first”

“Hmm...” you pause, brows furrowing in focus as you look through the different player avatar options. Finally, you turn to him and smile, “this one! Your turn.”

Saiki bites at the inside of his lip, again, moving his thumb over the joystick, he picks his avatar.

It’s nice, it’s quiet, the sound of cicada’s chirping outside his bedroom window, and the soft hum of his fan are gentle. Neither of you are talking about grand things like aspirations and inhibitions, but you didn’t have to. The soft, casual tone of conversation is something Saiki’s making sure to cherish. The game’s fun, Saiki is enjoying himself, he enjoys you.

But tension still looms heavy overhead. You aren’t the only one who was thinking about it, how close you two were, how your elbows kept bumping, the small,and the way you both tried to get just a millimeter closer.

Saiki knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t pull himself to take initiative. Why? Was nervousness just another curse set out to plague him?

He’s reading your mind, he knows without a doubt you want to, so why is he so nervous to reach out and touch you? He wants to run away.

“Saiki?”

Your voice broke his thoughts, he turns to you. “Are you okay?”

He does it without thinking, slowly placing the controller down and putting his palms on your shoulders.

“I’m just not used to this,” he finally says, “like, dating and all that.”

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, “that’s okay, I’ve never dated anyone either, we can just take it slow. We have time.” You reassure, “I’m nervous too,” voice smaller than before. He lifts his hands off, hovering them in front of you, debating on where he should put them. Should he put them back on your shoulders, or would that be weird? Maybe it’s okay if he takes your hands into his, but right now your hands are...

His vision finally focuses, and he looks at your hands, defensively positioned in front of your chest with your palms facing him. You’re looking at him with a half smile, but your brows are pursed down. You’re watching him very carefully.

Your thoughts still, pausing until he moves again, taking your hands in his own. He’s confused, why do you look so skittish?

You look visibily confused that he takes your hands. He’s granted one thought:

He’s not gonna do anything, see? He’s just holding my hands, that’s it. He’s not gonna do anything.

Do what? What do you mean? Do what?

“What do you mean?” He blurts out, voice ringing through your head.

Astonishment paints your face. Shit, you didn’t think you said anything out loud. Could he read your mind? He chooses not to say anything.

You shake your arms, he retracts his hands.

“I’ve just had bad experiences with people in the past, I got nervous, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Oh. Your internal dialog isn’t as pleasant as the words you choose to say.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it more in the future,” you still have the strength to smile at him?

He reaches out to touch you again, but never connecting. He hesitates this time, fingers hovering over your forearm.

“I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff. I wouldn’t do that to you. I won’t do that to you,” he corrects.

With a smile pained with melancholy, you shift yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his shoulder, legs finding their way between his. He wastes no time wrapping his own arms around your back, pressing your chest closer to his own. Your hearts pound against each other, breathing syncing as you both exhale a sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” your voice is muffled.

You stay like that for a few moments. Cicada’s chirping, fan blowing, there’s nothing to say- the silence is comforting in it’s own way.

You finally pull away from him, voice much brighter, “but I’m not ready to kiss you yet, I think my heart would explode!” He flushes red. Adjusting to sit back onto the cushion, you lean your weight onto his side. He tension has finally settled, and Saiki sighs contently.

Saiki only uses his powers in ways to convinience himself. Fortunately, keeping you safe was more than convinient to him: it was the bare minimum- an absolute necessity.

As soon as you leave, he’ll find the bastards that did it.

#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki k #saiki kusuo #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki k imagines #saiki k headcanons #saiki x reader

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booklindworm · 3 years

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A rant against Karen Traviss' understanding of history and her FAQ answers

Did you base the Mandalorians on the Spartans?

<cite> No. I didn't. </cite> Fair enough.

<cite> I really wish history was taught properly - okay, taught at all - in schools these days, because history is the big storehouse that I plunder for fiction. It breaks my heart to hear from young readers who have no concept even of recent history - the last fifty years - and so can't see the parallels in my books. You don't have to be a historian to read my novels, but you'll get a lot more out of them if you explore history just a little more. Watch a history channel. Read a few books. Visit some museums. Because history is not "then" - it's "now." Everything we experience today is the product of what's happened before. </cite> Yeah, I do to. Please, Ms Traviss, go on, read some books. Might do you some good. And don't just trust the history channels. Their ideas about fact-checking differ wildly.

<cite> But back to Mandos. Not every military society is based on Sparta, strange as that may seem. In fact, the Mandos don't have much in common with the real Spartans at all. </cite> You mean apart from the absolute obsession with the military ["Agoge" by Stephen Hodkinson], fearsome reputation ["A Historical Commentary on Thucydides" by David Cartwright], their general-king ["Sparta" by Marcus Niebuhr Tod], the fact that they practically acted as mercenaries (like Clearch/Κλέαρχος), or the hyper-confidence ("the city is well-fortified that has a wall of men instead of brick" [Plutarch, Life of Lycurgus])...

<cite> A slightly anarchic, non-centralized, fightin' people? Sounded pretty Celtic to me. Since I went down that path, I've learned more about the Celts (especially the Picts), and the more I learn, the more I realise what a dead ringer for Mandos they are. But more of how that happened later... </cite>

The Celtic people are more than one people, more than one culture. Celtic is a language-family! In the last millennium BC nearly every European ethnic group was in some ways Celtic, and they were not one. Later, after the Germanic tribes (also not one people, or a singular group) moved westwards, the Celtic cultures were still counted in the hundreds. Not only Scotland was Celtic! Nearly all of Western Europe was (apart from the Greek and Phoenician settlers on the Mediterranean coasts). The word “Celts” was written down for the first time by Greek authors who later also used the word “Galatians”. The Romans called these people “Gauls”, and this word was used to describe a specific area, bordered by the Atlantic Ocean, the Cévennes and the Rhine: “Gaul”. So the Celts, the Galatians and the Gauls were all part of the same Celtic civilisation. "Celts, a name applied by ancient writers to a population group occupying lands mainly north of the Mediterranean region from Galicia in the west to Galatia in the east [] Their unity is recognizable by common speech and common artistic traditions" [Waldman & Mason 2006] Mirobrigenses qui Celtici cognominantur. Pliny the Elder, The Natural History; example: C(AIUS) PORCIUS SEVERUS MIROBRIGEN(SIS) CELT(ICUS) -> not just one culture "Their tribes and groups eventually ranged from the British Isles and northern Spain to as far east as Transylvania, the Black Sea coasts, and Galatia in Anatolia and were in part absorbed into the Roman Empire as Britons, Gauls, Boii, Galatians, and Celtiberians. Linguistically they survive in the modern Celtic speakers of Ireland, Highland Scotland, the Isle of Man, Wales, and Brittany." [Celtic Culture: a historical encyclopedia. by John Koch] "[] the individual CELTIC COUNTRIES and their languages, []" James, Simon (1999). The Atlantic Celts – Ancient People Or Modern Invention. University of Wisconsin Press. "All Gaul is divided into three parts, one of which the Belgae live, another in which the Aquitani live, and the third are those who in their own tongue are called Celtae, in our language Galli." [Julius Caesar, De Bello Gallico] <= I had to translate that in school. It's tedious political propaganda. Read also the Comentarii and maybe the paper "Caesar's perception of Gallic social structures" that can be found in "Celtic Chiefdom, Celtic State," Cambridge University Press. The Celtic tribes and nations were diverse. They were pretty organized, with an academic system, roads, trade, and laws. They were not anarchic in any way. They were not warriors - they were mostly farmers. The Celts were first and foremost farmers and livestock breeders

The basic economy of the Celts was mixed farming, and, except in times of unrest, single farmsteads were usual. Owing to the wide variations in terrain and climate, cattle raising was more important than cereal cultivation in some regions.

Suetonius addressing his legionaries said "They are not soldiers—they're not even properly equipped. We've beaten them before." [not entirely sure, but I think that was in Tacitus' Annals]

Regarding the Picts, in particular, which part of their history is "anarchic"? Dál Riata? the Kingdom of Alba? Or are you referring to the warriors that inspired the Hadrian's Wall? Because no one really knows in our days who the fuck they were. The Picts’ name first appears in 297 AD. That is later. <cite> Celts are a good fit with the kind of indomitable, you-can't-kill-'em-off vibe of the Mandos. Reviled by Rome as ignorant savages with no culture or science, and only fit for slaughter or conquest, the Celts were in fact much more civilized than Rome even by modern standards. </cite> That's how the Romans looked at pretty much every culture that wasn't Greek, Roman, Phoenician, Egyptian, or from Mesopotamia (read, if you want, anything Roman or Greek about the Skyths, the Huns, Vandals, Garamantes...).

<cite> They also kicked Roman arse on the battlefield, and were very hard to keep in line, so Rome did what all lying, greedy superpowers do when challenged: they demonized and dehumanized the enemy. (They still used them in their army, of course, but that's only to be expected.) </cite> They were hard to keep in line, but they most definitely did not kick Roman arse on the battlefield. Roman arse was kicked along the borders of the Roman Empire, such as the Rhine, the Danube, the Atlas mountains, etc. And mostly by actually badly organized, slightly anarchic groups, such as the Goths or the Huns (BTW the Huns were not a Germanic people, even though early 20th century British propaganda likes to say so). Though they were also decisively stopped by the Parthians. Who were very organized. Ah well. <cite> While Rome was still leaving its unwanted babies to die on rubbish dumps - a perfectly acceptable form of family planning to this "civilisation" - and keeping women as chattels devoid of rights, the barbarian Celts had a long-standing legal system that not only gave women what we would think of as equal rights, but also protected the rights of the elderly, children, and the disabled. They had a road network across Europe and worldwide trade long before the Romans ever got their act together. And their science - well, their astronomical calculations were so sophisticated that it takes computers to do the same stuff today. </cite> See? You even say yourself that they weren't actually anarchic. Also you're not completely right: 1. women (of most Celtic cultures, with one notable exception being the Irish) were not allowed to become druids, e.g. scientists, physicians, priests, or any other kind of academics, so they did not have equal rights. Also, as in other Indo-European systems, the family was patriarchal. 2. the roads they had were more like paths, and did not span the entirety of Europe; the old roads that are still in use are nearly all of them Roman. Had the Celtic inhabitants of Gallia or Britannia built comparable roads, why would the Romans have invested in building a new system on top? 3. world-wide? Yeah, right. They traded with those who traded with others and so were able to trade with most of southern Eurasia and northern Africa, as well as few northern parts (Balticum, Rus), but that's (surprise) not the whole world. 4. most people use computers for those calculations you mention because its easier. It's not necessary. I can do those calculations - give me some time to study astronomy (I'm a math major, not physics) and some pencils and paper. 5. and - I nearly forgot - the kids didn't die. That was a polite fiction. The harsh truth is that most Roman slaves were Romans... <cite> So - not barbarians. Just a threat to the empire, a culture that wouldn't let the Pax Romana roll over it without a fight. (Except the French tribes, who did roll over, and were regarded by the Germanic Celts [...]) </cite> WTF Germanic Celts? What are you smoking, woman? Isn't it enough that you put every culture speaking a language from the Celtic family in one pot and act as if they were one people, now you have to mix in a different language-family as well? Shall we continue that trend? What about the Mongolian Celts, are they, too, proof that the Celts were badass warriors? I think at this point I just lost all leftover trust in your so-called knowledge. <cite> [...] as being as bad as the Romans. Suck on that, Asterix... </cite> Asterix was definitely a Celt, and unlike the British Celts, he was not a citizen of the Roman Empire.

<cite> Broad brush-stroke time; Celts were not a centralized society but more a network of townships and tribes, a loose alliance of clans who had their own internal spats, but when faced with some uppity outsider would come together to drive off the common threat. </cite> They might have tried, but they didn't. The first and only time a Celtic people really managed to drive off some uppity outsider would be 1922 following the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921*. The fact that France, Spain, Portugal speak Romance languages and the British (or Irish) Isles nearly uniformly speak English should be proof enough.

*Unless you count Asterix. <cite> You couldn't defeat them by cutting off the head. There was no head to cut off. </cite> You mean unlike Boudica and Vercingetorix. Oh wait. Tacitus, in his Annals, said that Boudica's last fight cost 80,000 Britons and 400 Romans their lives. He was probably exaggerating. But it definitely stopped much of the British resistance in its tracks. <cite> To the centralized, formal, rather bureaucratic Romans, for whom the city of Rome was the focus of the whole empire, this was a big does-not-compute. The Celts were everything they didn't understand. And we fear what we don't understand, and we kill what we fear. </cite> While that is totally true, it's also completely off the mark. The Romans demonized the druids, not every Celt, and they were afraid of what was basically an academic network. That had nothing to do with war. <cite> Anyway, Mandos....once I took a single concept - in this case, the idea of clans that operated on a loose alliance system, like the Celts - the rest grew organically. I didn't plan it out in detail from the start. </cite> That's really obvious. Maybe looking at some numbers and remembering that you weren't planning a small, local, rural, medieval community would have helped, too. I mean lets have a look at, say, Scotland (since you specifically mentioned the Picts): they still have less than 6 mio. people all together, and that's today. Mandalore is a sector. A sector of Outer Space with at least 2000 inhabited planets. How do you think that translates? It doesn't. <cite> I just asked myself what a culture of nomadic warriors would value, how they would need to operate to survive, and it all grew inexorably by logical steps. The fact that Mandos ended up as very much like the Celts is proof that the technique of evolving a character or species - find the niche, then work out what fits it - works every time. It creates something very realistic, because that's how real people and real societies develop. </cite> Celtic people were usually not nomadic! And, once again, non of them were predominantly warriors! It's really hard to be a nomadic farmer. I believe the biggest mistake you made, Ms Traviss, is mixing up the Iron Age (and earlier) tribes that did indeed sack Rome and parts of Greece, and that one day would become the people the Romans conquered. And apart from the Picts they really were conquered. <cite> So all I can say about Mandos and Spartans is that the average Mando would probably tell a Spartan to go and put some clothes on, and stop looking like such a big jessie. </cite>

I'd really like to see a Mando – or anyone – wearing full plate without modern or Star Wars technology in Greece. Happy heatstroke. There is a reason they didn't wear a lot (look up the Battle of Hattîn, where crusaders who didn't wear full helmets and wore chainmail* still suffered badly from heat exhaustion). [Nicolle, David (1993), Hattin 1187: Saladin's Greatest Victory] *chainmail apparently can work like a heatsink CONCLUSION You're wrong. And I felt offended by your FAQ answers. QUESTION You're English. You're from England. A group - a nation - that was historically so warlike and so successful that by now we all speak English. A nation that definitely kicked arse against any Celtic nation trying to go against them (until 1921, and they really tried anyway). A nation that had arguably the largest Empire in history. A nation that still is barbaric and warlike enough that a lost football game has people honestly fearing for their lives.

Also, a Germanic group, since you seem to have trouble keeping language-families and cultures apart. If we were to talk about the family, we could add on the current most aggressively attacking nation (USA) plus the former most aggressively attacking nations (the second and third German Reich), also the people who killed off the Roman Empire for good (the Goths and Visigoth), the original berserkers (the Vikings) and claim at the very least the start of BOTH WORLD WARS. Why did you look further?

Some other sources:

Histoire de la vie privée by Georges Duby and Philippe Ariès, the first book (about the antiquity) I read it translated, my French is ... bad to non-existent

The Day of the Barbarians: The Battle That Led to the Fall of the Roman Empire (about the Huns) by Alessandro Barbero

If you speak Dutch or German, you might try

Helmut Birkhan: Kelten. Versuch einer Gesamtdarstellung ihrer Kultur, Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien

Janssens, Ugo, De Oude Belgen. Geschiedenis, leefgewoontes, mythe en werkelijkheid van de Keltische stammen. Uitgeverij The House of Books

DISCLAIMER

I’m angry and I wrote this down in one session and thus probably made some mistakes. I’m sorry. Or maybe I’m not sorry. I’m still angry. She can’t know who reads her FAQ and at least two of her answers (on her professional website) were offensive to the reader.

#history #england #scotland #ancient celts #roman empire #mandalorians #sparta #proud warrior race #shitty research #rant #me ranting #fuck this #karen traviss

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emilyplaysotome · 3 years

Text

Queen’s Choice: Part 4

This is the fourth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3

I don’t feel nervous until I’m in the elevator, on my way up to see him.

You’d think I’d be used to seeing Victor by now, and even more used to him giving me grief about my presentations but I’m never prepared enough when it comes to him.

I realize it’s because I owe him in more ways than I feel comfortable admitting.

I owe him for helping my company and for saving me.

Again and again and again.

I know that they all care about me, but Victor has this uncanny ability to appear and whisk me out of harm’s way. I shudder when I think about what might have come to pass had it not been for him.

Goldman is the one who breaks me away from my thoughts and I make small talk with him as he leads me to Victor’s office. I’m dressed slightly different, with a tight pencil skirt that’s flirting with being a bit too skimpy for me and a conservative blouse so it looks like a mistake.

I’m not wearing underwear and I can feel my heart racing as I interact with a man outside of my target, worried that he can tell and I’ve accidentally exposed myself.

That doesn’t seem to be the case though, thanks to my blazer that covers my chest and I take a deep breath as I enter Victor’s office, the door shutting behind me.

He looks even more handsome than I remember and I remind myself that my intention for today is to tease, not necessarily seduce - though I’m open to the latter. His eyes are glued to his computer screen, and he doesn’t so much as glance up in my direction as I take off my blazer and sit in front of him.

The fabric of my blouse rubbing against me combined with the chill of the offices has made my nipples erect, and I resist the urge to cover up, instead arching my back to give the illusion of a fuller bosom despite barely filling out an A cup.

When he does finally look at me I see a flash of irritation in his face before he says, “Your presentation was filled with errors.”

“What!? Really?”

I’m genuinely shocked because I spent so much time checking and rechecking my work and without thinking I run beside him, behind the desk and bend over to see the computer screen. As a result I can feel my skirt riding up and I wonder if I’m as exposed as I think I am.

Victor doesn’t seem to notice this though, exasperated he walks me through what I need to do better and I end up forgetting about teasing him and take notes diligently. It’s because of this that when he finally asks, “Are you trying something funny with me?” I don’t understand what he’s talking about at first.

“What?”

“You really are a dummy, you know that?”

With that he pulls at the back of my pencil skirt, his fingers accidentally brushing against the top of my thighs. I blush uncontrollably and nervously scuttle back to my chair.

“I didn’t want panty lines,” I whisper so softly it’s barely audible but he hears me and sighs again.

“I’m driving you home and you’re changing so no one else sees you like this.”

“Is it that bad? You don’t...like it?”

It’s then that he pauses and with an eyebrow raised asks, “Is this for me?”

“Maybe.”

He grins now and I’m worried about what will come next.

“Have you dumped those other 3 and come here to confess?”

“What other -“

“Let’s not act like I don’t know and you don’t know. Call me when you’re done with them and then I’ll fuck you silly right on my desk if you want.”

He goes back to work and I’m stunned by his the straightforwardness of his response.

“I...”

“Was there something else?”

He’s smirking when he looks at me and I can’t help but feel like he’s enjoying playing with me like this.

“I want to negotiate.”

I can tell that this intrigues him. He puts down his pen and sits back in his chair, crossing his legs and waiting for more information.

“I agree to stop seeing one of them and we see what we are like together.”

He laughs and my face instantly feels hot.

“Why is that funny? Aren’t you curious too?” I say a little too loud and with an indignant expression I can’t help but have.

“Dummy.”

He leans forward in his chair, putting his weight on his elbows as his closes the distance despite his grand mahogany desk between us.

“I’m not curious because I already know.”

My face burns but I don’t back down.

“Well I don’t. Offer stands.”

He considers this and with a smirk says,

“Three.”

“That’s basically confessing! I’m not ready!”

“I thought we were negotiating? I have the upper hand you know....”

“Two! And that’s my final offer.”

“I’ll consider it. But for now, let me take you home.”

—

I feel rejected as I sit in the passenger seat and far more disappointed than I expected to feel.

None of them have denied me, and I can’t stop fantasizing about what it would have felt like to have him capitalize while I was next to him, bending over. I think about how his fingers could have entered me and how exhilarating it would have been to fuck on that grandiose desk of his.

But it looks like I won’t find out.

The car pulls up in front of my building and he says, “I’ll be in touch. Cover up in the meantime if this was really for me...”

“Huh?”

He sighs but he doesn’t look exasperated. He looks gentle and tender and loving and he says, “I’m trying to tell you that I love you as you are.”

He drives off before I can reply.

—

My head is filled with fantasies of Victor beyond the ones in his office after he denies me. I check my phone to see if he has agreed to my terms but I don’t see anything from him.

I feel frustrated but I also don’t know who I would pick.

I really don’t want to choose.

In the days that follow the intensity of the fantasies increase and I find myself alone in bed touching myself to the thoughts of being with him. I get messages from the others but I’ve got tunnel vision.

I’m a woman obsessed and whose curiosity needs to be satiated.

I eventually buckle and write him, asking if my terms have been agreed to, all the while not knowing who I’d pick.

I get no answer.

—

I’m thinking about what my next move is a week after our encounter in his office. I’m home, wearing a comfy pj set, hair still wet and fresh out of the shower when there’s a knock at my door. I’m honestly wondering if Lucien has returned next door but it’s Victor who I see through the peep hole.

He’s holding something and looks impatient and I eagerly open the door, forgetting that I’m not exactly in sexy attire.

“I’ve brought a contract,” he says, breezing by me and heading to kitchen to fix himself a drink before walking over to my couch. He’s clearly come from work, but he’s loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, indicating that he’s done for the day.

I sit beside him and confused mumble, “a contract?”

There’s a snort and he says, “Our negotiation? Or have you already forgotten?”

“No!” I exclaim, but my heart sinks knowing what’s most likely in here.

When I look over the papers, I’m surprised to discover that there’s no mention of parting ways with anyone. Instead the demands are...far more accommodating to my desires.

The contract outlines in details how we shall entire an exploratory phase with each other, and will not finish until both parties are satisfied. This period has no deadline other that it will last until both parties are satisfied.

There is one catch.

With each week that goes by, I have to say goodbye to one suitor. Two weeks, two men total. Three weeks...well, the decision will be made by then even should we not have a label on our relationship.

Victor smiles as I realize the contract is outlined in a way should I have unlimited men, one would be sacrificed per week.

He hands me an expensive looking fountain pen and asks, “Do we have a deal?”

I nod, taking the pen from him and signing my name next to where he’s already signed.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” he says and extends his hand for me to shake it. When I take it, he grabs me and pulls me into him, his other hand wrapping around the back of my head as he kisses me.

It’s brief because of how we are situated on my couch, and he pulls me onto him so I’m straddling him as he unbuttons my top, before sucking on my breast. His tongue flicks at me while his hand gently pinches the other and I moan helplessly.

“Is this what you wanted when you appeared in my office in that sheer blouse?” He teases, but I can’t formulate a reply.

“Well?” He pushes again, not accepting my half moan half whimper as a response.

“Yes but more.”

“What more? Describe it.”

It’s embarrassing to tell him everything I fantasized but I do and as I do I can feel him getting harder and harder underneath me. I can tell he loves hearing about the nights spent with nothing but myself and thoughts of him and he carries me to my bed, stripping me of my bottoms, and demands I show him what I did those nights.

I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone before and it’s both nerve-racking and exhilarating. As I start to do it, he strips down in front of me and does the same.

It’s the first time I’m seeing him like this, not just naked, but animalistic in the way he watches me. I can tell by the way he’s stroking himself that things are escalating for both of us. I don’t want to come because he still hasn’t really touched me, but he demands that I show him exactly what I did and I feel compelled to obey.

I cry out as a wave of pleasure rushes over me and moments later he’s kneeling between my legs on the bed, hovering over me as he finishes on my stomach.

We’re both panting as I hand him a tissue to wipe himself and I’m about to get dressed when he grabs my arm and stops me.

“We’re not done,” he says with a smile.

For a moment I’m surprised, but then excited at the thought that our first night together is only beginning.

Part 5

I hope you liked the fourth chapter of my steamy fic. As I’ve said before this is very out of my comfort zone but I tried to kick this up a notch! If you liked this, please comment, share, and like! I love seeing that :)

As always, if you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend, liking it, or buying me a coffee!

Just lmk if you don’t want to be tagged and I’ll take you off.

tagging @ho-lee-snow-balls

@redheadkitty11

@superllamaathleteshoe

@mamafishfound

@animeemmy14

@clilee

@uniunikilla

@x-klamstrakur

@itsannaslife13

@exosexosekai

@galaxystarrr

#mr love kiro #mr love lucien #mr love victor #mr love gavin #mr love queen's choice #mr love queen's choice fan #mr love queens choice fanfic #mlqc fanfic #mlqc #mlqc fic #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc smut

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caermis · 4 years

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❝For 6 Whole Months…❞ Pt. 1

✑Characters 🍸Todoroki Shouto 🍷Momo Yaoyorozu

✑Warnings -Suggestive NSFW -Sorta yandere tendencies

✑Characters are aged up ✑No Quirk AU

✑Prompt/Summary: 🍸🍷Todoroki and Momo have been Married for 2 years, not out of love, but for publicity. Until they meant Lil’ Y/N, just the thing this poor college graduate with no job needs… A Sugar Momma and a Sugar Daddy.🍸🍷

✑Notes -Y/S - Your smell/scent

🍸 “Todoroki-san, L/N-san has arrived.” Looking away from my office skyline view, I turned around my mic pressing the mic. “Allow her in.” Hearing the door opens and a woman with a kind smile on her face. Looking different from how I imagined her. Her hair was made of many braids and in a ponytail, wearing a black pencil skirt and a tight F/C button up. The smell of Y/S left her. Her brown skin seemed to glow, the sun from the window enhanced the glow. Knocking out of my daze, she bowed. “I’m L/N Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you Todoroki-san.”

🍸“The pleasure is all mine.” Giving a quick bow, I motioned for her to take a seat at my desk, my secretary closing the door behind him. Watching her slide into the seat, her hands resting in her lap. Slowly sitting down, I stared over at her. She was beautiful. Watching her face, she was holding her breath and looked somewhat nervous. “L/N, it’s alright. No need to be nervous. Let’s go through a few questions.” She gave me a less anxious smile. “Alright.”

🍸Flopping back in his seat, he deeply inhaled the smell you gave off fluttering into his nose. You had left a few minutes ago, passing the interview with flying colors. His eyes flickered over to the camera, watching you in the elevator alone, happily fist pumping in pure excitement. Chuckling to himself as he watched you. You didn’t give off the constant feel of complete confidence, yet neither did you give the vibe of pure vulnerability. You weren’t spoken and wrote what Todoroki said that could benefit you, only respectfully correcting him, when he said something that wasn’t correct about yourself.

🍸Todoroki liked you a lot and would have you immediately take his current secretary’s place, maybe even become his personal secretary so you would be around him almost all the time, maybe you wouldn’t even need to work, just keep him company for the day and he’d spoil you. You would become his Sugar Baby.

🍷Momo’s job, says Todoroki, was to appear daily with a smile on her face and lunch in hand. Both knew popularity follows, and the well-known actress knew that she needed a good appearance. Not to stay. She was a normally rude person, but she didn’t care much for others that were not important to her. So she would play the loving wife and appear every day, with the same million-dollar smile and lunch. Stepping inside the building, the smell of Y/S filled her nose, strong, but not overwhelming.

🍷Her eyes ran across the first floor, before stopping on you. Seeing at how easily you stood out, you were beautiful. Watching your smile, she couldn’t help but feel the need to get closer. Walking through the crowd, stopping by your side, she looked forward, wondering how to get your attention without seeming weird. “Yaoyorozu-san. Todoroki-san is expecting you on the 100th floor like always.” Smiling, she placed her bag on the counter and pretended to search through it.

🍷 “I’ve seemed to misplace something of Shouto’s. I wish to find before I see him.” The receptionist nodded in understanding and walked off to help someone else. Glancing at you from time to time, before pulling back, knocking the open bag down. Without waiting, you immediately got down and helped the actress gather the spilled items. “I’m sorry.” She got down with gathering her things.

🍷“It’s alright. I’m more than happy to help, Yaoyorozu-san.” Passing the actress items back to her, her pale fingers brushed against yours. You were warm. “Thank you. I’m Momo Yaoyorozu. Shouto’s wife.” Standing back up, she slightly bowed to you. Doing the same, you smiled. “L/N Y/N. Apply for a job here.” Her eyebrows raised in interest. “I wish you the best of luck.”

🍸🍷“I plan on getting a Sugar Baby.” The couple at dinner solemnly, Todoroki breaking the silence. Momo only shrugged. “Do what you wish. I might do the same.” Todoroki raised a brow as he took a sip of his wine and stared at Momo. She never seemed the type of woman to have a Sugar Baby. “She applied to work with me today.” Momo took another small bite of her food and leaned back in her chair. “We met today. She seemed so sweet.”

🍸🍷“L/N Y/N.”

🍸🍷Silence settled over the two as they spoke the same name. The couple stared at each other before Momo slowly stood up. “I’m going to bed.” Shouto didn’t move and took another sip. Not acknowledging what his wife said.

🍸🍷Thus began the six-month battle for L/N Y/N.

🍸🍷Neither of them made it obvious that they wanted you to be theirs completely. Having obtained the job of Todoroki’s personal secretary, you were by his side 24/6, never seeming to do actual work. Maybe grab a cup of tea for the man or set reminders for personal stuff, while his work secretary handled his meetings and such, leaving you with much free time to converse with the man.

🍸🍷His wife, Yaoyorozu, always appeared the same exactly every day, so you took it upon yourself to wait for her by the elevator and walk with her back to Todoroki-san’s office, making small talk. The kind smile never leaves her face. Usually staying for two minutes to discuss things with Todoroki-san privately and you’d wait outside.

🍸🍷Sooner her daily visits became longer, lasting up to almost a full 30 minutes before having to leave and return to work. You’d walk her to the elevator and bid her farewell until you saw her tomorrow. That was a normal day for you.

🍸🍷“Here you go.” Passing me a little business card, it was his personal phone number. Standing in front of my car, the sun had gone down and Todoroki-san had offered to walk me there before heading back home. “Are you sure?” He nodded with the smallest smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You’re my personal secretary, so staying in contact with you at all times is important.” Just like you thanked him hand headed home. Your job had no certain hours or a set pay. Your payday ranged from $15,000 to $30,000 every two weeks, nothing seemed to drop below $15,000 dollars, and you had more than enough to pay for your bills.

🍸🍷“L/N, we should go out on a girls’ trip!” Yaoyorozu excitedly grabbed my hands as we sat with Todoroki for lunch. “Maybe go to America and I could meet your family. Or you could come to France or Europe for a week. Wouldn’t that sound lovely, Darling?” She turned to Todoroki, who simply nodded, took a sip of his water and turned back to his computer and resumed typing.

🍸🍷That was one thing you noticed, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki’s relationship felt so forced and he hardly even acknowledge her presence unless on national Television and Galas that you had to attend, always with Todoroki, taking notes before you were dragged away with Yaoyorozu. “That sounds wonderful, Yaoyorozu-san.”

🍸🍷“Call me Momo.” Giving a curt nod, I smiled. As time flew fast like every day, it was time for Momo to return to the screen, starring in a major role in a new movie. Cleaning up the lunch, I could feel Todoroki’s eyes on me as I moved. “L/N, can you assist me, please?” Throwing things in the trash, I walked to his side, pointing to his screen. Leaning forward, the smell of fresh cold wind, mixed with the warmth of campfire smell filled my nose.

🍸🍷“Should I set a reminder for the next major meeting and prepare a new suit?” Hearing him chuckle, I moved away. Staring at him, I pulled out my notebook. “Did I say something funny?” Todoroki leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, his hand pulling at his tie slowly. Oh. O h. This man was a different breed.

🍸🍷“Are you alright?” Snapping back into reality, I nodded. “Can you remind me to contact Midoriya for dinner and drinks?” jogging it down in my notebook. ‘Get a bucket and a mop-’ Hearing my phone go off, I rushed to the other a step back of the desk, grabbing my phone and pressing the answer.

🍸🍷“I am in the middle of working.”

🍸🍷“I know that idiot, but I’ll be picking you up early.”

🍸🍷“Why?”

🍸🍷“The old hag is in the hospital.”

🍸🍷Shouto watched you in silence, you weren’t one to answer calls while working and his ringtone was different from the previous ones, seeing as you had a different ringtone for each other. He quickly learned that when Momo had called and it was some pop girl song, and from when he purposely called you to see if he had one, which he did, but the song was in English and he couldn’t understand it.

🍸🍷“Todoroki-san, is it alright if I leave early. My boyfriend’s mother is in the hospital.”

🍸🍷Wait what! The infamous L/N Y/N had a boyfriend and not either of them seem to know.

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

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Business AU - Working Late, Part 2

Part 1 can be found here. Idk man, I’m enjoying this. I’m not going too overboard with descriptions and stuff, unless really necessary. It’s just a “feels good” kinda thing, you know 😂 ANYWAY, let’s get on with 👏

She thought she’d feel pressure by working with one of her bosses, but to be frank Donatello had this way of easing her into the work - it felt like a walk in the park. Conversations with him were always light and amicable, all while remaining professional. His insights about various projects and knowledge of certain employees proved to be quite useful, and soon enough Vee’s end of the month was a thing of the past - at least, until another rush. Just in time for this Friday night.

“Here’s the last file that was up for review,” came up Donatello’s voice as he dropped a light document on Vee’s desk.

“Peter’s file, correct?” asked Vee, still typing on her keyboard, not even lifting her eyes.

“Yeah, there wasn’t much to review, hence why his is quite small-ish. He’s doing good so far.”

... No answer. Vee was still typing, now in silence. The turtle frowned lightly, hunching over a little in order to look at her screen, leaving a hand on the desk for support.

“What’s so important that requires your undivided attention?”

The woman did a small jump, mostly dued to the other’s proximity.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m being so rude right now,” she blabbered, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. “I was just so focused on answering this email.”

“No worries,” smiled the mutant. “It wasn’t such a bad sight to see you this focused, anyway.”

“Oh please, sometimes I look like a dead fish or a deer facing headlights when I’m deep in thoughts.”

That brought a soft laughter from Donatello, trying not to bring too much attention on them from the other employees - although it was already too late by his sole presence in the room. Vee couldn’t help liking to see this side of him, showing that he could not only be a boss - he could be a friend. A complete snack of a friend though... Today he was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves, as usual for him, rolled to his elbows. He was also adorning a grey tie that matched his grey pants, a simple yet elegant combination for him. Meanwhile Vee felt a bit too casual for the workplace, but she knew she was staying true to herself in a reasonable fashion. A black turtleneck shirt, high-waisted jeans and black shoes. There were days she would dress a bit more formal, but in the end she mostly valued her comfort over fashion.

“How about we celebrate tonight? Since we finally got through your work.” he asked.

“Oh? Something in particular?”

“You, me,” he started, pointing to her than himself. “A bottle of wine and my drafting board.”

Vee almost choked for a moment, her thoughts turning wild and impure all of a sudden, but she was quick to save the situation:

“You’re quite eager to get back to your project,” she said, alluring to the Lowline structure.

“We made a deal, remember?” he smirked. “I help you, then you help me. Unless you’re chickening out?”

The woman didn’t break eye contact as she opened one of her desk’s drawers, revealing pencils, various rulers of many shapes and forms, and a compass.

“Joke’s on you, I’m already prepared.”

Both chuckled, trying to keep it down. In this comfort, Vee left a light touch on Donatello’s skin, one of his hands still down on her desk.

“I’ll be there,” she added with delight. “Don’t you worry.”

The turtle’s hand moved, shifting the woman’s touch to his palm, holding her ever so gently.

“Excellent.” His thumb brushed the top of her hand, pensive. “... You may get back to your emails now, miss Vee.”

As he left, Vee was trying so hard not to grin like a fool. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that some coworkers close by were glancing at her, the woman’s focus quickly shifting back to her computer, hoping she wasn’t looking too much like a blushing mess...

***

The place was empty, but the echo of laughters could be heard coming from a small room. It was no lie that the bottle of wine had been opened first, anecdotes of the day and week bringing amusement to their conversation. Vee was seated by the drafting board, pencil in hand as she tried to review Donatello’s lines. ... She had to admit that it was hard to focus and be steady at times.

“You see,” she started, first applying a tracing sheet over the actual plan. “It’s all about the flick of the wrist.” She held her pencil, carefully tracing lines in fluid circular motions. “Organic shapes have to be felt, not calculated... well, to a certain extent.”

“I can’t just wing it though,” pointed the turtle, next taking a sip of his drink as he was sitting close by. “How else could I provide exact measurements if I simply go with my feelings?”

He held up a free pencil with his other hand, faking a serious look as he held it in a comical ceremonious manner.

“Oh pencil, let me pour my emotions through thee, for I want to draw half-circles.”

“I’m trying to help you!” she laughed while playfully slapping one of his shoulders.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he chuckled in return. “I’m a man of logic, I can’t help it. Your speech would probably resonate better with my brother Mikey.”

Before Vee could protest, the mutant was up, freeing his hands and next standing behind the woman. She felt his hands travel along her arms, until close to her hands. He was trying to mimic her posture, the side of his face close to the top of her head - a smile felt in the air.

“I need to be taught by example. That way I can probably feel what you’re talking about.”

Gosh ... Vee sure hoped he wasn’t noticing her blush. She couldn’t explain it, but his touch right now felt a bit more different than earlier today. Still delicate, but much more intimate.... She started to draw, her voice quiet as she explained:

“You see, mister Donatello-”

“Please, you can call me Donnie. It’s not forbidden.”

She gulped.

“Feel the movement in my wrist,” continued the woman as she drew a circular line. “It’s best to feel relaxed and not be afraid to move your body.”

“I move my body pretty often, so at least that.”

Vee did not hesitate this time to look at him, a slight surprise in her eyes. Donnie showed clear amusement as he added:

“Trainings.”

Oof, she could breathe again. She tsked, then returning to her task, executing some more shapes until she proposed the pencil to the turtle.

“Here, try it out.”

He took it, not even prompting for them to switch places next. He prefered to stay behind Vee, practically nuzzling the top of her head so he could have a view as if sitting at her place. All Vee could feel was this strong shiver going along her spine, Donnie’s presence overwhelming her senses. She then saw him execute some strokes on the paper, copying her movements. She could see a clear improvement, his pace then slightly decreasing, observing his work. Putting the pencil aside, he couldn’t help getting a hold back of Vee’s hand, his thumb slowly grazing her skin.

“Impressive what an artist’s hand can do and teach...,” he said calmly.

And those hands could do so much more.... Vee tried to hush her thoughts, peacefully removing her hand from his hold.

“I should get going, it’s getting late...”

The dream seemed to fall, the mutant moving away. ... The room seemed so cold all of a sudden, Vee missing his proximity and heat.... He was still showing that soft smile though, offering his hand for her to grab and help her up.

“Understandable. If you want I could drop you to your place, or anywhere you want.”

The offer was so tempting...

“No thank you,” she replied, next grabbing her belongings.

She did pause for a moment, their gazes meeting.

“... This was nice,” added the woman. “I look forward to working with you more, ... Donnie.”

“Me as well, Vee.”

((Part 3))

#it's-a-moi #business au #part 3 coming soon at some point x'DD maybe tomorrow #I just love this fgdsbfsdbhfjsd #it's a fun way to spend my evenings :)#again - sorry if there's errors

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meruz · 4 years

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Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for?

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha.

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at [email protected].

<33333333333333333333333333

#ask #anonymous

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

Stuck With You - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : How Does It Feel?

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I am small and the world is big All around me is fast moving

I'm not afraid of anything I just need to know that I can breathe

I'm young, and I am free But I get tired, and I get weak

How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel?

The art department was not as impressing as the one at my old uni, but amazing nonetheless. I walked slowly through the barely-started or almost-finished paintings in the empty room, my eyes moving on all the pieces of art. The room felt warm and I knew I'd be happy here. I started wondering if we could spend time here before and after classes but somehow, I felt like asking Louis would be useless. He probably didn't know much about the art department anyway. I glanced back at him and felt my lips curl slightly on the left when I realized he was staring at me from the door. He leaned against the frame, just waiting for me, and I pressed my lips together, feeling extremely thankful that I was not alone. I didn't know why we had bonded so easily but I didn't want to question it. It was the first time I trusted someone as much as I did since... that someone I used to love. But this time, it felt very different.

I ran two of my fingertips on an easel, moving my fingers on dried painting stuck on the wood, and lick my lips. I hadn't worked on my last painting in weeks. In fact, I had not created anything in way too long and I missed it. I wrote down the instructions to find my classes easily the next day and ended up at a small dinner with Louis.

"You really seemed mesmerized earlier." he said softly.

I looked up at him as he sent me a small smile and I bit my bottom lip, raising my eyebrows. Yea, maybe I was a bit fascinated by art, and perhaps it could be a bit weird if you didn't know what it felt like, but the way Louis was smiling at me told he didn't think anything bad of it : he just thought it was funny.

"I'm a bit stressed to get back into it, to be quite honest." I admitted, raising my nose up in a grimace. "I feel like I haven't painted in years."

"You have a painting class tomorrow?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mmhm, and photography, too." I remembered, feeling my heart skip a beat at how stressed I was to start new, especially in the middle of a school year. "I think my day will end with Art History but that's no problem, I'm quite good at that."

"By the end of the year, I'll have let you bring me to a museum." he just said with a chuckle.

"And you can bring me to a football game."

Louis laughed just as we got our plates. We started eating in silence and even if it could be awkward, it really was not. I loved Louis. I didn't have many friends at my old university, and most of those I had didn't even care about me anymore. They had suddenly disappeared after the drama happened and even if I tried to tell myself I couldn't blame them, I still did anyway.

I was about to tell Louis that his friendship meant a lot to me but his phone beeped and I looked at him as he grabbed it, still chewing on the enormous bite he had taken from his pizza.

"Mm, I'm sorry Dev, did you plan on visiting more places this afternoon?" he asked before raising his eyes up and looking at me. "I sort of have an emergency."

I felt suddenly disappointed but I kept it to myself and sent Louis a smile. I knew I was not his only friend, and I know he didn't owe me all his time. Everything just felt easier and safer when he was around. Still, I was not a fragile and pathetic little girl anymore, I could definitely survive a few hours by myself.

"Hey, no worries." I just shrugged, taking a sip of soda. "I'll check a few more classes and go back to my room to prepare my stuff."

Louis stared at me for a few seconds and he seemed skeptical, which surprised me because I knew I was a good liar, and that I could hide my emotions very well. I raised my eyebrows at him and chuckled, shaking my head slightly.

"What?"

"You sure? I feel like shit for ditching you."

This time, I chuckled sincerely. "I'm fine, Louis. You're good. I mean, I know you have a life, can't expect you to spend 24/7 with me!"

"Trust me, I'd prefer to keep visiting with you." he pointed out, making me smile more as he swallowed the last bite of his pizza. "I'll text you yea?"

---

I had spent a few more hours wandering around but I hadn't talked to anyone. I sucked at making friends and I didn't trust easily, and maybe it didn't help. It was probably something about my aura, or simply something that emanated from me, who knew?

I had found the photography class and a few others that seemed to be more about theory but something caught my ears and I frowned slightly. I was not a music student and I knew I was probably super bad at it, but the piano notes made my heart jump in my chest. I've always wanted to learn, but I never had the guts to try. I followed the music who suddenly stopped only to start again from the beginning.

I walked to the door and peeked subtly inside. The first thing I noticed was the piano, placed against a wall. I knew the room was full of different instruments but I didn't have time to check : I was too surprised by who was sitting in front of the piano, his finger sliding skillfully on the keys. He was not too far but he was too focused on what he was doing to notice me. I honestly didn't expect Niall to be studying in music but with the way he played, it was not surprising. He grabbed a notebook and scribbled something quickly before scratching it and writing something else. He put the notebook away and cleared his throat before playing again and this time, I really heard his voice.

"We should twist the knife, put it all to bed, I.... need to understand what it takes to love again."

It's only when he stopped playing again to write some more that I realized I was holding my breath. He left one of his hands near the piano with his fingertips brushing in the keys as he wrote more in his notebook and finally put his pencil in his mouth to try a few more notes. I felt something stir in my stomach and realized tnat the notes he was playing did something to me inside, something I couldn't explain. I normally feel that in front of a special painting or photography that actually makes me feel something but this time, it was a song. A song that apparently, was not even finished. I felt extremely guilty to be there, like I was hearing something I didn't have the moral right to, and I thought about how i'd feel if someone watched me paint without me knowing. I held my breath as he started singing again, taking me out of my thoughts to focus on him singing.

"So come on, love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets 'Cause you got a hold of me, baby Enough to pull me back in deep You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we're tearing at the seams We've both had enough of this, baby So promise me that when you leave You won’t say you'll come back to me."

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, feeling every word in my bones and deep in my stomach. I felt like he was singing about my own story and even if I didn't want to admit it, it hurt me more than I thought it would. Perhaps I was not completely healed from what had happened to me and even if deep down I knew it, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. That's why I was here anyway, right? To get back on my feet and get rid of the feelings for someone who literally broke me? I came back to reality only when I heard him groan and my eyes fluttered open. He scribbled something again in his notebook and I started nibbling my bottom lip. It was incredible to feel connected to someone who always got on my last nerves. I had known him for only 24 hours and he had made me feel more emotions than most people in my life and that thought alone really bothered me. Of course, they were not all good ones but it still didn't change the fact that this guy easily got to me. At that exact moment though, the feelings inside me were good. Scary, but good.

I thought about everything I went through in the past 2 years of my life. The rumors, the comments, the judging... and also the way I had my heart broken into a million pieces by someone I thought was the love of my life.

Once again, I got out of my daydream and left. In fact, I started running. I sprinted through campus and stopped only when I closed the door of my room and leaned against it. I tried to catch my breath and let myself slide against the door until my ass hit the floor and closed my eyes. I knew heartbreaks take time to heal, but I wanted it to be over now. I wanted to stop thinking about him and what he did to me. I wanted to stop being so sad for someone I knew didn't deserve me. Hearing Niall's words brought everything back to the surface and it pissed me off that I still let these thoughts and feelings invade me like that.

I leaned my head against the door and thought about what had just happened, pushing the bad thoughts away, or at least trying. Niall was an artist and that was probably one of the reasons why he could so easily get to me... and also probably why I felt connected to him in a special way. The truth was, I didn't want to feel connected to an arrogant prick like him. Yes, his song had made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time but that didn't mean him, as a person, made me feel things, right? I groaned low, hating the fact that even his voice seemed to still resonate inside me and got up to take a shower.

I should have gone out to eat something but I was not hungry. This whole thing had left me confused and I tried to get rid of those thoughts but when I got out of the bathroom, Niall was sitting on his bed, typing something on his computer. I glanced at him, feeling my heart skip a beat, remembering that I had literally spied on him and to me, it felt worse than if I had looked at him naked without his consent. Somehow, having your soul exposed seemed way worse than having your body exposed. I was not a big fan of my body, but there were some things engraved in my soul that I didn't want to share, and after hearing Niall's song, I felt like it was the same thing for him.

"Hello Devon, a bit early for a shower?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the screen of his computer. "Did you do the dirty?"

I wanted to be a smartass and tell him I was too busy spying on his writing his new song, but I ended up thinking it could easily turn against me. I rubbed the towel on my dark and and he looked up to stare at me, probably waiting for an answer. The way his eyes softened made me think he could feel bad about teasing me all the time but I pushed that thought away. Niall didn't have weak moments, or at least, not around people. With the lyrics and feelings in his songs, he probably could be weak, sometimes, when he was by himself.

"If I say 'yes', will that bring images to your brain?"

"A shower won't cleanse your soul, I hope you know that." he just replied, ignoring my question.

"Who says my soul needs to be cleansed?"

He raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his lips. I had no idea what he heard in my words, but once again, it felt like he knew something about me that he wasn't allowed to know.

"You got here in the middle of the year, you barely talk to anyone, didn't decorate your side of the room with anything. Everything is so generic with you." he explained, shaking his head slightly. "At first sight, I didn't pin you as a generic kind of girl but that's exactly what you are. It wouldn't surprise me if you told me you're studying to be an accountant or a lawyer."

"Yea, because people with these kinds of job are boring and drab." I let out with sarcasm and a frown.

"See? Once again, you're not telling me anything about you. You're just defending hypothetical people that don't give a shit."

My traits softened and I cleared my throat. Of course he was right, but at the same time, I found out painfully that letting out information about myself could just give weapons to people around me, and that these weapons could end up hurting me. I didn't trust many people, and I didn't trust Niall. Just because I heard him sing one song that made me drown in my own feelings didn't mean that I would now open up to him.

"What are you scared of?" he added in a lower tone after about a minute of silence.

I felt my heartbeats accelerate and swallowed hard. I wanted to let it all out. It was so hard to keep everything inside. I wanted to tell him everything, to express my biggest fears and tell him how much in pain I actually was. But it was Niall Horan, my new roommate and antagonist, and there was no way I would confide in him.

"Nothing."

----

My first class went well and even if it was early in the morning, I was pretty sure I took enough notes to keep up with everything. I hadn't talked to anyone, a bit scared that I would get asked why I actually switched school in the middle of a year, and therefore, haven't made any new friends. I thought about Louis but I knew he couldn't entertain me all the time and that I'd have to make friends with a few people on my classes. I thought about just blatantly lying about the reason I was now in this school and started thinking of a plausible answer during my second class. I was surprised when I was asked to actually paint but since it was not really the beginning of the school year, it was quite normal. I hadn't brought any of my paintings with me. I had decided to leave them all at my old university. I had no idea who had them now, and when I thought about it, I told myself they were probably just in the garbage, where they belonged. I normally keep everything or almost, but these creations didn't reflect who I was anymore, and looking at them only made me feel like shit.

I started my new painting with a lot of dark blue and grey and I was not sure why. Perhaps it just represented the colors of my soul or something cliché like that. It's only on my first class in the afternoon that everything changed.

Art History has always been fascinating to me and I knew that we would get to see a lot of art by many different artists and learn about them and how they changed the artistic world. I wanted to be able to interpret art, from an analytic point of you but also in an emotional way. It was always something that interested me and one of my favorite classes.

The bad thing when you get in a new school is that you know no one. The good thing is... no one knows you. In my case, I enjoyed both for the time being, and I'd try to make friends later... maybe. That's why I was so shocked when I entered the art history class and saw him. I had to put up with him almost every evening, night and morning. Why did I have to, again, in one of my classes?

His eyes met mine and I thought I would see a smirk draw itself on his mouth but instead, his lips opened slightly as if he was surprised to see me there. I took a seat and his eyes followed me, making me suddenly very nervous. He kept staring at me for a while before turning around again and I let my shoulders fall. Would he talk to me? Would he mention anything? Would he tease me?

I blinked a few times when the class started and decided to focus on learning instead of thinking non-stop about my roommate. I got suddenly excited when it was mentioned that we were going to visit a museum and make a paper about it but a bit less happy when I was told it would be in a team of four.

"Devon Eaton with... Daxia Lee, and Asher Johnson and finally, Niall Horan."

I realized I had stopped breathing only when Niall's eyes moved on me again. I thought It could be a great opportunity to meet people and potential new friends, but I hadn't expected this at all. Once again, I was stuck with him.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan au #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan story #niall horan writing #my fanfics #swy

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pixieungerstories · 4 years

Text

Quarantine - 3

Part 1

Part 2

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on. I stared at the ceiling. I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster. Some other living thing in the house. I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,” I muttered to myself. Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream. “Fuck it.” I got undressed and crawled under the covers. I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over. Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?” I wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can. I don’t want to. I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded. “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake. “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge. “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door. I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called. After that they were all looking at me.

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed a smoke. I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god. I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am! Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained. “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month. I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you. Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress. I should go in and at least get my robe. It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them. Prison wouldn’t have Nick. Maybe I just needed a hospital. No. That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off. He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now. You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently. “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen. Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee. When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome. This is temporary. You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall. It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed. I looked at it. Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great. Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,” I mused. “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day. In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down. They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom. The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident. I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal. Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day. No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard. I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking. It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it. My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen. I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around. Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part. You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy. “Yeah. There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around. It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning. I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning. Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere. I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth. I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink. Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck. I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear. “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly. “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick. Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week! It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar. It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything. When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information. I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to. What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette. Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then. This was ridiculous! Shadow monsters didn’t … do that! They didn’t … exist. I was just … this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass. I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp. Now I was cold and damp instead. Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles. ‘Fine. Whatever. Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it. I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France. But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face. “Do you like what he picked out?” She seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Yes? It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install. It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week. I’m not exactly over run with work right now.” She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know. I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah. I understand that. I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that. The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,” Nancy pointed out.

“Ok. Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling. “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this? You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress. My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg. As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished. I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash. That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one. “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself. Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy. Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied. Then he added, “For either of us. And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?” he just sounded curious. The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that. I closed my eyes and he stroked my face. “Let me watch,” he purred. “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open. “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure. I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand. And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian? Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time. And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked. “I’m too damn tired!” I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out. “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him. It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand. “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one. And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time. That’s why I asked you not to. But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to. This is about trust, Nick. I don’t trust you. I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here. You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death. You could smother me with my pillow. Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.” I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas. “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.” He let go of my hand. I turned on the light and looked around the empty house. “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.” It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing. “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep. I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight. I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip. It didn’t always do that. “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat. He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again. It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then. At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.

I wondered how you forge wine.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #oh my god they were quarantined

132 notes · View notes

oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

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Loose Ends | two

⇢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ʟᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ...ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ.

⇢ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ x ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴀssɪsᴛᴀɴᴛ! ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇx-ғɪᴀɴᴄᴇs!ᴀᴜ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇsᴛᴏʟᴏᴠᴇʀs

**A/N: There are errors! Please ignore them! This chapter is a little awkward(imo), but it’s just laying down the foundation but it will pick up. (Word Count: 4.9K)

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《 PAST 》

Y/N:

“So we’re partners?” I said, sitting down at the empty desk. I glanced over at the quiet boy sitting beside me. His head was down and he focused his attention on the black sheet of paper in front of him.

Maybe he was shy? I couldn’t be sure, but what I did know was that I wasn’t planning on slacking off.

They say your freshman year of high school will determine the rest of your years and I will not get off to a bad start. I was already a push-over in middle school, letting myself get tricked into doing all the work. But I am entering high school with a new confidence. I will keep my head high and speak up when I feel wronged.

“Your name is Namjoon right?” I called softly. I leaned over, trying to catch his eye. I knew he could hear me, seeing him side eye me momentarily. He finally lifts up his head and looks my way, showing a shy smile.

As I finally got a good look at him, I couldn’t help but smile. He has high cheekbones, kind eyes that were behind thick circular glasses and his hair is jet black, brush forward and covering his forehead. There are a few pimples on his face, but he’s a cute guy.

“Hi.” He says quietly, his ahead falling back to his desk. He’s shy. I can’t help but giggle, noticing his eyes widen at me. My giggles stop short, my eyes also widening.

“I’m not laughing at you or anything!” I rush out, “I just think you’re...cute.” My giggles start up again, a blush growing throughout his face.

“I’m Y/n.” I stretch my hand out and he shakes it briefly. He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the teacher.

“Alright! I gave you some time to get familiar with your partner! Don’t worry you’ll have time to talk some more! They will be your writing partner for the rest of the school year!” The teacher gives everyone a big smile before turning back to the board.

I settle into my seat, leaning back into the chair and smiling. I can’t help but glance over at the shy boy was didn’t speak much.

《 PRESENT 》

This is cruel. This is unforgiving and devilish. Why should I have to see Kim Namjoon again, let alone work for him?

My gut was telling me to turn down this job, and it wasn’t wrong. I shouldn’t be here. It should have been someone else. Fate couldn’t be this cruel. It just couldn’t. I thought I could have gone another 10 years before I had to lay my eyes on that man again.

I lean my head against the cold metal wall of the elevator. I watched the elevator doors close, leaving me to stare at my own reflection. It’s now day 2. Only 238 more days till this contract is over. I can’t help but chuckle at how ridiculous this situation is.

I finally reach for and press the button for the 23rd floor, the elevator pings and shifts as it went upwards.

I didn’t let my emotional breakdown yesterday stop me. I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself up and walked back into the office, doing the work that was expected of me. I am grateful that I didn’t have to see Mr. Kim again till he was leaving his office for the day. He didn’t spare a look my way.

Maybe he doesn’t recognize me? How much can a person change in 3 years? Or he counts our time together as a different phase of life? He probably doesn’t see the need to mention the elephant in the room. Rather let sit there, and bother both of us. He thinks it bothers me more and if he does, he’s right.

Today I wore a long sleeved mustard yellow blouse that was tucked in into my black and white houndstooth pattern pencil skirt. It’s not a look I usually go for, but I wanted anything to distract from the dread that was clear on my face. The outfit was cute and the colors worked wonderfully, so I praise myself for that.

I looked down at my peach-nude heels and thanked god that it matched. I was practically a zombie as I walked out the house today. I couldn’t remember what shoes I put on. My hair was down and I kept my make-up natural.

My purse hung on my shoulder, only carrying my schedule book for Mr. Kim, my phone, keys and wallet. The elevator dinged once more, and the doors slid open to show the pearl white walls. It’s day two. Another fresh start. The past doesn’t matter here. Just work performance.

I stepped through the doors and started down the hallway. As I hear the clicking of my heels, my nervousness vanishes. I am simply an assistant. As long as Mr. Kim plays it cool, so should I. He doesn’t owe me anything.

“Good morning.” I called as I walked in. My words stopped short as I realized that Sana wasn’t there. I look at the watch on my wrist. It’s twenty to eight. I guess I am a bit early, but that’s better than late. Most employees don’t start coming in till about 8:30. Mr. Kim arrives somewhere between 8 am and 8:30am.

I grab my schedule book and set my bag under the desk. I wasn’t too out of it yesterday to forget to write my to-do list. I turn on the computer and my desk and look through my email to find the needed documents. I want to have them done before anyone else can get in my way.

I sent the documents to the printer and soon found myself moving back and forth in the office. I walk through the double doors that lead to the cubicles of the employees and go to the copy room. I’m making copies and finding folders to pack them into. It didn’t feel strange with it being just me in the office.

It feels better to work in silence, with less people around me. After printing, copying and organizing all the documents, I made my way towards the empty conference room and spread the folders out.

Mr. Kim has a meeting with some employees about the books that were to be published in the next 3 months. That meeting is followed by another meeting on authors to sign with. I printed and copied the documents for the second meeting. I took those folders back with me. They were stacked in my arms, and blocked my view.

I managed to waltz into the lobby area and to my desk just before they started slipping out of my hands. I grabbed the empty white box that once held my belongings and dropped the folders in there.

I stood up straight, smoothing my skirt and reaching for my schedule book on what to do next.

I took a seat and started sending out emails. It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps approaching, Heels clicked in a speedy matter, the jiggling of keys mimicking the quick movement. Sana comes around the corners in sand colored dress pants and an ivory white blouse. Her keys are in her hands and her bag is clutched in the other hand.

“Oh you’re here!” She wails, through her hands up as if saying thank you to a higher power.

“I forgot I’m not the only secretary anymore.” She mutters as she walks towards the desk. I resume typing up the emails, giving Sana a pointed look as she plopped into her seat.

“Sana, get in the habit of coming in early. I was able to do the needed work for the morning on my own, but it won’t always be like that.”

She nods, still catching her breath, “Or course! I don’t want to slack off! I want to learn from you.” She lazily tosses her bag on the floor and switches her computer on. Her acrylic nails tap against the desk as she hums a tune to herself.

“Let me help prepare the meeting docu--”

“Done.” I deadpan. She narrows her eyes at me and a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips.

“Seriously?” She was in disbelief.

“Yes,” I answered, sparing a glance.

“And the deadline emails?” She questioned, leaning over to sneak a glance at my computer screen.

“That’s what I am doing now.”

“Wow, Y/n! You’re killing it!”

I try to keep from rolling my eyes, “The sooner you do things, the smoother they run. Once Mr. Park arrives, I’m going to get the financial report of the previous quarters and make copies for the meeting with Jung Hoseok of Jung Funding.”

“That meeting isn’t till 3.” Sana points out like I’d forgotten.

“Do we have to wait till 2 pm to get started on that?” I raise my eyebrows at her as she shakes her head no.

“Exactly.” I answer back.

“What if Mr. Kim changes something at the last minute?” She leans back in her seat, a grimace appearing on her lips while she looks off to the side. She must have dealt with something like that previously.

I sigh, “Then we just go with it. It happens, there is nothing that can be done about it.”

I press send on the last email, check the time on the computer. It’s 8:20 am. Mr. Kim should be on his way in--

“Get started on the documents for the first meeting. It’s been moved up 30 minutes.” His voice cut through the lobby like a knife. The light weight atmosphere created by small talk was stepped on by his demanding presence.

“They have been completed sir.” I stood up from my seat as he walked in, walking like he was taking a stroll in the park.

His steps stop, and he puts both hands into the pocket of his pants. His outfit today was missing the coat. He wore a white dress shirt with a dark grey vest and pants that matched. He kept his head down, giving us a view of his profile.

I try to ignore the pounding in my ears as I stare at him, waiting to hear what he says. I work to keep my breathing under control since it felt like my heart slamming itself against my rib cage.

“You’ve done that already?”

“Yes sir--”

“And the paperwork for the potential authors meeting?”

“That is done as well.” I answered back, keeping my tone neutral while giving a friendly smile. I hope it didn’t look as stiff as it felt.

He doesn’t say anything else and trods into his office.

“He was totally looking for something to be angry about.” Sana says in an annoyed tone.

I don’t reply but sit back down in my seat, sorting through emails. I can’t be sure how much time goes by before I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. This time it’s accompanied by chatter and laughter. The sounds get louder and a big group of employees turn the corner.

Did they all wait to come up at the same time? There were about 9 of them. They were chatting among themselves but it seems there was on person who was the center of all that talk. A man I haven’t seen before.

“Mr. Park?” I called out. It was a guess, but I wasn’t left feeling stupid as the man stops mid laugh, He looks around then meets my questioning expression. The two women that stood around didn’t hide their glares. I ignored them, looking at my computer screen for a moment before standing up from my seat.

“Good morning Mr. Park, I am--”

“Y/n L/n.” He cuts me off, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Wow. What a good looking man. He must be a charmer, and with how the women of the office flock around him...he’s trouble. His hair was jet black and parted to the side and slicked back. He wore a sharp black suit with a white dress shirt underneath.

He carried a suitcase that he handed to one of the women that were clinging to him. The woman gladly takes it.

“You’re the new administrative assistant right? I’ve heard a lot.” He says while flirtatious light comes to his eyes. I don’t miss the way his eyes move along my face and body. His attention is brought back up to my eyes and he smiles innocently like he wasn’t just checking me out.

“I need the financial reports for the last eight quarters. If you could please gather that up and email it to me.” I sat back down to grab a sticky note, jotting down my email and holding it out.

He takes slow steps towards the desk, and since my patience is short this morning, I simply stick the note to the desk surface.

When he takes the note from the desk, I can feel his eyes on me. I look up from the computer screen to see the smile on his lips widen.

“I am Park Jimin, but you can call me Jimin.”

I exhale, taking my hands off the keyboard and leaning back in my seat, “Mr. Park, I need those reports quickly.”

“Don’t let his smile fool you, Mr. Park is not a man to get wrapped up in.” Sana mutters from beside me. I noticed the women that were glaring at me earlier entering into the employees area, through me another stank look before letting the doors close behind them. More employees were slowly making their way in for work, not of them batting an eye at Mr. Park who was leaning against the desk.

“It takes a lot more to fool me than a smile.” I said to Sana.

“You heard her Mr. Park, you’d be wasting your time.” Sana jeers. Mr. Park doesn’t acknowledge her words at all, only slowly stepping away from the desk then turning around to walk into the employees area.

“Looks like Mr. Park has set his eyes on you.” Sana says, still looking through some paperwork.

“That doesn’t feel like a good thing.” I sneer.

She chuckles, “It’s not.”

The next hour goes by smoothly. Not instructions or emails from Mr. Kim and Mr. Park sent the reports over. I am in the process of printing and copying them when I hear a booming voice.

I step out of the copy room just in time to see other employees shying away from the voice. I can’t help but sigh as I realize it’s probably Mr. Kim. Ugh. He’s found something to be angry about and it isn’t even noon.

“Ms. L/n!” A voice roars. I roll my eyes knowing what’s coming. I’ve been yelled at many times, so there is nothing Mr. Kim could do to faze me.

“Yes?” I call out delightedly. I keep my voice light as I round the corner to see him stalking down the aisle.

The angry look on his face with the hands on his hips tells me all I need to know. His ears are turning red, as they usually do when he’s angry, and his brows are furrowed. The creases in his forehead as he glares at me, ages him a bit.

“Why am I getting phone calls from angry authors?” He yells. Everyone around me flinches as he shouts. I can only stare up at him with a blank facial expression, not moving an inch as he yells at me.

He steps closer, a familiar cologne whisking off of him. Not overbearing, but present enough that you want to lean in to smell more.

“I am not sure sir. I do not have a complete understanding of the situation.” I answered calmly. Employees around us were pretending to work, but it was clear that they were listening in. I notice Mr. Park watching from a distance, his facial expression unreadable.

“The deadlines you emailed were incorrect! These dates are impractical! 2 weeks? Come on Ms. L/n! Use your head! I thought you were supposed to be smart.” He hisses. I can say, I have never seen Namjoon like this. The Namjoon I knew would never raise his voice like this, at least not in front of other people.

I cleared my throat and answered back confidently, “I will send the deadlines to you for correcting sir.”

I watched his face contort in confusion, “Excuse me? To me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“Well, those are the deadlines you wrote up for me sir. I was not aware that the dates were incorrect, for it was only my first day. I am so sorry for the stress that was caused to your authors. I will email each other apologizing for the mix up.”

“You have some nerve. Ms. L/n, are saying this is my fault?” His voice is quieter this time, but the menacing tone didn’t flatter.

I smile sweetly, “Of course not sir! I will simply issue apologies to the authorities and make sure the correct deadlines are given to them.”

“Don’t even email them. Call them personally.” He adds.

“Of course, sir.” I nod. The whole office I silent as I keep the appearance of my small smile, holding the folders close to my chest as he glares at me in silence. Though it isn't showing in my face, it felt like my heart could explode in that moment.

Who is this man? So familiar but so foreign.

“When you’re done with your paperwork, come to my office.” It felt like he was towering over me, and for once I can feel the difference in levels. This is not Kim Namjoon, the dorky boy I knew in 9th grade English. This is Mr. Kim, wealthy CEO of KM-Moonchild Publishing.

“Of course sir.” I reply before he turns around and exits the way he came in. I simply shrug and turn around to go back into the copy room when someone calls out to me.

“You really talked back to er. Kim like that?” It was a female voice. I groaned, spinning around to face the voice. It was a woman with dark red hair and a black and white jumpsuit. She was pretty. Her figure was slim with an hourglass shape. Her hair was in gracious waves that effortlessly rested on her shoulders and down to the middle of her. I'm certain that she’s one of the girls that were gossiping about me yesterday.

I stared at her, and I’m sure my gaze came off as bored, because I was. I don't care what this lady has to say. It’s nothing of use.

“I was just having a conversation with Mr. Kim. A conversation requires two people to speak.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, “You have no respect! It’s one thing to think you’re better than us, but can your ego relax. Mr. Kim isn’t someone to--”

“I am not here to be lectured. I have work to do. I haven’t been fired yet,when I am I will make sure to come and cry that you were right so that your ego can get the boost it needs.” I try not to laugh at the expression on her face but a slight chuckle leaves my lips as I turn into the copy room.

I hum to myself as the copy machine does it’s job, being and humming as it does so. I’m tapping my fingers against the buzzing machine when I sense a presence behind me.

“Yes?” I called out, looking over to spot Mr. Park leaning against the doorway with a smug smile.

I bit my tongue to keep back the groan that wanted to leave my lips. Not this guy again. I already feel the need to have HR on speed dial.

“Are you here to bother me?” I say out, and turn my back to him again. It’s quiet for a while before I heard a soft sigh.

“I’m not here to start any trouble, I just think it’s very cool the way you handled things back there.” His tone was different from when we spoke earlier.

“I always handle things. Mr. Kim is no different from the other people I have worked for. I have been yelled at many times.” I grab the newly printed papers and turn to face Mr. Park just so I could place the papers on the table. I started my second batch of copying before he spoke again.

“You’re not worried about being fired?”

I shrug, pushing another button on the machine, “I’ve already been paid 50% of my contract payment, so I could care less. Mr. Kim only has me for eight months.”

“Eight months huh? That’s too bad.” He mutters to himself.

~!~

“He’s so gonna fire you.” Sana whispers to me. I don’t look away from my computer, typing up the emails for the new deadlines that were sent to me by Mr. Kim. He must have realized he was in the wrong, seeing how the corrected deadlines were sent to me before I could return to my desk from the copy room. But when I returned to the desk, Mr. Kim was in his first meeting of the day. So here I sat with Sana who had heard about what happened as one of the women were giggling about it on their way out the office.

“Let’s hope he does.” I mumble. Sana hears me, looking my way and pouting.

“Do you not like it here?”

“It doesn’t matter if I hate it here or not, it’s my work.” I didn’t think much of it when Sana didn’t say anymore. I was finishing up the email with the new deadlines when some heavy footsteps came from the employee area, and the double doors opened to reveal Mr, Kim who was being trailed by some employees.

I could see them out of the corner of my eyes. I focused on the computer screen once more, pretending I didn’t notice the glance my way from Mr. Kim. The two men stand in the middle of the lobby speaking about the meeting that just ended.

I spend the last deadline email and turn to another page in my scheduling book to begin the apology phone calls. That doesn’t go far because Sana nudges me with her arm. When I look at her, she’s looking forward. I follow her gaze to see Mr. Kim practically glaring at me.

“Ms. L/n, my office please.” He says. His voice was too neutral for the scowled that was burned onto his face. I didn’t get the chance to respond before he spun around and zoomed into his office.

I stood up, smoothing my skirt and grabbing my scheduling book. I ignored Sana’s puppy dog's eyes, seeing as she was scared for me.

I strolled to the heavy wooden doors, knocked and opened it to see him standing behind his desk.He hands were behind his back and he was zoned out. His attention was elsewhere and his mind was far off somewhere else.

I closed the door behind me and fought back the smile curling at the corner of my lips. The lost look on his face reminds me of Namjoon from high school. The smart boy who would daydream in class.

“Mr. Kim?” I call out. His neck snaps up and his eyes grow hard and dark. The gentle expression on his face was no more.

I approached his desk, holding the schedule book close to my chest.

“You wanted to speak to me?” I say, feeling nervousness bubbling up in me. Something about the atmosphere has shifted. By the look in his eyes, I know what he's going to do.

“Why are you here?” He asks in an icy tone. I raise an eyebrow at him, pretending to be clueless.

“What do you mean Mr. Kim? If this is about the deadline--”

“Y/n, cut the shit.” He deadpans. I press my lips into a tight line, gripping the schedule book tighter and clear my throat.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Did you come here to torture me?” He says quickly, ignoring my attempt at feigning ignorance. My face scrunches up in offense. I took a step back before shaking my head in disbelief.

What the fuck? He thinks I came here on purpose?

“I came here to work.” I hiss, “I didn’t know a damn thing about this job when I got the offer. You think’d I take the job I knew I would see you?”

He runs his fingers through his hair and I watch him intently, waiting for him to speak again. When he doesn't voice my thoughts.

“I came here to work. Not to torture you, not to bug you. I couldn’t care less about you and what you’re doing. Separate work from personal and keep it moving.”

“Of course that’s easy for someone as heartless as yourself.” He jeers, laughing humorless. My breath catches in my throat and I take a second to collect myself. That one stung a little bit.

“Insulting me isn’t going to change anything.” I kept my voice level, hoping that the trembles that were starting to climb up my body wouldn’t show in my voice.

His eyes narrow at me, one corner of his lips turning up in a sinister smile. The loathing touch to his sharp eyes made me feel small in that moment.

“You’re standing here talking to me like a fucking robot. Does seeing me not invoke any sort of emotion?”

“I am just here to work, Mr. Kim.” I repeat for the third time, mustering a strained smile. I try not to think back to the crying fit I had the day before. The shock of seeing Namjoon truly took everything out of me, but it doesn’t matter. Things couldn’t go back to normal even if we wanted it to. Too much damage has been done.

“If that’s all sir, I’ll be taking my leave. I have authors to call and apologize to.” My legs feel shaky when I take the first step to turn around, and I stumble a bit. I catch myself, and just pray that Namjoon chucks it up to losing the balance of my heels.

“How is your sister doing?” He rushes out, like he wanted to keep me from leaving the room. I put my hand on my doorknob debating what to reply.

“I’m not going to pretend to care about the current state of your life, so don’t pretend to care about mine.”

“I am not--” I open the door and step out quickly, letting the door close on it’s own. My quick trot to the desk made Sana gaze at me with sad eyes.

“That was quick. It was probably a rough lecture wasn’t it?”

I plop down in my seat, “Nothing I can’t handle.” I lied.

I’m lying. I can’t handle this.

∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ❣

Things are a bit awkward, in terms of the writing but it’ll get there. More info will be revealed later.

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! How do you feel about this story?

#kim namjoon #bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #bts angst #bts fan fic #bts ff #bts reactions #bts scenarios #kim namjoon angst #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader

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roseelise · 4 years

Text

“You are a living work of art, Jughead Jones.” J.J (part 2)

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise.

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog.

Pairing:Jughead Jones x reader

Word Count: 2265

Author’s note/warnings: language, kissing?

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

“Would I be naked ?” “No, of course not, I want you to feel comfortable. You’ll probably be just shirtless.” I said hope bubbling inside of me. “Who’s gonna be there ?” “Us. Only you and I. I swear.” “Alright I’ll do it. But you owe me.” He said before letting himself fall on my bed.

“Jug ! Juggie !” I called for him in the school’s hallway.

“Hey.” He turned around and saw the way I was dressed. “So,-” “What the hell happened to you ?” He asked as he saw that I was wearing a baby blue pyjama pants and a yellow flannel. “Yeah, hum, I’ve been up all night to put up some sketches before we do the shoot.” I talked really fast. “What are you running on to talk like that ?” He let out a low chuckle. “A few cups of black coffee.” I said as the bell rung. “But you don’t even like coffee.” “I know. Anyway Ms.Evans, that’s my art teacher, gave us two other weeks to do it because she wants multiple shots for each student.” “How many do YOU want ?” He smiled at me knowingly. “What’s that supposed to mean ?” I asked as I hurried my already late self to my locker. Jughead hot on my trail. “I know you, if your teacher wants three shots, you’ll do ten so that after you’ll be able to choose three of them and the rest you’ll put it in the album you keep on you computer.” He glanced down at my body and shook his head.

As I rolled my eyes, we entered the class with B and V.

When we all arrived at my house after school, Archie and Veronica placed themselves on the love seat, Betty and I went in the kitchen for glasses of water while Jug looked in my fridge for some kind of heavy snack.

“Ok guys so, friday night ! What do we do ?” I asked my two best friends.

They shrugged and we joined Archie and Veronica in the living room, who were in a full make out session.

“Come on !” Jughead sighed. “You guys are unbelievable.” Betty mumbled.

Seeing that neither of them moved I sat next to them and pulled Ronnie away from the redhead and made her sit on me.

“You won’t move anymore.”

We were three in the love seat Betty was laying on the three seat couch, almost sleeping and Jughead was sitting on the smallest couch that would normally fit only one human being.

“I wanna watch a movie. What should we watch ?” Ronnie said standing up. “Hum.. So- (y\n) ? Where are all of your movies ?” “There ..?! Why ?” “Because there’s only old stuff.” “Yeah, because that’s what I watch. Just put Pulp Fiction on and it’ll be good.” “I don’t get you guys ..” She sighed standing up and coming to sit with Arch and I. “What ?” “Jug and you. You guys have that obsession with old movies.” “They’re great.” We both said at the same time, looked at each other and it made me blush a bit.

Half an hour after we started the movie, Arch and Ronnie were taking a lot of place on the love seat and Betty was completely asleep on the couch. I took a heavy blanket and sat on the floor, my back against Betty’s couch.

“Tss” I heard to my left.

I looked up and Jug was frowing at me.

“What ?” I asked in a whisper. “What are you doing on the floor ?” He asked in the same tone. “There’s no place.” “Come sit with me.”He patted is lap. “What no, you’ve got just enough room for yourself.” “I don’t care come on “Jughead I said no. I’m ok here.”

After another twenty minutes my butt started to feel numb, so I stood up and walked to my best friend who had placed himself so I could sit on his lap, his arms finding their place around my wait resting on my lap.

“Jug what time is it ?” “Barely 5:45.” He whispered.

I looked at our friends, Betty was still sound asleep on our right, Archie and Veronica were talking quietly.

“We’re the only ones listening.” I noticed as I turned to look at him.

He turned at the same time and our noses would have brushed together if one of us moved.

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

Our heads were still turned toward each other. Like in some sort of trance we couldn’t get out of.

“I’m- i’m quite hungry right now, uhm, would you like something ?” I asked him as his eyes went from my (y\e\c) eyes to my lips. “I’- i’m good. Thanks.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I walked to the kitchen and drank a glass of water.

“We saw that.” Veronica said. “Saw what ?” “That almost kiss between you and Jughead. Archie and I saw it.” “That was nothing.” “Yeah sure. I haven’t seen someone glance at someone else’s lips so many times.” She winked at me when Betty’s sleppy body got in the kitchen. “I think the boys are plotting against us.” “Why ?” I asked. “When I woke up, you guys weren’t there and Arch was talking to Jug with a smug look on his face and when I stood up they stopped.” “Do you know what they were talking about ?” V asked B. “Heard your name, why ?” Betty pointed to me. “Because our little (y\n) had a moment a few minutes ago.” “WHAT ?” She shrieked. “Shut up jesus and Ronnie it wasn’t a moment.” “Yeah sure. You guys were almost eyes fucking with your bottom lip bitten by your teeth and his eyes looking more at your lips than me when I look at Louboutins.” “Oh my god really ? You guys had a momen-” I threw her a piece of bread when the boys came in.

“What are you girls talking about ?” Archie asked looking at his raven haired girlfriend. “N-nothing that concerns you.” I said not bothering to look at Jughead. “What about Jug. Does it concern him ?” “W-what ? No ! It’s none of your business what we were talking about.” I said turning my body towards the fridge.

From an outsider point of view the five teenagers would be living a whole other story.

He’d see a red head and a raven headed couple trying to break two of their best friends, they would see a blonde girl, an amused look on her face along with one of pure concern for her (y\h\c) friend, talking about her. The outsider would look at the teenager and think that she was being scolded by her parents. She wouldn’t look up to the raven haired boy, nor would she muttered more than a few words.

But then, he would see the infamous raven haired boy, who couldn’t take his eyes off of his best friend. He’d look at her like she was the most beautiful person in the whole world and she was, to him. Because he knew her inside and out. Jughead never really thought about her that way, he always knew he liked the girl, that he had a crush on her, but when, a few minutes ago, he was so close to her. He knew that he loved her and that he had been gone for quite a while.

It was around dinner time, when everyone was gone except her model for the night, that she started to draw ideas for him to do later that night.

“You know you’ll have to talk to me, sometimes, right ?” Jughead asked from his sitting position on her bed. “I know.” She muttered still not looking at him.

Her whole body stiffened when she felt his warmth on her back.

“What are you doing, Jug ?” She breathed out. “Glad you still remember my name.” He chuckled, which made her chuckled too. “You’re not funny.” She said as her whole body relaxed at the familiarity of their exchange. “I am, you know it and you love it.” “Why so confident ?” She asked him as she turned to face him, but was surprised when she saw that he was at the same heigh as her.

She took back her pencils and paper and walked away from him as she sat on her bed.

“Ok so I thought we could accentuate the features on your abdomen, your jaw and your cheekbones.” She said, voice low, sketching over a poorly done portrait of the man. “You’re not gonna put make up on me are you ?” “I don’t really have make up, Jug. I’ll use body paint with warm tones a little bit darker than your skin color. Then I’ll just put colors all over and take some shots at certain steps so it creates a bit of diversity.”

He nodded then sighed before taking another bite of the now cold pizza on the dresser. He helped her set up her photography equipment, such as the lights and the different lenses.

“Can I- Jug, can I abuse of the opportunity you’re giving me this week end and- “ “What do you want me to do, (y\n) ?” “I want you to, full on model for me. Like the big actors do.” She asked searching his face for any denial.

He knew he couldn’t exactly tell her no. He wasn’t able to do it.

“Inspired by some of the James Dean’s photo I saw the other day.” She informed him. “James Dean ? Have you seen the guy ?” “Yes, in fact I did.” “And you think -” “Jug, listen to me and if you start reciting me the “I’m a weirdo” speech I swear on my own head that I’ll burn that beanie down to ashes. You are one of the most beautiful person I’ve had the chance to see in my whole freaking life and I don’t know how you still don’t see that.”

She said before going to her closet and getting out clothing of leather, dark outfits and all sorts of accessories and clothes.

“Is that a cigarette ?” “Yes, but you won’t light it. It’s just for the aesthetics.”

Five hours later the traits were accentuated, shirts have been on and off and lights have been adjusted. She was finally done and told him that if she had to make some touch ups, she’ll text him.

“Ok, so what do you wanna do ?” She asked him as he got out of the ensuite bathroom.

She raised her head from the editing program on her laptop to see Jughead shirtless, even though she had seen him without a shirt all night long it was different because she was in a work mode, but now. He was ruffling his dark hair with a towel and was dressed with a flannel pajama pants that started to get lower on his hips.

He sat on the bed in front of her and looked at her, his eyes observing every single detail of her face. He leaned in and searched her eyes for any non-verbal refusal from her. When he saw she was too focused on his lips he finally connected them together.

His lips, surprisingly soft, had this subtle taste of the sugary juice he drank a few minutes before his shower, her nose was filled with the scent of her shower gel he used. It wasn’t one of those Hollywood kisses where theres was big fireworks and where their hearts were beating hard and fast. They both knew it was the right time and place for this closed lips kiss. A few seconds after, they pulled apart and smiled softly at each other. They were content with what happened and knew to never talk about it.

“Blonde.” She whispered. “What ?” “Blonde would look good on you. It would fit your eyes.” She smiled at him.

The week that passed was complete hell, (y\n) hadn’t properly seen her friends except from the time when they were in school. Outside of those hours she would be at the studio, developping her photos and getting help with other minor projects. She also had tons of homework to do, Betty recently asked her to helped her on the Blue and Gold and be their official photographer. Between all of that she didn’t really have time to hang-out with her friends, also she was asleep by 8:30 so that really didn’t help. Saturday morning, (y\n) went out, seeing as this was her only moment of calm and walked, camera hung around her neck she snapped sceneries that would look good on her already full bedroom wall.

“Hey there stranger.” She heard a voice say.

She turned around to see her three friends.

“Hi guys !” She greeted them with a smile. “So, you’re avoiding us now or what ?” Ronnie asked her. “No, no guys I swear. I’m sorry if you thought that-” She dropped the camera on her stomach. “(Y\N\N), it’s fine. We were just wondering what happened to you this week so.” “Yeah, sorry about that. Miss Evans liked Jug’s portrait so much she asked me to help other students and finish other projects and it was just crazy.” “Right, so what are you doing ?” “Abusing of the calm that reigns over Riverdale. Hey have you seen Jug ? Haven’t talked to him in a bit.” “Well we were heading to Pop’s actually. Wanna join ?” “Sure”

#PLL GIFS #pretty little liars gifs #Jughead Jones III #jughead jones #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones x y/n #r0s3mm #repost #part 2 #part two #riverdale #archie comics #masterlist #2-h #smut #fluff #angst

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

Cosmic Clowns, Part 2

A Sunday evening surprise. You can find Part 1 HERE!

On Wednesday, Alex gets to work and walks right under his newly refurbished sign without so much as a glance. Liz and Maria have both beat him to the office so the coffee is already brewing. When he walks into their tiny kitchen nook, he’s surprised to find not just Liz and Maria but Michael Guerin, too. The three of them already fast friends, heads leaning together like co-conspirators planning their next attack. It makes Alex uneasy. And if he’s being honest – jealous.

‘Hey Alex!’ Liz breaks herself away and gives him a quick hug. ‘We were just getting to know our new handyman. Did you see Michael fixed the sign?’

Alex shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I hadn’t noticed.’ He can hear how gruff he sounds. Tries to do better. ‘I’m sure it looks great.’

Michael smiles at him and pours the first cup of coffee, adds a splash of creamer and no sugar. Hands the cup to Alex. ‘No big deal. Just tightened a couple of the electrical connections, switched out the busted light bulbs, and welded the cracks along the bottom.’

‘And a new coat of paint! I love the color. Noticed it from blocks away.’ Maria pours her own cup of coffee and elbows Michael in the side. ‘He’s definitely worth whatever you’re paying him. Maybe more.’

He watches Michael wink down at her. Diverts his eyes and clears his throat. ‘Well, we’ve all got work to do. Files to clean up. So.’ He spins on his one heel and walks away. Desperately seeking the refuge of his office. But he can feel someone following him. Knows it’s Michael. Hates that it’s Michael.

Neither says anything until Alex is situated at his desk, laptop back in place and booting up. ‘I’ve made a list of things that could use your attention. Should keep you busy for a while.’ He searches for the file on his computer, avoids looking up at Michael.

‘That’s cool. Actually, I made a list, too. Based on the things I noticed Monday night. Hope you don’t mind.’ He pulls a small spiral notebook from his back pocket and flips through the pages. Hands it over to Alex.

The list is obnoxiously long. But not inaccurate. Except for the last item. Level Alex’s desk. ‘My desk is perfectly level.’

‘My ass begs to differ.’ He flounces out of the room. Alex watches him go, not at all enjoying the view.

He returns with a level. And a shit-eating grin. Alex crosses his arms over his chest and wonders if he’s ever going to get any work done again. Especially as Michael walks behind him, arms coming around him, placing the level down on the desk in front of Alex. He’s so close Alex can smell his shampoo and the pleasant musk he’s beginning to recognize as particular to Michael.

Alex almost gasps when Michael’s chin lands on his shoulder, curls brushing along his neck. Poised to watch and wait as the level evens out. ‘Ha!’ The desk is not level. By a millimeter. Michael literally pumps his fist in the air. Alex bites his lip to keep from smiling.

‘That’s not enough to matter. I don’t even notice.’ But Michael just smirks at him and places a pencil at one end of the table. His eyes never leave Alex’s face as the pencil slowly rolls across the desk and onto the floor.

‘Fine.’ Alex sighs loudly. ‘You can fix my desk. And everything else on your list.’ He hands the notebook back to Michael. ‘Maybe you should stop by Liz and Maria’s desks, as well. Wouldn’t want any more pencils rolling themselves off cliffs.’

Michael looks like he wants to say something. Alex raises an eyebrow at him. But Michael just shrugs his shoulders and starts walking backwards toward the door. ‘Let me know if that desk gets any worse. I’m more than happy to move you up the list, boss.’ And then he’s gone.

Alex opens the last client folder he’d been working on Monday evening. Needs to clean up the tax documents and load them all into his filing software. But he can’t concentrate and so instead opens a new, fresh folder naming it ‘Guerin’. Michael’s 1099s are still scattered across his desk. He spends the rest of the morning completing Michael’s tax return.

Once the return is finished, he closes the folder and hides it in the blandly labelled ‘misc’ file on his desktop. Decides to wait a while before he submits the return, before he even tells Michael it’s done. Tries not to think too hard about the why of that decision.

At noon, Liz knocks on his door and throws herself in one of the leather chairs across from him. ‘I cleaned up all the small biz returns and they’re ready to be filed. Maria and I are taking Michael out to lunch. Want to come? It’s chilorio day at the Crashdown. And you love my dad’s chilorio.’

He wants to go. Badly. But he shakes his head. ‘Too much to catch up on. But here.’ He pulls out his wallet and throws some cash on the table. ‘Lunch is on me. And some of that chilorio to go, please.’

Liz sighs as she pockets the cash. ‘You need to get out more, Alex. Maria and I are your friends. And we’re concerned by how much you stay cooped up in this dusty old office. Plus, Michael’s hot.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ He can feel his ears turning red. Thanks a higher power his hair is long enough now to mostly cover the offensive blush.

‘Nothing.’ But she’s giving him a very meaningful look.

Alex shakes his head aggressively at her. ‘No matchmaking, Liz. Do you hear me? Remember the last time Maria tried hooking up with that alien obsessed long-haul trucker and love me more than that.’

‘Sure thing, boss.’ She looks anything like it’s a sure thing.

Maria and Michael pop their heads through the doorway. ‘Ready? I have a mighty need for some melted cheese. And Michael’s never been to the Crashdown which is a travesty. You coming, Alex?’

She’s looking at him pointedly. So is Liz. So is Michael. The peer pressure almost gets him, but he chickens out at the last minute. ‘You guys go ahead. I’ll be here when you get back with my chilorio.’

Liz and Maria are clearly disappointed. And he swears Michael looks a little disappointed, too. An urgent need to run after them bubbles up in his chest briefly, but he swallows it down and refocuses on his work. The wink Michael gave Maria earlier replays through his mind. Now would be a really bad time to fall for a straight man. Not that there’s ever a good time to fall for a straight man.

Alex places a pencil on one side of his desk and watches it roll across the surface, slowly gaining speed. And then it falls, landing soundlessly on the carpeted floor.

#malex #malex fic #cosmic clowns cpa #pure joy to write

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statticscribbles · 4 years

Text

Ghost

Summary: Kurtz/Reader Request: using the song Ghost by Jacob Lee

You nudge the window open, letting the sound of the rain offset the music you have faintly playing. You pull the book closer to you, balancing your notebook on the chairs arm as you scribble notes and quote ideas for your english essay. You frown when you smell smoke wrinkling your nose as you stand on the chair about to close the window. You hesitate when you hear talking, nervous about being spotted, you don’t think anyone who’s out back behind the school smoking wants some random person eavesdropping.

You catch the eye of the figure under the window, when you stick your arm out to close it. “Hey there.” You don’t say anything closing the window sharply; you can hear his laugh muffled now; your face heats up as you try to shake the thought of his smile. You focus back to your book not moving when the bell rings and ignoring the look from the librarian. You knows she won’t actually kick you out. You’re distracted, humming even though your playlist ended hours ago and you’re halfway through the last chapter when a hand nudges it out of your grip, folding over the corner. “Missing lunch isn’t healthy.” You freeze at the voice from the boy under the window.

“Kurtz.” He smiles again holding his hand out. You smile back shaking it. “This is where you tell me your name..” He nods and you jerk back as the Ghoulies pull him away from you. “Kurtz come on; Lance said the Serpent’s are itching for a fight. You can play later.” James, one of the head Ghoulies shoves him towards the door. He nods turning from you; you watch his smile replaced by a frown and brush it off as him being upset about however he was going to play, you shiver at the implication and tuck your book into your bag; deciding to take his advice and make your way to the lunch room. You settle for breezing by it, hearing the screaming and laughing; you know there’s at least one fight happening.

You keep your head down like usual. Staying in the library whenever you get the chance. You keep the window open where you sit; refusing to admit to yourself you’re hoping to hear more of Kurtz, to find an excuse to talk to him. You catch him smoking and each time he offers you a half smile rolling his eyes when you jerk the window closed. He’d been sick the past few days, or maybe the rain had been too heavy, whatever reason he wasn’t at his usual spot and you tried to mask your disappointment.

You watch a figure stumble in, soaked and dripping on the carpet you watch as they stagger towards the back, near the computer room. You think you can hear them muffle a scream. You stand and move towards the room they most likely went into. You step through the doors watching nervously as a figure slumped against one of the tables looks up. “Hey.” You frown at how his voice slurs, you wince as you notice the blood on the side of his cheek. “Don’t worry about it, from the fight in the cafeteria.” “That was weeks ago.” You speak and he smiles wincing as you can see the cut on his cheek reopens. “Kurtz, what happened?” “Nothing.” He leans forward, letting your hand brush against his cheek. “Let me help?” You half question, pulling a cloth out and wiping is carefully against his cheek. “Sorry it’s not the best, but that doesn’t look near as bad with that blood gone.” You assure him and he nods. “Thank you.”

“Y/n. Are you alright? I thought I heard you scream earlier, was that just the pain?” “Yeah pain.” He seems to tense, you can see it in his shoulders. You nod to him, trying to convey you wont talk more about it. “It’s nothing just a stupid Ghoul thing.” You hum slightly nodding for him to continue. “Part of being with them. Have to go against one of the higher members at random times. Lance thought it’d be funny to throw me against Shank.” “Shank?” “No one you should concern yourself with.” “Most would say the same about you, you know that right?” He laughs nodding. “You want me to look at that later today?” “You trying to ask to come over?” You look to the ground nodding. “If you want.” “We got partnered on that history project anyways.” “History project?” “Yeah if you ever went to class you’d know.” “I go to class, sometimes.” He laughs and you can’t help but smile with pride.

You’re standing by the flag pole nervously watching the group of Ghoulies, you can tell they’re waiting for someone, and when Kurtz steps out they straighten up. Seeing his back you manage to get a proper look at the jacket he sports, black leather all the way around, a few studs against the back, around the patch of a skull wrapped with chains. You frown at the Ghoul mark but wait wondering if he’s going to turn. He doesn’t but you can see him talking, pointing back towards the school. One of the ghouls nods towards you and you look away, you can see Kurtz look back at you and nod, the other Ghoulies shaking there heads and pulling him away. You can see him pull back from them and you try your best not to look to hopeful when he turns towards you. One of them reaches out and tugs him back, looping there arm around him and grinning darkly at you. You can feel a hand on your shoulder once Kurtz disappears from your vision. “He’s useless to concern yourself with.” Is hissed into your ear, by the time you turn to where the voice comes from you’re alone by the flag pole once more.

You watch Kurtz closer after that, you fingers drumming against the desk as you sit in the back of history, he nudges you when the bell rings and you walk slightly behind him as he makes his way to English, you’re surprised to see he shares it with you and the teacher seems even more surprised to see you sitting in your seat next to him. “Come over today.” He hums flicking through the copy of Brave New World. “I thought we were reading Fahrenheit 451.” “ That’s next semesters-“ The teacher rolls his eyes as you nudge the bookmark back in place, three chapters from finishing. “Brave New World it is. Yay orgies and drugs.” Kurtz snorts smiling at you. “Kurtz is there something you’d like to share about Mr. Huxley’s work?” “Yeah sounds like his idea of a utopia was just the Ghoul’s Friday night.” The teachers not impressed scowling and giving him detention.

“Sorry Y/N guess we have to postpone the history project again.” He laughs under his breath and you roll your eyes. “Well I’ll definitely have to come over Friday, can’t miss out on a real life Brave New World experience, you think I’ll get extra credit if I take pictures?” You wink and snicker, catching the teacher’s eyes in a glare. You try your best not to beam when he give you detention. “Well then Y/N don’t tell me I’m a bad influence on you.” “Not at all, if anything I’m a bad influence on you; making you miss Ghoul meeting and-“ “SHIT!” Kurtz slams his fist onto the table and the teacher looks unimpressed. “Kurtz what have-“

“Fuck off.” He hisses standing and walking out of the room, you watch as the teacher doesn’t look up as you move to follow him. “Kurtz?” “They told me if I missed one I was out.” “Well that doesn’t seem anything like a decent gang.” “What?” “I mean if they’re going to kick you out cause you don’t show for one meeting seems a little extreme, plus they’d have less members if that was an actual rule.” “I know but I can’t-“

“Cant what? They need you more that you need them.” “No I’m; I’m nothing without them.” “So you just came into being with a little leather jacket? An undying sense of loyalty to a gang you met when you started high school? It’s been years with you in them; you really think they’re going to throw you out cause you miss one meeting?” He nods feverishly and shoves his bag into your hands. “Can you meet me in the library? After this meeting.” “Of course.” You turn starting for the library, no point in going to class when there’s only one left.

You’re sitting in your usual spot watching the door. You don’t mean to snoop but when you shift moving Kurtz’s bag next to yours you can see the bright cover of the sketchbook. You assume the meeting has just started so you pull it out carefully opening it. You skim through the pages, mostly half finished sketches, and colour combinations; you laugh at the sketch, clearly done form his point of view, your arm reaching out to close the window, the top of your head just visible. You turn the page watching and the sketches end up more finished but almost an unrecognisable style; the bright colours are what throw you off the most, before it have been almost completely pencils and now it was neon in comparrision, paints and chalk colour faces and clothes outlandishly bright. You note in place of a signature all that’s written is a squashed ‘jangle 2 ½ tubes; twenty minutes.’ You try your best not to think about this being the day of the fight; how the serpents have neon blues and greens dripping from their faces and the knife one of the Ghouls has drips the same.

Kurtz doesn’t say anything and you debating telling him you looked through his sketchbook but decide against it for the moment. He’s brought you back to his house, pulling his books out gives you the excuse you need. “What’s that?” “Sketchbook, mostly empty, ghouls don’t like me doing art, says it distracts from the gang.” You nod but he laughs catching you frowning. “Don’t agree with them?” “If they think you drawing is distracting what on earth do they have to say about me?”

“Well they don’t like me socializing outside of the gang and the thought of me dating outside of it isn’t something they consider.” You swallow leaning closer to him. “If you’re already distracted by art;” You nudge the sketchbook from where it sits between you on the bed scooting into the space made by it. “Why shouldn’t you be distracted by something more enjoyable?”

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script-a-world · 4 years

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Got a question about building maps. There are always roads and streets that change, as well as buildings. How do I easily create maps of different times but easily seen on top of each other without it being confusing or all clogged up. The only way I think even,possible is handdrawing on trace paper so we can see underneath but it's still messy. How about when it's also important where sewer, telephone, electrical lines etc are located on a map? My maps are all muddled up.

Feral: So, for real, as I was reading your ask, I was like “oh, that’s easy: trace!” And then I got to the part where you said you tried trace, but it’s all muddled. And honestly? I’m still like “trace!” I work in the interior design industry, and I go for hand drafting and rendering as much as I possibly can.

I know some of my colleagues are going to have digital resources for you to try out (it’s all about layers!), but I’m going to walk you through how I would do this on trace (within the limits of what I would expect someone who doesn’t do this sort of thing professionally would have) in case that ends up being the best option for you.

Create a legend. Color coordination, thick lines, thin lines, dashed lines, dotted lines, squares, circles, triangles etc, etc. Have a sheet of paper to the side at all times while you’re working on your map to reference and add to as new symbols become needed. Think of the symbols you would normally see on a map - a train track is visually distinct from a street. Which exact symbols you’ll need to use will depend on where your map falls in the realistic to iconic representation spectrum.

Use graph paper for your base layer. Personally, I would use the base layer as the most modern version of the city you want to create, as this will probably be the largest map, and then the maps on trace will work backwards to the oldest version of the city, but do what makes sense in your mind. Orient your graph along the axes that make the most sense to you - most likely this will be cardinal directions with x as North-South and y as East-West. You will tape this down, and then tape the trace down over as needed. Once the graph paper is taped down, do not move it until you’ve finished all the maps! Unless you have a drafting table with a parallel bar or t-square (in which case you probably don’t need this lesson from me), moving the base layer could create differences in orientation of your lines on your tracing paper maps. If you don’t have drafting dots/strips/rolls available, masking tape will do; just give yourself a little more paper than you’ll need to fit the map on, so you can tear the tape off if necessary.

A bold border will be your friend. Outline a border on your graph paper, and every time you lay down a new sheet of trace, trace that border. This will ensure that you are lining up your maps every time.

Use the right drawing implements. If you want to use pencil so that you can erase, (first of all, erasing on trace paper is not a fun time, but second of all) you have to find a pencil that is hard enough to not easily smear (H at the softest) but is soft enough to not tear through the trace and to create a line dark enough to read. 2H is my standard, but most “regular” pencils are HB (“B” means soft and “H” means hard, so an HB is the middle between a hard and a soft), so the yellow pencil or .07 mechanical pencil that you have is 2 steps softer than that and will not be a great option. Colored pencils, which usually require more than an accidental brush of the hand to smudge, also work great if you want to color-code. If you want to use pen, don’t use a gel, which stays wet too long, or anything that feathers and/or bleeds - a technical pen will be best; lower cost Staedler or Sakura Micron work fine. You also must, must, must have a straight edge! Even though you’ll be drawing over a grid, if you want neat lines, you gotta have at least one straight edge. Personally, if I could only have one, I would use my 30/60 triangle, but that might be an unnecessary expense for you, so… pretty much anything that is flat, hard, and straight can be used as a straight edge. A ruler without notch marks right on the edge will work, but personally, if I’m making light enough lines over graph paper, I’m usually fine using a plain piece of paper. I’ve been told even a credit card can be an option, but I would actually stay away from that because of the rounded corners - a sharp right corner will work better for you.

Layers! So, clearly, each era would have it’s own map on trace, but I would also do things like the sewers, electrical lines, etc each on their own separate pieces of trace, possibly as overlays for each era depending on your needs.

Labels! Label your layers! It’s that simple. What the time period is and whether it’s depicting the streets or the sewers or what have you. Use the same format every time (e.g. “1950s - Sewers” or “1560s - Streets”). Put your label outside the bold border you’re drawing on each sheet, and put it in the same place on each sheet - I would do it in the lower right-hand corner; to me, it’s the most obvious place to look while thumbing through pages for a native English speaker/reader.

Scale vs. Proportion. Most maps that you’ll get at AAA or wherever, will be “to scale.” If you want your maps to be to scale, that means you have to measure as you draw, and you have to know exactly the size of each street, building, etc that you will be including on your map. This will take a lot of research and a lot of time being very deliberate. Your other option is to focus on approximate proportion. The largest buildings are the largest on the map, and the narrowest streets are the thinnest on the map, without having to worry about exact size. Which you choose to do will be dependent on how realistic (scale) vs. iconic (proportion) the representation on your map will be.

Remember not to create more work for yourself than you need. Always keep in mind why you are creating these maps. What purpose will they serve? This is going to be directly reflected in how detailed you need to make your maps. Most worldbuilding applications I can think of do not need every street of a city for its entire existence mapped out in as realistic a representation as possible, and whenever we get asks that are about this level of detail on this large a scale, I get concerned that the worldbuilder is never going to be satisfied enough with their world-building to write their story or run their tabletop RPG or whatever it is you’re worldbuilding for - unless of course, this is worldbuilding for the sake of worldbuilding, which… go for it!

Wootzel: Feral has a fantastic breakdown on hand-drafting, but I would like to suggest some digital alternatives in case that ends up being more the route you’d like to go. If you haven’t used a digital art or design program before, they can feel overwhelming or impossible, and some of them have very high price tags. Never fear! There are options that are free and pretty simple, and it’s just a matter of finding one that works for you.

If you’re just starting out, I’d recommend trying a program called Firealpaca. It’s free, has a nice set of tools but is still simple enough to pick up mostly by playing with it, and it has enough of a userbase for there to be easy-to-find tutorials around the internet. I actually don’t use it often as my favorite art program is a paid program, but I have had a lot of fun with it when I messed with it in the past.

So, why is digital a good option for your project? The simple answer: Layers. Just like Feral’s breakdown on making different layers using tracing paper, digital layers will allow you to separate the different elements of your map and easily show/hide them as needed, edit one aspect at a time, and generally move/remove/manipulate them in relation to each other. You can put your electrical lines on a different layer from the sewer lines and turn them on and off at will, color them differently, and generally differentiate them from each other. You can use layer groups/folders to make your maps of different times stay separate from each other. And you can use little visual tricks to make them stand out--for example, using crisp lines on a modern map and using a brush with some jitter on your older map.

Firealpaca also has some nice snap modes built in--basically like having a straightedge on the computer. Want to only draw on a grid for a while? Turn on the grid snapping, and suddenly the only directions you can draw are horizontal or vertical. There are similar, easily accessible modes for parallel lines, vanishing point, radial, etc. Almost all the digital art programs I have used also have a built in function to quickly make a straight line--hold shift while using a standard brush tool and click where you want the line to start and end.

One final note--if you end up putting in a lot of time and effort into digital drawing programs, even if you aren’t freehanding much, having a basic tablet can make things so much easier and quicker. Drawing tablets have gotten very cheap in recent years, and for a purpose like this, you would do just fine with one of the tiny, basic ones.

#pylons #mapmaking #maps #Anonymous

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