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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 4- Your Disco Needs You.

Intro: Paul adjusts to life at home post the shooting.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+) A heap of angst and feelings. He’s a soft, lil bean…

Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 3

Three weeks. He'd been home three weeks and with each hour that passed Paul felt less like himself. He was frustrated, angry, irritated and irritable. Upon his discharge from the hospital, his attending physician explained that the road ahead wasn't going to be easy and so far that had proved correct. He'd spent eight days in ICU, not to mention the few after in the recovery ward, and according to the medical team at his disposal, each day spent there in ICU was a full week of added recovery at home. Eight fucking weeks. He wasn’t even half way through. Physically, bar his vocal chords, there had been little lasting damage. Something he should be grateful for, apparently. The wound in his neck had healed well so far, leaving an angry raised pink scar behind, but other than that, to look at, there was no physical signs he’d been moments from death at all. Emotionally, however, well, he was a wreck. If it weren't the continued nightmares as his mind rehashed the horror inflicted in the line of duty, it was the constant desperation to be himself inside and out, to feel like he was HER Disco. For the first two weeks post the shooting, he'd been reduced to writing things on a notepad for Y/N and others as he couldn't speak more than a word or two and at a faint whisper or angry rasp. Over the last week, it had improved a little but still, holding a prolonged conversation was painful and he often as a result found himself reaching for that fucking notepad as a means to an end when it simply became too damned much to bear.

He hated it.

Not only was socialising his forte, but his and Y/N’s relationship usually operated with a lot of conversation as they would talk over dinner, joke when watching TV, chat or whisper to each other when laying in bed at night. And not being able to indulge in those simple things properly with his fiancée was killing him. And don't even get him going on his thoughts and anguish over the way they'd not been their usual intimate selves. From touches and sweet kisses, to sex and general intimacy, there had been none, not due to anything she'd done, but all down to him, and how he viewed himself, felt about himself. He pulled open the fridge, reaching in for the eggs and bacon before he moved to the stove, coffee brewing in the pot to the side. As he set about making them breakfast, he lost himself momentarily, concentrating on whisking the eggs ready to scramble before he heard the bedroom door click open as Y/N shuffled out into the bathroom. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps hit that squeaky board in the small hallway as she headed down to their kitchen. Soon he felt her arms around his waist, hands hooking over his chest and shoulders. Her lips pressed to the back of his shoulder. "I can take over." Quickly, Paul twisted out of her hold and raspilly said, "I can manage." She stepped back from him, and he was immediately crushed with guilt as he took in the look on her face. The way her eyes were downcast and how hard she swallowed. He watched as she blinked hard, moved her lips to say something and then she simply sighed, her shoulders dropping as she turned and left, back the way she came, down the hall and back into the bathroom. When he heard the slam of the door echo across their small apartment, Diskant threw the wooden spoon across the counter and leaned against its edge, a silent curse across his lips as let out a deep sigh.

For the last three weeks, this was how their days had started and ultimately set the tone for the hours to follow. He didn't know where to begin to try and as for Y/N, well, she couldn't try any harder.

**** The door shut behind you with a little more force than you’d meant, having slammed it by accident in your haste to escape quickly before the tears of frustration and hurt spilt from your eyes. You were trying to rationalise his behaviour, you knew he was frustrated at how his recovery was progressing, more so because physically he looked okay. But he wasn’t. He was weak, sleeping a lot. He struggled to talk for more than a few minutes at a time and the simplest of tasks seemed to leave him drained. But you could cope with that, hell, you expected it. What you hadn’t expected however, was what hurt you the most- the fact he seemed to be shutting you out. Your relationship had always thrived on the fact you had no secrets, there wasn’t a thing the pair of you couldn’t talk about but now, it was like he’d put up a wall to keep you out. And it hurt.

You turned on the shower and whilst you waited for the water to warm, you stripped off your pyjamas and made sure to pile your hair out of the way to avoid it getting wet. Once it was at the right temperature you stepped into the cubicle, closing the glass screen door behind you and tipped your face up to greet the warm spray as the water washed away your silent tears… The day had finally come and he was going home. Things were set and the car was running and waiting. He'd been able to dress in a pair of sweats, his trainers and a button down shirt, sighing as he couldn't just walk out but had to be rolled out. Words were few, and very soft, a stark difference to his typical boisterous laugh and toothy grin. But you were all thankful, thankful he was alive, thankful he was okay and healing. His parents offered to take you both home, yours and Barnes waiting for you to arrive back at the apartment. Your parents had worked diligently at deep cleaning for you, taking one less thing off your list to do, knowing the first few days home would been an adjustment period, learning how to move with one another and go about a new routine from at home therapy to outside appointments, no doubt eventually a steady stream of visitors. You honestly were fine with whatever Paul had wanted. In reality, he hadn't said much or written much on his pad of paper all morning. But you went along with it anyway. The nurse wheeled him out and you walked along his side, the feeling of relief washing over you as you stepped over the threshold of the hospital entrance and watched him breathe in his first breath of fresh air in ten days. You held back tears, thankful for your Wayfarers covering your eyes. But you didn't miss his, the way he was desperately trying to keep himself together around everyone else. He gave a nod in thanks to the nurse and slowly sat down in the back seat of his parents' SUV whilst you moved around to the other side to settle yourself in. Nothing was said, it didn't need to be, but you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Big Jim pulled away from the curb and headed towards home. When you went to move your hand away, he gripped it tightly, looking at you with those deep pools of blue.. You wanted to reach out to him, touch him on the one place you knew comforted him, made him melt, tell him he'd be okay, reassure him, but he was to your right, therefore his sutures and bandages were along the left of his neck and you couldn't touch him there, it was still painful, raw and frail. So you let him grip your hand the whole way home, the top of it reaching his lips a few times, just so, you thought at least, that he knew you were there, reminding him he was going to be okay. That he had you. As the four of you made your way into the apartment, you remembered that Barnes, your parents and by now no doubt Sam were there waiting for you all. Sure as you'd guessed, a thundering cheer and smiles came from the living room and filtered into your kitchen. The one bedroom, small space at capacity with guests. It was not the time for a 'Welcome Home' party. As Paul gathered a moment to himself, he looked to you and signalled he needed to write something down, so you grabbed the nearest note pad and a pen, the items you always had on the coffee table that collected your lists for groceries and to do items. His 'Honey Do' list as he liked to call it. He scribbled hastily and practically shoved the pad back at you. 'Can't do this. Need time.' "Okay," you looked at him after reading, "okay." You ushered over to Big Jim and Dotty, gently telling them that he was asking for some space, and they quickly understood, saying their goodbyes as you made the rounds, hoping neither of you looked like assholes in asking everyone to leave. With deep understanding, everyone left, allowing the two of you time together. You went to the kitchen to get water for you both, sighing as you saw the fridge stocked full and a freezer full of meals. Dotty and your mother, no doubt having done all that. When you returned to the living room, just a dozen steps away, Paul was sitting on the couch, hands on his thighs, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, I should have stepped in and said it was better to have people see you when you were ready. I didn't think...." A deep sigh interrupted you and what was an empty hand was now jotting a note again. He turned the notepad in his lap. 'I just need you.' Your lip quickly quivered and you gently leaned in to kiss his lips softly. "I'm right here." He gave you a small smile as you sat beside him.

“Do you want to shower? Eat? Sleep?" Paul frowned deeply at each of your asks. He shook his hands at you, trying to tell you to slow down. Then, you sat in silence. He slowly stood after a long stretch of nothing between you and headed down the hall to the bathroom, albeit a bit wobbly at first and when you rose to help steady him, he shrugged you off. You gave him his space, but worried about him on his own. Then you heard the click of the door and the shower running… A knock on the bathroom door dragged you from your thoughts and knowing it could only be Paul, you turned the shower off for a moment so he didn’t have to shout. “Yeah?” You cleared your throat and listened carefully. “Breakfast is waiting when you’re done.” His voice was croaky, but you picked up his words easily enough through the thin door. “Okay, give me a moment. Be right out.” You called back, no longer wondering why he didn't open the door anymore or why he locked it when he was inside. You turned the shower back on, quickly lathered up your gel before washing and stepping out, towelling down before you slipped on a lightweight robe and opened the door.

*****

He waited for her at their small kitchenette, their places set, food already plated. He admired her, how she was dressed in her robe but as his eyes moved to hers, he noticed those beautiful orbs that he loved waking up to each and every day were red and puffy, despite her shower. He watched as she moved her food around her plate, eyes cast downward at the yellow scrambled eggs, slightly runny just the way she liked them. He tried to clear his throat but it stung so he reached over the tiny table-top and touched her hand. When her eyes met his, he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” The words died in his throat as his voice gave out and he gave an exasperated gesture mouth, a frustrated noise escaping from his nose. "It's okay," she replied, her own words catching in her throat. His chest heaved with a heavy breath and his hand flexed into a fist, redirecting his frustration to have more control of his feelings, a shake of his head. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

She didn't speak, she just slowly popped a shoulder with a shrug and tilted her head to the right to meet it. He could tell she was grinding her teeth, that flex in her jaw evident. She cleared her throat and shook her head, "I can't eat right now." She scooted away from the table and took her plate with her, setting it in the fridge and escaping to their room. When that door shut, Diskant rubbed his hands over his face. Things weren't going to improve between them if he didn't try to get his words out but it was fucking near impossible. And God damn it he was downright exhausted at writing it all down. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to be able to tell her but he didn't want to waste the ink. He wanted his life back. The dishes were done before they'd sat down to eat, so, wanting to give himself time and continue to give Y/N her space, he slipped into the bathroom for his own shower.

Taking a moment to figure out what exactly he was doing, Paul sighed. Shower, then figure it out with Y/N. They needed to talk, properly, even if it made him hoarse. Three weeks of struggling to just.... live and move on were enough. He brought his eyes to the mirror as his stood with his palms flat against the basin, his scar peeking out the top collar of his white tee.

He'd grown to looking in the mirror more often than when he'd first come home. His reflection made him feel somewhat of a beast, a man no longer what he once was but something of fright. The scar by no means was earth shatteringly grotesque, and Paul wasn't naturally a man of conceitedness, however, it was still a shock to see.

Not for the first him he'd wondered how it looked to Y/N. It was hideous in his mind, and he was afraid she was grossed out because of it too. The bullet had pierced through one of the places on his body where he simply relished her touch. From the friendly and tender tickle on the couch as they watched TV to the desperate way she would cling to it as she lay under him, it was just something they had shared since the start and now he held a million worries. It might hurt, maybe her touch would have lost the ability to drag the reactions it normally did, that he would have lost that special place that she only she knew about and could use to make him melt.

He was scared of his own girl’s touch, and while it was an absolute ridiculous notion, it flat out petrified him. It petrified him for the very fact that he couldn't feel ANYTHING there. Not the water that touched it, the feel of his own fingers ghosting over it or the bite of a pinch he'd given himself just to test the nerves.

He felt nothing.

He stared at his reflection, running a hand over the month long beard that had grown as of late. He wasn't supposed to shave, having been on blood thinners since his surgery, but those ran out a few days ago. Turning his head to the right, and then to the left, he sighed. Maybe he'd feel a bit better if he did…more like himself.

With a sigh he pulled the trimmers from under the sink and plugged them into the outlet. Then he started filling the sink with lukewarm water, preparing a fresh razor for use. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, he took a good look at himself, eyes burning into the mirror as he took in his pale colour, his sad eyes, the dark circles under them, no doubt result of the nightmares waking both he and Y/N in the night, and then that ugly line. He sighed as his mind travelled back to their first night home from the hospital… He hadn’t meant to push everyone away but it was overwhelming. He just wanted her. His second chance at life was handed to him and all he wanted was her, time with her. Everyone and everything else could wait. He was a little unsteady on his feet, a weak wobble really that would surely pass the more he moved but he wasn't his entirely strong self either. He felt weak, looked pale and was sporting a near two week stubble that was itchy, but there was nothing he could do about it. More pressing than the ever increasing facial hair, however, was the fact he was craving a shower. Having suffered the indignity of nothing but sponge baths and body washes in the hospital, he simply wanted nothing more than to stand under the steam of their surprisingly powerful shower, in their little bathroom and clean himself off, wash away the clinical smell of the hospital that seemed to cling to his skin.

He turned the water on first, the sound of it spraying from the shower head a joyful sound. He knew he'd have to go slow, take it easy and be gentle on himself. Paul slipped his sweats down over his narrow hips, the material pooling at his feet and he kicked them away to the corner of the space. Then, with trembling fingers, he started on his button down, swallowing back a nervous knot painfully in his throat.

By the time he was stripped down to his boxer briefs, there was a covering of steam on the mirror and he swiped at it with his hand. Then gently, ever so gently, he began to peel back the medical tape holding the gauze to his neck, knowing he’d have to replace the dressing once he’d showered. Not that it mattered, he’d been sent home with what felt like enough gauze, dressings and surgical tape to patch up a fucking army.

What he saw was not his own skin. Gone was his St. Christopher medallion on his favourite chain, one his parents had gotten him when he graduated from the Police Academy, and near where the chain would lay against his collarbone and neck was the repair hours of surgery and a week and a half in the hospital had caused him. Still, he was alive. When all was said and done, a chain could be replaced and his wound would heal.

With a final glance at his wound he carefully stepped into the hot water, and a soft moan escaped his mouth as he relished the way it felt on his skin, searing the back of his legs, his ass and lower back. He took a half step back and the water moved up to just under his shoulder blades. As the water beat down on him, he grabbed a bottle of his favoured shower gel and lathered a good amount all over himself, before rinsing and repeating the motion several times. Then, with a movement that was more reflex than conscious, he picked up Y/N's gel and turned the cap, taking a long inhale of the scent that comforted him. He felt his throat tighten and he started to panic, but quickly realized he was swallowing down a cry rather than there being a problem with his wound. He placed the gel back and turned his face into the stream of water, blinking fiercely as the tears welled and bled from his screwed up eyes, mingling with the steady droplets that hit his cheeks from the shower.

He leaned into the stream farther, allowing it to wash over his head, literally drowning out the sound of everything around him. His palms rested flat against the tile, a stretch and pull from his muscles that had atrophied during his stay. Awakening muscles and tendons that were mangled and manipulated to heal.

How long he was in there, he had no idea, but eventually, he felt the temperature starting to drop a little, signalling he'd been in there far longer than he'd intended. Reaching out, he turned the shower off and then stepped out, grabbing a towel which he ran over his head, almost snorting when he remembered his hair was no longer as short as it had been, realising that Y/N had never really seen him with hair as such before.

Because yeah, that’s what she was going to be looking at. His hair, not the huge three inch gash on his neck that made him look like some kind of fucking Frankenstein monster.

With a roll of his eyes, Paul wrapped his lower half in a towel and opened the door to the bathroom, stepping across the hall. When he entered the bedroom, he found Y/N sitting in the edge of their bed, a familiar necklace in her hands like a rosary, her knees bouncing up and down. He noted how cautiously she lifted her eyes to look at his, and didn't miss the way they quickly flicked to his wound and back to his. He felt that painful lump in his throat for again. She rose to her feet and took a step toward him.

“The chain, well... they had to cut it.” She said quietly, holding out her hand where the necklace sat. “So I got you a new one.” She held it out to him and he paused, his hand reaching towards the chain “The pendant was fine so...”

He reached out to take it, his fingers softly brushing her palm as he clasped the metal in his hands. He turned the small, silver disk over and gave her a small smile before he placed it on his nightstand.

“Do you want me to put it on?” She asked, moving to pick it up. “I can-"

With a movement that was a little harsher than he’d meant he reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it still a few inches away from the chain. She turned to look at him, a combination of shock and puzzlement on her face as he hastily shook his head.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Paul ran his hand over his face and shook his head at her. “S’okay.” Were the only words he could manage to rasp out. His eyes bored into her as he desperately tried to make her understand he wasn’t angry at her.

"I'll uh... You start getting dressed and I'll grab the bag from the hospital."

“Bag?” He half spoke, half mouthed at her, his brow creasing in puzzlement.

"The one with the bandages."

He shook his head, waving his hands. “I can-“ his voice broke and she smiled.

“Paul, it’s fine, let me...”

He once more shook his head.

“Baby...”

At that his fist slammed on the nightstand and making her jump.

Her breath was shaky and her lip quivered, her eyes instantly watering. He knew for a fact he'd scared Y/N for he'd never reacted like that in any situation with her.

Backing away from him, she held her hands up defensively and shrugged, "Okay, I'll just go get it for you."

As he recalled the memory, his head hung in disgrace, much the same as it had that evening when she’d left the room, tears in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to push her away like he had, but since that first time he’d continued to do so. And the more he did, the harder it was to stop. And she took it, never biting back or losing her patience. She accepted the fact that he showed her less affection, took everything he threw at her and then some, because she loved him. And damned it, he loved her, he loved her so fucking much it truly, physically hurt. And the thought that he was hurting her because of his inability to sort the jumbled mess in his head was killing him.

Taking a deep breath, he set out on the task he'd started. A shave and a shower. The vibration of the trimmers hummed against his cheeks and neck, trimming away the longer hairs, creating a stubble he then fully removed with his cream and razor. Then, he showered, taking his time, losing himself in his thoughts and playing back the last month in his mind. It was no walk in the park and a frustration and anger bubbled just beneath the surface, it was like he'd recognized he wasn't the same. And was fighting a never ending battle with himself to pull out of the darkness that had overcome him so he could let her light shine in. Fuck it, he needed to do it. He needed to rip the proverbial fucking band aid off and own up to his shit. Because losing her, that was absolutely not an option.

But how? Would she be willing? After all he'd put her through. He was still scared, and he knew his own limits were still there. But they had to start connecting or he was going to lose her. He felt it.

Towelling off, he disposed of his laundry in the dirty hamper and wrapped his towel around him. He looked in the mirror and again wiped off the condensation. He nodded at his reflection. Now he looked like Diskant. HER Disco. He smiled a little to himself and left the bathroom, feeling a lot different than when he'd entered.

When she wasn't in their room, he dressed in jeans and a tee, flip flops on his feet and headed down their small hall. He saw her tucked into the couch, a slouched long sleeve over her taught frame, denim shorts on those hips and legs that made his mouth dry. He could see the smoothness of them and his fingers tingle to touch them. Deep red painted toes balanced on the edge of the coffee table as she read the book she'd started recently.

He sat down next to her, garnering her attention. She looked at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. Those eyes that make him weak. Make him purr and melt and feel like he can conquer the world all at once. Those eyes that make him feel like a man above himself.

At the risk of losing his voice entirely, he began with, "I feel cooped up and it's driving me crazy. Can we go somewhere?"

A smile so genuine spread across her lips that it twisted his gut and sped up his heart. "Yeah, okay. Any idea where?"

He shook his head, "I just want to go. I want us to get out of here." He made sure emphasize the us in that reply, even if it didn't sound as so.

"Okay, let's go," she tossed her book on the coffee table and stood, grabbing her bag by the door and slipping into flip flops of her own.

****

You humoured his request, just to go for a drive. And you drove for hours, all over the place. But little did you realize where you'd end up eventually.

It was late in the day and the parking lot was emptying out. You'd pulled into a spot and turned to him, the Ferris wheel and various stands along the pier behind you. His eyes were covered by his own Wayfarers but his smile was soft and sweet.

"I'm kinda hungry, are you hungry?" You said to him, a humorous tone to your voice. Your words echoing ones he'd spoken to you so long ago, words that had become an inside joke between you.

He chuckled lightly, softly and replied with a nod as the two of you exited the car. You waited for him to meet you on your side. The second he joined you, he took your hand in his and together you walked the bike path until the steps up to the pier were accessible.

He stood at the railing, about halfway down, as you ordered two beers, two hot dogs and fries to share. The sun was just at the horizon, painting the sky in watercolour sherbet, and Paul's silhouette stood out against it. He saw you approach and grabbed his dog and beer from you, lightening your load. The two of you shacked up at a table near the games, almost the same table the two of you sat at on your first date.

“You know, I was suckered into a first date here? Guy was a total swindler, stalker too."

He swallowed his bite of food and washed it down with beer before he smiled and rasply said, "you were willing to go with me. I didn't sucker you."

“You totally trapped me.”

"You needed help, I offered," he pointed to himself, then to you and smiled, "willing participant."

"However you spin it so you can sleep at night," you sighed. "I'm just glad I fell for it."

Paul nodded, "me too." He perched his sunglasses on top of his head. "I love you, so much." He took your beer from your hand and set it on the table top, whilst pulling both of your hands into his.

You couldn't hide the obvious hitch in your chest at the outward affection. The lump in your throat hurt to swallow as your eyes welled up. "I know, I love you, too. More than anything." You fought the emotion in your words, the way they were starting to make your voice quiver.

He sighed at your emotion and shook a deep breath. “This isn't easy." He stalled, allowing his voice rest a second in order to keep trying to get his words out. "I'm not easy." He paused again. "I’m sorry.”

"It's okay," you shook your head.

"It's not." His voice was starting to give way again and you saw the frustration on his face.

“Hey...” you squeezed his hand, “I’d rather you did take it out in me than bottle it all up. I don’t like it when you don’t tell me how you’re feeling.” It broke you to watch him struggle, each and every day it broke you. And you were at the end of your rope, frayed and tired of keeping it together. You sighed. “Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Text me for Christ's sake!”

He chortled a bit and shook his head, "it's not the same." He brought your hands to his lips and you closed your eyes at the feeling it gave you.

You shook your head, if he wasn't going to make the first move then you needed to try. "Do you trust me?"

He frowned and nodded. “Always.”

Without words, you leaned forward, scooting yourself onto the edge of his seat bench and leaned the forearm to your left arm against his right shoulder. Your fingers scratching behind his ear. Gently you brought your right hand up his chest, slowly, delicately, over his shoulder and he flinched away from you. "Paul, please," you whispered. You could see the way his body started to shake, his breathing laboured. "It's just me, baby."

The closer your fingers got, the more his hands twitched to pull you away. You didn't know for certain what was going on on the inside, but you had a pretty good idea. On the outside, his eyes shone back at you with fear as he tried to just breathe. Then your fingertips brushed the raised pink skin that just peeked over the edge of his tee…

The pads of her fingers felt like red, hot needles the way his skin was reacting. But that was nothing compared to what was firing in his brain.

He clenched his teeth together, tried to keep his breathing calm and regular as those gentle fingers that could make him purr and sing moved delicately over the raised edges of his scar, her eyes never once leaving his. Quickly, the feeling of red hot needles dissipated and he felt nothing but a relief that washed over him from his scar to his toes. He could just feel her and that was monumental.

A deep, shaky breath rumbled his chest as he painfully swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing it all twitched under her touch. It felt the same. Nothing had changed, that familiar tingle he usually felt at her touch sparked something deep inside. The involuntary little shudder he always emitted when she hit that little sweet spot, shot up and down his spine and he felt his lips curl up on a smile as his girl beamed at him.

“See.” She whispered.

“How...” his voice croaked and the words died as he took a deep breath, giving himself a moment. “How did you know that was...” another pause before he shook his head, gesturing to his mouth.

“Because, Paul Christopher Diskant, I know you inside out.” She delicately touched him still, her nails just at that spot that made him quiver. "This doesn't change anything. Not now, not ever."

He let out a strained sob, pulling her close, his lips harshly on hers.

“Tell me about it, Stud.” She smiled against his lips.

"Let's go home," he managed before his voice cut out again.

“Is that an order or a request?” She teased.

He grinned and popped a shoulder in response.

The drive from Santa Monica to home was the most comfortable you'd been in weeks, and you could tell Paul was too. As you drove, he couldn't stop smiling, like this weight had been lifted and the fog between you cleared. His eyes didn't leave your profile, his fingers entwined between yours, never letting go.

****

His hand never left yours as you walked the short path from the garage to your little one bedroom shack, even single-handed unlocking and opening the door. You couldn't even step through the threshold before his lips were on yours, soft and slow, gentle, his tongue gliding through the opening you gave him. A kiss so deep you were sure the two of you were ethereally floating. You tossed your bag on the couch as you passed it by, toeing off your sandals as Paul gently tugged on your hand, an instruction to follow him.

Down the narrow hall you went, directly to your bedroom tucked off in the right corner at the end of it. Again, his lips are on yours and if you didn't know any better, you'd detected a slight tremble in his touch as his hands came to hold your face close to his. Your hands rested against his chest as he kissed you breathless. There was no rush or desperation behind his kiss, if anything a wanton need crept through the both of you but you weren't going to push him, no. You knew Paul needed to set the pace, for whilst you could read him like a book, this terrain was new and navigating his new emotions and fears needed to be on his time and terms.

You were just happy he was touching you again, allowing you to touch him. You missed him, missed the way the two of you were. This had by far been the longest the two of you had been intimately separated since your beginning.

His hands left your cheeks and gently gripped at the bottom of your top. You stepped back a little, raising your arms so he could pull it straight over your head. You watched his eyes soften as he looked at you, almost like he was seeing you for the first time again. You reached for the hem of his own shirt, but he took a half step back, freezing you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, “if you’re not ready, leave it on or... it can wait, we can wait.”

He swallowed hard and quickly his hand gripped the back of his collar, pulling the tee over his head. You took care to keep your eyes locked on his, knowing exactly what was making him nervous- his scars. As his eyes searched yours, your face broke into a smile and then he was back on you, his hands on your hips, pulling you close as his mouth claimed yours. His hands felt warm on your skin as they travelled up your sides, only letting go to move to your jaw and neck. His thumbs across your cheek, his fingers splayed around your neck and into your hair.

He kissed you with all tongue, his lips massaging against yours as he changed the position of his head, tilting it the opposite way. And for a moment he pulled away, his hands still on you, the burn of his eyes lustfully blown as they bore into yours. Then, he moved in on you again, his nose bumping against yours as his thick, flat tongue filled your mouth fully, yours submitting against it, allowing him to devour you. It was as if he was opening up your soul, tasting feeling and seeing every colour of the rainbow. You felt as if your body was going to explode with the feeling sheer desire and love flooding hours state, but above it all, happiness that he was kissing you like this again.

It left you breathless and wanting more. You actively fought the urge to rip his belt buckle open and shove his jeans down, trying hard to leave him to set the pace. But, as always, he could read you like the pages of a well-worn novel and that maddeningly smug, cheeky school-boy grin crossed his face. It twisted your insides and made your skin tingle.

His fingers wound through your hair as he backed you towards the mattress. As the crook of your knees hit the side of the bed, he kissed you again, his fingers moving to the button of your denim shorts. Your mind was excited, your body fully responding to his touch, his movements. You’d missed this. His fingertips touched your tummy and you shivered, the denim quickly falling away as you fell onto the mattress.

You watched as he undid his button and flies, the zipper echoing in the stillness of your room, bouncing off the exposed brick and vibrating in your ears. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his denims, strong thighs, arms and taught abs flexing as he crawled over you, his hands planting either side of your head. The muscles of his shoulders twitched as he lowered himself over you, his lips claiming yours in a slow dance, his tongue leisurely tangling with yours, a soft sigh escaping him.

You continued to resist the urge to touch him where you have always shown him you're there with him, that part of him that makes him sing and shiver. That spot that only you know of that makes him melt against you, submit to his lust and desires for you. Instead, as his tongue felt every part of yours, his hands caging himself over you, you tilted your hips, your hands grazing the underside of his biceps, curling around the raised skin of his tattoos. At the feel of your pelvis bumping his, he gave a little grunt, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing to yours as he returned the gesture, his own grinding into yours, the hardness of his arousal unmistakable through his boxer briefs as it brushed against the thin cotton and lace of your panties. His words hit your ears, "need you, Sugar, so bad." You practically purred as you heard your nickname clearly and for the first time in weeks, not strangled by pain, or muted by frustration. His voice was his own once again and it caused a sting in your eyes. Your hands moved along his torso, from his ribs down to his hips, the waistband of his boxers bent by your fingertips. All whilst his lips moved over your jaw, behind your ear where you gasped before he moved down your neck, nestling soft kisses against the tops of your breasts. “You got me, Stud. Always.” At that, he crashed his lips to yours in an attempt to hide the sob you could faintly feel against your own lips.

Your hands gently cupped his jaw, holding his face to yours as the kiss grew desperate, his hips rolling into yours again. Suddenly, he moved back, kneeling between your legs as his hands hooked into the waistband of your panties. “Off.” His voice was raspy once more as he issued the instruction, yet the undercurrent of desire was unmistakable. Obliging to his instruction, you raised your hips off the bed and allowed him to pull them down, his body shuffling along the bed as he glided the garment down over your legs. His heavy hands caressed up your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles over your skin. God, did your skin burn in delight at his touch, you had to wonder and think if he felt the same. There was no denying he did, or you wouldn't be here, you'd still be at the pier, figuring out how to navigate his feelings, his fears. His body led over you, your sex and his barely touching, but yet twitching and pulsing with deep desires of need. His hand pulled down the cup of your bra, his mouth taking gentle nips against your breast as his mouth moved to your nipple, where he gently rolled it between his lips before his tongue swirled the sensitive nub. Your back arched in pleasure, one hand twisting in his hair, the other fisting in the sheets besides you. His free hand slipping behind your back to expertly unclasp your bra, allowing it to loosen around your arms. "Paul...." you moaned. His free hand reached for yours that was fisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers apart and taking your palm against his, entwining your fingers. You were more than ready for him. Like he needed you, you just needed him too. It took one rock, one hip thrust and he slid right inside. "Oh fuck," you both let out, his a good rasp and yours a whimper. It felt so good, beyond good, the way he filled you, stretched you. You wasted no time in flicking your hips up towards his as he thrust down. Your insides fluttered as you joined together each time. God, did it feel... so... fucking... good. Again and again he rocked into you, his movements needy but not harsh, as a desperate need filled you both. You lightly nudged him with a knee and together you rolled, him to his back and you over his hips, still with him settled inside you. Tossing your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you rocked against him whilst he reached up and held your bouncing breasts in his hands, a gentle tweak of each nipple. The sensation sent ripples to your middle, warmth pooling at your core and you gave a soft moan of delight before you bent forward, your lips on his. The kiss was sloppy, his hips still rocking up into you as your pelvis rolled against his. You were close, you knew he could feel you twitching around him. Your lips were covering his as you slowly bounced and rocked on top of him, a pressure to your clit that was blissfully crippling.

In a sudden exertion of strength, Paul sat up and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips moving over your collar bone and down your sternum. He was as deep inside you as he could go, bottoming out as the angle changed and he was clearly hitting a new spot that erupted your insides like a volcano. Your body shook as your orgasm boiled at its peak, with each jut of his hips against you. With one hand around you, the other moving hair away from your eyes and keeping it back by his fingers, his nose rubbed against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he brought your lips to his. You were going to come and it was going to be absolutely amazing. Deepening your kiss, your fingers scratched at the back of his neck, just at the nape of his hairline and you started to feel him quiver. There he was, right there, like always. Your lips broke free from his and nipped at his strong jaw before kissing at the joint where it met his ear. You were careful now, despite the throws of your own orgasm starting to crash around you, to weigh your moves with precise care as you gently, delicately kissed down his neck. Your lips hit that pinkish-red raised mark and your world exploded. The blood surged to your ears, deafening you as you came, hard. Your eyes fluttered closed but the noise he made broke through clear as day, and they flew open again. Those beautiful blues were locked into your gaze as his broken whimper of your name blew into a loud groan as he clung to you, his hips stilling, his eyes fluttering shut. His noise died down, catching in his throat, his chest heaving as you felt him twitch inside of you, the after-throws of both your orgasms pulsing together. Tenderly, your hands slid up to cup his face as you kissed him softly, feeling him sag a little, and you gently pushed on his chest. You didn’t want him to release his hold but you knew he was going to be exhausted. He didn’t take much persuasion, his body boneless as he sank onto the soft mattress behind him. You went with him, your head tucking under his chin as the pair of you recovered, the only sound in the room the dying pants as you both eagerly drew breath.

His hand slipped into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you shifted and pressed your lips to his jaw.

“You okay?” You asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard as his other arm ran up and down your spine, fingers gently tracing a path along your still touch sensitive body. His lips pressed to the crown of your head.

When you'd regained the feeling of life back into to your body, you sat up, rolling off of Paul's hips, garnering a look of confusion from him. He loved when you would keep him inside you, and continue to feel the warmth of one another's bodies. You smiled softly at him, sleepily. You saw the look on his face, the look of contentment but of need and seeking comfort. It was a look you'd come to memorize as his 'I'm tired' look. Soft features, heavy eyes. Blissed out from love making or not, Paul was exhausted and you read every hint of it you memorized over the years.

"C'mere," you now rasped, your voice rattled by emotion and dry from moaning.

His lazy smirk crossed his lips and he knew that tone. He knew what was coming next. He rolled to his left and pressed his lips to yours gently before laying his head on your chest. You traced your first two fingers gently up and down his neck, along his shoulder and back up, a repeated pattern you only you had the map to.

A combination of a contented sigh with a little hum left his throat as his weight over you grew heavier, like the comfort of a weighted blanket. You blinked back the tears, because although you'd heard it time and time again, right then, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever made.

**** Part 5

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #Paul Diskant #paul diskant fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #street kings fan fic

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honey-makki · 3 years

Note

Hey Kristen babie! If you fancy it how about the nsfw alphabet for Daichi (cause you know i’m a hoe for him and him only) ily💛

congrats for requesting my first full alphabet request! i word vomited and this is what happened! enjoy baby!!

warnings: impact play, breeding kink, creampie

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

This depends. He loves morning sex and after that he is refreshed, cooks breakfast and loves on you a bit before he goes into the station. If it's the weekend or at night? Honestly, he's probably a little lazy. He will give you what you need, if that's a shwoer or food or comfort, but he really just wants a quick shower and to lay up in bed with you and take a nap. That being said, if y’all have a hard scene/session he ensures you are ok before addressing his own needs.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You thought I’d say thighs, which yes they are are up there but mostly because of how much you love them, but his favorite part of him is his shoulders. He is just so wide and imposing and he loves the way your hands feel so small against his back. I think he loves hips/thighs. I don’t know if that is his breeding kink popping out or what, but he loves to grip the soft flesh any chance he gets. His hand is always resting on your thigh, and if it's bare, it's even better.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He got that thicc cum. It’s barely runny and honestly, he has massive loads. It's hard to swallow it all if he cums in your mouth, but his eyes light up with a lustful glint when he sees you choke it down while his cock is still in your mouth. He loves to watch it ooze out of any of your holes and then push it back in. Whether that means he’s fucking it back into you or just shoving it in with his fingers. Hates using a condom just because he loves watching it come out, but will if you want him to.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to plug you full of his cum. He wants to see you round and plump with his kid. He wants to fuck into you over and over and over again, angling your hips up so none of his seed is lost, and when you’re done, he’s either gonna sheath himself back in you or stuff you full with a pretty little plug. It doesn’t matter if you are on the pill or not, because at least for a minute, he can imagine that you aren’t, imagine how much he wants to mark you as his in the strongest way he can.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he got laid when he was younger, and then like, didn’t for a long time. He’s probably had one or two long term relationships where they experimented to some degree but I don’t think he has a tone of past sexual partners. He’s very much a giver though, so he is experienced in figuring out exactly what his partners love and how to make them tick.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Loves fucking you while you’re both on your side. He just gets to hold onto your thigh thrown over his hip and it’s perfect for lazy slow sex. When you are feeling a little needier he loves missionary, because he wants to see you cry just a few tears from being fucked so good. He does love the opportunity to watch your cunt suck him in with every thrust that isn’t awarded in the other.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Tbh i don’t think this man laughs during sex unless something goes wrong or makes a really funny noise. It’s not that he’s serious and more that he is focused. He’s determined to make both of you feel good and be satisfied. He’s taking in every reaction of yours constantly so he knows what he needs to give you. Faster? Harder? Deeper? Praise? He’s gonna figure it out. Sometimes he gets lost in his own head trying to please you that he forgets himself and pulls himself out of the scene but he’s trying to get better at that

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think he trims once a week or so. He’s always had good hygiene, but now that someone else has to deal with it, he would be super embarrassed if it was an unpleasant experience. If you have a preference he will probably default to that and include it in his routine. He has a thick lil happy trail that he also trims but not as short as the rest.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, very focused on making sure you are happy and feeling good. If you are cognizant and coherent at the end, then he didn’t do a good enough job. Likes to kiss you wherever he can reach. Isn’t the most vocal but will remind you how good you are doing every once in a while and how happy he is that you are with him. Is the type of dude to light candles or do something soft and sweet as foreplay just because he loves you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Used to jack off before every game. It got out any residual stress or anxiety and cleared his head. If he doesn’t fuck you in the morning he is for sure jacking off in the shower. He doesn’t have to, but it leaves him in a better mood and more focused which is pretty important for his job. I think he’s louder during this than sex because it’s the only time he’s focused solely on him and his pleasure and he can’t help it. Also, imma say it, I think he loves to feel himself up and play with his nipples or ass while he jacks off.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink- I’m sorry he gives off such daddy dom energy he has to have a breeding kink. I don’t think he would be as forward about it as others but if you bring it up or beg him to cum inside something in him snaps

Mutual/Guided Masturbation- I think he finds it so lewd to watch you play with your cunt or be directed on how to finger yourself. There’s something that just feels so taboo and enticing. He also probably likes it when you are both masturbating together and you’re instructing him. It's one of the only times he lets you give him commands, but only because of the way you cream and fall apart on your fingers watching him get lost in the pleasure

Impact play- He isn’t into brats but he does love to give you a good slap on the ass or thigh. Especially when you get distracted or don’t answer his question. If he’s fucked you a little too hard and you feel a little dumb, he might lightly slap your cheek a bit teasing you about how glossy your eyes are and how messy you look drooling.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He has a reputation to uphold. He almost exclusively does it at home. He wants you to be comfortable, and he wants to make sure he can give you the aftercare you deserve. He does love it when you give him head in his car and secretly dreams about getting road head but never would bring it up.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He wants to hear you moan (or scream) out his name. The way his ego is boosted when you can’t say anything but his name is unmatched. Bur at the base of it he just loves you and knowing he can make you feel that good has his heart beating a little fast.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

NOT into threesomes. He doesn’t want to share you, call him possessive but you are his and that’s that. He’s a little traditional. I think if you really wanted to you could convince him to let someone watch, but it would be a hard argument and it would need to be someone he both trusts and wouldn’t make it awkward after.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He is passable. But the longer you are with him the better he gets at teasing you just the way you want. He could stay down there for hours because you sound so pretty and taste delicious, but you would rather get fucked, and who is he to say no? He loves receiving as much as giving, If you let him fuck your face he will fall even harder for you but also is super turned on by you working so hard bobbing up and down to give him a mindblowing orgasm, desperate just to bring him pleasure.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s fairly medium. His stroke game is pretty consistent for each session. He prefers deep and slower strokes but has no problems fucking you hard into the mattress if that’s what either of you needs. I don’t think he has a thing for marking you up so he’s a little less rough than you would expect.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No. You deserve more than a quick fuck. If you beg he’ll take you around the corner and finger you roughly until you cum or if he has the opportunity to fall to his knees and slip under your skirt. But he won’t fuck you. He will find a reason to leave an event early or show up later before a full-blown quickie. `

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is not into public sex, but he is absolutely down for experimenting in the bedroom, but only if you bring it up. He wants to make you feel good and if you want to be choked, or manhandled, or edged he will comply. Will only bring up things he wants to try like breeding kinks or anal play if you directly ask him.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can do a solid two rounds but has good control over not letting himself cum until you are satisfied or begging for it. Has a super long refractory period but will eat you out if you want more He also loves to lightly tease you until he can go again with light lingering touches or a gruff voice in your ear that leaves you squeezing your thighs together.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He didn’t own toys until he got together with you. He has a few different vibrators he likes to use, especially when you are being a brat. Partial to the one with a remote and loves leaving you full under his control and unaware of when he’s gonna change it up

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease often. Mostly when he wants to build up your neediness between sessions. You are thankful he doesn’t do it often because he is way too good at it and would be a problem if he did it frequently. He knows exactly how to press into your back, or play with a strand of your hair that leaves you needing more

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Ok so he isn’t very vocal but he can’t help the grunts and heavy breathes that fall from his lips. When you squeeze around him sometimes he laughs a little or gives a tidbit of praise. He knows that it will make you squeeze again if he does and shit, it does feel good, and you deserve every bit of praise he gives.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The most public sex you’ve ever had was a day he was practicing in the college gym and when his teammate left you watched him clean up. But god the sweat rolling down his bare back was about to drive you wild. The energy he had spent practicing didn’t hold a candle to his need to bend you over the bench and pull your skirt up. Both of you were happy he took the initiative and pulled you into the shower with him. You didn’t get caught per se, but you do think his teammate heard you screaming out his name when he came back for something because the next time you saw him he couldn’t make eye contact.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Captain of the coke can cock club. That shit is THICK. It’s not super long, just under 6 inches, but that’s honestly a blessing because you can barely take him as is. Your lips stretch an obscene amount, hurting almost instantly when you take him in your mouth and you can tell that he loves watching you struggle. He is a veiny mf tho and you can feel every single one because of how full you always are. Also, sorry he has big breeder balls that are so heavy when he’s close. If he’s fucking you from behind it almost hurts when they slap into your clit.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I think his sex drive is moderately high but he’s just as satisfied to jerk off in the shower. It’s less about the sex and more about the levelheadedness he’s left with after. Don’t get me wrong, he will take the opportunity to bury his face or cock between your legs, but if that doesn’t happen too often that’s ok with him

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Daichi makes me think of a bear. After taking care of his responsibilities (you) he’s gonna hibernate. Clinging onto you while he takes a FAT nap. If it’s the morning he’s left fully recharged but literally any other time of day, even lunchtime, he’s gonna be super sleepy after.

#daichi #daichi smut #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #daichi x you #daichi x y/n #daichi x reader #requested.tea #moots.tea.ceo of daichi #tea.for.ceo of daichi #asks.tea #black.tea #creampie.espresso #mutual masturbation.espresso #impact play.espresso #daichi.coffee #requested.tea.nsfw alphabet

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mikkock · 4 years

Note

Uhm??????? Unacceptable?? Please tell me more about your OCs in that last art? I demand it? I want a full report on my desk before morning? Cite your sources please?

Oh no,, you’re asking,,, about my own faves,,, sorry to everyone, but I guess im never going to shut up ever now. (i already don’t shut up ever, what have u done, im now going to speak so much that society will collapse AT LEAST)

But for real. I enjoy pretending I don’t have faves, I love all my kids the same, buT WE ALL KNO THAT’S A LIE, those two my fave bitches (they snatched that title from the last two faves, rip to them, and they also snatched, n I must really make that clear, the title of “the bitches with the most AUs from the previous previous faves. Their power.)

SO. Get ready for a ride, table of content: them, their respective character, their story, and the pLETHORA OF ALTERNATE STORIES I GAVE THEM because i must yell about all the versions of my kids i have (non-exhaustive cause its that serious bro, but ill take extra time for the universe depicted in that art just for u bby). (tbh if clamp is allowed to sprinkle their fave gays in all their universes so am i, except they aint secondary characters there, every story is just theirs. love that concept.)(itll be so long you’re getting a whole novel even if i have to post it in two posts)

So~ Em twos. Dari n Wei-wei as I call em, or Dumbass n Egg if you wanna get friendly.

They’re my proudest instance of “oops i made a squad of characters, and two of them just accidentally were so perfectly compatible and complementary oh no I guess they’re in love now.” And then they became my favourite. Cause I guess their potential was too much (jk its bc they hot)

cuties.

I spent ten minutes wondering which to introduce first cause dang son, I want to talk bout them both so much shefjgfdg

First, as I technically designed him first (like ten minutes before the other), my man weiwei. if u ever saw my art its impossible that you havent seen him at least once. cause i’m legit always drawing him. cause im in love bro.

Demonstration : here are my computer scribbled weiweis of 2020 so far (with a few daris there n there they’re a package deal), that i could find, and they do not include all the paper sketches that i’m too lazy to take pics of. (i just been drawing him with so much hair these days that’s illegal, his brand is baldness)

But anyway, he’s CHEN Chia-Wei, he’s 21, he’s Taiwanese n I love him. Two very important facets of his character when you meet him: he doesn’t talk, and is absolutely, in every single dimension, built to make you fall head over heels for him.

He’s (in the “canon” storyline if i may call it that since it’s def not my most developed one but oh well) an art student, mostly paints but is also great at photography and videography (his vibe is busy hectic pieces with strong bold colours, lots of harsh edges, and very people focused).

Aside from that, he’s also super into fashion, and because he’s part of the rich boy squad (the “im broke so im giving half my characters wealth in compensation) he Can and Does exhibit some quite funky fits when he feels like it. (maybe a reason I draw him a lot, since my fave thing is pretty boys in weird ass clothes)(and then i also draw him in just casual shit cuz tittiful men in plain white tees you know. there’s just something about it.)

Small compilation of outfits. ft me and my band handwriting roasting outfits that id also kill to own but ok u know.

He digs music. (i make playlists for my OCs and i gotta say, his is the best one, i spent so many hours researching it, “arranging” it etc n its still a work in progress but dude. she got many moods my fave part is when it suddenly turns into so many cheesy ballads also she’s enormous cause im as wordy in playlists as I am in writing.) listens to a lot, n also he can play piano n guitar. cause you know. heartthrobs got to win your heart with a song (and if he’s alone he can even mumble some songs, who knows maybe even sing em softly, definitly a sight to stumble on accidentally). Big main artists that have his vibes are Hello Nico, No Party for Cao Dong, n Circa Waves’s “what’s it like over there” album.

He does a lot of sports. He ain’t fit through magic, rip to him. He’s got a serious routine, and it’s a time he likes to use alone, cause nothing like running at the break of dawn, alone with your thoughts, which you can just easily forget through the exhaustion of a workout session afterwards.

he also eats. A lot. Food is just good, bro. (the canon story is def happening some place europe aka his biggest struggle is how expensive food is here. outrageous.)

He secretly loves super cheesy movies. the dramatic romcoms??? the cute shows that are just so cute and worriless?? anything involving soulmates??? yeh dude. he watches it, he reads it, he listens to it, and he may cry about it, but no one will know. That’s the one true guilty pleasure. (and he definitly has a collection of romance dvds, books n manhuas in his old room back at the family home. where no one can see it. perks of studying abroad. no one can see ur hoarding of material that clashes your image. “yes i watch edgy experimental things haha yes i love those smart people movies of course wow the philosophy…” and then immediatly goes to watch the trashiest predictable but oh so sweet dramas all night)

While he doesn’t speak (as in with the mouth) he can communicate in a bunch of language, due to having moved around quite a bit. On top of his native mandarin and hokkien, he’s fluent in English, so he can use those to write, and is also fluent in TSL, and pretty good in HKSL (and from that, other close-in-syntax sign languages). So he doesn’t have trouble getting around, but then he is also overall quiet in public (with close friends and over text though, that’s another story, that’s where he gets chattier, and also where you may get more of his true personality). Also, he can speak with his sister. That’s pretty cool bro.

I was going to say he’s a very “hides his true colours under a shell” type of character but you know, for an egg character, that’s pretty ironic. We love poetic cinema.

He presents himself as a very laid back, chill detached dude, going with the flow and all that great stuff, and masterfully mixes just the right doses of mysterious, flirty and calm to just go around vibing. But ain’t that jUST THE MILLENIAL’S ILLNESS, those dANG KIDS, going around, gettin relationships but never intimacy 👏😢 (there’s more to it dont leave)

First of all, before you see the Drama, the Turmoil, the first thing you notice when you really do befriend him is that he’s c h i l d i s h, he gets sulky when things dont go following the plan, he gets whiny n jealous for not getting attention , he gets competitive over stupid challenges, and way too playful if you start teasing, and when he gets flustered too…you think you get cool stoic dude but actually you get a dude who’s reacting to things with way too much intensity, and boi i thought u were gon be mature what’s that why have you been pouting for three days over losing a bet come on- That’s mostly coming up when he interacts with his sister, but the closest you are to him to more of it you get to see.

He’s also an affectionate dude actually. Like physically. As in you’ll get spontaneous hugs. He’s come nap on your shoulder. That’s a perk of befriending him if you ask me.

Also he tries to look so cool, so tough haha. He’s actually a lil sensitiv boi. he gets fluffy, he gets flustered, he heart eyes. you turn around and he’s gazing at ya as if you were the whole universe. he gets a mini crisis for holding hands with his crush. ya know. he’s secretly a softie.

nerd.

Then in the “what he doesn’t show” (my fave part), where you stock all the anxieties, all the trauma… Obviously there’s a lot of anxiety here (selective muteness being a symptom of it, he hides the other ones very well) mostly fear of inadequacy, of abandonement and of loneliness. mmmmmmmaybe that’s why he was v reticent to continue pursuing that one guy he was into when he realised he was just a tad too into him oh no is that some,, like?? some lovey-love?? cant have that im afraid of gettin heartbroken bro. Aint that sad for a someone who’s one true goal is just findin someone to love and to be with forever, the struggles of yearnin for a soulmate when there’s nothing you fear more than getting attached to a person and letting them see you and your flaws.., delicious.

Now tho (because its so alone speaking about a character on their own and i just wanna get to the part where i can speak bout em together and how they bring out bits of each others ya kno, the good kush….), Dari…

He’s pretty, i must say, and got the funniest hair to draw, and comes from the most opposite background to weiwei’s.

Darian Andriev PARVANOV, also 21, comes from the remote Bulgarian countryside, but i still love him (this makes it sound as if i wouldnt normally love someone from the bulgarian countryside. its not what i meant. by default ud remind me of my son so you’d start being liked if u came from the bulgarian countryside) Now for the first instance of “wow, the complementarity”. The first thing i thought making Dari was that he looked too cool, and that he obviously was a dumbass, and mostly that he was physically unable to shut up. (o fuck he’s me)

best picture i could find of him. He’s got the dilemma of “wow he looked so pretty n cool until he opened his mouth”

He’s ALSO an art student (cause they were initially created for the purpose of filling the gap of “i have ocs in every field except the one i sorta know that’s so stupid”), painting major (def vibes differently than weiwei though, he’s doing those soft pretty landscapes n flowers, everything real pretty and peaceful, we got some impressionism nerd in here folks).

He was/is a real country boy, farm family, he helped tend the fields, he worked in plantations for pocket money, he knows how to take care of cattle and chicken and goats and all the cool babies you can take care of, he can tell whether the soil is good or not, he can drive a tractor, and doesnt fear dirt.

but then also he’s kind of a neat freak, he hates getting paint on himself, so the duality of man, dirt ok but paint? disgostin. his spaces are real neat and spotless, he likes cleaning (its relaxing) and does it nearly too often.

his dumbassery comes from lack of common sense and impulsiveness, aside from that he’s actually what you’d call “mad smart”, dude had em good grades, he can memorise pages upon pages of the most trivial information, he has an accumulation of knowledge beyond limits, and is good at problem solving. so he can recite all the words of the F letter of the dictionnary, but would also put a curling iron in his mouth to see if it would curl his tongue. (side note, he does have a problem with heat n fire, most his “oopsie how i wound up hurting myself on acccident” story involve burning -that stove was just too tempting…)

while he doesnt feel very attached to his home country, he does feel strongly for his family. he’d do anything for his mum (and actually does everything to make her proud already, that’s his one main goal), and he’s ready to sacrifice a lot for her (as in, spend years working non-stop a really uncomfortable job so his mother wouldnt have to pay a cent of his expenses even though she said she could by doing some sacrifices herself,and then being ready to come back as soon as needed if anything happened, and potentially drop his career and dream n go back to the farm life to provide for mama)(also he still does hold onto some parts of his home country’s traditions, and does sometimes feel homesick but more in a ‘i left the most beautiful landscapes n the city feels cramped and claustrophobic and i dont know people and i dont feel in the right place cuz im a forreigner with a thicc accent who doesnt master the language of this place and straight up have different body language communicators due to cultural difference oh lord i wanna be home where a nod means no and a head shake is yes i keep misunderstanding everything”)

if you want background noise he’s the perfect pal to call over, he’s just so chatty, he got hours and hours of non stop speech ready for you. you can shut him up once you’re done listening with the offering of food. works everytime.

he’s definitly not shy. neither in terms of talking to people, nor when it comes to making decisions. he’s quite bold, and rarely hesitates to go towards something he wants. he’s direct in his approach to most everything.

he likes partying. mostly the socialising part, talkin to people is just fun ya feel. and being in the crowd, doing whatever, pressure free? ya can dance n enjoy yourself, and people wont notice? yeah that’s nice. but doesnt do it super often cause broke bitches aint got the party time n budget.

he likes arm. (just an excuse for me to drop this thing here cuz i like it)

While he’s an overall bubbly looking character, with a cheery loud personnality, he does carry some youth trauma that has him more reticent to engage in happiness, he comes from what you could call “not the wokest background” and he may have fallen victim of it : he’s kind of a flashy noticeable character, both physically and in his personnality, and doesnt exactly matches the expectations of dudes in the area he comes from (delicate, emotional and sweet guy? that doesnt exist bro). He went through it, and it has definitly had some impact on his confidence in many aspects. But he’s 100% the type of guy to put on the fake happy front because if feeling bad is sad, making the people you care about sad for you too is Unacceptable Right??? relying on friends?? what???

But then what are we supposed to be doing with such charming characters huh,,,

Make them fall in love obviously.

Their story obviously has to do with falling in love and workin a relationship cause if I dont write romance i literally die, but I make the center pivot of all of it communication, and barriers in communications. Most obvious being them coming from wildly different cultures, having different native languages, and also the ways you adapt to muteness (what i love most bout that part is even then they fucked up given the easiest quickest small body language things to communicate are head nods n then i managed to make one come from the one country that reverses those like iconic how do they even understand each other -through a lot of work and love bro) but also on more “introspective” points, how to say things that you are even afraid to think about, how to open up and share your burdens and trauma with someone, how to say words you’ve been convinced you weren’t allowed to, the inner turmoil of communication in short. And then also communication through art, and through alternative unusual ways. If i were snobbish i could call it something like “a thinkpieces on how humans overcome obstacles in communication, and adapt, all for the sake of pursuing love” but fact is its mostly boys being in love n learning how to speak, figuratively and also quite literally. And also its me having fun with making characters evolve from each other, be able to influence each other for the better, helping each other be more comfortable with themselves and express the true things of their personnality, and discover new aspects. I just wanna write intense and soulful love bro.

So in less concept and more facts, weiwei meets dari, dari being his puppy self just immediatly strikes a conversation and weiwei gets interested cause “oho nice pretty boy? very good. i want some of that”. they get closer because you cant fight off the Power of friendship (and also the power of “what your friend is bestie with my friend?? guess we hanging out”) and then friendship and interest turns into pining, held back by respective dread of what romance with the other would mean (as in “romance?? cant have that we cant feel” and “with him?? cant do that, convince yourself he’s just a friend immediatly what would the family think”) but eventually they do have to just crash into one another cause that’s just the gravitational pull bro, its physics bro. and from then on its all unlearning destructive behaviours, bettering oneself with the help of the other, and getting over trauma to finally live ur best life. and gettin fckin married bro they’re both cheeseballs theyll wanna wed

BUT MAKING EM FALL IN LOVE ONCE ISNT ENOUGH time to make 3894853 alternate universes about em.

Lets speak bout my fave of those for a hot second.

First of all, the one of the art that brought this ask, guess i could call it “Pretty Tribes” AU, bunch of tribes live and do their things, having nature and energy powers. Dari n Weiwei’s tribes are bros, the latter’s powers needing them to move around to get energy from different places, enabling them different abilities. So basically they get to hang at the other’s place while the regenerate energy from there, and in exchange they help them out with various tasks (dari’s tribe is a rly farmer oriented one, with plant magic, while weiwei’s got more poyvalent powers, and have very good healers notably, so it comes in handy). The two boys were born a few months apart in their respective tribes, so naturally, anything the two clans meet, they’re put together to play and all, and from that they became besties, and each time they meet, after the gaps of time separating the two groups, they feel more and more of a little something else~ story is themed round growing up, friendship between clans, their traditions and cultures, and pretty boys in pretty clothes in pretty landscapes interacting with nature.

The superpower AU, i fuckin love it bro. Its an old one, made for other characters, but i just love it so much that i had to inject my faves in it. Its got a grimy ugly setting, bad government, propaganda, and fights between super-people (heavily mediatised for entertainment and reinforcing the idea that “look at these evil villains thank god us the good government protects you from them”), with a side of bad ethics in science. In all that, those two have the role of “those two young enemy warrior and villain, they were so powerful and fought so hard”, public figures, legendary and admired by both sides, everyone followed their fights, til one day they presumably died in one of their showdowns. (haha sike they actually found themselves talking for 5 seconds and realised they lived in a society, n built a plan to run away). The main characters get to find they’re alive because one of em had history with super-warrior-golden-boy and go to seek their help to overthrow the Big Bads. (stealing them from their nice gay cottage hermit life smh so rude)

Mermaids. I like those. Sailor weiwei sees merman dari, they both save each other in different occasions, they grow fascinated with each other, they’re at sea, water romance. Amazing. AU made half cuz i just like water n fish. and shirtless sailors.

(i couldnt find art of it in five minutes so have a link to that lil animatic piece i made of it once)

Indie band AU, where i was listening to songs that vibe so well with those two in general n then my brain was like “what if they’re the ones playing”. They’re (along with the rest of the art squad) a nice little alternative rock band, doing their thing, then one of their songs blows up, and they get quite the attention, to the dismay of dari who wrote that song in a moment of “oh no im so in love with my bandmate but i cant tell him what if i ruin everything we have going on ill just have to love from afar and deal with that” and now has way too many people interested in who he wrote it about and theorising from his every move when performing it (a mix of music, secret crushes and social media) (ft a picture of neither of them but its the least ugly art i found of this AU cuz its old and instruments are the bane of my existence)(also kelana is so pretty i gotta flaunt her around)

in kind of the same vibe, as in we’re in a music world overexposed to social media, i also integrated em to an AU i did for fun, “boyband AU” as its called aka idol based band system cuz you kno, i got a hobby, lets apply it. Band boy Dari and bodyguard Weiwei got a thing going on, but can’t really act on it in any way, because they’d just destroy the whole band if it ever came public. Featuring annoying bandmates, catchy pop songs and people making fanaccounts of that one hot Mr.Bodyguard cause dang he hot.

(all the art of this one so ugly im sorry)

SPY AU, one of my fave brand. They spies, they get assigned on the same mission, they work real nice with each other. spies hot. fights. strategy. i just like the concept. Gays taking down the worst traffics imaginable??? I love that song.(i actually have so much on this cause s p i e s are fuckin great)

Fashion. U kNOW i have an AU for fashion. Supermodel and his private stylist, trying to maintain the line of professionalism. And failing to do so. Lets make out in unpractical designer clothes.

Have an highschool AU for a bunch of characters, injected them as “spinoff”, start chatting online being art buddies, fall in love without meeting (ft. all the iconics of internet friendship like knowing tiny details of their personnalities but not the fact that they have a sister or “waIT ur a GUY i thought u were a girl wow wild good news for my gay ass”)

n those are my faves as far as i remember, i got a fuckton of small other ones that arent fleshed out enough, or some that are more of a guilty pleasure universe, and some that are more like “projects that i can expend on as soon as i run out of daydream material” (like u kno those hospital drama shows with super innacurate medicine n shit like idk scrubs or whatever, yeh i want some of that but im keeping it for later)

#thats way less talk than i thought id do #prolly bc i wrote half of it when it was between midnight and one AM #wait no it was 2 am #but ye #sry if shit messy af #those two are my faves tho n talkin bout em on the spot is hard cuz my brain is screaming about everything bout em at once #if u wanna get more info on em do ask i love them so much n i feel i didnt do em justice here cuz speaking is a fraud words dont exist #im glad they caught ur interest tho #nothin more gratifyin than not being the only bitch who likes his own children

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gg-astrology · 5 years

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Hi lovely! If you were able, i was wondering abt your thoughts on a Taurus sun (7th) + Libra moon (11th) 💕 thank youu✨

Hey there! 💕💕 Ah I’ll do that now! 💕 Thanks for asking!! 💕💕

[Below Cut: Taurus Sun - Libra Moon 🍑]

Common sense, practicality-- fair minded person, respectful to others (well-mannered) a lil bit critical/judgemental but you’re wise beyond belief

A Good Eye for Art too-- combines analytical mind, good senses and social/personal responsibility together (thus-- people who slack off in their social/personal responsibility makes you clench your teeth a little)

You have an acute intuition, one that can spot others bad intentions a mile away. Have your feet planted firmly on the ground, but at the same time, that Libra air makes you open to creative expression/expansion of the mind

You aren’t prone to self-delusion, which is a great trait to have since you can often ‘bring yourself/others down’ from a path of being ‘too self-deluded’ sometimes

You’re a rather grounded person, but also someone who’s keenly an Intellectual and likes to study/focus on your scope of interest. You’re a bit of a perfectionist, but with that comes patience, tenacity and a lot of hard-work you’re willing to put into everything you set your minds to

Be it a relationship, your reputation, your work-ethic. You’re top notch in all of these because you don’t let yourself slack when it matters to other people.

That’s the thing right? It’s not just for you, underneath it all -- you’re somewhat motivated by setting yourself as an example for others, a certain standard others have to get on board with or surpass. Because you want the best for your community as well as the field you’re in (social conscious-- Venus/Venus).

Your tastes are simple but very specific, there’s a lot of thoughtfulness and careful consideration put into it. Sometimes you spend hours going over minute details-- trying to find what’s intuitively ‘right’ for you.

People can say you’re sophisticated, say you’re classy-- you know it doesn’t bother you because you take it gracious. Always gracious and thankful for the good things that comes you way

In a way you can be slightly detached emotionally, high key sus of people who wants emotional intimacy from you. You’re a lil too much of an intellectual, too grounded for that ish sometimes (doesn’t like people approaching you too aggressively, demanding something from you without asking for your consent, doing things for you that you weren’t expecting/were going to do yourself -- you don’t like losing control/being imposed upon)

Although you’re a sensual person, can often indulge in material comfort (aka retail therapy) these are usually for you and your own emotional gratification. You choose to buy other people things because you thought of them, want them to have good stuff too (but then, they’re part of ‘your people’ and thus your protection/liege as well-- part of your jurisdiction)

Although you’re even-tempered and can hold yourself well (your biggest pet peeve is mostly just people being indecent/unfair to others) --- you’re still somewhat a little uneasy inside.

Libra Moon needs a mirror, and often times even though the Taurus makes you self-sufficient enough. Emotional gratification also seems to come from people around you responding well to you, affirmations that you are indeed doing well, good, needed and is being decent to others.

You can’t take any other criticism, your own self-esteem/value decreases if other people views you a certain way. Although your Taurus might get huffy and indignant (stubbornly obtuse) your Libra emotionality is sensitive, and may start doubting itself

Other people’s view of you matters a lot, it’s half the time why you socialize with people. You care a lot about how you are socially, if you’re productive/efficient in your social group, if you’re providing something for the collective instead of yourself.

In some ways--- your emotionality/sense is tied to those around you as well. Traditionalism holds strong in both Taurus/Libra placements, so most of the time you may hold on/cling on to belief/mannerism you’ve had years ago.

In order to impress others as well (it’s what you’ve learnt, one of the unquestionable things you’ve picked up. It’s ingrained into your common sense ‘just be polite/well-mannered and you won’t lose anything because of it’ --- You value context/tact too much, even if it serves to discredit your own personal opinion that could be crucial/useful sometimes)

If tension/stress builds up (and you’re not prepared for it) Taurus is prone to taking a sudden vacation ( ‘I need me time’ ) and Libra is prone to skrrting away immediately when it rears it’s head (willful ignorance/innocent ‘oh I didn’t even know!’) --- you can often spend more time relaxing or ‘de-stressing’ than you do working through a problem.

Having a group of people around you (lovers/friends) who will motivate you to face/confront these problems will help. Keeping people around you who are busy bodies, productive and go after their own ambition is good. Because you need to keep yourself motivated too.

If social belonging is important to you (or rather influential to you) then use it to your advantage. Adapt to it, have a group that you care for/belong in and motivate each other to succeed/achieve your own success.

You like celebrating with others who are often ‘equals’ to you--- so make sure to use this as your motivational point

Venus/Venus can often lead to self-indulgence, so much so that you’re often ‘cutting off’ paths of challenges or self-motivation in order to pursue your own pleasure/easy-way instead of working hard for something sometimes.

Make sure you don’t discredit the pure euphoric satisfaction of hard-earned reward/results. Your peace-loving nature can ultimately be your downfall as well. It will only make you become more restless, anxious and uneasy. Because you know damn well you work best when you’re productive/busy.

If you become too complacent in your routine/comfort --- you’ll lack motivation and become indecisive. Make sure you give yourself a sense of direction, structure. Get a Virgo or Sagittarius to help you.

You’ll need to prioritize some tough stuff first, so that you can get the balls rolling. Once you do-- you can learn how to adjust and be fairer to yourself-- because you can sometimes be too harsh of a perfectionist even to your own effort (and break down crying when things aren’t the way you want it to be ‘I know I could do better’ )

I hope this is helpful!! 💕💕💕💕 Good luck!! 💕💕

#taurus sun #virgo moon #taurus #virgo #taurus-virgo #anon #asks

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rockwell-rocky-blog · 7 years

Text

Lucas ‘Rocky’ Rockwell | 25 | The Calamity

Hi what is up my doodz??? My name is Hailey, I’m 21, and this smol dog is my Rocky. Now sit back and let me tell you a lil sum sum about my boi

Basics.

I feel like Rocky is going to be a really easy person to get along with. He’s not going to be like super nice and cheery or something, but definitely not the kind of guy to just dislike people from the start. He needs a good reason to be a dick to you, and he will if given the need.

That’s why I call Rocky an asshole, because once he decides he doesn’t like you, it’s just like that for life. He doesn’t just dislike people, he hates with every fiber of his being. He’ll throw a punch without a second thought or rip you to shreds with just a few words.

I chose ‘the calamity’ because wherever Rocky goes, trouble follows. He doesn’t look for trouble, it just finds him. He has a history of drug abuse (which you’ll see below) and it ultimately destroyed his family. I see him as a person who frequently fucks up and has to figure out how to fix it.

He’s in love with Molly Mattinson, the mother of his three boys who have yet to be named at this very moment. He’s probably still going to flirt around and has been around since their break up a few years ago, but I don’t think there’s ever going to be anyone else for him in the same way he loves her.

That’s about it??? idk what else to say about his personality because I haven’t figured it out yet but yeah HMU IF YOU WANNA LOVE ON THIS BABE???

Childhood.

TRIGGER WARNING: PHYSICAL, SEXUAL, AND VERBAL ABUSE MENTIONED

His full name is Lucas James Rockwell III., but he exclusively goes by Rocky. It derives from his last name, and he chose to ditch his first name when he was adopted at fourteen. His father wanted to pass on the family name to his oldest son, but he didn’t stick around for very long.

When Rocky was eight, his dad walked out on them and he never saw him again. After that, he and his three siblings were left to fend for themselves, as their alcoholic mother was no help at all. When she wasn’t passed out drunk or out on some bender she would verbally, physically, and eventually in Rocky’s case, sexually abuse them every chance she got.

His mother, who Rocky refuses to address as anything other than ‘Tina’, began to force intimacy on him shortly after he turned ten. It became so routine, that whenever she’d get home, Rocky would just become physically ill and begin to throw up. Just the thought of his mother caused a reaction sometimes, and even to this day he still feels sick when she crosses his mind.

It all came to an end when Rocky was in the 7th grade. He was changing out of his clothes in gym class and the coach noticed a large, painful looking bruise on the back of his thigh. Soon after, the investigation started and the Rockwell siblings lives changed forever.

He and his older sister was placed in separate group homes, while his elementary school aged siblings were placed into foster homes together, and soon adopted by loving families. While he was able to keep contact with his sister, he hasn’t spoken to his two other siblings in years.

After living in several different group homes, Rocky was lucky enough to meet Monica and Harvey Carlin, the two people he would eventually learn to call mom and dad. They were volunteers his group home, and Harvey took a special interest in the young man. He was nearing his fourteenth birthday, and Harvey saw a lot of himself in the kid. He, too, had been abused by his parents and ended up in the same Seattle boys home he was helping out in now. He decided to be a mentor to him, teaching him things a father should teach. It was nice for him to finally have an adult in his life who seemed to care.

After about a year of being in his life, Harvey and Monica asked Rocky if he wanted to join their family. They welcomed him in with open arms, and the adoption was finalized with a party of over 100 new family members to welcome him home.

Adolescence.

TRIGGER WARNING: DRUG ABUSE

While Rocky was still in foster care, he met the wonderful Molly Mattinson and took almost no time falling in love with her. It took him nearly a year to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, because she was perfect and he didn’t want his past to ruin her. He was afraid that after everything he’d been through, she would decide he was too damaged to even bother. Molly became the most consistent thing in his life, and to this day he feels like he will never be able to fully thank her for that.

When he was sixteen, their worlds became intertwined forever. Rocky and Molly were having a baby. He was terrified to tell the Carlins, the family who had actually chosen him. He didn’t want to make them regret ever taking a chance on him, only two years into being under their roof and he was already knocking someone up. Of course, the ever-loving Harvey and Monica were anything but regretful. While they definitely weren’t happy, they did their best to support the young couple in every way they could through the pregnancy.

Knowing he couldn’t rely on them forever. He tried to both work and go to school, but when the baby finally came, he knew it was hopeless. It wasn’t like he was ever going to go to college, why even bother graduating? He dropped out before junior year started and began to work full time to support his family.

About a year later, Molly was pregnant with their second child, and that is when everything started to go downhill. Between being a father and working full time, things became a little too stressful for Rocky. He was just seventeen and already paying for an apartment, a car, groceries, a baby, and now he had another one on the way. He just needed a little something to take the edge off.

During Molly’s second pregnancy, Rocky started down the path that would eventually lose him his family. After first, it was just weed. It was always around, he’d smoked before and it wasn’t a big deal. But then it was pills. Then it was both at the same time. And then eventually he was just never sober. But hey, he had it under control, right?

After their second child was born, everything just got worse. He started getting into heavier and heavier things, his drug of choice being heroin, but eventually there wasn’t a drug he hadn’t tried.

His first OD was when he was eighteen and the boys were still too young to remember, but it definitely wasn’t the last. In total, Rocky overdosed six times between the ages of seventeen and nineteen, all from a mix of heroin and morphine. The doctors kept warning his family that he needed to get help, and he refused treatment under any circumstance. He did not want to get better, but he knew he was losing Molly.

In a last stitch effort to save his little family, Rocky planned the pregnancy of their third child. In his state, none of his decisions were good ones, and that included lying to his girlfriend about pulling out and soon baby number three was on his way, but it couldn’t save the relationship.

Rocky’s last overdose happened when he was twenty one and the boys were five, four, and two, and it happened when everyone was home. He stumbled home already messed up, and quickly locked himself in the bathroom to take himself completely over the edge. It wasn’t on purpose, but two days later he woke up in the hospital with an IV drip and the news that he died that night. He had a heart attack and he was technically dead for three whole minutes. That was his wake up call. That was it. He’d finally it rock bottom. He’d almost taken a father away from his kids because he was so selfish. It was then that he knew he had to finally take care of himself. He let Molly check him into rehab the next day, and so began his road to recovery.

Adulthood.

After his three month stint in rehab, Rocky was shocked to find that Molly took their kids and moved away. He figured her lack of communication was just due to her wanting to focus on the kids and let him get better on his own. But by the time he was out, he couldn’t even blame her. He knew what he’d put her through, what he’d put their children through with his addiction. If being away from him was what she thought was best for her and the boys, he couldn’t blame her.

Rocky has been completely drug free for two years. He fell off the wagon a few times, but hasn’t touched a single drug since May 2015, and has put all of his focus on being a better person, and a better father.

I’m not proofreading any of that, I just hope it makes sense LMAO

#206intro #ooc #WOW THIS IS REALLY LONG I GET IT IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ IT LOL #JUST MESSAGE ME #IT'S CHILL MAN

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sadstonershawty · 4 years

Text

things that i’d say to you since i have a lot of shit in my head that i can’t or i guess moreover SHOULDNT say to u:

i miss u and i love u. it’s like bc of how much i loved you i’m realizing more and more i will always, at the very least, have love for u . i just don’t know that i’d ever be able to let go of that.

i love our memories. i’ve truly never gotten to that level of intimacy w someone where it was like that. where my significant other felt like my best friend. but we had so many good times and we were goofy together and i loved it. i loved being silly w someone and being genuinely myself .

i think that’s why it’s been so hard for me to “remember who i am” (which to answer my question; she’s gone. there is no more of that zoe. it’s time to create a new one. any way you want. you can do it) because we were so happy i wanted to be her again. but that was zoe in a different situation w different knowledge/experiences than the zoe now.

idk as i’m writing this i’m having a hard time really sorting out my feelings

it’s like i have so many and i’m realizing i really haven’t thought thru any of my current feelings abt pablo? i haven’t really processed any of them till now. trying to put intense emotions into words.

i just want the best for u. i hope now that we’re not together maybe ur happier . like more able to focus on urself and ur happiness. i think it’d make me super sad if you’re not even any happier. bc i do feel like i could’ve helped u, but i know u didn’t want me to. i’m sure u wanted to do it on ur own. i understand. that’s why i can’t be mad. i could never be mad . you were just doing what you felt like was best for you.

i could really never even be truly UPSET that you broke up w me bc of that, u kno? i guess that just doesn’t even make sense to me bc i would do the same if the script was flipped. i think maybe even i SHOULDVE done the same bc i was to that point too tbh. i was seriously struggling and it was hard for me to realize how deep in the shit i was bc of how much i loved him and how happy he made me.

i think more than anything i wish we could have a convo abt it. does that mean i’m not over it if i wanna understand what happened ? i don’t know. but i do wish we could just be chill and sit down and talk abt what happened now that it’s been some time bc i just wanna understand fr. and i want to know how he’s doing

part of me thinks at the end of the day he broke up w me so he could keep doing his unhealthy fuck shit like drinking (even a lil) first thing in the morning type shit and he knew i wouldn’t stand for it. at first i was wondering if he just didn’t wanna b w me bc of that but i know it’s not my job to (1) make excuses for him and (2) highkey “read between the lines” w shit that may not even be the case. that’s not fair to me or to him. i don’t need to be mad at him and i know my friends think it’s like weird or they just like want me to be on that “fuck him” shit (mainly stella...maybe not just her, maybe it’s that she’s the only one i even sometimes talk abt pablo w so idk she could be the only one i KNOW OF that feels that way. doesn’t really matter tho i guess i’m jus high and thinkin real hard on it lmao). but i don’t feel that way. i know i’ve said it before but i have been angry w him in my head in the past for everything but in all honesty i do think he gave as much as he could w still not being healed from his ex. he really gave me a lot of love. he fucked up sometimes but he really did try a lot i think. not all the time. but he did. i hope that’s not just me setting the bar really low or something and thinking that he did try. at the same time tho, it’s like how could i have felt so loved if he didn’t? i’ve never felt RECIPROCATION like that or to that extent w anyone in my life.

i’ve been thinking for awhile since we broke up (less now tho since i am getting over it) “was what we had real and did he actually love me; or did i put him up on a pedestal therefore making myself believe that he loved me when it was just infatuation (or something of that nature)?”. but i think being two months out and having a better perspective on it (granted i guess that could possibly change since it has only been two months out and maybe i’ll acquire more knowledge in the next 6 months that would totally change my opinion. bc then again i did think i was in love w cadeyn and i’m not sure i was actually in love w him.....that was also when i was 14 tho lmao. god damn this is the mental gymnastics that is done in my head on a day to day basis) i really felt vulnerable w him and i did feel him being vulnerable w me especially at the beginning (it faded more towards the end but that also may have been my own fault for pulling on him, idk) and i remember just holding each other and not fr doing anything but genuinely enjoying so fucking much of it. like we would always joke abt how we never really DID anything except the same things that were in our daily routine together at that point (having sex, smoking, listening to music together, cuddling, talking and joking together, going to the skatepark), yet we both talked abt how much we loved doing nothing together. i really believe in my heart that we had genuinely good times doing the same things together. and i believe that we were falling in love. i don’t think it was my fault, but i think on my end i was losing myself because of depression/mental illness in general lol and he was the one thing i felt like i could depend on for happiness but i think that dependency got too much. but i think what we had was real, i really don’t think i’m just fabricating all this shit in my head .

i’m thinking abt maybe saying to u sometime soonish (idk i don’t wanna put a time limit on it bc i don’t wanna do it unless it feels right and not forced and if i don’t ever really feel thag it’s right then i guess i’m not meant to say it to u at all) that i’d like to talk sometime, whether that be in person at some point or over the phone, abt what happened w us. id try to say the end in a better way lol, but i think i want to understand. and check in? idk as i’m thinking abt my “why” to this thought i don’t know if i should. bc that doesn’t rlly sound like it’s coming from a higher place . and the last fucking thing i need to do is make it more complicated for myself when i finally feel like i’m getting over this. god damn i hope that’s not my self destructive, desperate urge and that’s why i wanna talk to him. fuck lol. i guess i’ll just think abt it more as well as reevaluating my motives and not do anything impulsively

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creativedogtrainingonline · 7 years

Text

My Worst Valentine’s Day. Ever. II

Lay # 2 would be Ashley (the blonde but dull hottie) and I ‘d need to wine and dine her at her favorite elegant restaurant (as typical). Late into dinner, I would look at an “immediate e-mail” on my “Crackberry” and say sorry about having an unanticipated teleconference with a Hong-Kong-based client in 90 minutes, which would require me to go back to the workplace after supper. By then, she would have had sufficient alcohol and romantic V-Day talk for her to go along with my “fallback” for consummating Cupid Day together: I ‘d take her into the restaurant’s perfectly personal and fancy unisex restroom and fuck her between supper and dessert. With adequate wine and appeal, by that point I ‘d most likely have a 60-70% opportunity of scoring Lay # 2. She would definitely be the hardest part of my International Love Day, but I enjoyed the challenge.Lay # 3 was going

to be ghetto-girl Cassandra. After fucking Ashley, who thought I was going back to the office (where I had actually already employed sick), I would take a taxi to East Harlem, get some flowers, wine, and chocolates near Cassandra’s place, and then knock on her door at around 10:30 or11 p.m. (I told her that I wasn’t sure when my Lay # 2 – I suggest my conference call at the office – would end).

Having sex with 3 different ladies, races, income classes, cultures, and worlds – all on Love Day – would be LEGENDARY. To make it even more of a historic Valentine’s Victory, I was getting anal from Lisa and Cassandra (whom I had actually trained and charmed into giving it on a routine basis) and a minimum of doggie from Ashley (who was lastly occurring to my favorite position). If I might do all that on February 14th, it would be a personal finest for me. Something to show my crew for the glory and the laughs, or to cheer up the next friend of mine to get disposed or cheated on.So that was the V-Day dream. Now here’s the problem that ensued. Lay # 1 goes according to strategy and I even get Lisa to talk unclean to me in Cantonese during anal, which was a first for me, and a bit odd – maybe due to the fact that I usually speak Cantonese only with my loved ones. Refraining from doing that again. Anyway, Lay # 1 was an otherwise amazing start to what guaranteed to be my finest Valentine’s ever.But Lay # 2

is where it became my worst Valentine’s ever. I shower from Lay # 1, placed on my Armani fit, and take a taxi from my apartment or condo to the elegant dining establishment to fulfill Lay # 2.

Whatever is going as planned till I see that Ashley has actually hardly touched her wine glass or food after buying the priciest bottle and numerous of the most pricey meals on the menu. As I’m doing the math and understanding that I’m probably going to be stuck to a $ 400 tab for this supper date, I’m aiming to play it cool and find out how when to recommend we go to the bathroom. And just as I will lay on the Yi-Wang-Smooth, I see Lay # 1 and Lay # 3 program up to our table and take the 2 empty seats nearby.Yes, you read that correctly: Lisa and Cassandra have shown up to my dinner date with Ashley. There’s actually no other way to sum up exactly what took place next other than to give you the discussion.” Wh-what are you two doing here

?”I stammered in confused shock.”We sistah’s was havin’a lil

‘fantasy goin’ on. And we was talkin’ about our ideal Valentine’s, thinkin’we had actually all like to get a piece of you on V-Day,” Cassandra said, with vicious swagger.

“Bu-But how do you … How do you even understand each other?” I was really perplexed by this most unfortunate coincidence.

“Now, Narc, I know you is the lawyer here. However we goin’ do the deposition this time. Then you can ask yo’ dumbass questions.”

“Yes,” Lisa chimed in. “We’re asking the concerns first. What does the word ‘anal’ suggest to you?”

This was getting uglier by the minute, I thought. There truly was no simple escape, because we were sitting far from the exit and the waiters knew me from prior supper dates with Ashley and I hadn’t paid the tab yet. Why the hell was Lisa asking exactly what the word “anal” means to me?

“Um, well, I’m a quite anal person – I guess that’s why I work as a legal representative. You know, you have to be really anal to chase after commas throughout the day in various drafts of a business spin-off agreement.”

Lisa continued: “To me, anal suggests a certain degree of intimacy and exclusivity. How about you, Cassandra?”

“Damn straight. Narc ought to understand about exclusivity. ‘Cuz I know a few of ‘dem agreements you writin’ be all about that shit.”

Ashley then joined the fray: “And exactly what does the word ‘dog’ imply to you?”

Like a driver who has lost control of his car, I was bracing for the impending crash. “Well, I have actually told you that I was never ever a huge fan of pets, however I did try to make an exception for your poodle.”

“Yes, and I was never ever a huge fan of doggie, however I made an exception for you too. Somehow you made me feel special – like you deserved it.”

Lisa continued however this time in a hot and suggestive voice that practically offered me a minute of hope: “After you left my place this afternoon, Cassandra provided me a call, and we began talking about how our fantasy for Valentine’s Day was to offer an entire brand-new significance to the words ‘anal’ and ‘doggie’ – you understand, simply to take these things to another level that none people has actually ever experienced.”

If it weren’t for that Cassandra must have never had Lisa’s contact number, that could have seemed like an invite to have a kinky foursome after this disastrous dinner I had to get away. I knew that I was heading into some kind of dreadful trap but I couldn’t resist the curiosity they had actually provoked in me. So I asked Lisa, “What do you mean, take anal and doggy to another level that none people has ever experienced?”

Lisa replied, “Well, this wasn’t so simple to establish. And – as in the sexual context – the anal part was actually a bit trickier than the doggie part, best Ashley?”

“Yeah, I need to get after Jennifer anyhow,” Ashley agreed, referring to her aggravatingly barky white poodle.

“What do you imply?” I asked in dread.Ashley pulled

her distribute of her bag, holding a plastic bag of Jennifer’s poo. “This is doggie!” she stated, hurling the bag of pet dog shit all over the upper body of my Armani fit.

“And this is anal,” Lisa included, tossing her own plastic bag of crap and striking the side of my face. “It’s a bit harder to obtain than doggie, as you understand,” she added.Cassandra added the coup de grace: “And here’s yo’ second anal, Narc. ‘Cuz I was thinkin’ two anals and a dog on Valentine’s would be the SHIT.” And her bag of shit landed smack in my face.After I took

a 20-minute-dung-removal bird bath in the dining establishment bathroom, paid the $ 400 supper bill, and went out as embarrassingly red as an Asian face can get, I get a text message from Cassandra. “4 a well-read lwyer u sure is a dumbass, plannin VDay on ur fone in my bthrm after u was gettin herbal.”

And after that the complete degree of my arrogant dumbassness struck me. I had scheduled UN Love Day with Lay # 1 and Lay # 2 a few days previously, while I was taking a dump in the restroom of Lay # 3. I did this with my personal cell phone, which – unlike my work Blackberry – had no password on it. I was a bit stoned and drowsy at the time, and forgot my phone in the restroom before Cassandra and I had one more round of sex. Then I was down for the count. However not the lady. And women go to the bathroom. And if your phone is sitting there in the restroom without you and a text message gets here, they will read it, in addition to all of the other text messages. Then you’re actually fucked.After reading

Cassandra’s text, the full level of her revenge-seeking, wicked genius dawned upon me. She deliberately planned to undermine whatever AFTER Lay # 1 (Lisa, in Newark) so that I ‘d believe absolutely nothing and believe V-Day was going as smoothly as planned. Cassandra shrewdly waited up until after Lay # 1 happened prior to telling Lisa what she had actually discovered on my phone. Then the 2 of them plainly conspired with Ashley over all the details of their shitty revenge.The next night, my buddy Sammy (aka “Heeb” )dropped in my office to tell me everything about his best Valentine’s Day ever. After he closed the door, he detailed how he had actually transformed a shit sandwich into an epic rating that left him absolutely victorious. When I then told him about my actual shit sandwich, he was up to the floor laughing in uncontrolled hysteria. So for about 15 minutes, I had this brief, chubby, baldness guy on the carpet of my office shaking in violent laughter and desperately gasping for air. Then he was gloating about the whole thing for weeks after that.Whatever.

I had to let him savor the one time that he trounced me in a sex smackdown – on V-day no less. Approved, I did get some anal however I experienced it as no male ever should. The entire thing made me consistently accept monogamy. For about a week.Needless to state

, that was the shittiest Valentine’s Day of my life. Actually.

Zack Love finished from Harvard College, where he attempted to produce a bachelor’s degree in Females. With the bachelor portion of that degree in hand, he settled in New York City however – to afford leasing his bed-sized studio – found himself flirting primarily with a computer system screen and stacks of documents. Figured out not to pass away a corporate drone, Zack decided to compromise sleep for screenwriting, an active social life, and Internet start-ups offering temporary billion-dollar fantasies.To feed his steady diet plan of NYC night life, he routinely crashed VIP celebrations in the early 2000s and two times bumped into his blossoming crush, a Hollywood starlet. But -much to Zack’s surprise-neither of those awkward conversations caused marriage with the A-list actress. Zack ultimately consoled himself by picturing fiascoes far worse than those involving his celebrity crush. While doing so, he dreamed up a motley gang of 5 men inspired by a few of his college pals and quirky work coworkers. And therefore was born Sex in the Title. But the novel is not autobiographical: Zack never had his 3rd leg attacked by any mammal (nor by any plant, for that matter). In fact, keeping his member safe has been among Zack’s lifelong goals -and one of the few that he’s managed to achieve. campaign

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